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slut4jeon · 3 months

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Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer (jjk)

Officer!Jk x fem reader

Summary: Tiredly calling it a night after attending your workplaces celebration New Year's Eve party. You may have or not ran through a stop sign foolishly thinking no one would have been around to witness it…oh how wrong you were

Warnings: mature (18+), smut, degradation, unprotected sex, Voyeurism, don't read this if this does not interest you!! You have been warned!

I had this prepared early Jan but tumblr didn’t save my writing :(( so I gave up on it lmao. I also really wanted to write smth w tsx jungkook. The police trend w the Lana song gave me inspo for this although the actual trend isn’t in the fic.

You were calling it a night, exiting the noisy building that is your workplace. There was a currently a party in the building where your coworkers were celebrating the New Year's.

You were tired. The loud music and chatters annoying you. You chose a safer route tonight, sticking to sparkling cider since you were driving yourselves home tonight.

The cold air hitting your bare skin leaving goosebumps over your entire figure as youstep out into the windy area heading towardsyour parked car.

That's the consequence of wanting to look good and presentable for a celebration, you of course always look stunning. It doesn't hurt to get ready. You were currently sporting a black ysl mini along with a deep v neckline and a pair of matching black pumps. The shoes, also annoying by how sore they left your feet.

Black heels clicking onto the floor as you begin entering your car as you drove into the pitch black night. Admiring the way the twinkling city lights look, along with the lit up buildings and lampposts. You got a little too carried away when you were oblivious to the stop sign you foolishly didn't stop and passed by.

Regret lingered in your chest as you panicked over your foolish action. Perhaps you'd be fine as it is the late night and no cars were present, oh how wrong you were.

The sound of a police siren began ringing as the bright red and blue lights gaining up on the tail of your car. You pulled onto the side of the road swiftly and put your car in park. Your trembly hands gripping both hands onto the steering wheels most definitely leaving your palms and knuckles white. That's when you heard 3 knocks on your left side window.

"Shit" you muttered. Feeling a rise of mixed movement in your lower belly as you begin lowering your window. There you met the gaze of a handsome officer.

"Driving late on New Years Day? When everybody's drinking and celebrating tonight. License and registration." He spewed with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yes, of course." Your hand quickly traveled to your glove compartment pulling out the documents. Then, pulled your license from your clutch.

As he inspected you couldn't help but gaze at him. His raven black sleek parted hair showing off a bit of forehead. His black button up dress shirt that was tucked in the matching black jeans, and rolled up from the sleeves stopping before the elbows to show off his meaty arms that were covered in artworks of tattoos.

The stern look he holds as looking at your documents. The burrowed brow and line wrinkles in between the brows. He was attractive, godly attractive.

"Step out the vehicle for me" he said. You did as told

You couldn't help but gaze at him. He was an attractive specimen. But soon you were ripped out of your thoughts.

"Walk along that yellow line"

"Officer I'm not drunk or anything of the sor-" you were interrupted

"You were given instructions. I expect you to follow them." he bluntly said

Obeying his words you stepped foot onto the yellow line. The cold air doing you no justice as you were trembling from it.

What you weren't aware of was how he stared at your ass that was threatening to spill out of the little piece of flimsy material you call a dress.

Turning around, his gaze caught you off guard at how he stared at you as a helpless little fawn about to be hunt down by a hungry wolf.

"I'm gonna pat you down. Step right by the car for me, palms flat onto the vehicle", he demanded.

Swiftly obeying, you got into position. Beginning his pat down inspection from head to toe. His muscular hands roamed over your body. You wondered whether your goosebumps was from the cold wind or his slithering fingers tracing over your open skin.

As he got lower and lower, padding the waist and soon hips he made sure to grope onto your flesh just in case of any dangerous possessions.

You were a whimpering mess, biting into your bottom lip to suppress any noise coming out of your mouth. The attractive officer had an effect on you. Especially when passing your thighs and ankles, rising back to the top his movement slowed as he reached back to your thighs.

You let out suppressed mewls as his fingers inched towards your inner thighs. Your legs were gonna give up at any threatening moment. You questioned whether he caught onto your reaction to his touch.

His fingers were dangerous close to your soaking cunt. You were took aback at his touch you could not longer suppress the noises that urged to come pass your lips. Your heat was aching for his touch.

He took notice to your glistening folds in with your juices threatening to spill out of your wine red lace panties. The officer could no longer resist the temptation of the sweet treat in front of him.

Riding your dress a bit up his face inched closer to your cunt, nose and all. Hooking his fingers onto your panties and pushing them aside, he ate you out from behind. Your knees about to give in as he ate your pussy like a starved man. His tongue lapped over your clit playing with the cute bud left you a whiny mess.

"Please” you voiced out quietly

How cute, the officer thought. His fingers lathered your juices, leaving them coated and dripping. The sudden intrusion of his long fingers intruding into the tight ring of your hole.

With your mouth agape, your mind was left into a frenzy at how good the officer worked his fingers into your soaking cunt.

"Clenching onto my fingers, aren't you a little eager thing?", he said

You looked back to him to see his pretty pouty lips all swollen and tinted from eating you out. Your juices trailing down his chin and neck. He looked too edible.

He sensed you were near as your gummy walls clamped onto his fingers. Quickly pulling them out and robbing you of your release you mewled at the empty feeling.

You were a minx he thought. His cock hardening and imprinting his jeans. The feeling got only tighter as his fingers savored the taste of your pussy juices that coated his index and middle.

He needed more. Turning your body swiftly around the officer face to face with you connected both mouths together. His hands sneaked onto your hips and lower onto your ass making sure to grip the plumpy flesh.

You couldn't help out moan into his mouth as you both were in ecstasy. You needed more.

"Need to fuck that pussy, will you let me pretty thing?", who were you to deny him?

Eagerly nodding your head in confirmation. "Words, pretty", the officer said

"Please fuck me", you said in a desperate manner. That's all it took for him to roughly turn you around and begin grinding his hard length into your ass.

Desperate for friction you pushed out for him, like a bitch in heat. Your dress being a nuisance for him he unzipped you, freeing your bare body to be in display of his hungry eyes.

You wore no bra as the dress had padding, all you were left in was your wine lace panties. His lips traveled from your neck to breasts. Scattering marks as if he were leaving burns.

The way his teeth clamped onto your bud, sucking and pulling. Something about the way you were fully bare at his mercy as he remained fully clothed while he played with your pussy had you rubbing your thighs together.

"Officer please, fuck me!", you could no longer take it.

He smirked at your eagerness. Finding it humorously cute at how much of a cock hungry whore you are.

Your ears perked at the noise of him fumbling with his belt. His cock sprung free fully erect as he began aligning it to your entrance.

"O-oh! Fuck.., officer!", you blabbered incoherently as the intrusion of his length stretched your hole.

"-shit, such a tight little pussy", his pace greedily fastened.

You were a mess. All that was heard in the quiet night was the way he rammed his cock into your pussy. Balls slapping against your clit.

"Such a whore you are, aren't you? You like getting rammed from behind by an officer out in the outdoors?" he said as he continued abusing your cunt.

"Who would've thought a pretty thing like you was such a dirty slut, huh?" Your walls clenched by each word coming out of his filthy mouth.

"yes!yes!yes!", he fucked you deliciously good, your orgasm threatening to approach with his current pace.

You were cock drunk. Barely paying any kind of attention to the fact you were getting rammed out in public. Any person or car could pass by but your mind would only be focused on the way his dick drilled at a relentless speed.

His fingers sinked to your clit, rubbing your bud provoking your body to tremble in ecstasy of how he worked wonders on your body.

"Sir, i-it's too much!"

"You can take it ,baby. Milk my cock, make a mess.”

His words were perfectly on cue. Creaming his cock in your release. Falling limp into his arms. His release wasn't too far off yours. Head leaning into your neck as both of your panted. Silence went on for a few minutes before he helped with re-dressing you.

The officer broke the silence, "So, the names Jungkook. Could we perhaps exchange numbers, I'd like to take you out sometime soon.”

- end

#jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook x female reader #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #fanfiction #fanfic #bts fanfic

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daisynik7 · 6 months

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Cure for a Hangover

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.9k

cw: next-door neighbor Kishibe, age gap (I’m thinking at least fifteen years, Kishibe pushing mid-forties, reader is in her late 20s/early 30s), alcohol consumption, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), blowjob, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, pet names (sweetheart, angel, kiddo)

Summary: Kishibe is your mysterious, brooding, and significantly older next-door neighbor. You’ve lived beside him for a while now, only exchanging basic pleasantries out of politeness, never anything more. One night, he comes home drunk, or so he thinks. It’s not his door he’s slumped again; it’s yours.

Author’s Notes: It’s been a minute since I wrote for Kishibe and I really do miss it. This old man continues to do wonders to me, so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @demonwoman (bc Kishibe using kiddo as a pet name is living in my head rent free thanks to you)

part 3 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

It’s not often that you’re met with a man slumped against your door, but here you are, staring down at your next-door neighbor, Kishibe, doing just that.

It’s past two in the morning now, and you’ve just come back from your own night out with your friends. You’re not nearly as drunk as you were three hours ago, after pounding glasses of Chardonnay while watching cheesy romance movies at your best friend’s apartment. And you’re certainly not as inebriated as the man before you, who absolutely reeks of liquor, even from a small distance away.

You inspect the scene thoroughly, unsure what to do in this scenario. Kishibe is basically a stranger to you. Sure, you’ve exchanged basic pleasantries here and there over that past year since you moved in. That’s as far as it goes. You have no idea what his profession is, though you have a solid guess as to what it could be, given his work attire and overall physique. While you’ve never run into one yourself, devils run rampart in Tokyo, hell-bent on causing chaos wherever they spawn. Kishibe looks like a Devil Hunter, whose job is to eliminate these monsters. It’s intriguing, that’s for sure, but you’ve never mustered the courage to ask him about it, leaving him to maintain his mysterious demeanor.

However, right now, you don’t see a Devil Hunter in front of you. Instead, it’s a simple man who is very drunk and very much in your way.

Deciding to help him, because that’s the only choice you have if you want to get into your apartment, you kneel down to search his overcoat, patting the breast pocket for keys. When you find nothing, you move to his pants, retrieving only his phone. His eyes are closed and he’s snoring, blissfully unaware of your predicament in his drunken stupor. You take this time to study his face. He’s looks much older up close; not only that, he’s even more handsome than you originally thought. There’s a prominent scar running from his mouth to his jaw, surely an interesting story behind it. You’re tempted to trace it delicately with your finger, but you ultimately resist the urge, snapping out of it to investigate his phone for any clues.

There are several missed calls and texts from a person named Kenji. You use the Face ID feature to unlock his phone, thanking the universe that even with his eyes shuts, it works. Not wanting to pry more than necessary, you check the most recent texts for the answer to your question: Where the hell are his keys?

Kenji: you left your keys at the bar, come back now. I’m closing up soon

Kenji: I’m not waiting for your ass

Kenji: I’m leaving, get them tomorrow

You read over the messages once more, groaning quietly to yourself at your dumb luck. Desperate now, you resort to the next logical step.

“Hey,” you say, tapping him lightly on the cheek, rousing him awake. “Kishibe.”

Slowly, but surely, he opens his eyes, half-lidded, struggling to focus on you. “Huh?” His breath is heavy with liquor, most likely whiskey. His voice is deep and gravelly, and you hate admitting that’s it’s almost sexy. Well, not almost. It is sexy.

Letting the inappropriate thought fade, you say, “You’re at the wrong apartment. This is mine.”

He blinks three times, opening his eyes properly to stare at you, expression confused. “Am I dead?”

You bite your lip, holding back laughter. “No, you’re not.”

“Am I in heaven?”

You shake your head, repeating, “No, you’re not.”

“Then why is there any angel here with me?” He sounds sincere, and you can’t help but break out into a genuine smile.

“I’m not an angel,” you reply, giggling.

His lips curve into a cocky grin. “You sure? You look like one to me.” Cheeky bastard, hitting on you while he’s plastered. And look at you, finding it endearing when he does.

Slightly more relaxed, you slide the phone into his breast pocket, standing up to unlock your door. You can’t just leave him out here all night, so you decide to let him stay with you until he’s sober enough to call a locksmith. You jiggle the keys, turning the knob to open the door, and suddenly, there’s a loud thud, and then a delayed, “Ow.” He’s laid flat in the middle of your doorway, hitting his head on the hardwood. You feel guilty, not having the foresight to see this coming. His body is much sturdier than you anticipated.

You kneel down, apologizing. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

He winces, rubbing the back of his skull, then gives you a goofy smile. “I’ll be fine. Think I can get a kiss to make it feel better?”

You roll your eyes at him, once again unable to contain your laughter. “I’ll get you some ice. Let’s get you to the couch first, okay?”

Somehow, some way, whether it’s spurred by adrenaline or desperation to finally get some sleep in your own bed, you manage to haul him up by the armpits and drag him the short distance to your couch. You fluff a pillow and place it under his head, making it as comfortable as possible for him. “I’ll get the ice now.”

Before you can stand up, he grabs your wrist, gripping you tightly. “What about my kiss?”

“Nope. Not happening. I bet you don’t even know my name,” you challenge him.

He doesn’t respond, loosening his hold so you can get up. You fill a plastic bag with ice, returning to surround the back of his head with it. Eventually, he utters your name, eyes closed while he relaxes to your touch. He peeks at you with one eye open, waiting for you to confirm.

You nod, grinning. “So, you do know my name.”

“Can I get my kiss now?” he teases, gazing at you.

You shake your head. “Definitely not. I will not take advantage of a drunk person, that’s fucked up.”

He sighs, exhaling deeply, broad chest rising and falling. “Yeah, you’re right. I knew you were a good girl.”

You try not to hang on to those words, especially the last two, already fluttering below your belly over it. Grabbing his hand to replace yours, you instruct him to keep it there while you return to the kitchen to pour him a large glass of water. Within the short amount of time you’re gone, he falls asleep, his hand barely holding onto to the ice pack.

You smile to yourself, setting the glass of water down on the coffee table to continue attending to his minor injury. After a while, when you notice that there isn’t any bump or swelling developing, you stop icing him. He snores peacefully in a deep sleep, no sign of waking up anytime soon. As gingerly as you can, you remove his overcoat, draping it over the back of the couch. You set his phone next to the glass of water, for easy access. His tie looks tight around his collar, so you loosen it. Finally, you remove his shoes from his feet, laying them by the front door near your own pair. You’re certain he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling like shit, so you place a bottle of painkillers by his phone in case he needs them.

It's past three now by the time you’re dressed down in your pajamas and snuggled in bed. You keep the door ajar, listening to Kishibe’s steady breathing in the living room, treating it like white noise to help you fall fast asleep.

~~~

Kishibe wakes up with his head throbbing. He stares up at the ceiling, not recognizing it as his own. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that this isn’t his apartment.

He turns, seeing his phone, a glass of water, and a bottle of painkillers on the coffee table arm’s reach of him. Slowly, he sits up, grimacing from the pain, downing all the water in three large gulps. He checks his phone, thankfully still on its last leg of battery. It’s almost eleven on a Saturday morning and he’s sure Kenji, his bartender friend, is already awake, preparing for the day.

“Kenji,” he mutters, throat hoarse from last night’s festivities.

His friend first berates him for forgetting his keys, then laughs when Kishibe explains that somehow, some way, he managed to fall asleep on someone else’s couch. He could have woken up in worst conditions, that’s for sure.

Kenji agrees to stop by after running his errands, in about two hours or so. Beggars can’t be choosers, so Kishibe has no choice but to wait. When they’re phone conversation is over, he sinks back into the cushions, trying to piece everything together from just a few hours ago. He recalls snippets of it, and he grows increasingly embarrassed as the memories play vividly in his brain. He’s certain he called his neighbor an angel, and even more sure that he was begging her for a kiss. How shit-faced was he to compel him to do that? Obviously, very. How could he let his intrusive thoughts blurt out of his mouth like that?

Call it cliché or whatever, but yes, Kishibe is attracted his young, pretty neighbor next door. However, he’s held off on making a move because he doesn’t want to make things between them awkward. Once he crosses that line, their relationship gets more complicated. And the devil knows that Kishibe doesn’t do complicated. So, he’s content with gazing from afar, exchanging basic small talk with one another whenever they pass each other in the hallway. That’s as far as it’s gone with her, and that’s as far as it will go.

Of course, that’s all fucked up now thanks to his drunken antics from last night.

Before he can make his move, he hears a bedroom door creak open from behind him. She comes out, looking fresh out of the shower, dressed in skimpy pajama bottoms that are short enough to expose that tantalizing curve right below her ass. Surely, she’s doing this on purpose, right? She has to know how fucking sexy she looks right now, there’s no way she doesn’t.

He clears his throat, preparing to explain himself right off the bat to avoid an awkward confrontation. But he’s rendered momentarily speechless when she flashes a bright smile at him. “Morning, Kishibe.”

He huffs out a short laugh. “Morning.”

She steps towards him, sitting at the opposite end of the couch by his feet. Her shorts ride up and he’s sure he can see the lacey outline of her panties. Or maybe it’s just his perverse imagination, who knows at this point. “How are you feeling?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

He grunts. “Like shit,” he answers. “But it could be worse.”

“That’s the spirit,” she teases, patting his knee.

His head pounds from his hangover, though it’s his heartbeat that thumps loudly against his eardrums, aroused by her touch. He has got to control himself. Doing his best to distract her from the raging boner growing beneath his slacks, he asks, “What happened last night?”

She explains her account of the evening in detail, her voice soft and soothing, cautious of his current headache. She leaves out the parts where he embarrasses himself, which he’s grateful for, not wanting to relive the humiliation. When she’s done, she offers, “If you want, you can take a shower while you wait for your friend to arrive. I can get you some towels. I even have a toothbrush you can use.”

He raises a brow at her. “Are you trying to tell me I stink?”

“Do you need someone to tell you that you stink? I thought it was pretty obvious given the state you’re in,” she quips, matching his expression.

He laughs, genuinely amused by her response. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”

She leads him into her bathroom, showing him how to work the knob for hot water, pointing out the shampoo, conditioner, and soap kept neatly on a corner shelf of her bathtub. She lingers for a bit while he starts the shower, then hands him a clean towel and new toothbrush. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Surprisingly, he makes it through his shower without succumbing to the temptation to touch himself. As degenerate as he can be, he still has some sense of respect and pride in him, enough to resist masturbating in his neighbor’s shower. He does, however, give her shampoo and conditioner bottles an extra-long sniff.

He dries off, scrubbing his hair with the towel, cleaning behind his ears with cotton swabs, checking his piercings. Towel wrapped around his waist, he brushes his teeth, making sure to go the full two minutes, scrubbing his tongue after. He hasn’t made the best impression so far, so he figures he should try to change that now, if there’s still a chance. Feeling fresh and clean, he stares down at his clothes in a pile on the floor. Even from where he stands, he can smell them, almost like they’ve been diluted in liquor and musk. Without thinking, he steps out of the bathroom, calling out her name. “Got any clothes I could borrow?”

She’s in the kitchen when he comes out, leaning over the stove as she cooks something that smells wonderful. She turns to face him, staring wide-eyed as he stands almost naked in the middle of her living room. Her gaze drifts down his bare body, lingering on his sculpted abs, then at the towel wrapped precariously around his waist. She snaps out of it in time, saying, “I don’t. Sorry.”

“My clothes fucking stink and I don’t want to wear them right now. Mind if I just walk around like this?”

“Sure. I mean, I don’t mind.” She focuses her attention back to the pan, continuing to cook what looks like scrambled eggs.

He knows this is a bizarre request, though this day couldn’t get any more bizarre than it already is, can it?

~~~

You’re not exactly sure how to refuse Kishibe’s request to walk around half naked in your apartment, so instead, you agree to it, claiming that you don’t mind. In actuality, you mind very much, simply because you can’t help but fantasize about the delicious sight beneath the towel. One wrong move like a bump to the hip is all it takes to see that pesky cover fall down. Geez, when did you become such a pervert? And for an old man?!

Desperate for a distraction, you maintain focus on the eggs in front of you. While he was in the shower, you decided to start breakfast, something hearty to combat that hangover of his. Scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage, comforting foods to soak up the remaining alcohol left in his body. He makes his way towards you, scooting a chair out from the table to take a seat. He strategically maneuvers himself to not accidentally expose you, though you really don’t mind if he does. Again, perverted thoughts, shame on you!

Finished cooking, you scoop the eggs out onto his plate and the other meant for you. He thanks you, taking a whiff of his breakfast, a small smile on his face. “Smells good.”

You pass him another glass of liquid, this one filled with an electrolyte drink meant for hydration after a night of drinking. “Drink this. It’ll help with your hangover.”

He eyes it suspiciously, then takes a gulp without questioning it further.

The two of you eat in a comfortable silence, ignoring the obvious tension hanging in the air. From your peripheral, you notice the glint of steel hooked to his ear lobe. Piercings, which you never noticed before. Sexy.

He ends up finishing his entire meal, popping a few painkillers to chase it all down. He even chugs the electrolyte drink, claiming it isn’t so bad. While you take the last few bites of your toast, he excuses himself to brush his teeth again. You’re surprised at how hygienic he is, considering how he appeared before you just mere hours ago, hunched against your front door covered in his own liquor-soaked sweat. You take the plates, stacking them in the sink to wash for later. How much longer is his friend going to take to arrive here? You’re getting nervous, thinking of other ways to fill this gap of time without making your attraction to him so obvious.

You sit on the couch, turning the TV on to a random sitcom with the volume low, listening to the rush of water from the faucet inside the bathroom. When it stops, you try to find a comfortable position to sit in. It’s only now that you realize how short your pajama bottoms are; they ride all the way up your thighs and you can practically see your underwear through them. It’s too late to change when Kishibe returns, still clad in just a towel, taking a seat on the other side of the couch a safe distance beside you. It’s silent for a brief moment, neither of you knowing what to say in this odd situation. You shift nervously, tugging at the hem of your shorts.

“Thank you,” he starts, avoiding your gaze, staring ahead at the television. “For taking care of me. Must have been annoying to deal with a drunken old man.”

You smile, relaxing. “It wasn’t so bad. Besides, I couldn’t just leave you out there like that. Someone could have taken advantage of you.”

“Like you almost did?” he smirks, facing you now.

Laughing, you meet his gaze. “You remember that?”

“I do.” He spreads his legs apart just barely, towel draped dangerously over his knee, almost ready to slip.

You swallow hard, avoiding a glance in that direction, heat surrounding your cheeks. “Well, I was a good girl, remember? I didn’t do anything.”

He hums, nodding slowly, eyes drilling into yours. “You were a very good girl.”

Your breath hitches and you find yourself gravitating towards him, scooting closer. He grins, the scar on his cheek curving with it, voice low and seductive. “You gonna be bad for me now?”

“Only if you want me to,” you purr, sliding your hand beneath the towel, up his thigh, arousal pooling between your legs. Fuck it. He wants it, you want it. There’s no denying it anymore.

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, pulling you in for a kiss. His mouth is cool and minty against yours, the remnants of toothpaste lingering in his spit. You slurp it up, hungry for any taste of him. He removes the towel from his waist, shrugging it to the floor, leaving him completely naked. You glance at his lap and bite back a moan, amazed at how fucking big he is, way too eager to have him inside you, desperate to be filled to the brim.

“Not bad for an old man, huh?” he chuckles, wrapping his fist around the shaft, stroking it.

“Not bad at all,” you smile, stripping out of your clothes hastily, kneeling between his legs with your mouth open.

He feeds you his cock, humming when you surround him in your wet heat, swallowing him to the hilt. One hand grips the back of your head, guiding you gently up and down his shaft. “You’re filthy, taking your neighbor’s cock like this. Who knew you’d be such a slut?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with his other hand. “Touch yourself while I fuck this filthy mouth. Get that pretty pussy wet for me.”

You obey, spurred on by his vulgarity, reaching for your arousal, rubbing your throbbing clit with fast fingers. His cock hits the back of your throat and you guzzle him down to resist gagging, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. He moans, bucking his hips slightly, enraptured by you. With his thumb, he brushes away a tear welling at the corner of your eye, pulling out halfway. “Don’t hurt yourself, kiddo. It’s okay if I’m too much for you.”

You release him completely, moving down to his balls, nuzzling your nose to them. “I can take it, don’t worry.”

He clicks his teeth, beckoning you on the couch, almost like you’re being scolded for something you weren’t supposed to do. You roll your eyes, sitting beside him begrudgingly. He leans close to you, hot on your ear, one hand sliding between your legs while the other continues to stroke his dick. “I want to touch you too. That okay?”

You whine in response, tugging him in for a passionate kiss. He massages deep circles around your clit, fingers squelching from your slick gathering along your entrance. “I want a taste,” he growls, splitting apart your thighs, staring at your glistening cunt.

You nod, sinking into the couch, relinquishing all control to him. You let your pleasured moans speak for you as he dives into your pussy, eating you out sloppily. His facial hair grazes against you with each careful stroke of his tongue and you ache to see his chin shiny with your cum. Eventually, he slips inside you, pumping two digits in and out, mouth still working your bud. Soon, it becomes too much and you’re gushing for him, whimpering his name with ragged breaths, soaking his face in your essence.

He chuckles, the vibrations resonating to your clit, causing you to twitch with overstimulation. “That’s my girl, making such a mess for me.”

“Fuck me, Kishibe,” you breathe out, craving to be stuffed full of him. You’re reeling from your high, and if he’s not inside you soon, you’re sure you’ll go insane.

He hoists you up onto his lap, precum oozing from the tip of his dick. “How about you fuck me? Show me how much of a slut you are.”

Too fucked out to argue, you lift up on your knees, position him to your wet hole, sinking down slowly. He slides in easily, pussy sleek from your previous orgasm. It’s better than you imagined, every inch of him stimulating every inch of you. You savor it, rocking against him slowly. He kisses along on your neck, trailing to your nipples to suckle on them. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans, thrusting up into you to match your rhythm. “Take this cock however you like. It’s all yours.”

You bounce on him faster, whimpering into his mouth as you kiss him. He palms your ass cheeks, squeezing them in his firm grip, delivering a few loud smacks that echo off the walls of your living room, stinging your skin. “Fuck, I knew you were a good girl. Knew it the moment I met you,” he growls, pressing his thumb to your swollen clit. “Always wanted you like this.”

You kiss him harder at his confession, your chest swelling, pussy fluttering. You’re approaching another climax, teetering on the edge. As if he senses it, he tightens his hold on you, fucking into you faster, deeper. “Come for me, angel. Come on this cock.”

And you do, clenching him with your orgasm, making him mutter, “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming with you.” He shoots his load inside you, filling you up, just like you wanted.

It takes a moment for the two of you to catch your breaths, relaxing into each other’s arms, exchanging soft kisses without speaking. You study his face again, similar to how you did just several hours before, when he was slumped against your door, drunk. You thought he was handsome then, even more so now. “How’s your hangover?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He smiles, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Much better.”

#kishibe #kishibe x reader #kishibe csm #kishibe smut #kishibe chainsaw man #kishibe x you #csm kishibe #chainsaw man smut #csm smut #to all the boys who live next door #anthology series

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fandomsandfeminism · 2 years

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Every time I sit down to read about queer history, I'm always struck by how deeply sexuality and gender and gender expression used to be interwoven. (And for many of us still are.)

These days, I see people arguing that straight cis drag queens and GNC folks aren't "actually lgbt+" (one of the limits of using lgbt+ rather than queer), and acting like trans/nonbinary/genderqueer folks are a wholly separate group than lesbian/gay/bi/etc folks. People, lgbt+ people, talking bad about xenogenders and neopronouns because they are too weird, just for attention, giving us all a bad name, etc.

But this separation between gender, sexuality, and presentation is *new*

Looking back at history, especially within US and Western Europe, and either you were a heterosexual man/woman who presented accordingly, or you *werent.* That was the divide. If you transgressed on any 1 of those things- you were transgressing on ALL of them.

Being gay/bi inherently called your gender into question. Being gender nonconforming immediately reflected upon your sexuality. There wasn't a divide between these concepts. They were one and the same. You were *normal* or you were queer. And of course, not all gay/bi/lesbian folks were crossdressing (how else did one stay in the closet?) , and not all people in gender nonconforming clothing had a sexual interest in the same sex. But these ideas were constantly melding together. To be a man was to be straight and dress "like a man." To be a woman was to be straight and "dress like a woman." They defined each other.

In much of the country, you could be arrested if you weren't wearing at least 3 pieces of "correctly gendered" clothing. That's the rule that got a lot of folks arrested in gay bars- regardless of sex or gender. Even after same sex dancing was technically legalized, crossdressing would get you beaten and arrested by the cops. Cops would "inspect" bar patrons to ensure they were dressed in the "correct" clothes when raids occurred.

And that's not to say that the community was ever fully free of assimilationist/exclusionist factions. There have always been groups, generally of cis/gender-confirming gay, lesbian, and bisexuals who argued in favor of respectability and fitting in and showing a willingness to leave the crossdressers and drag queens and butches behind if it meant they could keep their white collar jobs. If it meant social tolerance and safety for *them.*

But we should be able to recognize that the heart and soul of queer Liberation is in unity and embracing the weird, not shunning it. That we are strongest when we stand together.

I don't think it's WRONG for us today to distinguish gender, sexuality, and presentation as different aspects of identity. But I think we should be very very careful to not let that nuance lead to exclusionary or over-compartmentalized thinking about queer issues.

#queer #pride #lgbt #queer history

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misserabella · 1 year

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eugene’s secret

ellie williams x f! reader

summary; basically the scene in tlou II where ellie comes across eugene’s stash but with changes and additions!

cw; weed, smoking, cursing, tension, sexual thoughts and action, 18+ content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, kissing, making out, the knee thing, thigh riding, teasing, dom! ellie and sub! reader, ellie being a little mean, praising, hickeys, nipple play, overstimulation, finger fucking, scissoring, getting caught!!…

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

“What’s he got down here?” you said as you close the door behind your back, stairs to your right.

“It’s obviously a sex den.” Ellie joked, and you playfully pushed her with your shoulder. She smiled as he gave you an amused look. “That’s why he didn’t tell you about it.” you two started to go down the stairs, her auburn hair swaying with her steps. She looked exceptionally pretty today, with her hair on a low bun and her green jacket.

“I hope it’s a sex den, for his sake. He was so lonely man…” you laughed, and she shook her head.

When you reach the basement, you two found the double doors to your right and slowly opened them up, the strong smell of the plants residing down there hitting you on the nose.

“Oh… oh my god… It’s weed.” Ellis said, shocked as you two entered the room, illuminated by lightbulbs.

“It’s a lot of dead weed.” you nod, looking around. “This explains a lot…” you mutter, watching her take a piece of the weed in between her hands.

“Maria would lose her shit if she saw this place.” Ellie said, smelling the weed.

“How the fuck did he get this together?” you were astonished by the amount of them that stood on tables under the growing lights.

“Must’ve taken him forever.” your friend muttered as she let the weed fall to the floor, her hands now feeling sticky.

“I wish he had told me about this, man. It’s been ages since I’ve smoked. Could’ve helped him out…” you whined, following her.

“Hey!” Ellie called out for you and you looked at her, seeing the videotape she was holding on her hand. “He’s got that videotape thing.”

“Huh. Let’s see what he’s got.” you scoffed, bending just the slightest to get a hold on the rest. “ ‘Dong of the Wolf’, ‘Smash Brandi’s Cooch’…” you read their titles and Ellie frowneds.

“Are these…”

“It’s porn.” you confirmed and she laughed.

“Interesting taste, Eugene…”

You two moved on until something caught her attention.

“y/n. Look. It’s a gas mask bong.” she said while walking towards you for you to see.

You sigh. “God, he was so smart…” you whine and take it from her hands, putting it on. “How do I look, huh?” you inquired her with a silly smile that she couldn’t see as you posed for her.

“Well… It certainly is a look.” she shrugged and you frowned, taking it off and putting it back where she had found it.

“Rude…”

“Oh, shut up. You love it.” she said as she walked away, unable to see just how hard you rolled your eyes behind her back. “Ah…” she mumbled as she took a glass jar from the tables.

“Oh…” you came closer, eyes in the jar. “There you go.” you smiled, taking it and inspecting it. “Jackpot.”

“You think it’s still good?” Ellie questions, and you shrug.

“Mmm-mm. Let’s find out.” you said as you tried opening it. You groaned when it wouldn’t, bending over yourself to push the lid harder.

“You having a hard time?” she inquired you as she unbuttoned her jacket, after having left her backpack on the floor. She seemed amused by your struggling.

“No, I got it.” you promised, but the lid wouldn’t fucking budge. “Fuck.” you said and her hands were ready to take it.

“Give me.”

“Oh yeah, like you’re going to get it.” you rolled your eyes just as she rolled up her sleeves. And then, with a quick and harsh motion of her wrist, the lid popped open. “You bitch.” you said, shocked and at the same time hurt. Your pride was hurt.

“You were saying…?” she cockily asks and you push her on the chest, trying to ignore just how good her hands were looking and how their veins were visible. Shit.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” you huffed, taking one of the perfectly rolled blunts in between your fingers and smelling it. She put the jar back on the table. You smelled it, smiling. “Smells good.” you handed it to her so she could do the same, but instead, she looked at you and slowly pulled it up to her plush lips, taking it on her mouth.

You stared as she sat down on the couch. “I mean… We’re gonna be stuck her a while, right?” she shrugged and you squinted your eyes with a little smile. Oh you knew where this was going…

You shook your head, amused, and sat down beside her, your back against the side of the sofa, legs to your chest. “Totally trapped…” You looked at her as she lit it and took a drag, closing her eyes when her throat burned. Her side profile was beautiful, with her perfect nose and long eyelashes, reddish cheeks decorated with freckles…

You wanted nothing more than inhale back in the smoke she was letting out her lungs.

You accepted the blunt when she offered it to you, taking a hit and smiling as you threw your head backwards. “Shit. That’s good.” she let out a chuckled watching you, leaning backwards against the sofa with her legs spread, perfectly exposing her firm thighs. Oh what you’d do to be able to sit on them…

You two shared the joint in between a little chatting, taking in the peace of the place and just how comfortable you were around each other despite last night’s events.

You were high out of your mind when she talked once again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I don’t know, can you?” you eyes, reddish and half-lidded squinted at her, an amused smile decorating your face.

She shook her head with the same smile before going back to you and moving to face you just the slightest. “Scale of one to ten…” she started and you offered her the blunt. “One being like absolute trash, and ten being life-altering… How would you rate our kiss last night?” she inquired, now fully facing you and taking a hit.

You felt warmth crept up your cheeks, your heart pounding faster inside your chest. You scratched nervously your neck. “Why are we still talking about this?” you asked, taking the blunt and taking a drag. “You said it was a mistake.”

“Did I say that?” Ellie frowned, looking at you, raising her eyebrows, not truly believing it.

You leaned in, looking at her with those beautiful eyes of yours, your legs now one against the other and bended to look at her. “What are you doing?”

“I asked you to rate our kiss.” she repeated while stealing the blunt, her eyes flickering just the slightest to your lips.

“I don’t know…” you shrugged, looking at your lap and away from her green eyes.

“I’d give it a six.” she said after having thought it through.

“A six?!” you inquire, astonished, taking the blunt and smoking a little bit more. “Wow…” you nodded as you exhaled the smoke.

“Like a solid six.” she continued.

“Okay.” Ouch.

“There were a lot of people around.” she clarifies and you look at her.

“Yeah, but, six?”

“Oh, what?” she takes the blunt. “I mean, now I really want to know how you’d rate it.” she said and you looked away.

“I don’t think you do.” you mumbled, and once you looked back and found her smirking. Cocky. “You’re infuriating.” you groaned.

“Have you met you?” she contra-attacked, sarcastic. She was getting closer.

“You make me want to go back outside into that blizzard.” you said, and she smiled, leaning so close you almost lost your breath, her eyes on yours.

“No one is stopping you.” she whispered, and that made you look at her lips. They looked so fucking soft. And for what you knew, they felt just as they looked. She smiled, looking at your dazed face and down at your lips, dampening her own and watching you bit your lower one.

“This better be better than a six.” you whispered and she smiled, flicking and throwing away the remains of the blunt to harshly grab your face and bring you towards her lips. You let out a gasp at the contact, at the intensity. She was kissing you so passionately you felt like melting in between her arms.

She bit down on your lip and you let out a moan that allowed her to push her tongue inside your mouth, humming. Your tongue met hers and after a few seconds she pulled away to look at your eyes before leaning back in once again. You smiled against her lips, her hands leaving your face to grab at your hips and push you back onto the sofa, climbing on top of you. The kiss was heated, not like last night’s. Was needy, was perfect.

Your fingers found her hair and pulled, making her moan in your mouth. She breathed against your lips with her eyes closed as she pulled back and you smiled, raising your eyebrows when her reddish eyes found yours. “Better than a six, huh?” you cockily inquired her and she groaned.

“Shut up.” and she really made you shut up, ‘cause her lips were back on yours. She sucked on your bottom lip, making you whine, before starting to kiss down your jaw and neck, sucking on your skin and making you tug harder on her hair.

“Ah, shit, Ellie. It hurts.” you said as she latched to your neck, biting and licking the marks she’d leave behind to help with the sting. But you really weren’t paying attention to the pain, since now her hands were unzipping your jacket.

“It hurts, baby?” she sarcastically pouted, before you could come back with a smart answer, her leg pushing in between your thighs and against your cunt.

“Fuck.” you moaned when she bucked your hips against her thigh, making you ride it, your jeans pressing against your clit from above your underwear.

“That’s it. Ride my thigh, baby.” she smirked against your chest when you started to press yourself against her harder. You helped her rip off your shirt, leaving you naked from your waist up. “Fuck. No bra?” she inquired, and you moaned when one of her hands grasped your right tit. “You’re so fucking pretty…” she muttered against your skin before her lips latched to your left breast, sucking on your nipple, her index and thumb pinched the other, overstimulating you and making you whine.

“Ellie…” you sighed her name, taking the hand that was on your waist and pulling from it to push it against and between your thighs. “Please, touch me, please…”

“Shit.” she cursed, quickly getting rid of the button of your jeans and throwing them aside after having dragged them down your legs, leaving you solely on your underwear for her to see. “So fucking beautiful…” she whispered, taking off her own shirt and bra before pulling herself closer and on top of you one more time. You moaned when her fingers pushed against your panties, playing with your clit over them. You were so sensitive due to the weed that you felt like crying.

She kissed you as her hand pushed your underwear to the side, letting your glistening cunt made contact with the cold air of the basement. “Oh god…” your head got thrown backwards when she finally touched you, her fingertips glistening with your arousal and sliding so easily in between your lips.

“ ‘S that for me?” she inquired, her head dizzy with the feeling of just how wet you were for her, how pretty you looked under her body, with her fingers on your cunt.

You nodded, whimpering when her middle finger started to circle your clit, electricity cursing through your veins.

“Use your words for me, pretty girl. I want to hear you.” she said, kissing your neck, and you moaned when she plugged her middle finger inside, your walls tightening around it and sucking it in.

“Yes, yes, Ellie. ‘S for you, only for you.” you breathed out, feeling as she started to fuck it in and out of you, the dirty sounds your pussy was making while taking her finger filling the room and making your cheeks burn.

“Atta girl, taking it so good. Listen to her, she’s so wet and ready for me…” she sucked on your nipples and you threaded your fingers on her hair, arching your back when she curled her finger and found that spongy spot inside of you that made your skin burn and your thighs shook. “There it is.” she smiled, curling it again, and again, and again… Until you were a moaning mess underneath her. You were so lost on the pleasure, so needy for her…

“Please Ellie, please, fuck, fuck me, fuck me please…” you begged.

“Such a good girl, asking for it so nicely… You want me to fuck you baby? Leave you all pretty and fucked out?” you nod, and she chuckles when you start to undo her jeans. “Needy, are we?” she teased and you whined.

“Please, Ellie…” she gave in, ‘cause truth be told, she needed you just as badly as you needed her. She got rid of your and her underwear, kneeling in front of you. She was perfect. Perfect with everything he would had on, and off.

She straddled one of your thighs so her glistening cunt would be pressed against yours. You two let out a moan at the contact.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Ellie…” you cried out as she started to move, your clits pressing against the other and making you whimper.

“Shit, you feel so good…” she moaned, taking your hips to grind against you harder, your juices mixing with each other’s as your pussies slides one against the other.

“Please don’t stop.” you begged, kissing her, grasping at her back and clawing at her skin, already over the edge due to her previous toying and teasing.

“I won’t, baby, I won’t. Are you close, hm? Are you gonna come for me?” you nodded, a whimper leaving your lips.

“Yes, yes, fuck.” tears were brimming your eyes, the pleasure was too strong. Her hands felt like pure fire against your skin.

“That’s it, good girl. Cum for me, baby. Wanna see you fall apart.” and with that your back arched, your walls clenching down on nothing and pulsing as you gushed against her cunt and moaned over and over again, each time louder as you reached your peak. “Fuck.” she muttered, watching as you came undone, fucking you and herself through it until she too was falling over the edge and on top of you, moaning and groaning against your neck.

The two of you were breathing heavily, bodies sticky with sweat and glued together. You could feel her quickened heartbeat. She left soft fluttery kisses against your neck and up your cheek towards your lips, where she left a sweet peck.

“Then… Better than a six?” you inquired her and she hit you on the shoulder, making you laugh and making her follow you.

“You’re so stupid.” she shook her head, and you kissed her.

“Oh, shut up, you love it.” you whispered against her lips before she’d lean in and kiss you again. Hands on your hips, his thumb drawing circles on your skin. And just as her tongue entered your mouth, you heard someone screaming your names.

“Ellie? y/n?! Are you two down there?” you pulled apart and looked at each other with eyes widened and faces that clearly said: fuck, Jesse.

You two quickly got up, staggering to get your clothes aback on. You pulled on your underwear and pants, reaching for your shirt as you screamed back.

“Yeah! We’re here! But… Don’t come down! Stay there!”

“Oh fuck.” Ellie said as she fought to put on her sports bra. And if you weren’t about to get caught post-sex, you would have stopped to stare at her smushed tits.

“What the hell are you two doing down… Oh my god!” Jesse screamed and looked away when he caught a glimpse of your naked back and Ellie’s naked legs.

“Fuck, Jesse!” you screamed at him.

“I’m sorry, shit. I didn’t know you two… Fuck.”

“Just shut up, and turn around, oh my god!” he did what you asked so you two could finish dressing up, although Ellie was having a little too much fun kissing your neck instead of helping you put your shirt on.

a/n; fun fact, i dreamed about ellie after smoking last night and now i can’t get her out of my head.😭

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asumofwords · 9 months

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Angst, violence, fear, anxiety, PTSD, mentions of rape.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Full speed ahead from here... Buckle the fuck in my babies, let's get this show on the road! I think we all knew that something was coming and here we are... Rapid fire posting from here on out, are you ready? Again, as always, thank you, thank you, thank you all so very much for all your love and continued support! You guys have made writing this so much fun! <3

Chapter 97: Consequences

The sun rose slowly that morning, the room being cast in its gentle warm glow.

Shadows danced across the wall, growing larger with every hour that passed, and every crawling step that the sun took to get higher and higher in the sky.

You laid as you were, nestled beneath the sheets, with your hand still reaching for the blade Aemond had gifted you upon his departure.

Always ready.

Always waiting.

For him.

The maids woke alongside the sun, stretching long arms above their bodies to straighten their spines, vertebrae’s clicking into place and aches settling into their muscles after sleeping on chaises and chairs for many nights straight.

They rose, and helped you rise, dressing you in a deep black and red skirt, with a black leather bustier top. The shoulders were cuffed with metal, with long dripping hoops of chains that pressed cooly against the bare skin of your arms. The neck was high fitting, and splayed outwards like dragon wings.

As you sat at the table, waiting for the two girls to bring you food to break your fast, Amala entered first, a short bow, and the quietest of apologies on her tongue. The action caused panic to rear its ugly head within you, and so you darted your head backwards towards the bed, seeking out the place you knew the blade to be hidden, with your eyes.

Movement in your periphery, you turned your head, and met the deep brown eyes of Alicent Hightower, dressed in an even deeper green gown, tight arms and stiff neck, standing in your chambers.

“Good Morrow, Princess.” She greeted you, hands clasped gently at her front.

Your brows twitched as you looked at her, “Alicent.”

The Dowager Queen walked towards you slowly, “I thought I might join you to break our fasts together.”

You blinked at the Hightower. Her hair was half up, half down, pinned away from her face in a thick braid that Helaena used to wear across the top of her scalp, auburn wisps curling away from her face, escaping the style.

You opened your palm towards Aemond’s empty seat. A silent invitation to join you. A motion for her to sit. An unlikely guest in your chambers whom you had no real power to turn away.

A guest in whom you had to welcome regardless of the desire to slit her throat.

Alicent moved slowly, as though she was floating across the stones. Her feet did not make sounds as she walked, an entirely silent ordeal that made you see Alicent in Aemond in more ways than you had thought before.

Both having to have been seen and not heard. Quiet and dutiful. It was all there, the reflection of a mother in her son. The silent resentment of all those around. The even quieter pain that lingered behind the pairs eyes, pain from duty, pain from having no voice, pain from being trapped to the shadows of men before them.

Pulling out her chair, she seated herself down, eyes flicking about the chambers in inspection.

What she was looking for, you did not know.

It was not long until Joanna, helped by Amala, brought in the food and plates for the both of you. It was as if the Queen had planned this breakfast, and that it was not at all as spur of the moment as she wished it to seem.

Alicent Hightower was always making calculated moves.

You wondered what this one was for.

“And how are you?” She asked gently, thanking the girls as they bowed and left the chambers for you to be alone with the older woman.

You cleared your throat, serving yourself a plate of food as you stared at her. You let out a deep sigh through your nose and responded, “I have been better.”

There was no point in lying to her, nor did you wish to soothe any anxieties she, in your opinion, was most likely to have. And though you wished to have nothing to do with the woman seated opposite you, there was no denying the similarities that you both shared. The combined struggle that the both of you would understand, even wordlessly.

You were both women.

Alicent mirrored your actions, serving herself a plate of eggs, toast and cooked tomatoes, “It seems to be something we can all agree on.”

You blinked at her.

“What happened to you,” She began, hands placed delicately in her lap, which you knew to mean she was picking at the skin of her nails, “Was a horrific set of unforeseen circumstances. The Gods-“

“Unforeseen.” You hummed, picking up your goblet of fresh juice taking a sip, “Unforeseen for myself and Aemond, perhaps. But the King and his Council knew that I was to be brought to the Throne Room that day. You knew.”

Alicent cut herself a piece of toast, smearing egg onto its crispy surface, “I had cautioned the King against such an-“

“Alicent, you could not caution an ant if you wished.” You breathed, cutting into your own toast with far more vigour than needed.

“Aemond was not privy to know-“

“As I am now aware.” You swallowed the bread thickly, “Please be transparent about your coming today.”

Alicent’s doe-y features hardened, and the calculating serpent you had become accustomed to, was revealed to the room, though her eyes still stayed soft, “I came to speak to you about my son.”

“Which one? The rapist, my husband, or the corpse?”

The reminder of Daeron set Alicent’s teeth on edge, jaw clenched as she stared at you, “Aemond.” She grit out.

“My husband then." You gave her a clipped smile, "What did you need to speak to me of, which you could no doubt ask him yourself? Do you not have a better relationship with him than I?”

“I wished to hear it from your own lips.”

“My lips have said many things about your sons, my husband especially. What does the famed Green Queen want to know?” You sighed, munching on some star fruit as the Lady Alicent Hightower struggled to keep her frustrations at bay.

“Do you love him?”

You laughed.

You didn’t mean to.

But you just did.

Alicent was not impressed, and seemed all together confused.

“If I did not love him, I would not be here still.”

“You would. It is a marriage-“

“-I would have thrown myself from the window like Helaena if I did not, or ripped his throat out with my teeth..." You paused, "Or yours."

It was blunt.

Raw.

And hurt the both of you.

You strummed your fingers against the table loudly, looking down as you contemplated your next words.

“I love him. That is the truth of it. A sick and twisted truth if anything, but something I could have never fought. The Gods made us for each other. It is known. But my love for him does not outweigh the hurt he has inflicted upon me. He is still a Kinslayer.”

Alicent tilted her head, leaning back in her chair, chestnut waves falling over her shoulder, “As are you." One singular eyebrow raised, "I think you seem to forget.”

“How can one forget a life one took?" You spoke flatly, disinterested in the actions of the past, "My only consolation was that it was war when I did it. Aemond however, pushed the first piece on the board to start the others that fell. Like mother, like son.”

Alicent ate another piece of her eggs daintily, lifting to her lips with her fork, before swallowing, “The both of you are Kinslayers, acursed in the eyes of the people.”

You gave her a toothy grin, “Then what better way than to have those who are acursed as Kinslayers to be wed to each other. It would surely bring damnation and shame to any other husband or wife and their House, but the Gods made it so that we are together as one. In actions. In sin. In love. A small mercy really.”

Alicent gave an uneven smile, placing her cutlery back onto her plate, “It's strange, I must admit. The predicament we find ourselves in. But if anything, I am glad that it was you. That meek Baratheon girl would not have survived my son, I'm afraid.”

You frowned, and Alicent continued, “I would have no better match for Aemond. You have both always loved each other. You know each other better than anyone else, and at times, though it pains me to admit it, you know my son better than I do. You see him. All of him. The good and the bad. My parts that played in it, and yours. And I believe the Seven helped to bring you together.”

“It was the Old Gods, not the Seven.”

Alicent merely stared at you for a time, picking her napkin up to dab at her lips before placing the napkin back on the table, “With any luck, Aemond should return soon.” She stood, pushing her chair back as she smoothed out her skirts.

“Godspeed.” You prayed, and watched as she bowed and left your chambers.

You finished your breakfast without the presence of the Dowager Queen, and when you were done, you made your way down to the Library to read.

When you entered the Library it was quiet and still, with one lone servant stoking the flames in the large fireplace, placing three to four large logs inside carefully.

As they heard your entrance, they bowed at the hip, keeping their face to the ground before they scuttled out of the room like a rodent.

You perused the isles of books for some time, fingers tracing over the worn spines, and dusted covers. Leather and embroidered tomes combined. As you came to one isle in particular, you thought back on the way Aemond had taken you against the shelves, face diving between your folds, his tongue lapping at you feverently before spearing you upon his cock.

Your core clenched at the memory.

Picking a tome at random, you pulled the heavy leather bound book from the shelf, making your way to seat yourself before the fire as you opened it up in your lap. The first page was worn, and faded, but the script was slanted beautifully by a careful hand.

‘Maegor the Cruel, The Usurpation of Aegon the Uncrowned, and The Seven Faith Militant. A History.’

You had picked quite the intense read, but began it nonetheless.

‘Maegor the First was the son of King Aegon the First and his eldest sister-wife, Queen Visenya Targaryen. Maegor was born of fire and blood, the prodigy of Aegon the Conqueror, A King who laid waste to all the realms who did not bend the knee on the back of Balerion the Black Dread. Maegor the Cruel had an older half-brother, Aenys the First, who was said to be a fair and just Prince.’

The day floated by as you read the history of Maegor and his violent rise to power.

‘Maegor had six wives, to which the Faith strongly rebuked, polygamy a sin in the eyes of the Seven Faith. Ceryse Hightower, and Alys Harroway - who was later killed by his third wife Tyanna of the Tower. Then, there were the Black Brides; Elinor Costayne, Jayne Westerling, and his niece, Rhaena Targaryen.’

The warmth of the fire settled over you gently, and your eyes excitedly read each page as you got more and more into the violence of the Cruel King. You had read the history once before, but you had been young and under the Septa’s supervision, which made learning about him boring and irksome.

By now you had gotten half way through the tome.

‘At the death of his father, Aegon the First, his brother Aenys ascended the throne. Maegor was still exiled for his sins in marrying a second wife, and soon after his ascent to the Iron Throne, King Aenys passed. Maegor seized the throne, and crowned himself King. Yet his rule would not be an easy one. Some moons later, Prince Aegon, Maegor’s nephew, laid claim to the Iron Throne, as was his birth right.’

The sound of the library doors echoed in the chambers, but you did not raise your head.

‘Prince Aegon’s claim was supported by several Lords of the Westerlands and Riverlands, and so the Prince marched at the head of an army, fifteen thousand men strong. Queen Tyanna, Maegor’s third wife and the Mistress of Whispers, warned that Maegor's allies would turn on him for his nephews claim if there was show of his prevail. In the Battle Beneath The Gods Eye, Maegor and Aegon’s armies clashed, and fought in a bloody and brutal battle. Men were slain from their horses by archers and swordsman, dragon fire lay waste to hundreds of men, the earth under The Gods Eye was soaked with blood, and many soldiers sank into its red mud. Though it came to an end, Maegor slew his nephew and his dragon Quicksilver, tearing them from the sky on the back of the mighty Black Dread. Maegor the Cruel was thenceforth known for his cruelty and labeled a Kinslayer.’

“Princess, Y/n.” A voice pulled you from your book. Your eyes lifted from the page to meet Ser Criston Cole’s.

You straightened your back, looking to the two guards who flanked him either side, feeling a strange sense of dejavu from the scene before you.

“Ser Cole.” You greeted him warily, placing the book atop the table in front of you and standing, body ready to take flight.

Ser Criston lifted his head high, “King Aegon has requested for your presence in the Throne Room.”

You blinked, and you stomach did a small flip, fear rising in your throat.

“And I suppose these guards are there to enforce my presence?”

The two men shifted, their armour scratching against each other, eyes aimed at the wall behind you.

Ser Cole breathed, “No, My Lady.”

“Then tell the King I am busy.” You moved to sit back down, but Ser Cole took a step forward towards you.

It was clear then, that there was no real choice.

Not that you ever had one in the Keep.

It was not a casual invitation that they would like you to believe it was, much like Alicent's breaking her fast with you that morning, but they were not dragging you to the Throne Room, kicking and screaming as they did last time.

It did little to soothe your wrought nerves, but it was at least something.

The small voice in the back of your head screamed that it would be another Maester situation. Your intuition told you to run. Your baser instincts told you to fight.

But what if it was one of the maids?

Panic shot through you, and so you nodded, walking across the room, feeling as though each step further settled your doom. But you could not leave them. If it was one of the maids, if Larys had discovered them, you would not abandon them now in their time of need.

Ser Cole bowed his head to you, holding the door open before he began to lead you to the Iron Throne, the two guards walking closely behind you, ready to snatch you if you so chose to run.

Each step of the men was a shuffle of robes and armour, and you watched the sword on Ser Criston’s side sway heavily with each step, its long blade tapping the side of his thigh.

Each sway reminded you of how Aegon’s hand had swung down, separating the old mans head from his neck. How your Grandsire's blade had tipped at Aegon's side as he descended the steps of the Iron Throne to stand before you.

The blood.

So much blood.

On you.

On the stones.

You wondered for a moment, if the stain would still be there, or if they had tasked some poor servants to scrub it out of the porous surface as though their lives depended on it.

You tried to steady your breathing. Counting each step as you saw the large doors to the Iron Throne. Fifty-one. Fifty-Two. Fifty-Three. Fifty-Four.

Kings guards opening the heavy wood doors with steel bracketing along its face to let you in.

Ser Cole walked ahead of you announcing you to the chambers, as you held your hands behind you, fingers digging sharply into the flesh of your palm. The King Maker voiced boomed as you looked to Aegon, who was seated upon the throne, lazily leaning on one side with his chin in his palm, as though summoning you back to the Throne Room was a chore and a bore.

The Small Council were about the chambers, dressed in their robes and House colours, watching you with careful and guarded eyes, though nervousness shifted their bodies.

And there, beside the throne, once again, was Aemond.

His presence did little to settle your nerves.

It was happening again.

Gods, please, help me.

Aemond's gaze had snapped to you as soon as you had entered, and although he stood tall and stiff, hands behind his back and face impassive, your presence had clearly come as a surprise.

Again.

Aemond looked blindsided.

Completely at a loss as to why you were there, and it showed in his eye.

The Prince looked as though he had only just arrived back in Kings Landing, dressed still in his riding leathers, hair pulled back and away from his face by braids, and lips pressed into a thin line. His brows had furrowed as he looked at you.

But Aemond hadn’t come straight to you as he usually did.

Something was amiss.

“Husband,” You called out to him, schooling your voice to hide the rising panic, “I am gladdened to see you hale and hearty and returned home.” You gave him a small smile, and turned to the King, “You requested my presence, Your Grace?”

Aegon did not smile at you.

He did not even sneer.

The King merely stared at you with his intense, violet eyes, lips slightly pursing in thought before straightening into a flat line, much like his brother. But beneath those bright eyes you had come to fear, there was something simmering beneath.

Rage.

Swallowing and sensing that you were in danger, you turned to face your husband again, “Did you find the men who were responsible at the Red Fork?”

Aemond was still, shoulders tensed, head turning to look up at his brother who still sat staring at you, crown atop his head. You watched as your husbands lips opened to speak.

Otto Hightower stepped forward, his greying and receding hair shimmering in the light that poured in from the windows. His robes of green were trimmed with fur around his neck and chest, and the pin of the Hand of the King sat against his breast.

“You stand before King Aegon the Second, rightful heir to the Iron Throne.” His voice sent chills down your spine, skin breaking beneath your nails in your palm. It was happening again, “You have been brought before the King and his Council to answer for the crimes you are being charged.”

Your immediate thought was to turn to Aemond, to ask him what was happening, to beg him for help, but you remembered the last time this had happened. You remembered the last time he had stood there and watched.

You remembered as he had done nothing.

You remembered that you were alone.

Again.

Otto straightened, a ringing in your ears beginning to grow louder, “You are accused of treason; For the slaying of the Kings unborn child, aided by the traitor Maester. You are accused of conspiring with Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen against the Crown. You are accused of attempting to recruit Prince Aemond Targaryen to turn cloak and help your mothers cause. How do you plead against these charges?”

“What?” Your voice was so small, and sounded so far away.

This was it.

There was no going back now.

Aegon straightened on the monstrous throne of melted swords, “The Princess was given a gift by the Seven when my seed was put into her womb. She had made a confession to ensuring the death of her pregnancy out of spite when the Maester was charged. She has murdered my son. The Kings son. A highest of treasons.”

Your throat felt dry, “You raped me.”

Aegon’s lip twitched from the smirk he was holding back, “The Princess seduced me with promises of good behaviour for favours and fruit. Star fruit is your favourite, is it not?”

Aegon moaned as he heard you whimper, and let go of your throat, a lungful of air racing through your mouth as you gasped. Aegon fucked himself into you, the sound of his grunts and his flesh slapping against yours filled the chambers with your sobs.

Aemond bristled beside his brother, eye narrowed on you. His posture was straight, and as your eyes flicked from one brother to the other, you realised there was no hope.

There was no hope for you.

Aemond had made his choice.

And it was never to be you.

Aegon leant forward on the throne, silver hair shimmering in the light, “The Princess came to me after Prince Aemond left for Harrenhal. She was alone and angry at knowing that my brother was having an affair with the bastard wet-nurse, Alys Rivers. She begged me to warm her bed, and to give her an heir so that my brother would not suspect a thing.”

“You think the Knight would help you?” Aegon sneered, as you thrashed beneath him, pushing at him with all your strength, “Do you think he would listen to you? I could command him to come in here and make him watch, and he would do it. Should I call him for you?” He growled, fingers tightening around your throat, the room beginning to spin.

You swallowed thickly, the sounds of Aegon’s grunts breaking forth in your memory.

The night he attacked you.

The night he raped you.

The night that changed everything.

“That's a lie.” Your voice cracked, looking up at the King, “You came to my chambers, and held me down, and raped me.” Your eyes flicked across the room, meeting a pair of distressed brown ones, “Alicent, you know this to be the truth. You were there. You helped me.”

Alicent stepped forward, turning to her son, “Is this true, Aegon? Perhaps the Princess had not known the implications. The Maester must have deceived her, or forced her to do as she did under threat.”

Alicent had given you Moon Tea after Aegon.

She knew.

And she was lying.

"You're lying!" You sneered at the auburn haired woman.

Aegon looked down at his mother in mock pity, “Lord Larys Strong told me that she had been given Moon Tea after she was given my son. She had willingly and enthusiastically drank it, as she knew it was my child inside of her.”

Your stomach twisted in knots, and you felt as though you were going to be sick. But the anger of seeing Alicent play games with her own son, whilst her other watched you, was simply too much for you to bear.

Damn them all.

“The Queen gave me the Moon Tea.” You declared, voice clipped, "Is that not an act of treason? Try your own blood before the Council for the sins of your flesh.” Your hands came down to your side, clenched into fists.

You were not going to die in cowardice.

You would bite, and scratch, and claw until the end.

As you always had done.

“Princess Y/n, might I remind you that you are before the Small Council and King Aegon. You will have time to speak for your innocence when the King has finished his petition.” Otto cautioned you.

Your breathing became laboured, shallow, angry breaths that heaved.

It was that rage again.

That same rage that you had pushed down and away, that had been there at your finger tips, just beneath the surface of your skin, hiding in the shadows. The rage that you had clipped and preened like a rose bush, to not prick yourself on its thorns.

A rage that was innately yours.

Aegon straightened himself, the golden chains that sat heavily against his chest swaying with movement. He shifted, pulling himself to be seated in a stiff and upright position, as though one of the swords he was seated upon had slipped up his spine.

He looked every bit his mother.

And then he thought.

And the silence of the chambers was almost as deafening as the ringing in your ears. The pounding of your heart in your head, the rushing of the blood in your veins. You felt every bone in your body, the weight of them, the feel of them. Every tooth in your skull felt as though they were not sitting correctly, your tongue heavy and too large for your mouth.

Aemond shifted again in your periphery, taking two short steps forward towards you.

Coward.

“Swear yourself to me.” The King boomed in the chambers, his voice echoing in the space and decision made.

Aegon pushed himself to stand, looking down his nose at you.

“Bend the knee, and swear me as your King.”

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soundlessdreamss · 4 months

Note

PLEASE PLEASE ALASTOR X scaramouche FEM READER PLEASE ROMANTIC

Hihihihi! Welcome to my blog and of course I can write this. I am familiar with his character so I’ll do the best of my abilities to make sure it fits him! Also request are open!

ALASTOR X FEM SCARAMOUCHE!READER

( Ignore the cat, I had no idea what else to put lol :3 )

you were wandering around without any real intentions. You already lost the three most important people you trust, no you didn’t lose them. They betrayed you after you gave them YOUR trust.

as you were in your own mind thinking about all that’s happened a poster flies into your face and you decide to take it off and see what it even is. The poster read “want to be redeemed for a chance to live in heaven! Well come and visit the hasbin hotel!!” It had a photo of the hotel and a smiley face on it. You were bored out of your mind especially with all these dumb sinners, you decided why not go there then? It’s not like anyone remembered who you were before anyways.

after you flew to the hotel with your elemental skill…

It didn’t take you too long to get to the hotel, it was quite easy to see as it was big and bright. And also out in the open. You prepared yourself as you went to knock on the door but paused. What if they broke your trust like how your old friends broke it? What if you make a bad impression? What if you manage to screw everything up once you actually become friends with them?

you couldn’t let that stop you though, you made sure no one old remembers you after you completely changed your identity for the better. Sometimes it’s best to let go of the past. You knocked on the door and waited for someone.

as you waited suddenly the door burst open and a blonde haired girl appeared with a greyish/white haired girl behind her. The blonde one quickly introduced herself as Charlie and the one behind her introduced herself as Vaggie. Charlie seemed overjoyed that someone actually came to the hotel.

once you entered you noticed there was also a spider looking person, a literal human sized snake, a cat, and a small maid the size of a child. But one of the people you saw there caught your eye, he was wearing a red suit and his hair kinda looked like it had ears. You found out from Charlie that his name was Alastor.

He walked over to you and inspected your look. He found you quite intriguing compared to the other females he met in his life, and his hell life. Like the gentleman he is he grabbed your hand and gave a small kiss to it. He politely introduced himself even though Charlie already did but you didn’t mind. You decided to also introduce yourself to him.

as you were walking to your hotel room, Alastor decided to accompany you on the way there even though it wasn’t a long walk. He just wanted to help you get settled in. You guys both realized you had way more in common than you thought, not being able to trust people enough, mother issues, (😭) and also loving to give people a taste of their own medicine.

as you got to your room he offered to get you some food or tea if you’d like. You decided that tea wouldn’t be that bad as it was quite nice to drink tea during the afternoon. He made both of you guys a tea and walked you to the balcony where he opened the door for you to enter first, pulled the chair out for you, and poured you some tea. It was really kind of him even though you barley knew eachother yet.

the afternoon went by so fast as the two of you chatted about your own interests and what you liked. Before you knew it, the night had already settled in and you got a bit sleepy. You both decided that it would be time to rest and you both said your goodbyes. Maybe it would be just fine at this hotel with him around.

two months later…

you and alastor became inseparable after two months together. Like two peas in a pod, you guys were so alike and did so much fun things together! There was a secret you were hiding from him though, the fact that you were starting to grow a crush on him. (Not to worry as he was also growing a crush and attachment to you.)

it got so obvious to the other staff members of the hotel that you guys liked eachother that they started making bets on who would confess first. But they also realized how you were mainly comfortable around Alastor and trusted him the most. Which was rare for you because you didn’t wanna trust anyone anymore but he made it so hard not to trust him.

Alastor decided to be the one to make the first move because if he didn’t then you guys would’ve just stayed quiet about your feelings. You were afraid of him rejecting you and then being left alone. Again.

he offered to take you out to dinner tonight and you happily accepted. You decided to wear a dark blue dress with a sliver necklace. It felt really pretty on you. Alastor decided to just teleport you to the restaurant he made a reservation at and you guys both made your way to the table.

he of course, pulled the chair out for you to sit on before he even sat down. “sooo, what would you like to order dear?” The sudden pet name caught you off guard but he kinda spoke like that to every female so you kept your cool. “I think I’ll just have [whatever your favorite food is reader!].”

Alastor nodded and he placed your orders. In the mean time you both chatted and he started becoming a bit more touchy than usual, like if you put your arm on the table he would slowly brush his hand against it. You know the usual trying to hit on a girl movements.

after a couple minutes both of you're food came and you decided to eat. It was silent as you guys were both eating but after you were done you guys decided to stay there for a bit before leaving. Alastor grabbed your hand as you guys left and pulled you close.

“listen I know this place that I think you’ll love, just close your eyes and trust me alright? He spoke out, this got you all curious now but you just nodded as he covered your eyes and led you there.

after a couple minutes of walking he then took his hands off your eyes and you didn’t realize how close he was. But also the scenery of where he took you was beautiful for hell, it felt like it has romantic vibes in the air. He then took both of your hands and looked you deep in your eyes.

“I have been dying to tell you something dear. Please let me speak for just a couple of minutes because I simply cannot wait anymore.”

you felt your heart racing and you nodded as you waited for him to speak.

“I never thought I could find love in any way shape or form, but when you appeared you suddenly made me feel something. Like a spark was ignited in my heart. I don’t know why you make me feel this way but it’s an amazing feeling. Please dear, tell me if you feel the same.”

was he implying that he loved you? Yeah he was, he just didn’t know how to explain it because this was the first time he genuinely felt it in his heart. It took you a couple of seconds to process what he said and your face turned red from you blushing. (Very logical for your face to turn red when you blush, yes.)

you wanted to give him a kiss right then and there but you’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time and you wanted to make it special.

“Alastor I feel the same way. I felt as if everyone left me and broke my trust so many times, but you never did. I know we only met a while ago but you set a spark in my heart that I didn’t know I still had.”

you and him were overjoyed that you both felt the same way about eachother. He then moved his hands so they cupped your face and brought you into a kiss. It didn’t last long but it felt good. Suddenly you heard rustling in the bushes behind you guys. And you saw six heads pop out. Charlie, Vaggie, Angel dust, Husk, Sir pentious, and Nifty.

“I TOLD YOU ALASTOR WOULD BE THE ONE TO MAKE THE FIRST MOVE!” Angel dust shouted and then the other five took out money and handed it over to him. They were seriously spying and betting on you two. It made you feel heavily embarrassed though. But in the end you got what you wanted so you ignored the embarrassment and just focused on the spark your heart felt right now.

Note: hiiiii again! Thanks for reading all of this if you made it this far. I tried my best with the Scaramouche reader but it was lowkey hard. I hope you enjoyed though!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #scaramouche reader #fem reader #hazbin hotel

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silkscream · 5 months

Text

CHAPTER 2: HEAVEN CANNOT WAIT FOREVER

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

He feels you shake. Earth-shattering, the feeling of you. Like you’re breaking the sky for him. It roots something deep inside him that wasn’t there before. Something blooming between violence and gauzy ecstasy. It knots his stomach until he breaks, too.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: smut (18+ mdni), virginity loss, protected sex (yay!!), fingering, satoru is annoying

ੈ✩ wc: 4.4k

ੈ✩ a/n: SMUT TIMEEEEE! one of my fav chapters just because it's so sweet. title is from the first taste by fiona apple. i'd love feedback <3 if you just comment about updates i will summon mahoraga on you.

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

July, 2008

In front of you, the Gojo estate sprawls out. It's oversized and sukiya-style, adorned with gardens full of hanashobu. When you were younger and more naive, you daydreamed that your wedding ceremony would happen in such a place. The idea makes you feel silly now.

You now find the gargantuan display of wealth a bit repulsive, despite growing up here.

The emerging summer heat makes the back of your knees feel sticky already. You had opted for a simple shirt dress, light and linen, and robin’s egg blue, thinking Satoru would like the color.

God, this was stupid. He wouldn’t be paying attention to the color of your dress — he’d be much more concerned with what’s underneath. The thought makes your stomach flip, birds and wasps flurrying in your diaphragm. The kiss you’d shared hadn’t left your mind for days. You wonder if it was the same for him.

You're surprised that he's there to greet you himself. Otherwise, you would've let yourself in. He smiles at you, looking unfairly handsome in a black t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s not wearing his sunglasses.

“Look who decided to show up.”

You hum in greeting, brushing past him to move toward the stairs.

“Eager, are we?” he teases. “You didn’t even get me flowers.”

“You have a whole garden of them outside.”

“They’re much prettier when you arrange them, Twigs.”

He cocks his head to the side, eyes lingering on an ikebana sitting on the foyer table. You had arranged it last week. You sigh, immediately regretting your decision until he pushes you lightly on the small of your back. His cologne is sharp under your nose. Has he always smelled this good?

It didn’t occur to you that Satoru would ever wear cologne. He’d always smelled like plain soap, white musk. Boyish sweat after he’d play in the courtyard with you.

You follow him up the long staircase and into his bedroom. It’s plain as it always was — neutral colors and traditional paintings on the walls, courtesy of his mother. The only difference is that a king-sized bed replaces the tatami mat he’d preferred as a child.

You try not to look at him, instead, inspecting the bookshelves. You'd read half of his stack by the time you were twelve. Since then, it seemed that Satoru didn't continue an interest in reading the same way you had.

There’s a small photo peeking out of a book — you recognize the top of your head. As you pull it out, you see the two of you grinning in front of a lake. You are eight years old, freshly toothless, and your pigtails are unruly.

“I miss your braids, you know,” Satoru murmurs. He laughs when you jump a bit at the realization of his presence. The coolness of his palm settles on the nape of your neck. You used to tease him about that — how he’d stalk the hallways like a cat and catch you off guard. You thought he’d ought to wear a bell.

“You just liked tugging on them to piss me off.”

“You’re cute when you’re pissed off,” he shrugs.

You wonder if he can hear the echoing brag of your heart. You can’t blame the heat for how you feel, with his house being the perfect temperature of all times. He’s so casual in his T-shirt compared to you. You’re briefly self-conscious about whether your dress is tacky or garish. Too feminine with its floral pattern. You hadn’t worn the thing in years.

As if he’s read your mind, he calls your name and tells you that he thinks you look pretty today. He beckons you into his lap again.

This time, you sit next to him, too anxious to touch yet. He smiles at you again, cat-like, but sweet. Not teasing in his usual manner.

“You can kiss me, you know.”

“I— I know,” you frown. “I don’t need your permission.”

“Then what are you waiting for, Twigs?”

You close your eyes, pausing in front of his face as you notice his breathing get uneven. A subtle push forward makes you stop against a wall.

“You did not just use your Infinity—”

“Sorry,” Satoru laughs. “Still a little mad that you lied about your technique to me.”

You look at him with wide eyes, bottom lip trembling. Something between shame and self-effacement.

“I’m messing with you. Promise. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Despite that, there was never really any hiding from him. Even though you aren’t as close as you used to be, Satoru is somehow still intuitive to how you feel. It’s why he touches your jaw and curls a lock of your hair in between his fingers. He knows his gentle touch would make a shiver run down your spine.

He kisses you, finally. The way your mouth immediately parts to welcome him makes his stomach stir, a spark to ignite a fire. It’s curious and soft, and when he hears you mumble please when he pulls away, he succumbs completely.

His hand settles on your waist, then your thigh. The crux behind your knee. He doesn’t want to move too quickly despite his desperate desire. Your sweet sounds are making him boil over. It’s all so delicate, hanging on by the thinnest thread, and he doesn’t want to scare you away like a timid animal.

You melt into him, grasping the front of his t-shirt with enough eagerness to surprise him. It occurred to you that you liked surprising him this way. You enjoyed getting him flustered. As you feel his warm palms smoothing the flesh of your thighs, the skirt of your dress is already bunched up.

The sound of him groaning in your mouth is addictive. Even more so when it’s your name between his lips.

“Satoru,” you whisper.

“Yes?”

“I–I want–”

Want you to eat me. Want to stay in your lap.

“Gone speechless already?” he teases, brushing your nose with his despite your glare. “You don’t have to be all shy with me.”

You’d imagined being in his lap like this before, warm and fervid. Dream-like. But it’s more real than anything else, especially when you can feel his hardness underneath you.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Satoru’s voice is strained, raspy. There’s an unsung hymn inside of you somewhere, some cruel and divine power deep within that wants to tear him apart. Hearing him like this makes your pulse quicken.

“I want to,” you whisper. His eyes widen, snowy lashes flickering in surprise as if he wasn’t the one to invite you over. As if he wasn’t the one who had beckoned you into his lap and kissed you first. He’d argue that you’d tempted him if he had the strength to tease you again.

You have the urge to hide inside of him, consume him. There’s a question in the flicker of your eyes when you touch his inner thigh. Your eyes are wide.

Satoru makes a sharp inhale. He’s nervous – more nervous than he’s ever been in this kind of situation. It isn’t like he does this often despite his reputation. With you, it’s something entirely unprecedented.

“Kiss me again,” he says. You do. For a bit, you let the feeling of him wash over you, and then you try something new. Your teeth are at his neck. The nip of your incisors against his throat makes him groan, the sound inciting something wild in you.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

You nod.

He doesn’t undress you, not yet. He merely snakes an arm in between your thighs, gasping at the wetness that’s gathered at your core. Fuck.

“You can lean into me,” he rasps into your hair. “Make yourself feel good.”

You mewl – a helpless sound. A small rock of your hips grants you friction against his hand, but it’s not enough.

“You’re teasing me,” you whine.

“But you like it, don’t you?”

He smiles. Devilish again, like his usual self. He knows you’re a bit repressed, like him, but in a way that’s reserved. He wants to see you come undone, enjoys the begging tone of your moans too much.

Satoru skims his fingers along your thigh, wetting the skin with your slick. He pulls your underwear to the side to find your clit. The pressure of his fingers against it makes you shiver.

Your eyes close as you sigh. You can’t look at him – can’t remind yourself that he can see your face like this, falling apart in small breaths. The coil in your stomach aches.

“Tell me how it feels.” His voice is low, his breath tickling just beneath your ear.

“Good,” you reply, breathless. “Feels really good.”

He wants to ask for permission, but he can’t help it. The sight of your mouth parting in pleasure is so much. He wants to see how your face contorts when he touches you in different places. You have always been his favorite toy, haven’t you?

Without warning, he pushes an index finger into you, stifling a groan at your reaction.

“Want more? How do you like it?”

“I don’t– I don’t know?”

“You don’t touch yourself, Twigs?”

“Satoru, just– oh.”

You’re so wet around him. So tight. His cock throbs at the idea of being inside you.

“Another one?”

“Mhm.”

“Open your eyes. Want you to look at me.”

Your lashes flutter as you gasp into his mouth. He looks at you intently, mesmerized. Your hips jerk, grinding into his lap when he uses his thumb to circle your clit again, this time in a steady rhythm with two fingers inside your cunt.

Satoru exhales into your mouth, his jaw slack and moaning softly as if he’s being stimulated as much as you are. In a way, he is, from the friction of you in his lap. He thinks he might just cum in his pants from watching you. He’s never been this pent-up before.

You finish with a quiet gasp, clutching Satoru’s shoulders as you bury your face into his neck. When you pull back, he’s wonderstruck, eager to kiss your cheeks and your jaw and the space above your collarbone. His fingers, still wet with your slick, enter his mouth. He curses softly. You flush at the sight of his lips all dewy with the taste of you.

“Can I take this off?” He pulls at the hem of your dress. The sound of his voice shakes you back to Earth.

You nod, helping him slip the fabric off of your body.

It’s almost as terrible as it is tantalizing to be so vulnerable in front of him. Bare enough for him to make his mark on you, claiming you forever. You suppose he had done that long ago without you realizing.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he coos. He soothes a palm over your waist.

“Naked, you mean?”

Satoru laughs. Eyes hazy, summer blue. “Yes. But you’ve always been beautiful.”

You want to retaliate with something, ease your nerves with a joke, but the tenderness of his voice renders you speechless.

“Your turn,” you breathe, tugging at his sleeve.

When he rids himself of his shirt and sweatpants, you notice he’s as pale as moonlight. Smooth porcelain and filled-out muscle. Rigid. What happened to the lanky boy that used to pull on your braids?

“Got a staring problem?” he goads.

“Shut up.”

“Maybe if you lay back for me.”

You swallow. You listen to him. He looks at you, your hair fanning out on his pillow, your body bare and ripe for the taking. Satoru sits in front of you and coaxes your legs apart to kiss your knees, the back of your thighs. You mewl when he bites, nipping at you the same way you’d done to his neck.

“Look at you. So fucking pretty. Wanna eat you out.”

You have half a mind to say thank you, but the moment passes. You’re too fixated on the way his eyes trail down your body. How the brevity of his words makes you feel flayed alive.

When he kisses you a little too close to your core, you whine in protest and pull at his hair in a fit. He looks up at you, feigning dejection.

“I’m sorry, baby. What is it that you want, hm?”

Baby. Baby.

“Come kiss me.”

And he does, but it’s more violent this time. He doesn’t hold back on showing you how much he wants you, how badly he’s obsessed with you after seeing you fall apart so sweetly for him. The supercut of it will reel in his head long after this. He’s sure of it.

Satoru laves his tongue over the places on your neck that he’s bitten, and descends to your chest until he hooks his teeth around your nipple. He groans at the sound of your moan. His hands are still roaming, palms gripping the taut flesh of your thighs as he grinds lightly into your body enough for you to feel his hardness.

He wants to give you more, so he teases the swollen nub of your clit again with his fingertips and is delighted to feel that you’re even wetter than before – if that was even possible.

“Satoru!”

“Yes?”

Your breathing is so irregular that you can’t put your desire into words. Not without it tainting you with shame, at least. You plead with big eyes, but Satoru wants to tease you a little more. You wonder if it’s in his nature to be so cruel.

“Use your words, Twigs. What is it? You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles, kissing your temple. “You want a condom?”

You close your eyes, nodding, trying to savor the way he makes you feel and not the terrifying vulnerability that rots in the pit of your stomach. It’s all too much, much more than you had dreamt out, but you’re here now. You know there’s no going back. You know that when you open your eyes to see his soaking in so much light, looking at you with adoration, you wouldn’t want to go back anyway.

He’s quick to prod your entrance again. You nod slightly to permit him, clutching him like a lifeline.

“Let me know if it hurts too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses you hard, consuming you as a distraction as the head of him enters you little by little. You’re wet enough to not feel any resistance. When he’s pushed to the hilt of you, he moans against your mouth. He drinks up your exhale, trying not to consider it a painful one as he runs his fingers through your hair lovingly.

It’s a strange pain. Something of an ache in the core of you, twisting at your insides in a way that also feels like crushing ripe fruit. A delicate sensation as much as it is rough. Satoru is gentle in his movements, brushing your hair out of your face. He looks at you with utmost admiration.

“Is that— is that good?” you whisper.

“I should be asking you that, shouldn’t I?” he says. You feel the rumble of his laugh against your chest. “Does it hurt?”

“Only a little. But it—it feels nice.”

He slides his cock back to thrust into you again, slowly. It’s almost languid, lazy the way he slips back into you like the two of you have just woken up from a dream.

Satoru wants to be intentional with how he fucks you. Even within these past minutes, he’s convinced he’s gotten your reactions down to memory. He’ll be able to touch you in all the right ways the next time you fall into his bed. But if he’s intentional, if he fucks you the way he truly wants to, he’s worried it’ll be too much. Everything he feels for you is too much at the moment.

“Relax for me.” His voice is smooth as butter. Your reaction is a hot knife. You notice that for the first time in a long time, in front of you, his face is blushing pink. It makes your walls tighten around him.

He rolls his hips against yours. It’s ecstasy—the feeling of you encapsulating him in lust, in softness. The drawn-out whine that tumbles out of your mouth makes it all worthwhile as Satoru thrusts with the smallest bit of intention. Softly, lovingly. After a bit, his length begins to make you feel full without all the pain. Skin kissing skin. Insides fluttering.

You don’t notice the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. The pain subsides, but the pleasure stokes the fire in your stomach until it devours you completely.

He hitches your right leg higher, ankle past his shoulder. He feels so fucking reckless, but he’ll satiate you the way you deserve—sweet and painless and passionate. The way your bottom lip trembles is making it so fucking difficult for him to stay gentle, though.

He moans your name and it reminds you of yourself. Of your body, of inhabiting it and being consumed by your best friend who is not your best friend. And you love him, you realize, but it’s a worthless feat to think about it too much during your first time. You can at least play pretend while Satoru is inside of you, as he looks at you like he’s the one in love with you.

He bites at your neck as he ruts into you a little faster. He’s so deep that you think you might go brainless—dizzied with pleasure, overflowing with thrill.

“So fucking tight,” Satoru groans. He pushes up his body now, settles himself on his knees as he holds your thighs firmly. “Look at you. My pretty girl.”

“Satoru—” you whine, feeling too exposed, too bare with him hovering over you like this—“Oh, my god—”

You’re pushed over the edge when he thumbs at your clit again, your cunt tightening around him at the feeling. You look beautiful like this. Tears of an angel. It distracts him a bit, how pretty you look, until he realizes the power he holds over you. Knowing that he’s taking.

“Too rough, baby?” he coos, leaning over to kiss your cheeks, licking up your salty tears.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “S’good. Feels good.”

He’s pushed against you again, head buried into your neck. He pulls at your hair gently, angling your face to look at him. Noses touching. Mouths sharing air.

“Gonna cum,” you whine into a kiss. He groans at your admission, pulling you taut against him as he adjusts you both to your sides. He lifts your leg over his, rolling his hips harder, and the angle makes you cry out.

“Fuck,” he curses. His eyes are wide open, mooning at your face as you cum, and he can feel his release burying inside you to the hilt.

Even after you’re both spent, he’s greedy, still hard inside of you as he continues. Lazy movements, half in tandem with your ragged breaths. He grins at you then, breathless at your blurry gaze. Kisses you sweetly like a shared promise.

The comfortable silence falls between you as you swap kisses. You hum against his lips, caressing his jaw. Your eyes blink at the sight of rain outside his bedroom window. A light drizzle despite the orange sunlight.

“Hm,” Satoru purrs. “We brought the rain.”

“What, with an orgasm?”

“I’m pretty sure you had more than one.”

“You’re so obnoxious,” you mutter.

“And still inside you,” he grins.

He pulls out when you make a grumbled sound, contrasting the melody of his laugh. He has half the mind to take a picture of you like this, sprawled in his bed like a painting. He’d keep the image of it in his wallet if he could.

Instead, he goes to the bathroom to bring you a warm, wet rag and cleans you up. He’s able to catch his breath as he rubs his hands over your bare thighs. You’re changed, glowing, yet your face is so familiar. The same one he’s been fond of for years. The shift inside him aches.

Satoru isn’t sure what to do. Usually, he’s inebriated at this point, and the sex closes with a heavy, dreamless sleep after midnight. The sun shower outside has calmed down, barely there, and afternoon sunlight floods the room. He’s more awake than ever with your presence. He’s surprised you haven’t gotten up to get dressed or made some excuse about leaving. He realizes he doesn’t want you to.

It feels normal when he falls into bed with you after just touching your skin, slips into a sweet afternoon nap. Hours later, you make him dinner. He makes you cum again.

September, 2008

You don’t understand Satoru’s affinity for sugar. You would think he had an addictive personality the way he consumed sweets – you’re surprised he isn’t addicted to something worse, like cigarettes.

Lately, he’s been complaining about craving something sweet before he fucks you. He licks his lips as you share the same mango-flavored popsicle in the courtyard of his estate. Juice dribbling down your chin. It doesn’t take him long to get you knee-deep in the grass. He teases you, tells you your pussy is sweeter. The sweetest.

Other times, you have quiet nights. He watches movies with you in your room and has sex with you before you sleep. Over a few months, Satoru gets accustomed to how you sound when he touches you until he knows you inside out. Expert in the map of your body. Of the pillow-soft places he can tease to make you cum hard.

But he doesn’t take you out after. Or before. It’s always a rendezvous, the rest of the world dead to the both of you as you consume each other. A paradise restricted to a bed. He gets you so dizzy that it doesn’t bother you. He kisses you sweetly on his way out to see his friends. He kisses you sweetly before he’s quick to slip out your door or send you out on his own.

It’s perfect for him. You’re perfect — you feel it.

Satoru likes that you’re so pliable. He can say anything he wants to you and you’ll take it. You’ll even moan for it.

Sometimes he can be mean, sometimes he has tears rolling down your face, but he always kisses them away. He likes that you let him cum in your mouth.

He especially likes that you’re good company outside of the sex. You’re the only mind that gets him besides Suguru. It’s why he likes spending time with you when everyone else is busy. Even if he’s practicing his techniques and you’re splayed on the grass, reading a book.

It’s what you’re doing now. He’s convinced you’re trying to tempt him today. At the moment you’re wearing the pleated skirt from your school uniform, despite it being summer break. The July heat made it unbearable to wear pants. It was laundry day, too, but Satoru insisted on having you come over.

“Come play with me, Twigs,” he calls after you. You look like a dream in your little tank and little skirt. Bare legs with imprints of grass patterns.

“I’m reading.”

“Just because you have a healing technique doesn’t mean that you can’t practice combat.”

“Shoko doesn’t,” you scoff.

“Shoko is going to cheat her way through med school. C’mere, I’m lonely,” Satoru whines.

You’re not as good at fighting as you were when you were children, able to at least wrestle with Satoru and have equal footing. Even then, you didn’t have enough cursed energy to fight like a true sorcerer like Satoru.

But you are getting the hang of it, bleeding cursed energy that flickered a gauzy aura around you. Satoru wonders if it’s just his six eyes that make you look so beautiful in front of him. So soft.

He ends up pushing his weight on you by the end, anyway. He revels in the way you groan, annoyed at him for pinning you down. He knows what’s on your mind from the way you lift your hips for him almost involuntarily. It’s how he has you melt in his grasp, skirt hiked over your stomach as he bullies his cock into you. You’d been asking for it since you looked at him, your teasing eyes peeking from above your book.

He finishes on the small of your back like he always does. Licks over the hickey under your collarbone, too.

You ground him. At least as much as Suguru does, but differently. He’s clear-headed after he cums, laying with you skin to skin. It reminds him that he’s human rather than a god-like prodigy. He keeps you like a pet, never wanting to let you leave him, insisting on stroking through your hair like you’re a cat.

“This has to be some form of kidnapping,” you mutter, one afternoon in his bed. He’d kept you for at least 36 hours, this time. You would never hear the end of it from your mother.

“I can always go to your house.”

“I wonder if this is codependent,” you say. You scrunch your nose as he nuzzles his to yours.

“Nah,” Satoru hums lazily.

“You don’t think so, Satoru?”

“There’s a time limit for me to hang out with my best friend?”

His quip makes your heart pang. You ignore it.

He’ll release you when he feels like it. He knows well enough that you’d rather stay in his bed all day, anyway. He’s too wrapped up in you to think about how it may be cruel.

You stay long enough that your staycation with Satoru bleeds into his usual weekend plans. This includes a movie night with Suguru, so you join.

Satoru picks something raunchy, of course. Something horrific and exploitative in a way that draws attention from its taboo. A cinematic car wreck that has your head spinning.

He whispers in your ear, teasing you, calling you baby whenever Suguru goes to the bathroom. He has his hand on your thigh, fingertips under the blanket, and close enough to your core to make you dripping wet.

And then, as the movie progresses, you tuck your body towards Suguru, who shares your distaste for such violence. Even if it’s fictional. As Satoru watches his worlds collide and sees the way Suguru’s fox eyes light up at your banter, something odd flickers inside him.

When the new semester starts in the fall, he doesn’t look at you as he walks past you.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #juijutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you

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chlorinecake · 10 months

Text

𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐭 𝟏 — a riki nishimura fanfic

𖦹 ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: a cute and flirty airport security assistant gives you a hard time before boarding your flight

♡ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: brief language, mentions of hunger pains, flirty behaviors (duh), riki invades your privacy

𖦹 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 0.7k ~ read pt. 2, pt. 3, and pt. 4

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

Of course, the x-ray machine detected something foreign in your suitcase. It happens to everybody at airports, right?

Introducing the helpful airport security assistant:

Male, check.

Tall, check.

Attractive, triple check.

You always despised having your luggage inspected, but from the surface, your agent appeared easy to work with. Or at least, that’s what you thought until the young man began with a smug “Hey, you,” greeting you with his piercing dark eyes and playful smirk.

That was about five minutes ago, with the time in between consisting of his frequent coquettish remarks. By now, he had asked you a number of questions, ranging from your favorite color to your relationship status.

“I doubt your flirty behavior follows protocol. Or is this your way of making luggage checks with women more interesting?”

He eyed you through his messy bangs, still rummaging through your belongings.

“Me? Flirty behavior?” He scoffed, humored by your remark. “I can assure you that I am thoroughly incapable of such a thing, Miss?...”

“____,” you blurted out.

He then offered a hand and smiled, “Riki. Nice to meet you.”

“Hopefully never again,” you replied sarcastically, returning his handshake. Firm, you thought to yourself. This guy has confidence pumping through his veins. You couldn’t help but wonder what game he’s playing. Pleasantries aside, his behavior was wildly unprofessional, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take his insipid remarks and annoyingly handsome face.

Ugh.

He’s turning you into one of those girls that get upset about a cute flirty stranger for no good reason.

Whatever. The sooner you got through this awkward situation, the better. You’d literally never have to deal with him again after this, so you swallowed your pride, relaxed your posture, and tried to take a few calming breaths. Inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale…inha-

“Well, well, well, what do we have here,” he smirked, cascading a sexy pair of light blue lace panties high in the air for the entire first floor of the airport to see. Heat rushed through your neck up to your cheeks, and you’d damn yourself if you knew how hot and bothered you suddenly appeared.

“Did you want me to find these? Tempt me during my shift? How about finder’s keeper’s?”

“Loser’s weepers,” you retorted, snatching the lingerie from his grasp, folding it back neatly, and placing them on the cold metal side counter.

“Aww,” he pouted mockingly. “I think she likes me! Guys!” He shouted across the room, “She’s totally whipped for me!”

All you could do was roll your eyes. His bold energy intoxicated the entire space, provoking you to act more immaturely than usual. He was certainly a mood maker.

“Are we almost done here,” you questioned, narrowing your eyes at him. Your patience had officially left the building, as you couldn’t wait any longer for this crippling interaction to end. You leaned forward, tapping your fingertips on the countertop out of frustration.

“Shh, I haven’t found your diary yet…nowww, where is it-“

“Gosh, you’re such a jerk,” you whined, smacking his hand from your suitcase and removing it from the counter. He had really pushed your buttons this time, and you’re afraid that the crowded room was the only thing holding you back from literally blowing up. Or maybe it was his pretty privilege?

He ignored your retort, and opted for a more professional personality than the one you’d been graced with before.

“Perfect! You’re all set, ma’am. Enjoy your flight, and thank you for partnering with Nishimura Airlines!” He smiled, bowing before you.

“You too- I mean, thank you? No, you’re welcome, have a good day!” You cringed at yourself. It boggled you how flustered he managed to make you feel just from that short interaction alone. Still, his switch in behavior confused you until you spotted a tall man dressed in khaki pants and a collared shirt. “Ahh, the manager,” you thought to yourself. It would’ve been lovely if he came out to your rescue 10 minutes ago, because now you’re pushing for time just to get in line for your flight.

“Damnit,” you scolded yourself, realizing that you forgot your underwear on the counter in front of Mr. “Finder’s Keeper’s.” On top of that, the rising hunger pangs in your abdomen only added to your growing frustration. All you could do now was hope that the staff would board you and the rest of the travelers quickly for the sake of your emotionally affected stomach. It’s amazing to think that all of this stress erupted thanks to…

Wait-

What was his name again?

………………………………………………………………………………….

ᴀ/ɴ 𓂋 thanks for reading! feel free to send in any content requests for future works ~ love always <3

#enhypen #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enhypen niki #niki ff #enhypen headcanons #niki x reader #niki nishimura #enhypen ff #enhypen fluff #niki fluff #kpop ff

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redtsundere-writes · 2 months

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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 9. Don't Know

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Synopsis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Fighting. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2722 words. A/N: Shoutout to @ghosts-girl_ on IG for sending me a Sukuna fanart that was inspired by this fic! Tysm <3!

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

Going back to the hospital always scared me. I always enter the doctor’s office with sweaty hands while imagining the worst in my mind. The white and neat walls, decorated with informative posters about the importance of exercising regularly. The light gray floor was freshly waxed, I could see my scared face reflected in it. There were a few fake plants around to make the place look less intimidating.

The doctor was asking me questions about my lifestyle over the past six months while typing incessantly on the computer perched in the middle of the large desk. The doctor took out the new x"ray that had been taken of my neck and inspected it in front of the light screen. He didn't say anything, he just analyzed her very carefully to not make a wrong diagnosis. My manager, Mei Mei, came with me this time for support despite having a tight schedule. She noticed I was nervous, so she patted me on the back to calm me down.

“Do you think she can fight soon, Doc?" Mei Mei asked him my biggest concern.

“Her neck has completely healed, if she wanted, she could fight tonight,” the doctor answered with a smile.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips at the wonderful news I had awaited for so long. 3 years to be precise. I was out of the octagon for 3 years on medical recommendation so that my neck would heal completely and avoid future injuries. My face was about to cry with joy, so I hid it in my hands. I was about to reborn, I already wanted to return to the gym with my team to train like in the old days. Start again, conquer the battlefield and recover the title that was taken from me.

Mei Mei and I left the office to meet my friend and training partner, Nobara, who was waiting for us along with Mei Mei's younger brother, Ui Ui. I told her the good news, and she hugged me happily. We used to do everything together before I was injured, now we could go back to our routine as if nothing had happened.

“Everyone will be very happy when they see you back at the gym,” Nobara said excitedly.

“Finally,” I sighed heavily jokingly. “Mei Mei, shall I ask you to gather the team?” I asked her nicely.

Mei Mei was in charge of ensuring that my schedule was met without delays. She was the one who organizes my fights, gathers athletes for special training, hires doctors, etc. She was always busy, but she never let me out of her sight. Not only that, but she always took care of my my needs even though Team Black gives me everything I need. I told her not to worry so much in several occasions, but she always responded with “you never know.”

"I'm already on it, darling. Also, since your appearances with Ryomen, there are several sponsors interested in you,” Mei Mei reminded me of the unexpected kiss Sukuna gave me after his crushing victory against Naoya a couple of weeks ago. "Your life will return to normal in no time."

"When do you plan to come back?” Nobara asked me excitedly.

"I don't know yet, I have to talk to Sukuna's manager to agree on a release date and find a replacement,” I replied.

"When you have the date, let me know,” Mei Mei asked me without taking her eyes off her phone.

"When you return, could you bring me something signed by the King of the Ring?". Ui Ui asked excitedly.

"I'll see what I can do,” I answered honestly.

Mei Mei and Ui Ui left after that. Once we lost sight of them, Nobara took my hands to approach my face curiously. I moved away from her face at the unexpected proximity. When I saw her eyes sparkling from excitement, I could imagine what she wanted.

"So… You and Sukuna, huh?" she asked excitedly.

Since living with him, I have noticed that our relationship had improved, but only as a coach-athlete relationship. I haven't noticed that he treats me sweeter, that he gives me flirtatious glances or that he gets nervous when I am around. He continues to act as the same fearsome Sukuna as always.

My feelings towards him have also increased. When I have to watch him to make sure he does the exercises, my mind travels back to the passionate nights we've had together. I can no longer see his hands without thinking about how he holds me by the waist or his face without imagining him moaning my name. He made me blush without even trying, I was fed up. It was so frustrating not being able to do my job well.

"There’s nothing between me and Sukuna,” I answered, removing my hands from the grip.

"Don’t lie to me! Everyone saw that passionate kiss he gave you!" Nobara scolded while pretending to make out with herself.

"Sukuna only did it to annoy Naoya," I answered, trying to downplay it…

…but I couldn't ignore it. After that night, my perspective on Sukuna had completely changed. I wasn't surprised that I fell in love with him, I mean, I have a reputation for choosing the worst possible men. I had to get rid of this feeling as soon as I could. If I could do it while I lived with him, great, but I knew perfectly well that after asking for my resignation, Sukuna would throw me out and this feeling would go away on its own like a cold.

"And how are you so sure that he doesn't like you?" Nobara asked me.

The idea that Sukuna was interested in me in that way was tempting. It wasn't crazy considering we've already slept together twice, and he kissed me on international television, but I highly doubted that was the case. Yuuji had told me that Sukuna wasn't interested in having a girlfriend and I doubt that will change anytime soon.

“Impossible,” I answered without further ado.

"Oh, come on! Men never kiss woman just because,” Nobara argued.

"What do you know know about men? You're a lesbian,” I joked.

"I know how they behave when they like a girl, it's what we have in common," she challenged me.

My heart wanted to believe her, but my mind warned me with red flags that I shouldn't. Being in love is complicated.

At first, I had a hard time adjusting to living with Sukuna. I lived alone for so long that I forgot how it was living with someone. Quickly, I could adapt to his cold attitude in the morning, seeing him walk around the house wet and with a towel wrapped around his slutty waist, and listening to his complaints when we left the gym. Sukuna is the one who pays for everything, the only thing I could contribute to the house was to cook for him from time to time if the cook was not available. I couldn't help but feel like a sugar baby, but that feeling went away every time I used the magnificent indoor pool.

The microwave announcing that my popcorn was ready brought me out of my thoughts. I was preparing myself some popcorn as tonight's fights began. The schedule was not very exciting, except for the main fight. The fight for the heavyweight division championship between Toji Fushiguro and Aoi Todo. A battle between two powerful giants of the UFC.

I returned to the kitchen to prepare the popcorn to my liking in a bowl. I opened the refrigerator to look for the juice I had bought before I got home. Being a high-performance athlete, Sukuna's smart refrigerator only served to store large amounts of chicken breast, vegetables, and sparkling water. If I wanted something with sugar or “chemicals”, I had to buy it myself and hide it so as not to tempt Sukuna's appetite. As I closed the door, I noticed the new dietary regimen that Sukuna's nutritionist had asked hm to follow.

"Chicken, rice, and broccoli for 4 days straight? No wonder he's always so angry,” I thought out loud as I quickly scanned the sheet of paper.

No sugar. Do not eat carbs after 6 pm. Just an egg without yolk in the morning. I knew that Sukuna was a highly disciplined athlete, but going on such a demanding diet was ridiculous. If a nutritionist asked me to follow this regimen like a soldier, I would fire her in no time.

There were so many things I wanted to change about his extreme lifestyle, but I was sure I wouldn't be able to figure it out before my last day. Furthermore, I had to tell him that I would no longer be his coach and that someone else was going to take my place. I didn't know how he would even take the news. I just had to make sure to tell him when he is in a good mood. Who am I kidding? He is never in a good mood, that goes against his personality.

"Fuck this shit!" Sukuna yelled as he reluctantly entered the house. Now was not the right time to tell him.

He tossed his backpack onto the small stool at the entrance, where we kept our shoes and had a mirror for finishing touches. Sukuna slammed the door shut which offended my ears. I just watched him confused while I ate my popcorn.

"Things didn’t go well with the Olympian?" I asked, trying to understand where his anger was coming from.

While I was at the doctor, Sukuna went to the Olympic stadium to have an exclusive sparring with a boxing gold medalist. He insisted that I cancel my appointment to come with him, but I told him that even if I did that, I wouldn't be much help. My specialty is jujitsu, not boxing. I told him that Gojo knows more than me, and he stopped annoying me.

"That idiot asked for a break on the fifth round. Can you fucking believe that?! The best boxer in the nation?! My balls can last longer than that!” He exclaimed in annoyance as he ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

"Could it be because it was training and not a real fight?" I asked before putting a popcorn in my mouth, staying calm. If I got down to his level, he would only get more upset.

"If I had wanted to waste my time, I would have trained with one of the gym's rookies,"Sukuna mumbled.

He sat on the stool and sighed heavily as he unlaced his shoes to enter the house. I could see the helplessness in his eyes at not having the demanding training he wanted. Having a perfect streak of 28 overwhelming victories, he hasn't had a rival who can match his level in years. Always being the winner means that you are not learning, and you are staying stagnant while others moved forward, Sukuna was afraid of being left behind.

I sighed as I understood his anger, putting the bowl aside to approach him. I took advantage of the fact that he was at my level to gently massage his shoulders. Even though I didn't do it with a romantic intention, touching him like that after weeks felt like drinking water in the middle of the Sahara. A temporary pleasure that I had to take advantage as much as I could.

"Do you know what it means that he didn't last more than 5 rounds?" I asked him while massaging his neck.

"I'm not in the mood for your shit," he mumbled, focused on his shoes.

"Let me finish!" I barked. "It means you're better than an Olympic medalist," he looked at me again, calmer now.

"You think?" he asked me, looking at me to deduce if I was saying it out of pity or not.

"Of course! You are the king of the ring, not just in the UFC!" I cheered, giving him a friendly pat on the arm.

"Not everyone can go against the king," he said with an evil smile.

It was one of those few times I've seen him smile like that. I'm glad to know that I could be of use to him outside the gym. I wanted to be the cause for him to smile more often, even if it meant he didn't feel the same way about me. A reality that I was willing to accept for the sake of both of us.

The fight between Aoi Todo and Toji Fushiguro was about to start. The current champion, Toji, entered shining his glorious belt with Welcome To The Jungle by Guns N' Roses in the background while the commentators read his statistics. Aoi, the challenger, Todo looked forward to the fight from the octagon. The crowd was excited, music was blaring from the speakers, and commentators were debating who would take home the belt. It was an important fight that deserved to be seen on the room's beautiful 80"inch screen.

"That son of a bitch," Sukuna snorted behind me, referring to Toji. He was in my robe as always before going to sleep.

"A talented son of a bitch," I joked. "Sit down and watch it with me."

"I'll watch it until I get sleepy," Sukuna scoffed as he sat next to me on the couch.

After formal introductions and the referee's instructions, the first round took place. The two mastodons faced each other face to face in a rain of punches and jabs that seemed to have no end. They were like two bulls striking each other with their sharp horns, making the plaza resonate with the power of their tackles. It was clear that Aoi Todo was a born boxer who did not allow himself to be intimidated by the enormous presence of Fushiguro with those beastly hits. Before Toji could take him to the ground, like he had done in the fight against Sukuna, the bell rang.

“Who are you rooting to?” I asked Sukuna excitedly.

"I do not know, and I do not care." he answered with a yawn. That answer deserved me to throw my empty popcorn bowl at him.

"It's a very important fight! You should know!" I scolded him as the TV went to commercial break. "Todo and Fushiguro have been fighting for the division title for 2 years. Both have won twice simultaneously. This is their fifth fight. It's the fight for 3 out of 3!” I explained. Sukuna shrugged his shoulders, downplaying it the importance it deserved.

"And who are you rooting for?" He asked me to make conversation as they returned to the fight.

"Aoi Todo is a magnificent boxer like you…". At the comparison, Sukuna gave me a killer glance. "Obviously, you are the best," I corrected before he killed me.

"That is what I thought."

"But Toji is a complete fighter, I am team Toji for life," I replied with a proud smile. Sukuna gave me another killing look, this time it was more stern. I really don't learn from my mistakes, huh? "Obviously I'm Team Black before that," I said with a guilty smile.

The champion threw a quick jab, but the challenger easily dodged it. Aoi responded with a combination of quick strikes that made Fushiguro flinched. He stumbled back, but stayed upright. He threw a wild right hand, but the challenger blocked it with his forearm. The challenger took the opportunity to launch a flurry of jabs that Toji dodged like a master. Aoi continued entering her field, causing Toji's back to hit the fence. He threw one last desperate right hand, but Todo dodged it and responded with a left hook that sent the champion to the ground.

"¡No!" I exclaimed upon seeing the knockout.

"Too bad…" Sukuna mocked me.

After my champion couldn't get up easily, the referee ended the fight. The challenger had won the fight with a monstrous knockout. The crowd roared and Todo raised his arms in victory as he ran around the octagon. He had defeated his legendary opponent and became the new champion of the heavyweight division.

"First words after defeating such an important rival?". The interviewer asked Todo as he celebrated with his team supporting him behind him.

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soxcietyy · 2 months

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Temptation

Chapter 2 -> Chapter 3

Your dad is tired of you bringing home these unworthy men. None of them being fit to take care of you or to be given the family business since you are the only daughter. He decides to find you someone fit to be your husband and receive help from the father of the church. That’s when you meet Yuta, though just because he goes to church doesn’t mean he’s much of a saint

Mafia, murder, violence, mentions of religion, (will contain other things in the next chapters)

The date went rather well… yes he was acting weird time by time. For example he would look at you then towards the direction of the exit and finally to his right where a group of men sat. His eyes always seemed to be darting in thoes specific spots. He was very vague with the answers to your questions and would switch the topic to you. You could feel the floor move as he bounced his leg up and down. Was your dad really going to let you marry this man?

"Don’t you think I should be getting to know you a bit more?" You clasp your hands together under the table. "Tell me about your family!"

"They’re well, alive and well." Yuta pokes at his steak, clearly not being hungry. He had taken you to this big fancy restaurant and ordered himself the most expensive steak just so he could look at it.

"What is your field of work?" You ask as you sunk your fork into a grilled piece of fish.

Taking a sip of his wine he chokes at the sudden question. He clears his throat and answers the question after a few minutes of contemplating. "I am a business owner."

"Oh really? What is your business about?" You perk up. Obviously you knew about the business work and that topic intrigued you. Your father has thought you everything you knew.

"I don’t think you would be quite interested in it. I don’t sell jewelry or dresses. It’s just trade, nothing your small head should worry about." He pats his front pocket and pulls out a buisness card. "I’m under the Gojo franchise."

The small card was being handed to you and you accepted it. It had the company’s name written on it in a cursive font with big dark blue letters.

"What are you trying to say? That I’m not knowledgeable enough to understand any of this? Do you know who I am? I’m the daughter of one of the best wine distributors. You’re literally drinking our company brand as we speak!" You furrow your brows.

He quirks his brow and lifts the glass up to take a good look at it. Inspecting as if he actually knew how to evaluate such thing. You watch as he took a sip from the glass and tasted the drink. Dragging his eyes back to yours he simplify shrugged and put the glass to the side

Your father has taught you about being a lady and to never let anger get the best of you. But he just spouted the most ridiculous thing ever. Did he really think he was going to win you this way? Unbelievable man, this was the last time he was ever going to see you.

"That was really good actually, the best iv ever had." Yuta smiled at you. "Right, I’m sorry for saying that. I’m just not used to being around many women. I was secluded when I was younger and was always around buisness men. I really had no time to just be a kid. The second I was able to read and write I was forced to learn everything I know now." He looks down.

Was that even justifiable?! But at the same time your heart ached as he talked about his childhood. This poor man was forced to grow up too fast and never had the chance to be a boy. You reached out for his hand that rested on the table. He looked up at you with a small smile.

"Thank you for opening up to me, I know it was probably hard to tell me."

"Yea it’s kind of embarrassing for me to admit that I have no experience. I told father everything and he promised to find me a woman suitable for me. Someone kind, understanding, forgiving and stunning." He pressed your hand onto his cheek as he looked at you.

Your heart melted as you stated at his dark blue eyes. His soft warm soft cheeks made you want to pinch them.

"Yuta, goodness what am I going to do with you. Such a handsome man with a heart of gold. I want you to know that you can always rely on me." You say forgetting everything that happened a while ago.

"Wait does that mean you’ll give me a chance?" He looks at you surprised.

You nod at him with a blush on your face.

" I’m going to treat you so well you have no idea." He pulls your hand towards his lips and plants a kiss on it.

His eyes looking past you as his lips stayed on your skin. Until he looked to the side and let’s go. Intertwining your hands together he can’t help but wear a big smile on his face. You’ve never felt this way before but you felt excited. This was something new for you and him. It was going to be a such an experience.

He ended up taking you home but before he left he wanted to have another talk with your father. Probably saying that you both had agreed on dating. If things work out you guys should be getting married in a few years. You watched the both of them enter your dads office and when the door closed your mom grabbed your hand and dragged you to the kitchen.

You looked at her shocked as she grabbed your face and searched you up and down. She ignored your questions as she investigated to her heart’s content. When she decided you were clear she let out a sigh. She looked like she had been stressed all day.

"You arnt hurt are you?" She said worried

"No mom Im perfectly fine. You don’t look okay though." You say looking at her red puffy eyes and smudged makeup.

"I told your father to find you a good man y/n! A good man but he’s so stupid." She held your arms tight. "Don’t worry I’ll get you of of this."

Your mom was usually a vey calm and collected person. She was the standard in your big family and everyone wanted to be rich and elegant as her. Seeing her act like this frightened you. If anyone saw her acting like this they would think that she was out of her mind.

"Mama you don’t have to worry about me. Yuta is such a kind gentleman. He’s not going to harm me nor is he going to kill me. I don’t think he would hurt a fly actually. You can relax and be sure that everything will be fine." You hug her tight. "You can even supervise all my dates if you want. You already know it’s going to take a few years before I actually go home with him or get married. Papa isn’t that easy to sway." You kiss her head as you.

"Your father, I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I don’t know why he would agree to let him take you go on a date with a boy related to the Gojo’s."

There it was again, that last name that keeps popping up. You might have to start investigating that family to find out what this whole thing is about.

"Y/n be careful with that boy and if your scared that sometimes is going to happen just comply and find a way to escape him. That family, they’re not to be messed with. You can seriously get hu-"

"We’re leaving." You hear a voice from the kitchen entrance.

The both of you jump, startled by the voice that spoke behind you.

Leaving? You mouth confused.

Yuta grabs you by the arm and leads you to the front door. You try to stop in protest but he kept pushing you fowards as you walked.

"What do you mean she’s leaving?! F/n what the hell are you thinking?!" Your mother shouts.

Before you could heard the answer to that the door behind you was shut. All you could heard was faint steaming, crying and the loud crickets that created there sweet sounds of the night. Everything was happening so quick that it didn’t give you time to think and process.

You were in the car by the time you even had a question about this whole situation. You couldn’t even recall when he put the seatbelt on you or when started driving. This all felt like a dream.

"Who are you?" You ask.

Yuta turns to look at you, his glossy eyes shining with the moonlight. "What do you mean by that?"

"You arnt an average person are you? You’re different." You stare at him as he faces the road once again.

He didn’t answer for a long time. It almost felt like forever. You were starting to think you wernt going to get an answer.

"Yuta okkotsu, Ceo of the trading branch that belongs to the Gojo franchise. Born and raised in upper NewYork."

You frown seeing that he told you what you already knew. Then something else caught your eye. On the front pouch of his dress shirt was a pen that seemed to be pushed down. Meaning he had used it not too long ago because that wasn’t there when you met him. That means he had signed something recently. If your dad had sent you off with him and he has a pen on him that could only mean…

"Did you just buy me?" You ask.

His eyes drag back onto you. His once soft puppy eyes turned into sharp tiger eyes. "No, are you okay sweetheart? You’re asking me such odd questions tonight. I think you need rest." He says.

"No." You protest. "Why did my dad agree to let you go on a date with me? Why did he not Interagate you more? Why was he so aggressive with you in the beginning and now he’s not? Why is he always smiling when he sees you? Why am I in the car with you right now? Why am I going home with you? We’re not even married for me to be sleeping with you." When you finished you felt your body being launched forward by force.

Yuta had stomped on the breaks causing that to happen. You held your chest with you hand trying to calm down your racing heart.

"Do you always ask this many questions?"

The ride to his place was silent. Not a sound came out of the both of you. You looked out the window at the different houses and stores that you passed by.

They all looked unfamiliar because you’ve never been in this part of town. The buildings were big and the houses had such big land. They where huge mansions that sat on the hills and smaller ones that where ground level. The car came to a slow stop making you look in front of you. When you did you could see a man opening the gates letting the car go in, it was dark but that didn’t prevent you from seeing this huge white mansion that stood in front of you. It had balcony and vines hanging from the side. A handful of cars were parked on the far left side of the house under a tree. Did he own that many cars? What kind of person needed that much?

He helped you out and held your hand the entire time. Unlocking the door he took you straight upstairs quietly. Almost as if he was sneaking you inside his parents house. Looking at him from behind you started to realize thing, you could see how his dress shirt hugged his back. How his pants fit a little bit too perfectly on him. The smell of his cologne being leather scented. The jewelry he wore on his hands. A scar that wrapped around his wrist that looked like it was made not too long ago.

You stumbled on a step making him stop to make sure you were okay. He had been walking a little bit too fast making it difficult for you to catch up. He decided to walk a bit slower giving you more of a chance to look around. The house was huge from the looks of it. The walls where a creamy white and the floors where a dark brown wooden color. The house seemed to be very clean, everything looked perfect actually. Not a spec of dust in sight making it odd. Your mother was a clean freak but not even she could get it this clean. The walls were littered with crosses and pictures of saints. Unfortunately this place look like it had not been touched by a women. It was missing the home like feeling.

He ended up sitting you down in a chair that he had in what you assumed was his bedroom. It was twice the size of yours and a balcony. He had big dressers, a big bed, a sofa and a chair with a table. It seemed a bit too big for someone like him. Then again maybe that’s why you were here. His tall body moved around the room as he put things from his pocket on a dresser. He threw his coat that he had been carrying on a chair. Then turned back to you.

"I’m going to go downstairs to do something. You can stay here and do whatever females do on their free time." Yuta said as he walked to the mirror and fixed his shirt. "Your to absolutely not go downstairs okay?" He says making eye contact with you through the mirror. "No matter what you here you ignore it." You could see his intense gaze looking at you showing you how serious he was being.

You nod at him.

"Splendid, You’re not hungry are you? I think I might heave something downstairs if not I can get you anything you want." He approaches you and presses a kiss on your lips as if this was the norm. You look at him with a look he could not possibly look away from. "Your really something huh? How about when I get back we can have some fun." He leans till the both of your noses are touching. Forehead pressed giants forehead. You reach for your neck and touch the cross necklace that rested there. He takes a step back and looks at you amusingly. "Right."

Walking out he closes the door behind him leaving you alone in this cold room. Your hand runs through the cold bedding sending chills through your body. The things you mom had said played over and over in your head. Maybe now was the time to find out who he was. Standing up you walk to the coat he had threw to the side.

Picking it up you slipped your hand in each pocket taking anything out. You pulled out some money, recipes, cigarettes, and a folded paper. Slowly you unfolded it afraid that he could possibly be right outside the door. The white crinkled paper contained random numbers and your name on it.

You take a seat in the hard floor and shove it in your dress. You would probably find use for it later on. Suddney someghing shiny caught your eye, looking down at it you spick it up. It seems to be a pin with a design in the front of it. The more you looked at it the more it reminded you of the one your dad wore. It was a cuff link, these were used a show off wealth and status. Usually the things on them had meaning. This design was one you remember seeing somewhere. Holding it up for the light you look at it more trying to catch every detail you could. Then you remember that you saw it in the card he had given you. Quickly you looked for the card you had stuffed somewhere.

Unfortunately you weren’t careful enough with it and it ended up slipping out of your fingers. You gasped as it hit the floor making a loud echo. That’s when it started to roll away from you. Quickly you ran to grab it but missed the first time. It was rolling faster and faster gaining speed. You struggled to grab it and by the time it stared to loose momentum it had went under the double doors. You bite your lip debating on whether you should go out but you would be in big trouble if he found out you grabbed it. Cuff links can range from cheap to very expensive and that’s one looked like it was worth a heavy penny.

Opening the door you look around the floor to find the dam thing heading down the stairs. Everytime the link made impact on a step, a loud clink could be heard. You wince at each sound it made. Taking your heels off to make less noise you chase after it. Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs you snag it before it could run any further. You take a deep breath relieved that you finally had it back.

"Well I haven’t seen one of you since the last one." A man said. Turning around you see a tall man with a long beard looking at you. Somehow the hair didn’t transfer to his shiny bald head. You weren’t sure who this man was so you tried making conversation really short with him so you could get back but maybe this could work out with you.

"Oh, your telling me he’s had other girls?"

"Obviously he has, you must be an idiot to believe that man hasn’t had a woman. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a child somewhere." He laughs.

Well now you knew that whole sob story was a lie.

"Right because he’s a very important guy right?"

"I think you’re underestimating him, he’s literally the reason the Gojo franchise is still running with no competition. Then again he literally m-" before he could finish his sentence a long shot rang out. You quickly duck from the sound taking cover from the shooting. Who in the world could be carrying in such a nice neighborhood?! Usually you heard these type of things on the other side of town. It took you a minute before you looked back up but when you did Yuta stood infront of you.

"Didn’t I tell you to wait upstairs." Yuta squats down to get eye level with you.

Behind him you could see a crowed of men walking out a room. He must of getting out of a meeting but why was it at his house? He quickly snagged your attention by grabbing your face.

"You’re not answering." He says.

There was no point in lying to him. Slowly you open your hand and show him the cuff link. He looked at you surprised and took it from you.

"Where you trying to give this to me? Because you knew I had a meeting?" He says as his ears began to turn pink.

You had no idea how he came up with that conclusion but you didn’t deny it.

"Well that was really kind of you and uh darling, where are you heels?" Yuta looks down at your feet that touched the floor. You laugh awkwardly not knowing how to explain yourself. It didn’t matter much since he picked you right off your feet and carried you upstairs. Looking over his shoulder you look down to see if the man you had spoken too was still there. Instead you saw a crowed and a group of people carrying something out the door.

"Y/n, let’s get some rest. You have a long day tomorrow."

#yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #yuta okkotsu x y/n #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuuta headcanons #jjk yuuta #yuuta okkotsu #yuta x y/n #okkotsu yuuta #yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuta oneshot #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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faerievampling · 2 months

Text

Killing Time

Chapter 6: Blind

Word Count: 4k

Pairing: Soft Ascended Astarion x Female Tav/Reader

Summary: After thousands of years together, Astarion and his consort go on another adventure. After Astarion is forced to return back to Faerún for the evening, Tav must attend a Githyanki banquet alone.

Link to Ao3!

Masterlist

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Warnings: 18+. Mention of sex. Light Mind Control. Kidnapping.

You give yourself a look over just to ensure everything is in place: your hair was braided with such elegance it could have brought tears to your eyes, and the earrings that Astarion had suggested paired brilliantly with your dress. They were a simple diamond, likely dug out by kobolds or dwarves somewhere in Neverwinter. The gems hadn’t been particularly expensive and there was no great story behind their purchase: Astarion had simply bought them for you because he thought they would look nice on you.

You had wanted to pass on wearing a necklace; between the earrings and braids, there was just a little too ‘much’ going on with your look, but Astarion had insisted.

The necklace provided you with a gentle warding bond. The gem of the necklace twinkled when the spell activated.

“Lover, surely this isn’t needed,” You had said while Astarion nervously adjusted your ensemble, smoothing away wisps in your hair and ensuring your makeup hadn’t smudged, your lips swollen from his incessant kissing. Astarion had remarked that you should be thanking him for the natural lip plumper, which only added to your supernatural, earth-shattering beauty.

“Madame,” Cynthia says from behind you, her voice light and tentative. You couldnt stop thinking about how helpless Astarion felt before walking through the portal back to Faerún, leaving you, Ruth, and Cynthia behind at the crèche.

He will be back. Later tonight. He promised. He will be back, you thought to yourself. You could sense Astarion’s anxiety amidst his occupation. He had told you not to worry, as if that was even possible.

“Yes?” You answer, looking at Cynthia’s reflection. She also looked quite lovely, and wore a blue gown, which was lovely with her blond hair and grey eyes. She smiles at you.

“Master wants me to remind you to blink and smile. But there is a certain ‘statuesque’ beauty about you when you aren’t thinking about it.” Cynthia’s eyes dart away from yours in the mirror, afraid she has been too casual with you, but you give her a little smile, as friendly as you can muster on that ancient face of yours.

“How interesting of you to say,” You reply, your voice even and light. You try your best not to be too robotic, reminding yourself of Astarion’s suave ease at mortal communication. “Are you excited for the banquet?”

Cynthia beams behind you. “I am. Very much.” Her heart is racing. You can sense her excitement.

You turn to her, nodding your head as her eyes drink you in. “Any last adjustments?” You ask, knowing Astarion would want you to look your best. He had told you to represent your family well in his absence, and you intended to do so.

The distance almost makes you feel pain, which is unusual; but you remember something you read in a book, once, about physical manifestations of emotional pain. You wondered if that idea was applicable to vampires with telepathic bonds, too. Astarion had been nearly distraught having to leave you. But you really couldn’t dwell on that now.

Cynthia takes a moment to thoroughly inspect you. “None. Master did well to do those himself, the expert that he is.”

You nod before opening the door to your chamber(if you could call it that; your room was certainly better than the last, but nothing quite like your boudoir at home), allowing Ruth to come in. His eyes were on you first, simply because he couldn’t help it: the two of you smelled distinctly of Astarion, which would always be attractive to you simply because he was your creator.

Ruth nodded to you. “Stunning, Madame,” he says politely before turning to Cynthia, the true object of his desire, you realize. You can smell the arousal on them alike, and Cynthia’s beat has gone between her legs.

Looking at the two of them reminds of the ‘before’ times. And that reminds you that you’re about to go party with a horde of gith without your husband. You think about reaching out to him, because surely he feels your growing anxiety; you are beginning to get angry, feeling as if he’s ignoring you.

But the rational part of your brain knows your anger is misplaced. You take a deep breath, startling both Ruth and Cynthia in the process, who’ve become lost in each other's eyes.

You take the crook of Ruth’s arm as you exit your chamber, Cynthia trailing behind the two of you. This was the way of the court: since you were absent your husband, any male escort would do. Servants, like Cynthia, don’t get an escort. Simply, your royal life was far more valuable than hers.

But you aren’t in court, are you? You think before turning to Cynthia, letting go of Ruth’s arm as you wave her closer. You promptly switch places with them, choosing to walk alone as the couple strolled in front of you.

Walking down the long hallway, you quietly observe the pair; when Cynthia rests her head on Ruth’s shoulder for a moment, snuggling up to him for a quick hug, you realize how happy your underlings probably were that they had their own room now. A quick look into Cynthia’s mind confirms your theory: although their relationship was in its infancy, these two made love often, and Ruth regularly fed from his darling.

Cynthia hadn’t been the first of Ruth’s lovers. Ruth did this often: he would devote himself to one human after another, and be entirely distraught upon their death. He never asked Astarion to turn any of his lovers, because that was against the rules.

Ruth seemed to rather like Cynthia, you think, but you had never paid attention to the others, so you couldn’t really say if things were different for him and your new lady servant.

The other spawn weren’t so monogamous as Ruth. You knew Marwa had a string of lovers but never a steady relationship. Astarion’s other two spawn, Ygritte and Apholso, often tangled together. If there was ever any drama between the two, neither of you heard of it, which was another one of Astarion’s rules: the lives of the spawn needn’t ever disrupt the lives or relationship of either Astarion or his consort.

You’ve lost yourself in a memory when you nearly stumble into the pair in front of you as you reach the ballroom of the spire.

It was far grander than you had imagined: the walls were smoothed, but still a rocky crystal that seemed to illuminate on its own volition, reflecting off of the milky white floors which resembled ice.

The gith are dressed up, and much to you and Cynthia’s dismay, pink was surely in-style among the gith women. But it was no matter: the moment you walked into the room, many eyes were on the three of you.

“Tav,” A familiar voice called from beside you, and you turn to see Lae’zel, reaching her hand out towards you to take your arm. You accept, allowing her to lead you towards a more intimate corner of the hall, Ruth and Cynthia on your heels.

There was a lot of gith here. You and Ruth are already looking at each other nervously: him moreso than you, even though you had missed your second feeding. The spawn’s vampiric hunger was far greater than your own, far more painful and constant. That didn’t really change your discomfort, but it certainly made Astarion feel better about the whole ordeal.

You knew the two of you needed something to occupy yourselves; excusing yourself from your group, you grab two glasses of wine from a serving table, handing one to Ruth as you begin to nurse on your glass of red.

Ruth does the same, and Cynthia is looking at him as if she’s worried. This strikes remembrance within you, when you once worried for Astarion’s hunger.

You notice Lae’zel is wearing a rather pretty dress, one that shows off her lovely neck; Lae’zel’s cleavage peeks out of the hem slightly, and you can’t help but steal a glance. The dress is a dark chocolate color, complimenting her green skin and orange hair well. She looked so much softer than normal, and you wonder if you had ever seen her this way.

You think maybe you should compliment her, but instead you focus on your red wine and try to stop thinking about how her skin would taste on your tongue as you slide your fangs into her—

“Where is Astarion?” Lae’zel asks, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

As your eyes sweep the room, you start to feel a disturbance, and you know something is wrong. You still for a moment, time seeming to slow down as you focus your senses on the world around you: the smell of sweat and perfume and blood beneath skin, the warm moisture in the air touching you behind your ears, beneath your breasts, the sound of the casual music and the chatter mixed with laughter. You wait.

Ruth answers Lae’zel’s question. Because you are waiting.

“My lady –“ Ruth begins, but you bring your hand to his shoulder, patting him.

“Shh.”

But nothing happens. The banquet continues on like normal and you decide to return to the others, giving them the fakest smile you can muster.

“Darling darling darling darling darling.” You’ve involuntarily reached out, feeling Astarion’s quiet presence. He acknowledges but doesn’t reply, understanding that you’re both rather antsy.

Before you know it, your warband descends on you. Ziir’o, Quinel, and Joss wear a traditional Githyanki garb, an elegant suit tailored with thread made from intelligent beings rather than cotton or silk. It was an old tradition, one that existed far before Vlaakith or Orpheus ruled, where a young warrior would skin their first kill, using its materials to create a garb in a show of honor.

You thought it was a rather vicious tradition, one you admired. The boys looked handsome, and the three of them blush when you say so.

Marg’o and Chae each wore gowns; you and Cynthia shoot each other a look after taking in Marg’o’s pink gown. Chae, despite how stern she usually was, looked rather soft and lovely in a golden gown. The other five, who weren’t so keen on you, lingered about, greeting you curtly.

“Where’s your husband, Tav?” Marg’o asks with a blush. You couldn’t blame her for having a crush on Astarion, and you thought it rather cute.

“Not far. Just handling some business. He’s never truly away from me.” This was a lie, of course, but nobody needed to know that.

“Will he arrive in time for dinner? He knows Orpheus expects him.” Lae’zel says; it would have knocked the wind out of you if you hadn’t been undead. Instead, you were merely shocked.

You think for a moment nobody told you of Orpheus’s coming, but you knew it was more likely you had heard of it and hadn’t thought it important.

“I’m not sure,” You say as you reach out to Astarion, who is feeling nothing but frustration and anxiety. You can sense how badly he wants needs to be with you.

There is more small talk, but you ignore it, holding onto your connection with your husband. You know Astarion really doesn’t give a shit about Orpheus at this moment: surely, he wanted to please him, for alliance purposes or whatever, but what was going on at home took precedent.

He told you not to worry about that pesky war the mortals are having. Men and women (and some children, you are told) from all over Faerún are engaged in conflicts; but you have seen many nations rise and fall, so how different could this next one be?

But maybe your wealth was being threatened. And with Lord Geldon Moth in the mix, the Ancunín power and fortune was in need of not only defense: you think you should start to fight back. Maybe Astarion should create that spawn army, gather a few Githyanki forces storm the gates of wherever the hell Moth’s estate was, kill him, his consorts, all his spawn, all his thralls, and fuck your gorgeous husband on whatever excuse of a throne Moth sat on.

When the feast was finally called, you took Ruth by the arm, Lae’zel leading the two of you to the grand hall. There were rows of long tables filled with gith bodies as the banquet was brought to a semblance of order: in the back of the room, atop a platform, was a long, elegant table with a grand chair at its center.

The table and throne were made from wood and bone, carved magnificently; the legs of each resembling the tail of a dragon.

You take Astarion’s seat, directly next to the throne, and Ruth takes your seat next to you. Cynthia is made to stand behind you: you almost feel bad for her, but it was to be expected. The dinner felt more formal, more serious, and when everyone was largely settled, the dinner hall was hushed. There was a little quiet chatter, but hardly the assault of the ears that was the hall when you arrived.

The heartbeats of many thrummed in your ear, slamming against your eardrum amongst the quiet. You realize you’d never let go of Ruth’s arm, gripping it with such strength that you drew blood with your long nails. Ruth, equally if not more so bothered, gripped you back in kind, his hand covering yours. It takes you a moment to realize he’s trying to get your attention.

Ruth could telepathically communicate with Astarion, who could play telephone with you, if he so chose. But you could also easily read Ruth’s mind, and he knew this, so he signaled to tell you to peek inside.

‘We shouldn’t be here without Master Astarion. Too difficult, too difficult. Not enough blood. Cynthia is so delicious. Eat her whole.’ Ruth’s thoughts accidentally waved to Cynthia’s neck and breasts; ignoring his more lewd thoughts, you shake your head at him.

You try urging him to keep still, to stay calm, and to follow the rules of ‘Master’. But that feeling of apprehension in your gut hadn’t left, and you felt that little lump in your throat get bigger the more you lied to Ruth.

“It shall be alright, but we musnt make a scene. We would be punished,” You think that you would probably enjoy your punishment and Ruth decidedly wouldn’t. But the lying thing seemed to work, and Ruth was calming down.

“Think about your darling. Think about Cynthia. When I think about my husband, I do better to behave.” You’re still lying, but you know this is true for Ruth. You often did what you wanted, regardless of what Astarion thought. “You don’t want her to think you're a monster.”

Astarion didn’t care if you were a monster – as long as he could love and adore you, he would. But this wasn’t the case for Ruth. The look on his face signals understanding, and he nods with you in agreement.

“Don’t tell me something is the matter. Now is not the time,” Lae’zel rasps from beside Ruth, leaning over him. The royal procession was beginning, and everyone who had a seat stood: you and Ruth quickly followed suit after a single dirty look from Lae’zel.

You and Ruth continued to grip each other as the resplendent Orpheus was finally seen, his blue eyes fixated on you the moment he saw you.

“Orpheus is here,” You direct to Astarion, a strained reluctance in your message you knew your husband couldn’t ignore.

“I can only imagine how lovely you look right now. Haven’t stopped thinking about your perfect tits since I arrived in Faerún. You know what to do, my love.” Sadly, this signaled the end of your correspondence, because Astarion’s attention was quickly stolen away from you again. But you had greater things to worry about, like the Githyanki King standing before you.

But you did know what to do: throw on the vampiric charm, ignore that strange inkling of your psychic abilities, and do your best not to eat anyone. You regurgitate this back to Ruth, minus the psychic thing, of course.

Orpheus nods to you as he finally takes his seat, and the rest of the room relaxes. There are no great speeches, only the clanking of classes and the sound of music playing in the background as the room was brought to life.

Your discussion with Orpheus happens in a blur. You hardly remember him, your knowledge being from Astarion’s memory of the event, but Orpheus certainly remembers you.

“Time passes differently for us in the Astral Sea. It feels like not so long ago you and Lae’zel freed me from Vlaakith.”

You smile politely, careful not to show too much fang. “I apologize for my Lord Husband’s absence. There was…business to attend to.”

“It’s quite alright. Your Lord commands the Ancunín fortune and the armies and governments of Faerún, but you were the one I was keen on seeing. You were the one who slayed a devil and a ghaik ally to free me.” You think your vampiric charm is working a little too well on Orpheus. Peeking into his mind, this King was thinking of how delicious it would be to put you on your knees and stuff his cock in your mouth right in front of your husband.

Despite his lewd thoughts, there was a glitter in the man’s eyes, and it was clear he still admired you greatly.

When the food arrives, everyone digs in, except for you: one of the two vampires in existence who could actually enjoy the taste of food, but you didn’t care for it. The servants and other underlings ate in the kitchen, and as the movement in the dining hall increases, you find yourself sitting next to Lae’zel, Ruth having gone to the kitchens to sit with Cynthia.

“How has your evening been, so far?” Lae’zel asks as she sips on her wine, her eyes sweeping over you in lustful praise.

“Without Astarion?” You shake your head, pushing the food around your plate. “Any event without him is a bore.”

This was simply the truth: you had nobody to gossip with, nobody to laugh at others with, nobody to bother with bratty complaints or loving touches.

‘I shouldn’t be surprised a spawn loves her shackles, it’s in their nature…’

“Is it really so unbelievable to you that I simply love my husband? That I am happy with my arrangement?” You blurt, decidedly not caring if you were being rude or not.

Lae’zel is looking at you deeply. Thump. Thump. Thump. “Must you read my mind?”

“Must you think such terrible things of me?”

“I won’t forgive him for how he treated you. How he turned you into a spawn. How he made you kneel for him. I never –“ Lae’zel looks away, and you smell the coming of her tears. “I never would have done the things he did. I loved you. I respected you. To watch you tolerate that was your folly.”

Despite her words, Lae’zel’s thoughts were clear as day to you: ‘I still love you, Tav. I want you. I want you to still want me.’

It would be so easy to drain this one: you knew Lae’zel would be putty in your claws as you sucked her dry and caressed her lifeless body.

You blink at her, your mind feeling hot with a flash of anger. That was so long ago. Things are different now, you think, but no words come out of your mouth. You stand gracefully, turning only a few heads as you make your way out to the side of the hall, avoiding having to walk down the center of the room.

You hardly have time to process your aggravating conversation when you are overcome with a wave of nausea, your mind assaulted by a vision of utter darkness, one that is so black that it reminds you of nothingness. You only know you haven’t lost consciousness because your sense of awareness never leaves.

Taking a deep breath, you try to collect yourself, leading yourself around the corner to a secluded walkway. The smell of alcohol is pungent in your nose as you hear the shuffling of footsteps behind you: you know there is a familiar group of warriors coming down the hallway, and one is already calling out to you.

“Tav! You must try this, it’s a rare ale made in the Astral Sea –“ The smile on Ziir’o’s boyish face drops at the sight of you. “Tav?”

“Are you alright?” Joss asks, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

As the group gets closer, your mind flits to that vision of nothingness. You feel a great surge in your connection with Astarion, and you know he is already on his way to you. To protect you from whatever it is that is happening. He’s racing towards you, but…

it’s

already

upon

you

Your thoughts become fragmented as that nothiness swarms you. You hear those familiar voices call out your name as you feel a strange sensation behind you, like you are standing at the edge of a cliff and you can feel the harsh winds at your back, threatening to knock you over the edge: you are unsteady, you are uneasy, and you are alone.

Astarion is calling out to you but you can’t discern his message; you can only feel his panic, his horror as his deepest fears are realized, and you feel your cheeks wet as even your vision goes dark.

“Astarion. Astarion. Astarion!” You’re screaming out to him, but you have no idea if he can hear you, because you receive nothing in response. The words seem to bounce around your empty mind.

Nothing: there is something about the absence of existence that is instinctually frightening to a vampire. Nothing is both a feeling and a state of being that vampires try to avoid.

You feel the world of the créche slip away from you as you finally fall off the cliff edge, into that strange breeze that violently whips around you.

“Astarion?” You keep reaching out to your bonded mate, desperate for him to respond.

Even your nose is blind. You start to think that maybe you’re dead when you no can longer feel your body. You don’t know how long you stay like this for, in this state where only your consciousness seems to exist with itself. You don’t think about much other than Astarion, who will surely come and save you at some point, even if you are dead.

Your hearing is the first to come back to you: someone is shuffling around you, maybe even pacing. For a moment, you think maybe it’s Astarion, until your sense of smell comes back online: nothing about wherever you had been taken smells remotely like your husband.

On the contrary, it smells distinctly like another vampire. This is when you start to panic. Tears are already sliding down your cheeks once your sense of touch comes back to you, realizing that you are wrapped in the arms of another man.

His skin is cool, scaley, his large arm coiled around your body as you try to squirm away from him. You realize now that whatever spell had been placed on you was wearing off.

Your entire body is trembling, and there is a stabbing pain in your chest and your temples at the realization that you are alone in your head.

“Tch tch, my little darling. Mage, again.” The man’s voice is deep, rumbling, and you feel the flicker of a long, thin tongue lap at your cheek. You won’t forget how he loves the taste of your tears.

****

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Masterlist

#ascended astarion #ascended!astarion #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #soft ascended astarion #ascended astarion x you #spawn tav #astarion x you #ascended!astarion x reader #ascended!astarion x tav #Killing Time

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freesia-writes · 1 year

Note

"If you want it, you're gonna have to come and get it from me." for rex? please 💙💙💙

Ok, let’s gooo! I was panicking trying to figure out if Rex or Reader should say the line, so I just went with what came as I was writing... I always see Rex as awkward at first, but we all know he's got some passion underneath that can be coaxed out with the right situation. ;) Hope it's a fun read! <3

Rex x GN!Reader Word Count: 2.2k Content Warnings: PG-13 drinking, threats, kissing...?

Also, this picture was in my head the whole time. ;)

It had been weeks. The 501st had been on Coruscant while their Venator was undergoing major repairs after an obnoxious ambush by the Separatists. There were only so many drills and armor inspections that could be done, so the clones found themselves at 79s more frequently than they were used to. It was a good opportunity to blow off some steam, to enjoy a change of pace from the constant horrors of war, and they were in generally good spirits. You’d been frequenting the place as well, finding it a welcome distraction from your recent break-up and mundane, dead-end job.

The boys in blue were always a good time, and you enjoyed the occasional chat with a few of them, but there was always one who tended to keep to himself, chatting with his fellow captains and other squad members in various corners of the bar. You’d made eye contact a few times, finding yourself oddly drawn to him, but he’d been quick to avert his gaze with a sheepish look. It seemed a stark contrast to what you’d heard about him as a fearless yet humble soldier, a courageous leader, and a proficient warrior. Needless to say, you were tired of the blatant approaches from the bar patrons with less finesse, and the idea of not being fawned over was an appealing one. Perhaps you could even have a legitimate conversation.

You’d made some efforts to place yourself near him, but the way he’d shift uncomfortably on his feet made you wonder if your presence was unwelcome. Finally, after unabashedly using Fives as a cover for a few nights in a row, he called you out.

“Just go talk to him,” he said suddenly, elbowing you in the side a little harder than he intended.

“What!” you gasped, partly in pain and partly surprised at his directness.

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are. I don’t know how you’re so impervious to my charm, but it’s obvious you’ve been stealing glances at him while you’re talking to me. So just go talk to him.” His response was laced with a grin and a glint in his eyes, and a blush blossomed across your cheeks.

“I don’t know what--”

“Alright, come on,” Fives interrupted, taking you by the elbow and heading toward Rex. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and it took all your concentration to avoid tripping over your own feet as you were steered toward the captain, who was talking with another clone and immediately stiffened as he saw you approach.

“Hey Captain,” Fives said casually, pulling up in front of them, “We were just talking about that backward strategy you pulled on Saleucami, and this pretty little thing wanted to hear more about your battle tactics.”

You groaned inwardly, resisting the urge to slap your palm into your forehead, but the awkward noise that came from Rex immediately diffused the tension with hilarity.

“Ehhrmmeheh…” he said, eyes darting from Fives to you. His companion chuckled, slapping him on the back and saying his goodbyes as he left with Fives, leaving the two of you staring at each other.

“So uh… Battle tactics… That’s… hard…” you offered, clasping your hands together in front of you and trying not to fidget.

“It’s… Well, we’re trained… And the generals, and admirals, and… you know. It’s not just me,” Rex offered, running a hand over his closely-shaved blonde hair. His helmet was on the counter nearby, and you noticed the interesting markings across the top, making a mental note to ask about them later. You took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly to steady your nerves, and leaned against the counter, feeling yourself relax a little.

“Okay, so what would you do in this scenario…” You quizzed, and the two of you launched into the nerdiest discussion of war strategy you could have imagined. The minutes ticked by, and you started to feel much more comfortable. Rex was clearly engaged, enjoying the intellectual challenge and particularly appreciating the familiarity of the content. Drinks were refilled, you began coming up with increasingly ridiculous situations, both of you loosening up and laughing a bit more, and finally the conversation turned toward other things. He shared about the early days of the war, you talked about your aspirations for a career that seemed to be just out of your reach, and the discussion was occasionally punctuated by the arrival of someone else who wanted to have a quick talk with Rex. He would engage for a bit, sending you the occasional side glance and grin that made your heart skip a beat, then would turn back to you.

Things were going fantastically, but you were suddenly interrupted by a very unwelcome presence -- a regrettable one-night-stand from a while ago who had never quite gotten the hint that you didn’t want to talk to him again. He sidled up next to you, a little too close for comfort, sloshing his drink a bit as he leaned into your side with a foul-breathed greeting.

“Well helloooooo! Fancy meeting you here!” he slurred, eyes roving over you with thinly veiled interest. You crinkled your nose, leaning away from him a bit, and Rex noticed your discomfort.

“Hi there,” he said, a sudden air of authority in his voice that gave you goosebumps. “We were just heading out, but nice to see you, and hope you have a good night!” He rose to his feet from the stool he’d been resting on, offering his arm to you as he used the other one to tuck his helmet against his hip. You stood as well, taking his arm and muttering a farewell to the inebriated mistake of your past, who started rambling something incoherent after you as the two of you strolled out the front door.

The cool night air hit your face, refreshing and invigorating after the cloying warmth of 79s as you walked down the street and around the corner. You realized with a start that Rex was looking at you, a little half-smile on his face that made you suddenly want to kiss him. What were you supposed to do now? It had been a diversion to leave the bar, but you now found yourself with no plan of where to go. You opened your mouth for some feeble attempt at a joke, but were suddenly interrupted by a loud voice behind you.

“Hey! I wazzn done with you! I’sstill talkin n you left!”

You whirled around, matched in speed by Rex who had turned to face the threatening sound immediately. The obnoxious little hemorrhoid was staggering after you, still holding the glass from the bar, waving it angrily at the two of you. His face was bright red, mouth spluttering with words, and you wondered how you ever made such a bad decision like that. Your self-flagellation was halted by the gentle push of Rex’s helmet into your arms, as he stepped slightly in front of you to face the approaching complainer.

“Easy there, brother. Why don’t you take your glass back and have a good night?” Rex said, striking a balance of firmness and affability. You marveled at his ability to be direct without the bravado that so many insecure men would immediately put on when challenged in any way.

“YOU take thglass back!” the parasite spluttered, making a sudden lunge at the two of you. In one smooth motion, Rex moved the two of you sideways, out of the way of the ill-aimed charge, and you let out a little yelp of surprise as you backed up against the wall beside you, clutching the helmet in your arms. In a flash, Rex was in front of you, holding a hand up toward the angry little fuss, who was revving up for another go. He came at the Captain and was easily dodged, running past in a clumsy bundle of flailing limbs, crashing into some passersby who squawked in surprise and disapproval.

“Time to go home,” Rex commanded, still squaring up in case the fool decided to have another go. And indeed he did, lowering his head and taking a swing at the clone, who effortlessly dodged it and quickly swept his legs out from under him. He fell backward with a disproportionately satisfying thwack, head knocking into the mirror of a speeder on the way down, sending the glass mug flying from his hand, and passed out cold. You cringed, pressing the back of your head into the wall in embarrassment, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Rex turned back to you, expression unreadable, and you began to offer your apologies.

“I’m so sorry,” you started, but he waved them away, and you were overcome with the sudden realization of just how damn sexy he was. The combination of hours of conversation, his intelligence and humility, and the fearless protectiveness were intoxicating, and the rush of all that had just happened hit you like the brick wall you were backed up against.

“Eh, I guess it’s the struggle of having such devoted followers,” Rex said dismissively, a playful smile on his face.

“More like clingy regrets from a moment of bad judgment,” you admitted, turning his helmet in your hands.

“I’ll take that if you’d like,” he said, extending a hand warmly and nodding toward the helmet.

Whether it was the thrill of the series of events, the culmination of the emotional roller coaster you’d been on in life, or just the sheer magnetism of the blonde beauty in front of you, a sudden courage found its way into your heart. You hoped it would be received well, but it just felt so… right. You took a step forward, shifting the helmet around behind your back, holding it in both arms between your spine and the wall, and lifted your chin toward Rex with a cheeky grin.

“If you want it, you’re gonna have to come and get it from me.”

You didn’t know where it came from, but the spark between the two of you was undeniable, and you held your breath as Rex raised an eyebrow in surprise. Your heart skipped a beat when he pursed his lips, assessing you with a gaze that made your knees weak. He had seemed so awkward at the bar, so unsure of himself, but now he was none of those things. His presence exuded confidence, and he moved slowly toward you. The smoldering intensity in his eyes melted you to the core, and you inhaled sharply as he brought his face within inches of yours. You could feel his breath on your cheek as he leaned toward your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Well look at you all of a sudden,” he purred, reaching an arm around your side. You temporarily forgot about the helmet as he moved his lips from your ear to your mouth, not touching, just barely hovering in the most tantalizing way. His eyelids were low as he took in a slow breath, raising his eyes to yours and brushing the tip of your nose with his own on the way. Your lips parted slightly, holding your breath, every nerve in your body on fire as you found yourself yearning to close the distance between the two of you but also finding yourself frozen in place, unable to move.

The tension was suddenly broken as you felt the helmet slip out from behind you, and you fell back into the wall with a surprised gasp. Rex stood up straight, holding the helmet up triumphantly with an eyebrow waggle. The flood of emotions was indescribable -- shock, humor, indignation, disappointment, delight…

“That’s not fair!” you breathed, feeling slightly embarrassed at being toyed with, and you took a hopeless swipe at the helmet, which he easily pulled out of reach with a smile.

“You’re right…” he answered, surprising you as he pressed forward against you, snugly trapping you between his plastoid armor and the wall. You brought a hand to his chest plate, the other resting on his hip, looking up at him in thoroughly flustered admiration. You didn’t even know what to do with yourself at this point, but he lifted his free hand to your chin, tipping it upward ever so gently, and hesitated to scan your eyes for consent. You closed them, leaning forward slightly, and he dropped his helmet to the ground, snaking his other arm around your waist, pressing the most deliciously tender kiss to your mouth. Electricity coursed from your head to your toes, and you melted against him, drowning in his scent and taste and touch. A quiet, contented “hmm” rumbled in his chest, and you lifted a hand to the back of his neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss blissfully.

It felt like hours and seconds simultaneously when you finally parted, sucking in the cool air in disbelief and amazement. He leaned his forehead gently against yours, leaving his eyes closed for a moment, a small smile on his lips, and you reveled in the contrast of his sharp features and the softness of his touch. What a change from the flustered, awkward start of your interaction… A million thoughts and questions flew through your mind, but you let them all drift away to instead savor the moment.

“Thank you?” you whispered, earning a tiny chuckle from him.

“My pleasure,” Rex answered, “Should we go discuss some more battle strategy?”

You laughed out loud now, giving his cheek a fond caress, "Fantastic idea."

LOOK!! Fanart!! 😭😍🥹👏🏻👏🏻 SO HAWTT!!

#rex star wars #captain rex #sexy rexy #clone captain rex #rex #tcw rex #rex fanfic #rex one shot #captain rex one shot #captain rex fic #captain rex fluff #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #rex x reader #rex x you

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holyxxx3 · 1 month

Text

I present to you, Dammor, a half-incubus Tiefling himbo with a tragic background but a sweet personality (most of the time).

Personality

Despite his past Dammor is very kind to those who are kind, but can be even more unemotional and cruel to those who display cruel behavior. He is very attentive and helpful. He also is extremely insightful, making him almost impossible to deceive. He will use this insight to help a friend, motivate others, or to intimidate anyone who stands against him or his friends with cruel but calm observations of their most delicate and personal matters only to inflict emotional disadvantage.

Despite everything, he considers himself a person with much love to share.

Recruitment

Dammor can be found in act 1 inside the Shattered Sanctum being whipped by Abdirak. You can recruit this companion by rolling a deception dice and convincing Abdirak that his punishment technique is insufficient. Dammor's and player's tadpoles connect, revealing an inner muttering about an undescribable pain, something that makes both of you feel a stab of immense guilt and that only more pain will ease this sorrow. To recruit this companion you will have to roll a persuasion check and pick the option 'Use the tadpole to show him your sympathy.', if succeeded, this will automatically make Dammor collapse on his knees and make him start crying his soul out as he releases some of his pain out. Abdirak will admire this display with delight as he thinks you're using your 'true soul' influence to inflict psychological pain on Dammor, leaving him satisfied and ready to let you take Dammor with you as your personal pet now that you've 'earned him'.

Trivia: - When inspecting Dammor before this cutscene, you can see his class is Barbarian. But when inspecting him after the scene his class changes to Paladin.

-When inspecting Dammor after this cutscene he doesn't have the Loviatar's blessing, meaning that he truly always accepted his brutal penance, and is so used to pain from his own self flagellation punishments that Abdirak wasn't satisfied with Dammor's silent bearing.

Approval

Dammor's approval rate is based on acts of selflessness, even if the cost is self-sacrifice or well being. Displaying the acceptance of one's pain and suffering as a conduit for other's happiness and well being will get Dammor to like you more, as he will see in you someone who understands him.

Romance

Despite being able to recruit Dammor in the early game, this companion will only open up for romance in act 3 after finding his childhood foster home and killing the mysterious old lady inside.

Dammor's romance will change his behavior towards the player and their other love interest, he will become more protective and more ruthless in the pursuit of the safety of his loved ones.

Dammor is ployamorous; "I cannot deprive others from my love as I love everyone equally."

Personal quest

Dammor's personal quest is located in Avernus.

In order to complete his personal quest the player must find the remains of Dammor's family, which consist in; a single adult Tiefling horn carved with infernal writing that reads "Lapis Sanguinis", a necklace and a music box.

Background

Dammor is an orphan, his 3 father's and 2 mothers died protecting him and siblings from the dangers of Avernus.

He caughts the attention of an elite leader and gets adopted by him.

Adoptive father sends him to a prestigious academy that trains both soldiers and scholars within Avernus.

He doesn't feel sure about his new life while others are constantly in danger, and always thinks about his siblings.

Gets picked on a lot, bullied a lot for being quiet, non confrontational. Eventually gets abused by both classmates and adoptive father.

He first kills his adoptive father not being able to take more abuse. Then kills one of his bullies.

Bhaal as entity manifests to him, promising safety in murder.

Gets expelled but he steals what he can so he can locate his siblings and take them with him to leave Avernus. Only one is alive and they escape the hells.

Ends up in Baldur's gate, a mysterious woman offers shelter days after he arrives.

Woman is a Bhaal cultist sent to retrieve him and teach him the murder ways, he eventually gets manipulated and forced to kill his sibling to prove himself to Bhaal.

He still can't quite convert fully, there is still light in his heart, but mostly guilt.

Manages to be raised by Bhaal cultists but normalizes murder for safety, his demeanor and presence change drastically under the Bhaalist nurturing, making him seem incredibly unforgiving, intimidating and ruthless but deep down he is still the insecure and quiet little kid he always was.

Not being able to find sense in his life, he wants to end it but nautiloid abduction event happens.

The effects of the symbiotic relationship with the tadpole makes his brain bring childhood memories he didn't even know he had, making him lose interest in ending his life as long as he can have new memories, even if it's little by little, but each memory reinforces the idea that only his pain and suffering will serve as penance for his deep guilt, forging him into constantly seeking self flagellation to feel at ease.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 tiefling #bg3 fanart #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #drawing #tav #my tav #tav lore #Dammor #digital art

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youngroyals-baby · 2 months

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Sorry, this is gonna be long 😃 These are my random thoughts on season 3 after having watched it twice.

Overall, I LOVED the season so much, even though it hurt so much! I really get Omar now when he said that this season would be depressing! And tissues were indeed needed!

First my non Wilmon related opinions:

- Sara and Micke‘s plotline was interesting on the first watch, but I will most probably skip it from now on. When it was announced that the Micke actor would be back, this was not what I had in mind! I wanted Simon/Micke scenes, maybe even one with Wille too. I don‘t know, I expected everything except this, but it kind of worked, I guess?

- I loved how Sara and Simon’s conflict was portrayed! And it‘s heartbreaking that Simon wanted contact with Micke all those years and just remained distant because of Sara 😣. Their talk in the classroom (during the strike) was so, so so good! Poor Simon was suffering so much! Also, I really liked the scene when he forgave Sara (amazing acting by Frida here!). In short, the Simon/Sara storyline was so well done, I really enjoyed it!

- August: I see and acknowledge (to an extent at least) that he had emotional growth this season, but I don‘t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him. Also him and Sara, I‘m just not 100 percent invested in their story

- The school inspection and strike storyline was just used as a tool to separate Wille and Simon. I didn‘t like it but I didn‘t hate it either. It just wasn’t necessary I think. And I want my original headmistress back!

- The Queen: I hate her! Wille was right to say what he did in episode 5. I was hoping for a Kristina redemption arc but not anymore. Kristina really is the absolute worst mother who shows absolutely no interest in her son‘s life and just burdens everything on him. After all he‘s been through. And yes, Duke Ludvig sucks too!

And now my thoughts on Wilmon:

- Clearly they love each other so much! And I have such a deep understanding for both of them! I love these characters with all my heart and I just want them to be okay (and hopefully happy) in the end 😭

- I want to protect Simon at all costs! He was suffering so much this season. It was so realistic and his storyline was so well scripted and amazingly portrayed by Omar! Watching him was so frustrating at times, but I think not reading/responding to comments is so much easier said than done. Rosh‘s (or was it ayub‘s?) comment „we just don‘t want you to delete yourself“ gave me goosebumps and was like an eye opener to me. I don‘t want Simon to leave behind everything that makes him who he is, just for the sake of being with Wille.

- Poor Wille! Hasn‘t he suffered enough already? 😢 I think that he would never hurt Simon on purpose! But honestly, it‘s relatable (though heartbreaking) that he lashed out at times. His parents left him completely alone and the Erik thing crushed his world completely. Wille was relying on Simon too much (especially in episode 5) but that was also so relatable! He has so much on his plate right now and so much emotional baggage, I don‘t know if he is in a mental state to have a happy and somewhat normal relationship with Simon right now.

- I think that Wilmon communicated rather well this season in terms of not keeping secrets from each other. Wille told Simon about his mum‘s health condition and also about Erik (not instantly, but he told him). And Wille knew about Simon’s struggles too. They get better at bringing certain topics to the table.

- in the first episode Wille said that he could be both, crown prince and Simon’s boyfriend. In a later episode he told Simon that he just wants to be with him. I think this is what episode 6 will be about. Wille will have to decide between the crown and Simon. If he accepts his role as crown prince, I doubt that he and Simon will be able to work it out in the long run, at least not now. Those problems and restrictions will always be there.

- If Wille continues to stay crown prince, chances are he might forever be miserabel (with or without Simon). I was hurting for him when he told Kristina that he would handle it. But I think that after episode 5, and after finding out the truth about his idol Erik, he might be ready to put himself first and step back from this duty. Then their love would have a chance and Simon wouldn‘t have to hide who he really is.

- As I said, I have a deep understanding for Wille, except of when he shushed Simon, when he treated him like shit in the music room and when he ignored his phone call. That‘s just not our Wille that would cry his heart out for this boy in season 2.

- Wilmon intimacy was as amazing as ever! Their playful scene in the palace in episode 1 was beautiful! They were both so happy 😭.

-Wille‘s heart „tattoo“ was the cutest thing ever! Also him joining the choir just to be near Simon was so sweet! But Simon not enjoying singing as much as he used to, broke my heart

- their little making out session right after Wille joining the choir was breathtakingly beautiful 🥰

- the sex scene was incredibly soft, tender and passionate and full of love. Also their talk afterwards made my insides melt. Simon laying in Wille‘s lap and Wille playing with his hair 😍 That‘s all I wanted!

- Wille‘s picture of him and Simon!!! And his smile whenever he thought of seeing Simon again. He is so in love!!!!

- I also loved their waking up together scene during the strike. That was so, so soft 💜. And Simon‘s happy birthday song and the sandwich!!! Ahhhhh!!!

- I’m so glad we got not one, but two reciprocal I love you‘s! But: I want a reciprocal I love you where the viewers can actually see their faces. So them not saying it on the phone and not in a dark room. But I don‘t want to complain here, the I love you‘s were beautiful

- The last scene from episode 5 made me cry but it was nothing I didn‘t expect. When they teased the cliffhanger I knew it had to be them breaking up

- Apart from his outfit, Simon did so well during the birthday dinner! Wille really has an amazing and supporting boyfriend!

- Edvin‘s acting when shouting at his parents was insane! He is one of the best young actors I’ve ever seen, really! I was blown away completely!

I really want them to have their happy ending in episode 6! But above all, I want them individually to not be hurting anymore! No matter how it ends, I still think they‘re it for each other, their love just might be too strong to handle right now. Right now my bet is a „you are the love of my life but let‘s give us both time to heal and try again in the future“ kind of ending. I‘d rather have Wille let August take over and be together with Simon. I think that only with Simon Wille has a chance of true happiness and pure love.

#young royals #young royals season 3 #yr s3 spoilers #yr s3 #young royals s3 spoilers #omar rudberg #edvin ryding

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linaselandbasil · 3 months

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Vampire Kareshi ch.3

Ch.1, Ch.2, AO3 link.

University au, Bloodweave.

Have fun reading yall!

...

After a long shower, a careful trim of his beard, cutting of his nails and a few drops of cologne, he felt ready. He put the wizardly robes on, he was looking great, feeling giddy. But also he's going to throw up from the stress.

"Wyll I'm nervous." He finally turned to his friend after a few minutes of checking the time and waiting for an 'im here' text.

"But you want this, so get yourself together. " Wyll was looking at him pacing in the room, comfortably sitting on the couch with a can of some disgusting sugary death drink in hand.

"I do. I'm just not used to stuff like this! Do you think he's going to kiss me?"

"I don't know. I'm sure he will if you ask him to. But make sure you don't kiss him too soon, wait until the end of the night."

"Um, okay."

"And don't be afraid to flirt. He will probably be put off if you just take all the compliments and don't give any back, it would make it seem like you're not enjoying yourself."

"Understood." A notification sound rang aloud in the room. "It's time... Thank you for lending me your fancy cologne, it won't be forgotten!" He checks the message.

'I'll be there in a few minutes, cant wait to see you darling.'

Darling... DARLING!

'The feeling is mutual.'

"Are you not going to get going?" Wyll asked, confused as to why his friend was just watching the parking lot from the window.

"I'll teleport, it makes an impression!"

"You can do that?"

"Of course, what kind of wizard can't teleport? Oh look, he's there!" Wyll scampered to the window to finally see this mistery man.

"That... My father has a car like that, just who is this guy?"

"He said his father was Cazador. I suppose that should tell you something."

"Cazador Szarr? I'm not surprised he has a son I've never heard about, I'm sure he has a couple more he himself hasn't seen."

"I see. Well, it's lovely talking to you in our shared livingspace that I see you in every single day, but I think it's time for me to get going! Until next time!" He bowed and walked into a portal that was freshly opening up behind him.

In the ambiguous space between the two portals he found himself a little stuck. Oh no...

...

Astarion checked himself out in the selfie camera, carefully inspecting his visage. He'd do it in one of the many mirrors of Cazadors displacer but he cannot, for obvious reasons.

He was startled by a loud magic magicing right beside his car. He was not eager to get out and see what's up on account of him being in the possession of survival instincts, but when a hand with a pretty ring on it reached out, he became intrigued.

"A hand? Please?"

"Oh, Gale! It's you!"

"Can you help me out?" He grabbed the hand and began pulling. No use. In the meantime Wyll was watching all of this go down from the window and thought 'That's one hell of an impression you're making.' He pitied the both of them and reached into the portal to give Gale a good push. He has 9 strength, so he's not much better off than the other two but it did the trick!

Astarion could barely keep standing as the human fell into his arms. "So you're a wizard?"

"Yes, I am! An apprentice of Elminster and a graduate of the Wizarding academy of Waterdeep! I'm working on my second degree here in Baldur's gate." He straightened up, proud as could be. Suddenly as he was faced with the elf, all his nervousness faded into oblivion. Standing this close, Gale also noticed that the elf was not by much, but still a little shorter than him. He seemed taller on camera, not that Gale is complaining.

"I wouldn't have guessed you were a wizard! This is interesting to say the least! I must say, you look positively delectable, darling."

"So do you." Gale looked at the vampires outfit, which was hard to see as it was mostly black. What Gale didn't fail to notice was the way it glittered as it was illuminated by streetlights. "You look much more solemnly dressed, I must say I feel like a clown."

"Oh no, you'll be fine, I'm the weird one for dressing for the casket I was always destined for. I felt like I didn't wear this black jacket enough, so I put an outfit together just so I can wear it."

"I'd say it was a great idea, you look... Pretty." The wizard fiddled with the sun motifs embroidered into the robes of summer.

Astarion opened the door of the car and beckoned him in. He did so without a question. Astarion followed shortly after, starting the car once again. "Thank you. But let me warn you, this gift is particularly hard to open, the zipper on this top always gets stuck!" Astarions sharp gaze was solely fixed on the road ahead, but he can definitely tell Gale was flustered beyond belief.

"I- I see... "

"You're cute, I'll stop, I can see that you're a bit uncomfortable."

"No, continue! I'm just not in my element, not much experience you see!"

"I understand." He started the car, all he could think about was how much he he wished that Cazador didn't like this one.

...

To Gales surprise, he wasn't over or under dressed, he was perfect. That didn't make him feel any less strange though.

A couple of guests he spoke to seemed to eye him with interest, then with disappointment as they got nearer, he wondered what that was about. Maybe they didn't like that he seemed to already have a pair.

"Darling, care for a drink?" Astarion appeared right besides him, speak of the devil. He's quiet as a kitten, but Gale didn't know he was supposed to get spooked so he didn't.

"I've had plenty already, thanks." He looked around at the other guests, who were behaving very very improperly. He's not that kind of girl.

"Hmm, you know, these people are quite the company, but I'd prefer yours alone. Would you like to find us a dark corner to slink away into?" Astarions arm was wrapped around his, the human could hear the sequins of Astarions jacket scrape against his robes rough outer layer.

"Sounds like a fantastic idea, let's go!" Gale didn't like these sorts of gatherings, he was eager to be in peace at last. The pale elf pulled him in the direction of the hallway, which was clearly not to be explored by the attendees.

Servants rushed back and forth through it, paying the two of them no mind. It was a lot darker than the ballroom, giving the illusion of privacy, but believe me, someone's always watching in the Szarr Palace.

On the balcony, the air was cold, but refreshingly less stinky than inside.

"Finally, a moment to ourselves, I almost wish we didn't even come to the party, hiding away in the gardens would have been just as good." Astarion said, inching closer to Gale. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"I would." Gale did some wizardly magic hand gestures at the sky and gorgeous swirling colorful lights appeared. Gale leaned into the railing and noticed Astarion immediately got cozy very close to him, they were touching, it was to the wizards liking but it still got his pulse all the way up.

"Fascinating. Can you also make a bed appear?"

"I can, although maybe that would be untimely, considering this is our first date."

"...True. You want another date after this? I hadn't been on a second date in a long while." Gale was quite surprised to hear that.

"Why not? I thought people were begging for your attention."

The charming smile came back to the face of the pale elf. "You know what? Let's not talk about that! Tell me about yourself!"

He thought for a second, there's a lot to say. "Um, I have a tressym, her name is Tara."

"I love cats." Astarion got real cozy, putting an arm behind Gale and watching the magic show.

"Me too, don't call her that to her face though. It's like me calling you a mosquito man." Astarions smile dissapeared, he looked at his date.

"... What."

"Because, you know, vampire?"

"YOU- You knew?" He put some distance between the two of them so he cam properly glare at the human.

"Of course I knew! You're not quite as subtle as you think and I'm a wizard, I know a thing or two about the undead."

"That's fair, how silly of me... It's almost midnight, isn't it. Almost time." Something is weird about him all of a sudden. Gale senses some sort of magic in the air that doesn't belong to him.

"For what?" The vampire stood up, pulling Gale with him. "Astarion?"

"Follow me."

He almost ran. Briskly walking through the dark rooms, back through the ballroom, into a weirdly placed door and straight dark hallway. Gale was never an athlete, he was wheezing. Through all this, he barely noticed the magic getting stronger. At the end of this hallway there was a room, which Astarion barged into, pulling the wizard along.

"Astarion, it was about time you arrived." Said someone whom also appeared to be a vampire. "Come closer."

Astarion dragged him towards the man, which Gale tried to resist but couldn't. "Are you Cazador?"

"Oh, you recognize me? How fun!" He stood up, towering over the both of them. He looked like he smelled something foul, but quickly schooled his face.

"Must have noticed my blood, let me assure you, it's not tasty!"

Cazador furiously glared at Astarion.

"I swear, I didn't tell him!" His tone was calm and collected, but still. He was afraid.

"I figured it out myself, you guys are not exactly masters of deception." Gale was often jarringly confident in his.... Well, everything. He thought that since he was in on some kind of secret, the vampire would spare his life.

Well, it wouldn't be smart to attack a mage.....Cazador is not the smartest, or the prettiest or nicest, but he's not attacking Gale of Waterdeep. Not that he knows who Gale, is, he hadn't left his palace in decades. "You're dismissed."

Astarion then dragged him out of the room and back to the balcony, completely ignoring his questions. This is so weird.

...

"So you can safely teleport back to your dorm? If not, I promise I'll pay for the taxi, just don't do it drunk." The vampire leaned into the railing of the balcony.

"I'll manage. I didn't have that much!" Gale adjusted his hat and awkwardly looked at Astarion, who was being eaten alive in self loathing and dread. He didn't show that, only a tiny bit of worry slipped past his walls for the wellbeing of someone he was ready to let Cazador drain dry.

"I'll trust your judgment, I was never any good at magic." They stared at each other, waiting for the other to say something.

"Is it appropriate to kiss on the first date?" Asked Gale, trying not to sink into the tiles from shame.

Astarion was about to say 'first base is missionary' but held his tounge. "Do you want to?" He asked with a grin you'd want to wipe off of him with a well balanced bitch slap.

"I do."

Astarion stepped closer, got on his tippy toes and kissed him. On the mouth. He put his hands on Gales arms, keeping him in place. Gale was still as a statue though, there was no need to hold him.

When it was over, Gale had a goofy grin on his face and got very very very red. A portal opened behind him and he slowly backed into it, feeling the vampires hand gently slide off of his arm.

"Goodbye, I'll text you."

"See you, hopefully soon."

...

#baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #bloodweave #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction

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