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#as well as his inner turmoil because of it
indelicateink · 4 hours
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just going over some things jacob anderson has hinted at in recent press that make me feral about the pending back half of season 2 lol
Louis, for example, might not be the tragic figure we think he is. Anderson teases that viewers still haven’t seen his character as he truly is. Maybe in Dubai, where he lives with Armand in the present as their kind is quietly setting in motion a worldwide coup of sorts. But even there, he speaks of his past from the perspective of a romanticized victim which he cautions the viewer to question as they empathize with him.
—Salon interview with Jacob Anderson and Sam Reid, 26 May 2024
——
Yeah, he’s in a very different space. The dam breaks in episode seven of Season 1, and there’s a level of pretend that he can’t achieve anymore. He still has an innate attachment to modern-day Louis that’s like an alien quality that comes in and out, but he’s pretty raw at the beginning of the season and only gets rawer. So yeah, he’s in quite a significantly different place with Louis’ journey in Europe, as well as him having to come to terms with what he’s really about. In Season 1, and it was a big thing in the book, it was about moral versus aesthetic. You really see the completion of that idea in Season 2. What is Louis really about? Is he all about morality, or is there quite a significant aesthetic element to that? He’s a complicated one with lots of problems.
—Jacob Anderson, Collider, 3 June 2024
——
“It is a very, very emotional season,” he says, before clarifying that he thinks season 1 was also emotional but season 2 provides a new perspective into his character’s psyche.
“I think that it’s an intellectual current that runs through Louis and the way that Louis speaks. It’s a front in season 1. It’s a front for detachment, and it all kind of breaks down to a raw, like what’s underneath the skin," he adds.
The Game of Thrones alum confesses that fans “are going to scream at the TV” but adds that he believes fans will “feel a huge amount of satisfaction and catharsis and all the emotions.”
“I think when people watch it, there are going to be things that are shocking to hear that come out of that,” he notes.
—People interview with Jacob Anderson and Sam Reid, 10 May 2024
——
Louis’ struggles to connect with the two major loves of his life are a sign of his inner turmoil, says Anderson. “Louis self-sabotages all the time because he’s not comfortable with who he actually is. I think being a vampire is actually what Louis always was supposed to be,” he says. “It feels like there’s a relationship between Louis’ vampiric nature and the way he was before he became a vampire. And that’s something that he finds very difficult to accept.”
“His journey in Season 2 is really reckoning with himself,” he goes on. “Imagine you go on a journey of self-discovery and what you find is that you were the problem. What you discover is that you’re kind of everything that you dislike about other people. I think that’s a very hard thing to find about yourself, and he does.”
—TV Insider interview with Jacob Anderson, 2 June 2024
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seleneprince · 1 month
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Unpopular opinion #3 (since people seem to like these stuff)
I'm gonna get hate for this but
Hinny feels forced and out of nowhere to me.
They had the perfect set up for a cute romance. Best friend's younger sister whom he's used to take care of, but suddenly she grows, doesn't seek his attention anymore and he slowly gets to know her as her own person instead of his buddie's sister. He find himself drawn to her and feels guilty about it for the typical reasons, only to realize she feels the same way, always has, and boom, their feelings finally clash in a passionate kiss after months of sexual tension and years of mutual pining. Beautiful.
Or at least that's what could have been if we saw them interacting more after the Chamber of Secrets thing, but we don't. Ginny practically dissapears after that, we only know of her through others' pov, and when she finally becomes relevant in harry's radar is when she's dating other boys and shows her skills in the quidditch field. Then suddenly, he notices how beautiful and funny she is, even though they're from the same house and they've surely seen each other often, either at the Burrow or around the common room.
They don't have a proper built-up, or any relevant interactions that hints at harry's interest in her, at least not enough to showcase the epic endgame couple they're supposed to be. It feels to me like the recurring trope that when a girl is in love with the protagonist long enough, she's bound to end up with him. Or the when someone is in love with you for so long, you must give them a chance.
I think one of the reasons it pisses me off so much is ginny's wasted potential. Because we could have had an amazing and compelling story about personal growth with a girl that, sick of being in her brothers' shadow and overlooked, finds the courage to forge her own path and make people recognize her for who she is, not as another Weasley. A story where, instead of fooling around to "make time" until her crush to notices her, she moves on from him and starts to date boys because she actually likes them and enjoys dating.
But no. Instead, all that development from her part is reduced to "hermione told me you might like me if i acted more like myself" "she told me to date other boys" bla bla bla
In conclussion:
Hinny had great potential as a love story, but it was done poorly
(REMINDER: This is just my opinion, and by no means i intend to force it unto other people or offend anyone. if you like hinny as a couple, good for you. I won't attack you because of it)
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karinyosa · 4 months
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if i ever played jesus he would be the slimiest most decrepit doesn’t shower or sleep neurotic unwell emotional roller coaster dissociated from the human form motherfucker ever and if i ever played judas he would be a smarmy twink.
#i think jcs jesus is in a weird half dissociated state the entire play and in gethsemane i think he is like fully out of his body#he’s hallucinating in that garden#judas is like. i would make him quippy. like yes he’s a very passionate character but also i think being like#openly critical is kind of second nature to him#to the point where like i think he would just say shit#i don’t think he has to be super openly intense w jesus until the last supper (divorce song). and i like the idea of tls being like a break#ng point in a really obvious way. up to that point it’s just simmering. heaven on their minds is almost like an offhand prophecy to me#i think it could be very casual for him to be like hey best friend here’s everything that i think is wrong with you#he just says it. like that’s the kind of person he is. judas asks what everyone’s wondering. he might even view it as his duty as a friend#jesus however needs to either have the intensity dialed to 11#or just to be incredibly deflated but obviously filled with like inner turmoil. like theres ghosts in his brain and u can see it in his eye#and i think in gethsemane he would oscillate wildly between the two#i think it’s because like jesus to me thinks of himself so heavily as a vessel#so like there’s this sense that his body is just a shell or not really his#sorry didn’t mean to give your messiah dysphoria it was an accident this time#i think in a similar way with mary the mother there can be an element of thematic sa there as well#definitely not as overtly as with her but it’s that whole thing of like#your body not really belonging to yourself and existing essentially as an object or tool for someone else’s ends#there’s that sense of smallness as well. this feeling of being unable to escape this nebulous sense of ownership no matter where you are#and i mean you can map that onto all kinds of abuse. im far from the first person to point that out. anwyay its another one of those nights#i think if i ever played jesus i would get flack for making him un-messiah-like like i think he’d come off unlikable and unsettling#as he should#during holy week at least#outside of holy week he’s a charming uoung man with so much passion and drive that you really want to believe everything hes saying#to the point where you brush off his more concerning tendencies#and obv he can perform miracles too or whatever. i guess#anyway back to the intensity thing i just think it’d be funny to have a judas that’s just like#leaning on a beam or whatever like hey what ur doing rn sucks major ass. love and light#and jesus responding like a bridled horse about to crush the fucking bit between his teeth#anyway this is just what i would do. i am well aware i have only twinkish smarminess to offer for judas
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sttoru · 14 days
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‘and if i only could, i’d make a deal with god, and i’d get him to swap our places. .’ — kate bush
 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x wife!reader. fluff to angst (no comfort). spoilers chapter 261. reader’s pregnant. major character death. mentions of blood, death. nicknames ‘pretty, sweets’. not proofread bcs i couldn't through the tears. i cried nine times writing this so.. good luck! wc: 3.6k
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“he’s kicking again,” satoru chuckles excitedly. he’s been clinging onto you ever since you got back from your doctor’s appointment. your baby boy is growing up healthy and there don’t seem to be any complications.
you smile and rest back against the velvety pillows. you’re enjoying the affection you’re receiving, the kisses and nuzzles against your swollen tummy makes every bit of suffering worth it. your husband is going to be an amazing dad, that you can tell.
“hey, little guy—don’t give ya mommy a tough time,” satoru huffs and gently taps the side of your stomach that was last kicked by the unborn baby, “that’s my wife, y’know?” you giggle at the scene in front of you and close your eyes, relaxing your body.
a comfortable silence hangs in the room. satoru’s warm hands cupping and rubbing your round stomach add to the tranquil atmosphere. the weight of your husband’s head presses onto the front of your plump belly—ear pressed against the stretched skin as if expecting to hear your baby boy talk.
after a while, you open your eyes. you hear a sniff and then the usual silence follows. you look down at satoru settled between your legs, hugging your waist and resting his cheek on your tummy. he’s awfully quiet and you’re unable to see his eyes because of his bangs.
“toru, everything okay?” you carefully ask. your voice comforts him for the next couple seconds, before his muscles tense up once more. satoru tries his best to seem unaffected by the many thoughts scurrying through his head.
“mhm,” your husband nods and forces a small smile. though, he can’t keep the facade up any longer. the longer you’re pregnant, the more worried he gets about a certain something; something that’s been bothering him ever since.
it’s the reason why he doubted even having kids in the first place.
“i—well. i don’t know, sweets,” satoru sighs. a deep sigh that shatters the mask he’s had on for so long. his brows furrow and his eyes dart from one place to the other. his fingers stop their movements on your stomach. they curl around the material of your shirt instead; showing a clear sense of vulnerability.
satoru seems. . . afraid, yet also angry. perhaps at himself, perhaps at the world. you don’t utter a single word. if there’s anything you want, it’s for your husband to speak about his inner turmoil freely. you’re the only person who he can have such emotional conversations with—the only person he can be himself with.
the real gojo satoru.
not the strongest.
that’s why you’re not surprised when satoru opens his mouth to confess the inevitable to you. “i’m scared,” his voice cracks. it’s a faint change in tone, but it is noticeable to you. you’ve been his lover for long enough to notice every minuscule thing.
the white-haired man lets out another sigh. you brush his soft bangs out of his eyes and instantly notice the sudden weariness in them. normally, those beautiful blue eyes shine brightly, yet that light has now dimmed.
you pat his head and satoru immediately leans into your touch. you allow him to process his own emotions and words before speaking up.
“scared?” you ask quietly and carefully, giving your husband space to explain.
satoru nods. there are a thousand thoughts running through his mind. all those thoughts he’s tried to suppress since the day you’ve announced your pregnancy. maybe even before that—at the day of your wedding.
he’s sat down with you a few months into the marriage, to have the talk about kids. he seemed to be delighted to have children with you, however there have always been some dark and hidden thoughts lingering in the back of his mind.
the sorcerer has chosen to ignore them for the longest time. he’s been trying to convince himself that he has nothing to worry about. you’re going to be fantastic parents and your children are going to be extremely loved.
the day you surprised him with your pregnancy, was like a dream. satoru cried - which he rarely does - so it was an emotional night for both of you. neither of you could wait to meet your child—happy with whatever gender.
despite all of the optimism and enthusiasm, satoru’s struggles with his inner thoughts have not yet ended. he doesn’t want to bother you with it. you seem so content and he does not want to ruin that at all.
but even the strongest without limits has to reach a breaking point.
“yeah,” satoru speaks up, his voice hoarse. he kisses your belly button, hoping his child doesn’t pick up on his distress somehow. your husband closes his eyes as he places his forehead against your tummy, praying that the heavens above hear his pleas, “i don’t want our kid to inherit my cursed techniques. at all.”
your hand doesn’t stop stroking satoru’s hair. you don’t flinch at his words, nor do you immediately discard his worries. in all honestly, you’ve shared the same feelings before getting pregnant.
you know how satoru’s treated by the jujutsu society. it’s dehumanising how he’s seen as a weapon of some sorts. a weapon that could solve all problems—one that cannot rest until its duty is done.
you despise it. you’ve told satoru about your hatred for the toxic society, even going as far as asking him to move to a different country without telling anyone. you’re sick and tired. you can’t recall the amount of times that you’ve cried alone, in the bathroom, after you’ve seen the state your lover comes back home in.
the white-haired man always seems so tired. his eyes and head hurt because of them overusing his cursed techniques. there are even days where satoru doesn’t put his blindfold or sunglasses off at home.
and when you try to talk to him about it, satoru simply assures you that ‘he’ll be fine’. you believe him in the moment, but you don’t know for how long you’ll be able to keep that trust.
you’re letting him break, slowly yet surely, right in front of you. he’s working himself to his demise. it’s nothing out of the ordinary to not want the same for your child.
though, you’re sure that it’ll be fine even if your baby boy inherits satoru’s techniques. that’s because you two are going to protect him with all you have. no one is going to treat your child like a weapon—not while the both of you are still alive.
“i don’t want our child to take over the burden i carry,” satoru continues. his brows are furrowed and his lips are pressed into a thin line. he’s already thinking about all the possibilities that can follow with the birth of your son.
he can hide his child from the world, but wouldn’t that be too restrictive? he can keep an eye on him every second of the day, but wouldn’t that be overprotective?
you notice satoru’s internal state of panic increasing, so you quickly cup his face. you lean down and press a firm kiss against his lips, to which he instantly responds. his breath hitches and he sits up on the mattress, deepening the kiss as his hands hold you by the back of your head.
he needs this—you—more than anything else in the world. if it wasn’t for you, he’d have lost his sanity long ago.
you pull back after a good minute and pant. you chuckle as you notice the slight pout on satoru’s lips. he never seems satisfied with just one kiss, which is adorable. you coo and pepper his face with small pecks, “aww.”
it’s comforting to the sorcerer. he closes his eyes and his mouth forms a small smile. you’re doing an amazing job at calming him down. satoru’s muscles relax and he finds himself nestled between your legs soon enough.
you realise that he’s still somewhat afraid for the future of his child by the way he’s playing with your shirt. his head lays on your chest and his long fingers trace shapes on your exposed skin.
“i know, honey, i know,” you murmur against the top of his head. you massage satoru’s scalp gently, nearly making him purr because of how incredible that feels. you stare at the ceiling and continue your little talk.
“i’ve thought about all of it too,” your fingers find his undercut, playing with the little hairs. all you can hope for is that your partner stresses less about the outcome of your pregnancy.
if you can do one thing for him, it’d be that. reassuring him that you’ll both do your best for your child will surely put him at ease. your husband has enough to worry about anyway.
you want to share that burden. you don’t want him to carry the world on his shoulders alone—he’s got you for that now.
“but i think that our son will be fine. why? because he’s got you,” you smile and kiss satoru’s forehead. it’s his favorite type of kiss and it works wonders when you comfort him. his ocean eyes regain their sparkle, both because of your unconditional love and trust in his parenting skills, “our boy will grow up fine and protected because he’s got you as his amazing dad, yeah?”
satoru takes some time to let your words sink in. your trust in him is a beautiful thing. of course, he’ll protect his kid no matter what. both you and his kid will be safe for as long as he’s alive. you’re going to be a happy family—one that he’s always dreamed of having.
he isn’t going to raise his child to be the strongest. he isn’t going to raise his child as an heir to the throne. he isn’t going to raise his child as his legacy. he isn’t going to raise his child as a tool.
his son will have a normal childhood and he will guarantee that. satoru will give his kid what he didn’t have as a child himself;
unconditional love and support for whatever his son wishes to become.
satoru raises his head and leans in to kiss you, hugging you to himself. he adores you so much, you’re all he needs to feel like he can do anything and everything all at once.
carrying the world on his shoulders so you can live peacefully in it is all satoru does it for.
“heh, damn right. i’ll be the best husband and dad ever.”
. . .
but in the end, your dreams are just dreams, right?
an escape from reality, that’s all dreams really are. all those times you’ve sat together to pick the furniture you want to place in the nursery, to paint the room a baby blue, to buy clothes and toys, diapers and carriers, to giggle about the places you would love to visit as a family, to think about possible baby names, to joke about whether your son will say ‘dada’ or ‘mama’ first — all of it were naive, hopeful dreams.
perhaps you were too caught up in them to realise that reality will hit when least expected.
satoru and you have lived in your own bubble—your own little fantasy world where tragic fates does not exist. no one in this planet would suffer if life worked that way.
no one on this planet would have to pick up the phone and have their world shatter, their dream bubble pop. to have all hope lost in the span of a second.
grief is a scary thing. it’s devastating and it will consume you whole. you don’t realise that until you experience it firsthand. losing someone close to you will break you in half. it’s a punch to the gut.
especially if it’s your husband. someone you considered your partner—who’s promised you to be together forever. maybe those promises were also a part of your fantasy.
maybe they were also but a beautiful lie.
your footsteps feel heavy. you don’t have any energy left in you. every drop has been drained from you the moment you heard the news over the phone. your eyes and head hurt, both feeling like they’re going to burst. you don’t want to accept any of this.
the faces of the people around you are a blur. they’re all holding their head low, their hands gathered in front of them to show respect. no one speaks—all the room is filled with are your sobs. the loud cries you let out in hopes that they wake you up from this absolute nightmare.
you drag your feet to the examination table in the middle of the room. tears continue to blur your vision, though surely, you can confirm the outline of the body laying underneath the blanket.
how could you not recognise the person you thought you’d spend eternity with?
it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. . .
“satoru.” your voice is barely audible. your hands are shaking and your face is stained with endless streams of tears. you stand at the side of the table and you instantly curl your fingers around the edge.
seeing that face from up close hits different. usually, it’d have your stomach fill with a feeling of delight, yet now all you feel when looking at it is unimaginable dread.
the blood on the corners of his mouth. the blanket that’s hiding whatever is left of him from below the waist. the dull eyes that once stared at you with hope and love. those dried lips that normally shone with a layer of gloss.
god, it’s awful. you don’t want this to be true. you’re still waiting to be woken up by your husband. so he can hold you close and hug you, whisper sweet nothings and reassure you that he’d never leave you alone in a savage world like this.
your shaky fingers reach out to his right hand. his skin feels cold and his hand doesn’t hold yours back. your breath hitches and you let out a long, devastating cry. it sounds like a scream for help as your body crumbles—falling to your knees whilst you tightly grip your lover’s limp hand.
“no, god no, please!” you cover your mouth with your free hand, nearly hyperventilating from pure pain. you feel like your heart is going to give up on you. it’s breaking into a million pieces, as does your future. you can’t live without him—you can't do it.
satoru is the sole reason you’ve held out for so long. you were each other’s support system. you can’t do any of this on your own. you can’t breathe properly—your body doesn’t let you.
not until you feel a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. you can guess that it’s shoko, but you’re too distraught to even pay attention to her. you lift yourself up by holding onto the edge of the table, your legs shaking. you sniffle and sob uncontrollably.
you reach out to touch satoru’s lifeless face, as gentle as you always do. you flinch when you feel just how cold his body is—the usual warmth that would comfort you gone, nowhere to be found. you don’t get a reaction from him when you touch his cheeks.
it only serves to remind you of the tragic events that unveiled. you’re still in denial, but the moment feels real. your brain is slowly yet surely processing the information. though, you don’t want it to. you want to live in a world where you grow old with your husband.
where your child is going to grow up with a father figure at home.
“satoru, come back to me.. to us, please,” you beg and beg, hoping he smiles and sits up, telling you that it’s just one of his silly pranks again. when none of that happens, you feel yourself become more hopeless. you hunch over him and cup his face. the same face that would light up whenever you’d touch it.
you hiccup and wail, unable to breathe. you rub his cheekbones with your thumbs, settling your forehead against his. your tears fall underneath his eyes and slide down his temples, making it seem like he’s crying with you.
you wait for satoru to respond, but he doesn’t. there’s an eerie silence on his part and you’re panicking. you need him to comfort you, but he isn’t there to do that anymore. you’re left alone, all alone.
“i can’t do this without you—we can’t do this without you,” you stammer between sobs. you can’t go through life, knowing satoru isn’t going to be there for you. he isn’t going to come home anymore. he isn’t going to cuddle you to sleep anymore. he isn’t going to experience what it’s like to have a family of his own. he isn't going to be able to hold his child and to play with him.
you blame life for being unfair—always taking away the people who don’t deserve it. satoru hasn’t done anything to deserve this. he just.. existed. his fate of becoming the strongest, decided at his birth, is what has lead to his death.
you continue to sob to yourself. you refuse to acknowledge anything or anyone else in the room. you’re solely focused on your husband. or rather, what’s left of him.
remembering how excited satoru was to spend the rest of his life with you and your future children pains you all the more. he’s been stripped from a normal life. you’ve tried your hardest to give him that said normal life, yet your hopeful dreams have gotten you nowhere.
you wipe your tears away for the first time in a while. your grief is making you delusional—disoriented to the point you try to make yourself feel better. you force a smile and hold tightly onto satoru’s limp hand, trying to speak through your quiet sniffles.
“o-our boy is gonna be born soon,” you chuckle bitterly and place satoru’s hand on your belly. it’s gotten bigger over the months and you’re already eight months along. he was so close to meeting your child—so close. yet his tragic destiny did not allow him to.
you hope he’s been happy with you for as long as he lived. you hope you’ve somewhat relieved him from his misery for as long as he lived. that burden he carried, the world he carried on his shoulders. . . it doesn’t seem to want to detach from him. even after death.
you press a deep kiss against his forehead. satoru’s favorite spot to be kissed at, you remember. you wish he feels it in the afterlife; wherever he may he. as long as he’s in a better place now, one that treats him well. this current world has been too cruel on him. it doesn’t deserve to home someone like your husband.
“i wish you were here to see your son. to see our baby grow up, you'd be so proud, honey,” you kiss satoru’s forehead again. it’s all you can do stop yourself from losing it completely. you know satoru would tell you to be strong, for his sake. for your unborn son.
“i’m going to tell him all about you, ‘kay? i'm going to tell him about how awesome his dad was,” your voice breaks for the nth time. you’re still in the first stage of grief, though you try to seem strong in case satoru is watching from somewhere.
that’s what he did when he was the one going through a tough time. he’d act brave and fine, putting on a mask to make you worry less, telling you all kinds of reassuring words while he was suffering internally.
now it’s your turn to safely send his soul off to the afterlife. to let satoru pass away in peace, with him knowing that you’re going to live on for him and for your child. it’s the least you can do at the moment.
you put on a brave face, staring into his lifeless eyes, smiling through the unbearable pain. you’re sure he’s still listening to you from somewhere. satoru’s always told you that your voice is soothing, so you do your best to calm his soul and reassure him that it’s fine for him to rest.
“i’ll do my best to raise him, yeah? so you.. you just rest.”
rest was a foreign word to the sorcerer. this world didn’t give him an ounce of peace. he’d either be overworked by his family or the jujutsu society, and if it isn’t work, his inherited techniques were slowly killing his brain and body.
you’re praying that satoru has none of that in the afterlife. you’re praying that he can live a normal life, eternally. so that when you join him one day, you both won’t have to suffer nor share the burden. you can live out your dreams without anyone interrupting.
not even fate.
“you deserve to rest. you really do,” you sigh.
soon enough, you feel yourself crumble again. you burst out in tears once you realise that he’s actually never coming back to you in this life. you bury your face in the crook of his neck and sob loudly, not holding back your emotions anymore. you just can’t—you can’t act brave when your second half has been taken away from you so suddenly.
you hope that you succeeded into sending him off without any worries. you can’t help but continue rambling to yourself, “i’m going to miss you s’much. oh, my baby.”
you lift your head back and stare into satoru’s eyes once more. did he think about you when he was on his deathbed? did he see his life flash before his eyes, including his many memories with you? did he see what could have been?
it’s unfair.
you give him one last bright smile and gently close his eyelids for him, hoping his lost soul saw your face before you did so. with one last kiss on his lips, you whisper your final words;
“please wait for me on the other side, my love.”
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pizzabookbuying · 1 year
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The vampire diaries books 1-4 really say “Damon is a villain!!!” And then book by book reveal that he’s actually done nothing wrong ever
#the time he kidnapped Stephan and told Elena he killed him? HE ACTUALLY HAD NO IDEA WHERE STEPHAN WAS AND HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THE#DISAPPEARANCE#the time he tormented elena in the woods? WASNT HIM EITHER#the fact that he was constantly lurking around by Elena?? HE WAS PROTECTING HER#the time he murdered Elena’a history teacher?? THE TEACHER WAS TRYING TO KILL HIM???#I love Damon being characterized as emo short king with no social skills and who does 2 things his whole life (love Stephan#and love Elena)#Elena and Stephan convinced Damon is the evil tormenting fell’a church…vs Damon trying to figure out which flavor of ice cream Elena would#most like#also Damon just ready to die at any given moment for Elena—#Damon said ‘this woman hates me I might as well give her a reason to’ and then just admits to several murders he did not commit#I LOVE THAT FOR HIM HES SO DUMB#Elena’s inner monologue half the time is ‘oh no Damon is terrible he’s cruel and loves murder and he can’t be trusted’ and part of me KNWOS#Damon’s inner monologue is like ‘please look at me please look at me pleaseOMG SHE LOOKED’#I’m really sad that there was so much turmoil with the author of the series because I really wish we’d gotten the chance to just beginning#to end see Damon and Elena happen without any publisher trying to push stelena#because while I’m not a huge fan of the writing there’s something to be said about how believable Elena hates Damon? and how little she#actually knows most of the time? like yes she SHOULD hate Damon for#the first three books. he’s creepy and a evil. except sometimes he’s not. oh crap#she cares about him#but only in the way you empathize with other people#despite the bad they’ve done. wait. oh crap. he didn’t kill that person? he wasn’t responsible for any of this bad stuff? HE WAS WILLING TO#DIE—oh crap#I mean COME ON—enemies to lovers except one of them just REALLY hates the other and the other is jsut pining so hard
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prythianpages · 3 months
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When I Kissed the Teacher | Azriel
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Summary: After crushing on Azriel for almost a year, Nesta dares you to kiss him during Valkyrie training.
Warning: reader thirsting for Az and fluff for my batboy ♥
A/N: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea! Though I did a poll and Az won, I couldn't help myself and also write a version for Cas (you can read it here) as a huge thank you for following and reading my stuff. I just reached 1K followers ♥
This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:
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The first moment you saw Azriel, you were instantly drawn to him. 
His sun kissed skin radiated warmth. The hazel depths of his eyes hinted at wisdom earned through ages. His dark hair, a cascade of silken strands, framed a face sculpted to perfection. The Illyrian leathers he wore were a gift from the gods themselves as they only highlighted the well-defined muscles that lay beneath…
And his wings? Gods, those wings of his. They were massive yet delicate and iridescent. The way they always unfurled with such grace had your own wings fluttering in response.
But it wasn’t just the arresting beauty that surpassed all males you’ve encountered that drew you in. It was the impeccable way he carried himself. The mastery he exuded in combat, the patience he had while training you because if you’re going to be honest, you’re sure you pushed him past his limits. Yet, no matter how tough he was on you during training, Azriel was always kind to you outside of training grounds.
It didn’t take you long to fall for him and it didn’t matter how much you unleashed your inner turmoil onto the punching bag. Nothing could shake the strange fluttering sensation in your stomach every time your mind drifted to him. It’s like there were a million butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
Sweat glistens on your forehead and your eyebrows furrow in concentration, too lost in your thoughts to pay mind to the silent spectator that had arrived minutes ago…until he finally steps out from the shadows and speaks.
“I’d hate to be the one on your mind right now.”
A misplaced punch lands awkwardly, causing a sharp pain to shoot through your hand. “Azriel,” you breathe, your cheeks flushing as you cradle your hand close to your chest. If only he knew…
“Fuck,” Azriel curses, hazel eyes flashing with concern. He swiftly closes the distance between and gently takes your injured hand into his, inspecting it with a small frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You could never scare me.”
Azriel raises an eyebrow, eyes lifting to meet yours. “Is that so?” He replies, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I think I may be going too soft on you then”
“Soft?” You exhale in an incredulous manner, remembering the way your last training session with Azriel had ended. 
He had taunted you and your Illyrian blood had heated at the challenge in his words, allowing him to coax you into combating him. Of course, you were no match for him. You had begun training only a year ago, thanks to Emerie’s invitation. Azriel had centuries on you. Your muscles were still aching from the aftermath.
Azriel chuckles. “Come,” he says, guiding you back into the house. His hand holds onto your wrist lightly, being careful so as not to hurt your injured hand further. “Let’s get you patched up.”
**
As Azriel carefully attends to your hand, you can’t help the way your gaze lingers on him. His features are tense with concentration and concern, unbothered by the dark fringe that falls slightly over his eyes. Your uninjured hand is itching to run through those dark strands and brush his hair back for him.
You swear your heart skips a beat when Azriel lifts his gaze, catching your brazen staring. A flush spreads across your cheeks, and you quickly avert your gaze, missing the subtle, self-satisfied smile that graces Azriel's lips.
The sudden intrusion of Nesta breaks the spell, her figure leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, an amused twinkle in her gaze. While you were oblivious to Azriel's reaction, Nesta, caught the soft smile he allowed himself.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Both of you turn your heads to find Nesta. There’s a smirk on her face as her eyes flicker between you and Azriel.
“Uh, no. Not at all,” you stammer, attempting to mask your embarrassment. “Just a little injury, that’s all.”
“Nothing to worry yourself over, Nesta,” Azriel chimes in, lowering his gaze to secure the bandage wrapped around your hand. “All done.”
“Thanks, Azriel.”
Azriel rises to his feet, and the shadows that dance around his shoulders seem to buzz with excitement over the soft way you had said his name. He pats your thigh, suppressing his smile as he stands.
Nesta's smirk transforms into a sly grin, her keen eyes not missing the way Azriel keeps his gaze averted from you to save you from further embarrassment. It doesn’t matter, anyway. His shadows are happy to inform him of the mortified look you send Nesta’s way followed by the way you silently mouth “stop” at her. 
"Well, that’s great news,” Nesta replies, grasping your uninjured hand and pulling you to your feet. “Thank you for taking care of her, Az. Now, if you don’t mind, y/n here is late to girl’s night.”
As Nesta ushers you out, Azriel watches with a mixture of amusement and warmth in his hazel eyes. Unbeknownst to you, the unexpected emotions that had taken residence in your heart were mirrored in Azriel’s.
**
Under the soft glow of fairy lights, you sit cross-legged on the plush rug, facing Nesta while Emerie and Gwyn sit on either side of you. An array of snacks, provided by the sentient house, sits in the middle of the circle you and your friends formed. And of course, it wouldn’t be a girl’s night without the age-old game of truth or dare.
“Your turn,” Emerie grins at you, exchanging a knowing look with the other two females. “Truth or dare?”
Given the mischievous glint in Nesta’s eyes, it was an obvious choice for you. Truth would be the safer option. Emerie’s grin falters, disappointed by your choice.
However, Gwyn sees an opportunity. She wraps her blanket tighter around herself, shifting in her spot eagerly. She leans forward to grab a chocolate covered strawberry before nonchalantly asking: “Do you like Azriel?”
Nesta scoffs, throwing her hands in the air. “Oh, come on. Like we even have to ask.”
“True,” Gwyn giggles. “But I want to hear her say it.”
Heat rises to your cheeks for the third time tonight, creating a persistent warmth that makes you wonder if you might give yourself a fever. Your friends collectively hold their breaths in anticipation. Nesta’s gaze remains fixed on you, unwavering.
“Yes.”
The room erupts into squeals and teasing remarks, and your eyes widen, urging them to hush, terrified that Azriel, who is upstairs, might hear. It’s a futile attempt as their cheers only grow louder, making you bury your face in her hands.
“He likes you too.”
Your peak out from beneath your fingers. “What makes you say that?”
Nesta laughs in response but Emerie and Gywn are quick to tease you even further.  Gywn assumes the role of Azriel while Emerie assumes the role of you as they exchange glances and lingering touches. The two females jump to their feet and wooden swords appear in front of them. You look up with a glare directed at the sentient house.
With a swift flick of her wrist, Gwyn uses her wooden sword to knock Emerie’s out of her hand. “Again,” Gwyn nearly growls as she tries to mimic Azriel’s deep voice.
“I can’t,” Emerie replies, feigning shyness.
“I don’t sound like that!” You cry out in disbelief, turning to Nesta. “I don’t sound like that, right?”
Nesta shrugs her shoulders, eyes sparkling with mirth at the scene before her. Emerie and Gwyn ignore your protests, continuing to pretend to be you and Azriel.
“Oh, Azriel, my love,” Emerie swoons, the back of her hand flying to her forehead while her other hand hangs in the air. “I think I sprained my wrist.”
Gwyn gasps dramatically, diving in to catch Emerie before she could fall back against the fortress of pillows behind her. “No, not my sweet y/n, who I’m absolutely smitten with” Gwyn coos, bringing Emerie’s “injured” hand to her lips and kissing it.
Then, Gwyn and Emerie absolutely lose it, the two females falling onto the fortress of pillows as laughter consumes them, unfazed by the glare you’re now directing to them. Nesta stifles her own laughter, turning her attention back to you.
“He definitely likes you,” she repeats, her words awakening the butterflies in your stomach. You wonder if she can hear them fluttering too. “But he won’t make the first move. You’re going to have to do it yourself.”
“Absolutely not!”
 Nesta grins at you. “We’ll see about that.”
“Whatever,” you huff out. “It’s your turn now. Truth or dare?”
The night wears on, filled with more laughter, more shared secrets, and the occasional embarrassing dare. You got your friends back by daring them to have multiple spoonfuls of ice cream and tomato sauce. The house keeps you well supplied with snacks and your glasses of wine never go empty.
When it’s your turn again, you hesitate for a moment. You had thought “truth” had been the safer option but now, you know there is no safe option.
This time, you decide to be brave.
“Dare.”
"Fucking finally," Emerie grins, looking at Nesta while Gwyn smiles at you. Their plan is unfolding seamlessly...
“We dare you to kiss Azriel tomorrow after training.”
Your eyes widen in panic. “What? No way!”
Nesta, seemingly unfazed, inspects her nails with feigned boredom. "Coward," she mutters under her breath.
Her words, though hushed, ignite something deep within you. Your Illyrian blood stirs, the challenge resonating in your veins. Your eyes narrow, fixing on Nesta. "What did you say?"
Nesta meets your gaze as she repeats herself. Louder, this time. “Coward.”
The room falls into a hushed silence as your friends await your response. You bite your lip, contemplating the audacious dare. It was not in your nature to back down from a challenge.
After what felt like an eternity, you let out a deep exhale.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
**
You didn’t sleep at all last night but as Azriel circles around you, his eyes holding a glint of challenge, you are wide awake. Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta watch from the benches facing the sparring grounds while Cassian watches from a closer distance, keenly assessing your every move. Too caught up in your feelings over Azriel, you had failed to realize that this morning’s training session was an evaluation of the skills you had been working on over the past couple of months.
To say you're nervous was an understatement because not only did you have to prove yourself as the aspiring Valkyrie you’d like to become, you also had to prove to Nesta that you were not a coward. Taking a deep breath, your grip tightens on your sword.
Azriel, with his wings casting shadows on the ground, moves with grace. Each movement is precise and deliberate as your swords meet in a flurry of strikes, the sound of steel ringing in the air. Though you struggle, you do your best to keep up and hold your ground, determination burning bright.
Sweat begins to cling to your skin and your envious of the way Azriel hasn’t even broken a sweat himself. With every strike of his and every parry of yours, he continues to push you, his strikes growing harsher and stronger. You literally blink and in that swift second, Azriel knocks your sword out of your grip. A hiss escapes you and you swear your hear Gwyn and Emerie snicker from the sidelines as they find this situation all too familiar.
With a sweep of his leg, you lose your balance and find yourself falling onto one of the training mats. Azriel’s lips twitch upwards as he points his sword toward you. “Do you yield?”
You are weaponless and at his mercy but your stubbornness continues to burn bright. “No.”
In a sudden burst of energy, you land a kick on him, knocking his sword out of his grip just as he did to yours. The bold move leaves him momentarily stunned, his shadows coiling back in surprise. You take full advantage of his distraction, hooking your other leg behind his knees and bringing him down to the mat with you.
Azriel can only blink up at you as you straddle him, eyes widening when he feels a dagger–his dagger–pressed against his throat. How did you–
He’s unable to finish his thought as you shift above him and swallows thickly at the sensation of your body on top of his. The way your breathing is shallow and uneven and the way he can feel the warmth radiating off your body–
“You will.”
Your words have his attention drifting back to you. A radiant smile breaks across your face and his own lips curl upwards, hazel eyes softening as they stare into yours. “I yield,” he murmurs, ever so quietly, you wonder if you imagined it.
Your gaze drifts down to his lips and then back to his eyes. He does the same. And then the next moment, you’re kissing him. Softly and hesitantly, at first, but when Azriel responds, your heart fills with warmth. Your lips move against his with eager urgency.
Truthteller falls from your grasp and you bring your hand to grasp at the back of his neck instead, pulling him even closer. His hands find their place at your waist to keep you in place but then screams and squeals are piercing through the air. You’re immediately pulling away and jumping to your feet, absolutely flustered because in the heat of the moment, you had forgotten all about the audience you had.
You glance down at Azriel, desperately seeking a sign, but his expression is a mix of surprise and confusion. He looks nearly petrified. Your heart races and you begin to wonder if perhaps, you are a coward because all you want to do is run.
Your hand flies to your mouth. Doubts claw at the edges of your courage. What if Nesta was wrong? What if Azriel didn't like you? And you've just made a fool of yourself in front of him–your teacher– and your friends. 
Turning around, your eyes meet with the delightfully entertained audience. Gwyn and Emerie, caught up in the drama, cling to each other with excitement and unrestrained giggles. Nesta stands with the same smirk she gave you the night before though there’s a flicker of surprise in her blue-grey eyes. She hadn't expected you to follow through with the dare.
Meanwhile, Cassian’s gaze is fixed on the body behind you and he throws his head back in laughter. Ignoring the whispers and amused glances from those around you, you hastily make your exit, blind to the way you left Azriel a blushing fool.
Cassian approaches his friend, who remains rooted to his spot on the floor. Azriel is still processing the whirlwind of emotions you've stirred within him. There’s a teasing grin on Cassian’s lips. “Are you okay there, Az? You look a little–”
Azriel snaps out of the trance you've cast upon him to glare up at his friend. “Fuck off.”
He then jumps to his feet, dusting himself off and ignoring the curious glances of the females nearby. Determination fills his eyes as his head turns toward the direction you ran off to. He fears you have misinterpreted his initial shock and he can’t let this moment slip away. 
He needs to feel your soft lips against his again and more importantly, he needs to tell you that he feels the same way.
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a/n: Hope you all enjoyed this one! Cas's version is already up!
tagging: @hellodarling1357, @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies
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slytherinslut0 · 5 months
Note
hey can you please do tom x hufflepuff reader hcs??
Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader headcanons.
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(A/N: idk how this ended up being so long. i got carried away. i love tom. i love his complexity. i could write about him forever. anyways, enjoy:))
tom riddle and a hufflepuff reader would be damn near polar opposites, and there are a few reasons why i say this->
tom is a very reserved man, yet undoubtedly driven by an ambitious and power-hungry nature, always seeking dominance and control in every aspect of his life.
hufflepuffs, on the other hand, are known for their kindness, their loyalty, prioritizing the well-being of others over personal ambition.
tom riddle is the type of man who is not afraid to deceive others for personal gain, while hufflepuffs value fairness and honesty in each of their interactions.
not to mention how tom is emotionally restrained, rarely displaying vulnerability or empathy, while hufflepuffs are known for being emotionally open and expressing genuine care/understanding for others.
i believe tom would be rather annoyed by hufflepuffs, perhaps even put off by their loud, outgoing nature, but i also feel as though he would respect them more than other houses because they are known for being more by-the-book.
i believe this pairing would be WONDERFUL for him, and i’d imagine it’d go a little like this->
perhaps you and tom would be involuntarily paired up for an assignment, an unlikely collaboration that tom figured would be an easy mark for him.
originally, he’d find himself irritated by your constant cheerful and optimistic nature; finding it rather absurd that you weren’t at all fazed by his cold, cunning attitude.
there’d definitely be initial clashes between the two of you, disagreements of methods, but tom would find himself stunned as you met every one of his suggestions with a positive, passionate attitude, not daring to get discouraged or frustrated with him.
your unwavering optimism would be shocking to him. especially in the face of his calculated cynicism. it’d be then, that tom would be astonished by your dedication and genuine passion for learning, a rare quality to obtain.
his initial cold, guarded demeanour would slowly begin to fade.
tom would find himself beginning to pay more attention to you, his curiosity extending to outside the confines of the classroom.
he’d begin to wonder if your genuine kindness is truly authentic or merely a manipulation tactic, leading him to question the sincerity of your character.
which he’d only question because that’s the way his mind works.
he’d never known someone so open and genuine like you. he’d convince himself you had ulterior motives.
however, tom would quickly observe that your authenticity extended universally, and was not just directed at him.
your small acts of kindness and interactions with strangers became evident, and he’d witness your unwavering positivity even in the most challenging situations.
he’d notice how thoughtful you are, how you’d spend your free time maintaining the Owlery, ensuring it’s well-kept and sanitary.
he’d watch you from a distance as you continually brought the owls food and water, giving them attention and love which was something you did upon your own accord, without expecting any compensation.
it became clear to him that you did these things because you genuinely loved to do them, not because you wanted praise for it. and at this, tom was completely taken aback.
your radiant smile, capable of lighting up any room, would become a revelation to him, leaving him puzzled about how he initially overlooked this aspect of your character for all those years.
it’d be here that inner turmoil would begin to brew within tom as he’d have no choice but to acknowledge your ability to see the good within everything and everyone, and especially within him. something not many people are capable of.
as time passed, you couldn't help but notice a gradual softening in him.
during your collaborative sessions on the assignment, he became more receptive to your ideas, actively seeking your thoughts.
surprisingly, he started engaging in conversations beyond the project, asking about your day and exhibiting small changes in his demeanour that were entirely new to you.
tom was breaking, his walls slowly being chipped away by your infectious smile and enthusiasm.
the unexplainable shift in his perspective both intrigued and unsettled him, as you became the catalyst for awakening emotions he never believed he could feel.
he’d try to fight back, he’d try to get himself together, but it was useless. you were in his head, and there was no getting you out.
however, given the fact that tom struggles with showing even the smallest amounts of vulnerability, he’d try to be as subtle as possible with his interest in you. hoping that you’d eventually catch on.
perhaps he’d begin with small gestures, like gifting you a book on rare and beautiful magical creatures, saying that he noticed it in the library and thought of you, believing you might like it.
it would not go unnoticed by you just how considerate this was, and just how much he’d begun to take awareness of your interests.
you found yourself engrossed in the book, a sight that never failed to bring a subtle smile to tom’s face whenever he spotted you across the hall.
observing you immersed in the pages made him quietly content, often requiring a conscious effort on his part to break himself free from the captivation.
his brain would be screaming, “what the hell am i doing?” but he wouldn’t be able to deny just how much he loved seeing you enthralled by the gift.
the feeling was intoxicating, and wholly unfamiliar; he needed more. he needed to do more.
perhaps the next move he’d make would be to gift you a rare enchanted plant, after having noted your love for herbology.
he’d present the plant to you in a subtle way, saying that he’d found it while taking a stroll through the forest and thought you’d like it.
he’d go into details about its properties, its rarity and how to effectively take care of it, even though he knew you already knew all of this.
he knew you absolutely loved the fact that he cared for these plants just as much as you did. this was all part of his plan.
and of course, at this point, you’d have the hunch that he was into you; but being as perceptive and intuitive as you are, you’d know that pestering tom or trying to force him to admit feelings would be useless.
the man moves at his own pace.
so instead, you’d invite him to join you as you cleaned the Owlery, wanting to spend more time with him. the two of you would gradually become closer and closer, tom’s harsh demeanour fading away with the wind with each passing day.
and even still, tom hardly made any advances. tom hardly wanted to put himself in a vulnerable position. he wanted to be sure you wanted him before he ever revealed his intentions.
if he was touchy with you, he’d never insinuate it was because he’s into you. he’d kiss you on the cheek after walking you back to your dorm for the night, and then act like nothing ever happened in the morning.
and this might have annoyed some, but not you.
you understood that this is how tom was, and you admired him for it. you were entirely understanding. you wanted him to open up on his own terms, and you were willing to wait for him.
eventually, tom knew he couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. he knew he needed to make you his. he knew he’d do fucking anything.
and this feeling would only multiply as he spotted you across the courtyard, speaking to a boy from your house.
your smile was glowing, your laugh was radiating, and the feeling this sight inspired inside tom’s heart could have been enough to ignite the entire castle into pure fucking flame.
whatever he was doing at this moment didn’t matter anymore, he only had one objective in mind.
making you his.
without waiting for you to finish your conversation, he’d interrupt, stating he needed to speak to you.
you’d smile, sensing his urgency, and follow him over to the far side of the courtyard, looking out at the breathtaking view of the faraway valleys and mountains.
as soon as tom was content with your seclusion, he’d cup the back of your head and crash his lips to yours, kissing you with enough fervour to make up for all the days and weeks and months he’d wished he’d have made a proper move.
pulling back, he’d meet your eyes. “i need you to be mine,” he’d whisper, as though the words scared him. “you’ve made me feel things i’ve never known possible, you’ve broken me down without effort. you are the most beautiful, genuine woman i’ve ever met, and i have been falling in love with you for months…i can’t hide it anymore, i need you…”
the words would be music to your ears, the joy unfathomable.
of course, you’d be his.
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shockercoco · 2 months
Text
Consequences
Austin butler x reader
Warnings - 18+, smut, riding, P in V, overstimulation, dirty talk, jealous!Austin
Word count - 2925 (I didn't intend for this to be 3k words lol)
a/n - request: “Hi! Please can you write an Austin butler x fem reader smut where he's jealous after watching her film a sex scene and he shows her how it's done? Maybe he's a bit cocky as well because he knows that only he can make her moan?” - loved this ty, I hope you enjoy :)
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“They need everyone back on set in ten minutes,” you hear your assistant tell you from outside of your trailer door, interrupting your inner turmoil.
“Okay,” you tell her, and you hear her walk away as you go back to your thoughts.
You had been pacing back and forth inside your trailer for the majority of your lunch break thinking about your upcoming scene. It was a sexual scene that included you having to be practically naked in a bed with your male co-star.
When you had accepted the role you knew what it entailed, but back then the intimacy part of the script seemed so minor, and you had brushed past it. Given the fact that this wouldn’t be your first time shooting this type of scene, you really shouldn’t be stressing out. During those past roles, though, you hadn’t been dating Austin so it was simple and wasn’t awkward. It’s also not like Austin would have a problem with you doing this either because he trusts you – after all intimate scenes are a big part of the movie industry.
The intimacy coordinator had talked to both you and your co-star Matthew separately to inform you guys on what was expected. You also knew you could always say no, and you would probably be replaced with a body double, but that didn’t do anything to calm your nerves.
Figuring enough time had passed, you exited your trailer and headed back to set where the makeshift bedroom was already set. You saw Matthew in a robe matching yours standing off to the side getting some final touch-ups from one of the makeup artists. He gives you a small smile when he notices  you walking in before turning his attention back to the woman in front of him.
You and Matthew had grown close over the past couple of months, which isn’t unusual because you were both the lead actors, and he seemed like a nice person –at least from what you’ve gotten to see. Austin would always tell you Matthew was too nice to you each time he visited you on set, but you never saw it and would tell him that you would be okay. Austin is a persistent man and didn’t deter from his theory, therefore, he would always eye Matthew and keep you in eyesight. You would just silently laugh to yourself when you saw Austin behind the camera eyeing Matthew.
“Matthew’s my friend so this shouldn’t be too awkward. This will all be over before I know –,” you think to yourself, but your thoughts are interrupted when someone taps you on the shoulder from behind. You turn around to see Austin there smiling at you.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” you smile back at him as he brings you in for a hug with a quick kiss on your cheek.
“It was a last minute decision. I had to attend a meeting not too far from here, so I thought I’d stop by. I hope that’s okay,” Austin tells you as you lean back to look up at him.
“Of course it is, I was just surprised.”
“What scene are you filming?” he asks you as you two pull away. That’s when he notices the bed sitting in the middle of the room and your robe. “Oh.”
You cringe a little. “It’s just a quick sex scene, you know how it is. It’ll be over before you know it,” you try to reassure him as his eyes find Matthew.
“Yeah, but it’s with him,” he makes a face.
“I don’t get to choose my co-star, Austin. There’s only a couple more weeks of filming, and then we don’t have to see him again until the movie premiere,” you grab onto his arm for him to look at you. He finally tears his eyes away from your co-star to look at you again. He rolls his eyes, not at you, and gives you a nod.
Your assistant comes up to you to tell you that the director is ready to start the scene. You give Austin one last look before going with her and walking into the fake bedroom, Matthew joining you. Crew members start moving around to make sure everything is ready to go, and the assistant director comes over to put you and Matthew into position, followed by the intimacy coordinator. 
You take off your robe underneath the covers, not wanting to reveal yourself too much. Nipple stickers cover the top of you while a skin-colored pad is attached to your lower half. Matthew also has something to cover his manhood.
Once everything is in order, the crew members start filing behind the camera. Austin is also behind the camera standing to the side with his arms folded and jaw tense.
“You okay?” Matthew whispers next to you, and you give him a quick nod. He’s currently laying on his side looking down at you. “I see your boyfriend came to cheer you on.”
You’re not sure how to respond so you just smile at him.
“Just imagine me as shrek or something,” he jokes, making you laugh in response.
“I was planning on it.”
When the lights dim and the director yells action, Matthew doesn’t hesitate to lean down to kiss you, putting his hands on your waist. Austin watches everything from his place behind the camera.
Safe to say Austin wasn’t a fan of the whole process. Austin watched everything from his spot behind the camera – the way Matthew touched and held you, and the sounds falling out of your mouth as you held onto him. There was also more than one take, which made Austin even more agitated and tense. He couldn’t help but wonder if Matthew was getting turned on or if he was messing up on purpose. 
Both you and Austin were relieved when the director called it a day, and luckily that was the only intimate scene that had to be filmed. When you got up from the bed and put on your robe, with the help of your assistant, you saw the look on Austin’s face. You thought it was best to avoid eye contact.
The car ride back to Austin’s house didn’t involve much talking, and when you finally entered the house he was still silent. You decided to take a shower, to wash the day off and to give Austin time to cool down. Seeing that the sun is long gone, you prepare for bed — filming took longer than expected. As you walk out of the bathroom connected to the room you shared with Austin, you notice him already in bed on his phone, appearing to have already showered.
He probably used one of the guest room bathrooms, which isn’t uncommon of him, but given the situation you just find it extremely petty. You can’t help but laugh at Austin’s attitude, but then again you wouldn’t be too happy either watching him have pretend sex with another girl, which is why you try to avoid joining him on set during those days. 
As you climb into bed next to him, he doesn’t even glance at you as he continues to check his emails. You sigh dramitically, hoping to get his attention, as you look at the clock on the nightstand displaying eleven o’clock. Still nothing.
“Austin,” you say, trying to get him to look at you, but he just gives you a hum in response. You call his name again and he just raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something else.
“Are you really going to be upset all night?” You ask him.
“I’m not upset.”
“Are you sure because I’m pretty sure this is what upset looks like,” you point at his solemn face.
He looks over at you pointing at him, still with a plain face, before looking back down at his phone. You roll your eyes at his pettiness as an idea pops in your idea. 
“Is there anything I can do to make it better, at least?” You ask sweetly, even though none of this is your fault, hoping that a little pillow talk will help him get over this. A mischievous smirk grows on his lips before he finally tears his attention away from his phone, placing it aside to look you in your eyes.
“You know, there actually is something you could do,” he says, making you want to rescind your offer at his eagerness.
“What is it?” you ask, already knowing the answer.
He motions for you to sit on his lap by patting his thigh, but doesn’t wait for you to say anything as he grabs your hips to pull you onto his lap to straddle him. He forces your hips down against him causing you to hold back a moan, your thin panties allowing you to feel him grow hard through his sweatpants. Keeping his grip on your hips firm, he then begins rocking your hips back and forth, forcing you to grind down. You place your hands on his chest before gripping the fabric of his t-shirt as your eyes begin to flutter.
“You know what, maybe I am upset,” he leans to whisper into your ear. A shiver runs through your body from the feeling as he continues, “I’m upset that I stood there and watched the way your co-star enjoyed fake fucking you, and after all this time you still don’t see the way he looks at you.”
“He’s acting, Austin, that’s what his role entails.”
Austin pulls away from your ear and looks you in the eye to say,” So he’s still acting even when the director calls cut?”
“He’s just a friend, I promise,” you whine out as you begin to feel arousal pool out of you and form a spot on your panties. Your answer doesn’t bring Austin any comfort. 
“This is exactly what i’m talking about, you don’t see it,” he shakes his head at you and removes his hands from you. “Lift up.”
Confused, you listen and lift your hips to hover above his lap, only for Austin to shimmy his sweatpants down his legs enough for his underwear to be revealed and to pull his hard length out. He then takes the lead and pulls your underwear to the side, grabs himself in one hand, pulls you down a little, and begins to rub himself against your slit. You both groan at the feeling – him at your wetness, and you at his teasing with your knees already growing weak.
“You’re going to take a seat and ride until I’ve had enough,” he tells you, knowing well enough that you weren’t a huge fan of riding. 
You didn’t enjoy taking control, and you would always get tired too quickly, which encouraged Austin to take matters into his own hands and thrust into you until you were overstimulated — not that you didn’t enjoy all of that, you just rather be on the bottom.
You nod before lowering yourself onto him until you’re completely full, taking a moment to take in the feeling before beginning to move. Austin tilts his head up with a sigh, his lips slightly parted at the feeling of your warm, rigid walls swallowing and releasing him repeatedly.
Your hands are on his shoulders now, gripping tightly, using him to help stabilize you. Keeping his grip on your hips firm, Austin looks down at the space between you two, watching as his length continues to disappear and reappear. Your eyes join his gaze and whimper at the sight. 
As expected you feel your legs quickly growing tired, so you lean forward to hide your face in Austin’s neck, using him to place some of your weight on.
“Oh, no. I want you to look at me,” he tells you.
“Austin,” you whine as you move your head away from him. One of the hands on your hips moves to your jaw, forcing your eyes onto his blue ones. His stare sends a wave of warmth to your center, his unpleasant mood turning you on, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem earlier when you had Matthew grinding on you,” he states. He drags his thumb across your lip, tugging it down before releasing it. 
“You know it’s not like that,” you tell him breathlessly as you shake your head. He continues staring into your eyes without responding to you.
Austin finally breaks that contact when he goes to take off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. He leans down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue around your nipple, and eventually moving to the other. He brings his hands up to your back, bringing you closer to him. This just sends another wave of pleasure through your body, making it harder to keep your rhythm strong. 
You whimper as you look down at him getting lost in his own world, and that’s just enough to make you tumble over the edge. You squeeze his shoulders and let out a cry as a strong rush of pleasure flows through your body and down to your cunt. With his mouth still connected to your breast, Austin can’t help but moan at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, causing a shiver to run through your body. He smirks to himself as he watches you fall apart above him.
He doesn’t let you or himself recover, though, as he flips you onto your back. He pulls his sweatpants, and underwear the rest of the way down his legs before pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it. He then proceeds to rip your thin panties and toss them aside, too impatient and needy to take them off the correct way. He goes to hover you and quickly sinks into you with a moan before pounding into you with intensity, trying to chase his own high. 
Still sensitive and not completely over your previous orgasm, your next one comes almost instantly at Austin’s rapid pace. This one is definitely more intense and as you open your mouth to let something out, you’re met with silence, leaving your mouth hanging open and your eyes closed as you toss your head back and release around him a second time. 
Feeling your walls close around him once again, Austin cums with a deep moan as his head dips down. He never stops thrusting into you, just slows down, as you feel his warm load shoot into you. This prolongs your high and brings you into overstimulation as your back arches, and you finally find your voice to let out a sob as your body continues to quiver and shake. Just when you think he’s going to stop, Austin speeds back up into you, making you place your hands on his waist to grip down.
“Please,” you whimper, wanting to tell him to stop with the continuous torture, but you’re enjoying it too much. He just laughs above you.
“What’s wrong, huh? Too much?” he teasingly asks, but you don’t have the energy to answer. He looks down at the spot you two are connected to see the remains of your orgasm pooling out and onto the sheets below. He watches as your flow of arousal coats him as he continues to plunge into you.
“It can’t be too much, I mean you seem to be loving it too much,” he removes your hands from his body and holds them in his hands as he leans down onto his elbows. You're caged in as he pins your arms to your side. Austin rubs his nose against yours to bring you back to reality, watching as your eyes find his.
“Austin, baby,” you breathe out.
“Austin, baby what?” he asks with a tilt of his head, knowing he has you right where he wants you. He leans down a little to spit into your already parted mouth.
You don’t respond, you can’t respond as you continue taking him in. Your body is on fire, and you can feel your walls constantly clenching down around him.
“You don’t want me to stop, right? I mean there’s no way,” he smiles. “It seems like she doesn’t want me to stop either,” he says referring to your cunt releasing a squelching sound with each thrust from how soaked it is. 
What comes out of your mouth next is nothing but a blabbering mess as you give into him, feeling drool – or his saliva – coming out the side of your mouth. You feel more of your wetness run out of you at his dirty talk, before feeling yourself unexpectedly cumming again. You release for the third time with a shriek as you dig your nails into his hands.
When Austin feels himself coming to his second orgasm, he quickly pulls out before jerking himself off the rest of the way. He shoots his sticky load onto your stomach, marking you as his. You feel yourself clench around nothing, your cunt so used to him diving into it.
Austin uses his finger to swipe some of his remains up from your stomach, and then places his finger on your lips, wanting you to open. You bring him into your mouth before tasting and sucking his finger while looking him in his eyes.
“You better stop before we go again,” he looks down at you, already feeling himself growing hard.
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sunderwight · 4 months
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Crack SVSSS Mpreg AU where when Shen Yuan transmigrates in, the system impregnates him with the displaced soul of the original Shen Qingqiu.
For the purposes of this AU, we'll say that male pregnancies or trans men being pregnant in the PIDW universe are uncommon but not especially noteworthy concepts.
So now not only does he have to deal with recovering from his qi deviation and of course being pressed into the role of the scum villain from the novel he was just reading, he's also mysteriously knocked up, can't explain it, and doesn't even know for sure if the baby will recollect being Shen Jiu when its born -- and of course hate him for stealing the Shen Qingqiu life.
What's more, Shen Yuan can't bring himself to get rid of it, because he does have mixed feelings about stealing Shen Jiu's life as well. Even though he knows it's probably the best tactical move, and he doesn't even like Shen Jiu, and the system has said there wouldn't be any penalties because it wouldn't impact the major important plot milestones, he opts to just... keep it. And not think too hard about it.
Luckily(?) cultivators have a lot of control over their bodies, which means a pregnancy can last however long they want it to, so Shen Yuan doesn't have to worry about giving birth in a hurry. SJ seems fine in utero, stalling his development doesn't have adverse effects, so Shen Yuan just swears Mu Qingfang to secrecy and figures out how to keep his pregnancy at the early stages for as long as possible while he hashes everything else out. So apart from internal freak-outs, most of the early plot proceeds as usual.
Unluckily(?), this state of affairs changes when Shen Qingqiu gets infected with Without-a-Cure, as that makes it so that putting off the inevitable is no longer a viable course of action. He can't spare the extra energy and doesn't have the stability of cultivation required to mess around with his pregnancy anymore, so things have to proceed at a more normal rate.
Which means the other peak lords and the disciples on Qing Jing find out that Shen Qingqiu has been harboring a secret pregnancy for an undetermined length of time. Shen Yuan has to bite the bullet and use the amnesia excuse to explain his lack of insight to the existence of any other parents (he's surprised it works so well, because he doesn't know that the rest of the sect has already figured out he doesn't remember some things after his fever), which inspires a lot of behind-the-scenes chaos because everyone has ALSO figured out that Shen Qingqiu's amnesia seems to pertain to things that must have traumatized him in the past.
So if he's pregnant, and he lost his memories of how he got that way...
Well. Cang Qiong is now on the hunt for an attacker who might already be dead and doesn't actually exist.
But everyone agrees that Shen Qingqiu doesn't need to be troubled by these details, so if he's okay with not remembering, then they're okay with letting him not remember. The only one who tries to bring it up is Liu Qingge, and that's mostly in the context of wanting clues so he can track down the culprit and stab them until they are dead.
Luo Binghe supports the quest to find the persona responsible and violently murder them, but as a disciple he has no resources to actually go on some wild goose chase for a mystery rapist. Besides, he has more important things to do on the peak, like making Shizun's meals, keeping Shizun's house, and preparing to help raise Shizun's baby. Luo Binghe is not going to be the stepdad, he is going to be the dad who stepped up! (Binghe please cool your jets you're like fifteen you're going to give your future shizun whole new inner turmoil about whether it's possible to accidentally babytrap your own teenage disciple via immaculate conception reincarnation pregnancy...)
Anyway eventually baby SJ arrives, and Shen Yuan immediately decides to block all recollections of the childbirth process and never dwell on it again. Something happened, he's no longer going to think about it, oh look a baby! A potentially evil villain baby. With cute widdle toes and tiny fingers and a squished, grumpy baby face that gets all red when he cries...
Yeah. Despite his reservations, there's no way he's not getting attached.
He gets Binghe to help him pick out a name for the baby, partly because he feels terribly presumptuous when he actually knows this kid's real name (but he can hardly call his son "Shen Jiu"), partly to encourage Luo Binghe to have some fondness for the kid so that if he someday hates his old shizun, he might still spare his "son" from his revenge. Even though it's actually SJ's fault. Well, he's a baby now. He probably doesn't even remember anything! He sure does cry a lot! Would the OG villain cry and fuss and settle down only after being sufficiently cuddled?
Turns out, yes. Shen Jiu remembers everything from before his fatal qi deviation. He's just also still an infant. So what can he do but cry? And maybe pee on the beast and that body-stealing creature that has reduced him to this. He spends most of his early infancy waiting for someone to come smother him with a pillow, but the conspirators must want to keep him alive for some reason, because it doesn't happen. Instead he gets looked after and soothed and taken care of in a way he never has been. Also, his stupid baby instincts keep insisting that the creature which stole his body is actually the safest person in the whole world.
It's like a cruel joke. SJ finally gets the childhood he always wanted deep down inside, but the one giving it to him is some kind of monster.
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userlando · 8 months
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unravel me — daniel ricciardo
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daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [2.9k] summary: every day was an adventure with daniel in one way or another and that’s probably why you agreed so easily to wear the godforsaken panties in the first place. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, semi-public sex, edging, reader wears vibrating panties in public. a/n: fic one of smutober and the kink i decided to focus on is orgasm control. i had a lot of fun writing this one so i hope you enjoy it!! x
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It had been something that was supposed to be funny, that would make the both of you giggle whenever you thought back on the moment but now, as you sat there clutching the edge of the table until your fingertips turned bleak, you couldn’t find the humour in it at all.
The dinner had been planned two days earlier, with George sending out an innocent text to the entire grid residing in Monaco, that contained a dinner invitation that Daniel was the first to reply to. You had been a little excited, you couldn’t lie. Between different foreign countries and hotel rooms that were all starting to look the same, you found little to no time to get the gang together for a fun night out.
Daniel was always mindful of how much time he spent on anything that wasn’t you, never wanting to leave you feeling left out or like you were a low priority to him because that was so far from the truth. He took you out, wined and dined you like the perfect cheeky gentleman that he was. He’d have the drinks flowing out, flirt with you and even stretch a leg out to play footsie with you until you were giggling and buzzed, warm all over with an undying need for him to get his hands on you.
Three years together and he still found ways to keep things exciting and entertaining. Every day was an adventure with him in one way or the other and that’s probably why you agreed so easily to wear the godforsaken panties in the first place. He’d found them on an obscure website, grinning from ear to ear when the package got delivered and your interest had been piqued at the regular old cardboard box in his hands as he carried it over to you. Your interest sound turned into mild concern when he revealed its contents, the words vibrating panties staring right up at you a little tauntingly.
“No way.” You’d told him when he arched an inquisitive eyebrow that said so much with so little words.
That no had turned into a yes when he wrapped his arms around you and swayed the both of you back and forth, giving you little kisses until you were squirming out of his grasp because you’d spent way too much time on your makeup for him to ruin it with his ass kissing.
He’d giggled with glee when you slipped the panties on, pressing the ones you’d been wearing into his hands with a grumble. It was the same giggle he was holding back now as he sat across from you at the table. His head was turned, nodding along to whatever Lando was saying but you could tell that his mind was somewhere else, focused on the tiny inconspicuous remote he was most likely fiddling with beneath the table.
You contemplated stretching your foot out to hopefully stab his toes with your stiletto, but knew that there was no way you could do it without drawing attention to yourself.
“Are you okay?” Lily’s voice drifted into your ears, interrupting your inner turmoil.
You glanced at her, finding her eyes watching you too closely that it nearly made you sweat. She knew you well enough to read what was showing on your face, so you made an effort to keep your face neutral and your smile unbothered.
“Yeah, why do you ask?” Your voice was a little too high and you realised that when her eyebrows jumped, clearing your throat roughly.
The hand that was holding a fork moved and she pointed at it toward your hand. You glanced down, letting out a breathless laugh at the way you’d subconsciously gripped the table cloth in an iron grip. You forced yourself to relax, slowly letting it go.
“I just…” You gave her a quick smile. “I’ve got cramps, shit’s killing me.”
Her face softened in understanding, hands letting go of the cutlery to reach for her purse but you quickly stopped her when you realised what she was trying to do. Any other day and you would’ve taken a moment to really think of how much you loved your friend, but your mind was already fuzzy. Like someone had stuffed your head full of cotton.
“It’s okay, I took something before so it’ll pass.” You quickly assured her and Lily eyed you suspiciously with only a little concern.
“If you say so.” She said slowly.
You only managed to relax when her attention was pulled from you to Alex, silently thanking her boyfriend for unknowingly saving you but your relief was short-lived. Your boyfriend was clearly out to get you, making his presence known by flicking a button on the remote and setting the vibrations off in your underwear.
The sharp spike of unexpected pleasure was so jarring that you barely managed to keep the gasp in, hands digging into your thighs to keep yourself grounded from the incessant buzzing between your legs. You glanced up at your boyfriend, finding him staring straight at you with a poorly concealed grin that you had half a mind to slap from his face. Daniel was looking a little too smug and you quickly regretted the glare you shot him because he was quick to retaliate, upping the vibration.
“Ha!” The sharp gasp that escaped you had both Kika and Lily looking this time, and you felt your entire body grow hot in embarrassment.
Never before had you felt as conflicted between mortification and unyielding pleasure.
“You okay?” Kika asked and you opened your mouth but Lily beat you to it.
“She’s got cramps.” She helpfully explained, sounding sympathetic enough for you to feel a little bad for lying to her.
But you couldn’t tell her the truth, you’d rather have the ground open up beneath you and swallow you while.
The entire ordeal was mortifying and you couldn’t do anything but nod wordlessly, silently sending a thanks to your lucky stars that the rest of your friends were so loud and chattery. You didn’t know what you’d do if you had gotten a few more pairs of eyes on you, especially when those eyes belonged to your boyfriend’s friends and colleagues.
“You need anything? I’ve got both pads and tampons.” Kika whispered and the offer was so sweet you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed with her.
After all, it wasn’t her fault. This was Daniel’s work and you wanted him to pay. Especially when he was looking so smug while your entire being was crumbling in on itself in pleasure and mortification.
“Do you need tampons?” Charlotte’s voice joined your hushed conversation and you internally groaned.
Oh God, you’re going to hell.
“No, I’m fine.” You waved the three of them off, grateful for their thoughtfulness but you didn’t need their attention on you.
You glanced at Daniel, shooting him daggers and that seemed to do the trick because the buzzing slowed down, eventually stopping and you relaxed in your chair. You hadn’t realised how wound up tight you’d gotten, inner thighs slick and panties sodden.
The conversation carried on and you didn’t focus, not really. It was hard to when Daniel was sitting across from you, looking as good as he did. It never ceased to amaze you how amazing he always looked, admiring the way his shirt was unbutton at the top and folded so perfectly that it showed off a sliver of his amazing chest. You wanted to bite that spot, mark up his neck to the point where he couldn’t wear anything with a low collar.
Your mind drifted further away the longer you looked, thinking of how you suddenly wanted to go home. How you weren’t up to staying around for dessert when you were absolutely throbbing.
Brown doe eyes glanced your way and your eyebrow twitched, biting back a sudden shy smile when the Aussie man smiled your way. You hurriedly reached for your glass of water, mouth feeling a little dry and really, you should’ve seen it coming. But you gulped too much water and Daniel’s fingers found the remote, switching it on. You were so unprepared that you promptly inhaled the water, sputtering it right out.
“Fuck.” You groaned as Kika slipped the glass from your hand before it slipped from your grasp, letting you cough until your throat was sore and your nose was burning.
“You alright, babe?” The innocent voice of your boyfriend made you squint up at him, coughing into your fist with a shake of the head.
“Wrong hatch.” You meekly explained, as if it wasn’t obvious.
With your throat cleared and your face wiped from water, you belatedly realised that you’d caught the attention of the whole group. They were all watching with different levels of concern and you shakily waved them off.
“It’s fine, I’m just gonna go to the restroom and freshen up.” You pushed your chair out as gently as possible, standing up cautiously because your legs were rattling like you’d run a marathon.
There was no feeling in them as you walked away, distinctly hearing Daniel’s voice dripping with faux concern as he excused himself. Let me just go check on the missus.
You loved when he called you that, and it secretly made you smile as you weaved between the tables and spotted the sign for the restrooms a few metres away, sighing in relief as you pushed the door open and stepped inside. You were feeling feverish, turned on beyond belief and you knew that there was only one person that could relieve that pressure off of you.
It was expected but it still made you jump when the door opened and a familiar figure filled the vast empty space. He looked a little flushed and a whole lot of handsome, grin on his face getting smothered as quickly as it came when you stumbled forward and caught his lips in a bruising kiss.
He answered eagerly, making a small sound against your mouth as he walked the both of you back into the furthest stall, arms wound around you to keep you from falling. You giggled, out of breath and aching when your back hit the swinging door of the stall, stumbling into each other.
The snip of the lock echoed in the quiet room but you paid it no mind as you tasted the fancy wine on your boyfriend’s tongue, feeling drunk off of it and him simultaneously.
“God, fuck—“ You gasped when he pushed you flush against the side of the stall, allowing you to feel his straining cock against your abdomen. You leaned into it, biting him a little too hard on his lip but Daniel only moaned, kissing you harder. “You’re such a fucking asshole. I hate you.”
“Uh huh.” He didn’t sound the least fazed, hands gripping everywhere they could. Your hips and ass ached as he grabbed them in his hold, prying your mouth open so he could lick into it. “Fucking driving me wild.”
“Likewis—“ Your word was lost in a gasp as the buzzing unexpectedly came to life between your legs, doubling over in a depraved moan that you desperately tried to hide by biting his shoulder.
Daniel snorted and you let go of his arm to slap it weakly, making him turn it up a notch. The guttural moan that came out of your mouth made him absolutely ache in his pants, and he pushed his hips into you; feeling the distinct buzz of your underwear.
“Yeah? Gonna come for me, darling?” He whispered and you nodded, breath hitching with every inhale. “Do it, be a good girl for me.”
You could feel yourself climbing, thighs tensing up in anticipation and you were so lost in the oncoming pleasure that you couldn’t focus on anything else. That’s why the sudden hand pressing to your gaping mouth took you by surprise, the buzzing ceasing and taking your orgasm away with it. You made a sound of devastation, frowning hard as you stared up into the face of your boyfriend. His wide eyes should’ve alarmed you, and it took a second to realise why he suddenly looked nervous.
The sound of footsteps against the tile made you pause, subconsciously holding your breath as you listened to the click clack of heels make their way to what you assumed was the sinks. The tap turned on and you stared into wide brown eyes as the two women started speaking in French, sounding a lot like they were gossiping, having unknowingly walked into something that shouldn't have been happening so publicly.
Daniel’s lips slowly turned into a smile, looking like someone had dropped the best gift right into his lap as he slowly realised that this would add to the fun rather than interrupt it. You could see the gears turning in his head as you stared at each other, jutting your hips out to brush against his hard cock.
He bit back a hiss, pushing harder against your mouth with his palm and watching your eyes flutter.
“Quiet.” He mouthed, his other hand reaching into his pocket and you made a pleading, muffled sound when the panties went off once again.
Daniel stared straight at your face, watching the frown of your eyebrows dissipate as pleasure started melting into your expression, eyes rolling as they closed. Your knees buckled a bit, like you couldn’t keep yourself upright and it was only when your hands gripped his arms that he knew you were well and truly on your way to orgasming.
“Yeah?” He whispered, so low that he might as well have been mouthing the words and you nodded, pants coming out harshly through your nose.
He knew you were becoming a little too loud, but he didn’t care as he watched your head drop back, eyelids fluttering shut as your body locked up beneath him. You came with a muffled wail, gripping his arms so tightly that you surely must’ve bruised them.
The roaring in your ears made it hard to hear, too focused on not getting overstimulated as Daniel gradually dialled down the power, until the buzzing finally stopped. You felt him remove his hand from your mouth, only opening your eyes when he’d pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips.
“Welcome back.” He whispered, looking and sounding way too pleased with himself.
You shook your head with a smile, but it dropped just as fast when you thought of the women outside the stall.
“They’re gone.” He said, like he could read your mind and he probably could. Daniel crooked a strand of hair behind your ear, nuzzling his nose against your cheek lovingly before giving you a kiss. “Your noises made them scurry off.”
“Shut up.” You flushed, pushing him off of you as you stood upright. The shake in your legs made Daniel grin, but you chose to ignore it. “God, we’ve been gone for way too long, haven’t we?”
He made a noncommittal noise that sounded a lot like I don’t fucking care, pushing the door open after unlocking it and gesturing out. You took a step before pausing, narrowing your eyes in distrust before reaching down and slipping the panties down your legs.
Daniel made a sound you couldn’t decipher when you stepped out of them, ignoring how wet they were and balling it up in a grimace.
“I don’t trust you to keep that remote untouched.” You said, biting back a smile when he shot you an offended look.
“I’d never do such a thing.” He said, but the grin on his face said an entirely different thing.
You couldn’t help but smile back, stuffing the underwear into his pocket and walking past him to wash your hands.
“So, what’s gonna be our excuse?” He asked, joining you by the sinks and leaning back against the marble.
You briefly considered feigning food poisoning, thinking that maybe it’d would work and you’d be able to slip away. It’d only been two hours but that meant nothing when it came to your friends, knowing that you all liked to stay that extra hour and pound so many drinks that the majority of you stumbled out of the restaurant.
Daniel handed you a paper towel, your mouth open to answer him belatedly but the door opening made you shut it quickly. The elderly woman that stepped inside halted when she caught sight of your boyfriend, frowning deeply as she looked between him and the sign on the door that clearly indicated that it was the ladies’ room.
You bit back an amused giggle, doing your best to look apologetic as Daniel reached for your hand, apologising with laughter in his voice and pulling you along until you both escaped the confines of the restroom.
The both of you couldn’t stop laughing as you made your way back to the table, slipping into your chairs unnoticed because somehow in your absence, the gang had turned even rowdier.
You watched Daniel settle back in his chair across from you, eyes locking onto yours and you hid a smile as one eyelid dropped in a wink. It made your body heat up all over, feeling like a school girl with a crush as you turned your attention somewhere else.
The snort that came from Lily’s mouth sounded way too amused and you glanced at her.
“What?”
“You two are as subtle as a brick through a window.”
You elbowed her. “Shut up.”
Lily hid a laugh behind her hand. “No, no. It’s sweet in a completely gross way.”
You glanced at Daniel, smile impossible to hold back as you watched him throw his head back to bellow out a laugh and it was your favourite sound in the world.
"What can I say? I'm a lucky girl."
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mechaknight-98 · 3 months
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Paragon (NSFW) FT Yeji
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author’s note Yeji is super hot especially in this dress. Been meaning to write her and I think I hit the right notes for this one
I got the call that the villain Light Fury was rampaging through the city. I groaned and suited up. I flew to Downtown
“Oh, Paragon you finally arrive. I was getting worried you wouldn’t show.”
My head was killing me so I responded, “Look light fury it’s barely Tuesday and it’s been a long week so can we hurry up.” I watched as the Villainess hesitated when she locked eyes with me. They held…concern no impossible no girl would interested in me especially not a supervillain as attractive as Light Fury. Huh, that’s a weird thought. I pondered, “Do I have a crush on my Archenemy?”
Lost in thought I didn’t see the giant plasma bolt flying towards me. It knocked me into an abandoned warehouse. It hurt but I was processing several different emotions so I just sat there for a minute.
“Do I like light fury ?” I ask myself.“No impossible I’m a hero. She’s a villain, but she's so smart, industrious, funny and we’re so close.” I say to myself.
“Am I a villain?” I questioned as I had teamed up with light fury numerous times to beat up on the worst of the Villains . Despite her being a supervillain it was quite often our values aligned. Unbeknownst to me light fury was flying to the warehouse as I was having my crisis.
“Like I almost killed my landlord yesterday for price gouging. I was so close to snapping his pencil neck. Although gouging his eyes out would have been more poetic. Listen to me I am one step short from monologing about the evils of the world and I don't feel anything except satisfaction because I keep feeling these unbearably strong violent ideations and antisocial tendencies. Am I just cosplaying hero to satisfy these cravings for violence I’ve been having.” Light Fury overhears me and is immediately taken back at hearing the hero she’s been fighting for the past 2 years having some very villainous thoughts, but she’d be remiss if she didn’t admit she kinda liked it when I flew off the handle. What came to her mind was their team-up where I nearly beat Dr.Cataclysm to death. almost single-handed. She saw the fire alight in his eyes and his heart race when they faced him. The rage and fire she got from me seemed to invigorate her making her powers stronger in the fight. She moved her hand into a skin-tight suit as she began to touch herself as she listened
“Maybe I should just finish the fight with light fury, turn her in, and call it a day, but she looks so hot today that new suit she wears makes her body look so good…what am I saying that’s my arch-villain and I’m drooling over her like I’m in high school again. I need a girlfriend.” I lamented Light Fury began to touch herself more intensely as she listened to my inner turmoil. The thought of corrupting her opposite excited her to no end. “What the fuck is wrong with me today. First, the landlord raised the rent, I almost lost it, and now I am lusting over my Archenemy. Get a grip, Hugo. I know I should go back to therapy…no that didn’t stop the rage I feel though. The only thing that quells that has been doing all the superhero stuff, but I’ve been getting worse.” I lament further
Watching me agonize and ponder my position Yeji stifles a moan escaping from her lips. The bottom of her villain suit and panties are gone as she further gives into her desires. His fingers dive in and out of her starving pussy.
“Hugo” light fury whispers. The first time she’s heard the real name of her nemesis. It excited her, but not in the case of perceived advantage but to be more intimate with the object of desires she has long repressed. Light fury gets a little closer now feeling herself burning up from arousal over my mental crisis and me lusting over her. She was also coming to terms with her loneliness and seeing such a strong and fertile young man who desired her…well her body reacted accordingly. I hear rustling and turn to see Light Fury standing in the corner of the warehouse shadows covering her. I turn to her terrified I ready myself to fight but light fury approaches me calmly her hips sashay with an eerily seductive quality. Seeing her half-naked paralyzed me as my body demands to fuck her but my mind rages against the primal part of me. As always her gaze is intense on approach but not of hatred. I see only one thing in her eyes…desire
“Little hero has been having some less than heroic thoughts about me. It gets me a little excited” She coos as she closes in on me her body pins me to the ground. I stiffen everywhere.
I’m used to being close to her but never with this feeling between us. She wraps her arms around me and brings me into her embrace. “Shush your worries.” She comes close. My resolve is hanging by a thread we both want each other but I… I can’t bring myself to…”Come, little hero.” She whispered in a seductive tone, and the thoughts I had been suppressing broke the floodgates. I rip Light Fury’s mask and my helmet off and devour her in a fervent kiss. The fiery Dragon queen as she was known by many greedily accepted my advances.
I run my hand through her auburn hair as the kiss between us begins to turn more passionate. Light Fury’s claws extended as she tore into my armor leaving me bare before her. She broke our kiss to appraise my body. Her eyes stopped at my crotch.
“Hmm, looks lit “Little hero” isn’t so little.” Light Fury says with a smile. Her hands reach out to my cock and I groan.
“Oh fuck light fury.” I moan light fury smiles maliciously as she strokes me a bit harder. One of my hands ventures down to her folds eager to reciprocate her passion and lust
“Yeji.” Light Fury says
“Huh?”I question
“My name is Yeji.” Light Fury responds
“Fuck Yeji keep going.” I moan as she gets a particularly substantial grip on my cock. Yeji smiles wickedly.
“Beg for it little hero Beg for your archenemy to make you cum.” Yeji says as takes a violent grip on my…no her cock. My body and mind have fully submitted to her whims.
“Please Yeji make me cum.”
Yeji grins madly fawning over the power she holds over me
“You can do better.” She admonishes
“Oh fuck Yeji please let me cum. ride my cock tills it’s spent in your pussy. Fuck me till I can’t even remember my name.” I moan desperate to feel her pussy on my cock. Yeji smirks before mounting me. She moans intensely as I fill her to the brim.
“Little hero isn’t so little.” Yeji coos. I groan as she holds me in place. Her pussy pulsated around my cock attempting to properly adjust to it. She groaned, and then she began to ride me. it started slow at first as we still were feeling each other out pawing at each other and getting to know each other's body. hers was tight and firm but bowed and curved in all the hottest and best places. Yeji smiled as his hands dug into my flesh. "Big Hero likes his Archenemy's pussy." she asks I nod breathlessly. Yeji takes it as a provocation to increase her pace which is par the course for her. Yeji is as unrelenting in riding me as she is in our fights perhaps more so here.
"You know Paragon you saved me before I became Light Fury," Yeji said as she sank further down onto my rod before lifting her tight sexy ass and slamming it back down on my crotch. I groan as she orgasms then and there. I continue to thrust in her extending the endeavor as I question her previous statement.
"Really?" I ask curious about previous encounters.
"Yes When Dr Cataclysm was collecting women for his vile experiment I was one of the subjects. His greatest success and his greatest failure." He called me." My blood boiled at the mention of Dr Cataclysm he had killed one of my closest friends and it took everything in me to let the Hero's association deal with him. He was a monster with no morals or guidance. few villains were as reviled as he was. In my anger, Yeji squealed.
"Oh Hero you're being so rough now. I love it. Did I strike a nerve mentioning the Good Doctor? Don't worry Big Hero. It was not your fault. The association made you stay your hand." Yeji says unknowingly. igniting the fire within me that burned brighter than any star.
"That fucking bastard hid among us like a wolf in sheepskin. He mocked us. and led us on goose chases while he preyed on the vulnerable. I should have ripped his throat out when I had his neck in my hands." I growled as I thrust into Yeji. She smiled seeing the color of my eyes change to the burnt Umber they would get whenever I was truly angry. Yeji was in bliss as I took my anger out on her. I fucked her harder and harder my senses dulling as pleasure and anger washed over me while using her. Yeji's smile was wicked and bright as I continued to thrust in and out of her tight pussy.
"I can feel you twitching harder Hero. Are you about to cum. Do it Cum in my pussy. Do it." Yeji mewled with a needy tone. Her words sent me over the edge as I dumped a load into her wanton pussy. As our bodies calmed down we stared at each other a confusing wave of emotions washed over us as the sexual tension dissipated.
"I can't believe I did that," we said simultaneously as our rationale came back to us. Yeji looked at me with a Vulnerable look.
"I am sorry Paragon. I shouldn't have done that to you," she said remorseful. I dismissed her.
"No, I was a consenting participant." I rebuked "Fuck...Why did you have to be so cute." I lament. Yeji looks at me with a surprised shocked look before blushing.
"Is that affection in your tone?" Yeji questions sternly.
I nod, "Yeah you are stunning, and had the circumstances been different I definitely would have asked you out."
"What's stopping Hugo from Asking Yeji out?" Yeji asks me with an innocent look
"Really? you know what screw it we're already this deep in. Hi Yeji would you like to get coffee sometime?" I ask meekly. Yeji smiles a more wholesome smile and winks at me. "I'd love to Hugo."
"Does tomorrow work?" she asks. I nod. "Great. Give me your phone so we can share numbers. I nod and conjure my phone to my hand.
"Oh, that's so cool," Yeji notes smiling. I smile brightly at her back, and we exchange numbers. I conjure my civilian clothes while she does a Carter twirl and turns back into her nice form-fitting black dress I assumed she was wearing before.
"You're drooling." Yeji teased. I nodded and rebuked
"Yes. Do you see how hot you are? Or is it only on me to tell you?"
Yeji smiles before saying, "Flattery will get you everywhere."
"I hope so because my goodness you are stunning," I reply
Yeji smiles then her face goes stern. "Okay stop it. you're too sweet." I nod and reply
"I am sorry this is just my first relationship...Being a hero and with my actual job. it doesn't leave time for much...Cavorting with others." as I explain Yeji's face softens.
"I never considered that, but yeah you keep your identity secret," Yeji affirms and I nod.
we both walk out of the warehouse. I use my magic to repair it.
"You know I don't know how your powers work?" Yeji asked with innocent curiosity.
"Oh no missy I am not revealing the secret of my powers. What if you're just using me to get to know my weaknesses?"
"Hugo I let you cum in me...Quite a bit I might add I can still feel it sloshing inside of me." Yeji laughs. I laugh with her and reply
"Well, I can't be too careful. We are still enemies after all."
608 notes · View notes
certifiedfreec · 3 months
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・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・
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⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh
⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter
⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)
“Well fuck.”
Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.
One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.
“I call the left side!”
Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-
“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.
Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.
“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.
You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.
“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.
“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.
After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.
Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”
“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.
Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.
“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”
Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?
The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.
“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”
Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.
You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”
The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”
You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”
Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.
“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”
“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.
“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"
“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.
“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.
You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.
His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”
He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.
Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”
Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.
“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.
“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”
Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?
“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.
——————————————————————————————————-
The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-
“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”
Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.
“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.
He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.
“You tired?”
Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.
You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.
“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.
“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.
Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…
No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.
He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.
When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.
“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”
Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.
“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.
You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.
“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.
Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.
Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.
“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.
“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”
“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”
His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”
You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.
Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”
There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.
“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug
“My turn, princess. Coming through!”
The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.
You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.
“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.
You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”
He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.
There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-
“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”
Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?
You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.
“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”
He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-
The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.
“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.
You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.
Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.
“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.
“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.
He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.
In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.
Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.
“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.
“Better?”
You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.
Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.
“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.
“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.
Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.
“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.
Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.
He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.
Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.
“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.
“N-no one else that’s mattered.”
You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.
He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.
You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.
Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.
“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”
“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.
“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”
“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-
“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.
His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.
Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.
He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.
You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.
“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”
When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.
“I’m-so-close….”
He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:
“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”
His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.
You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.
“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.
His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.
Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.
“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.
“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.
He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”
You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.
“So, lemme prove it.”
Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.
“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.
“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.
“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.
That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.
“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.
You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.
The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.
“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”
“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”
In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.
“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”
His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.
Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.
Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.
Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.
“So…you warm enough now?”
Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.
His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.
You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.
“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.
“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”
“Oh, and you’re not?”
“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”
You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”
Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”
His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.
Turns out, Shoko was right about him.
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fumekara · 3 months
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ALL THE THINGS I HAVE DONE (Part 1)
SatoSugu x Gn reader 
Plot: Your relationship with the strongest sorcerers in Japan was falling apart after they yelled at you and broke your heart.
n/a: English is not my first language, there will be a second part of this writing experiment, I am not very satisfied with how it came out. 
Tw: A lot of angst, polyamorous relationship, swearing, mention of the death of one's pet, the reader has a cat, in this version Geto is a sorcerer. If you are sensitive to mourning for your pets, do not interact with this fic. 
WC: 2.2K 
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After parking in the driveway, you sank into the car seat, still gripping the steering wheel with both hands and let yourself go into convulsive, uncontrollable crying. 
For days, you had been stifling the inner turmoil that gripped you, holding back your tears and trying not to think back to Satoru and Suguru's words that had hurt you so deeply, to the fact that your relationship with the two men you loved so much was slowly falling apart…
To the fact that you had just lost your cat.
On the passenger seat lay a cat collar, the same collar that your cat, Nuko, had long held until an hour before and was now without an owner. 
You did not know whether your tears were only and solely due to the cat's disappearance or because Nuko's death was the straw that broke the camel's back. 
He had kept you company for years, you had adopted him in high school when he was still a kitten, you had cared for him by loving him and giving him everything he needed, and you had taken him with you when you moved in with Satoru and Suguru.
You would never see your little friend again, of course you expected this, he was still an old cat and for a couple of days he had been giving clear signals about his health showing that he was not well at all, so you took him to the vet, even though you knew there was little you could do for him. 
The death of your pet is something everyone has to face sooner or later, after all Nuko had lived a long and happy life. 
However, you hoped he would stay with you a little longer, because you had long felt that Nuko was the last one in that house who cared for and needed you. 
And now he’s gone.
You know you made the right choice, the vet had informed you that his condition was too critical, in a few weeks he would have died anyway, but this would have put him out of his misery straight away. Simple and painless, he would feel nothing, he would go in peace. 
And so you did.
You held back tears when you gave the OK for the operation, you held back tears when you removed Nuko's collar from his soft gray fur, you held back tears when you stroked and cuddled him for the last time. 
"Thank you for always being there for me, you have been a great friend," you told him hoping he would understand that he would be loved and remembered even when he was gone. 
You held back tears when you stayed by his side and when the vet told you the operation was successful. 
You held back tears when you filled out the paperwork at the reception desk, you held back tears when you left the veterinary clinic and headed for the car park, and you held back tears as you drove home.
But now the emotions you had repressed were pouring out of you and you couldn't control them, all you could do was cry and think about what would happen when you got out of the car and crossed the threshold of your home. 
You hadn't said anything to Satoru and Suguru, they didn't know anything about what had just happened and you were pretty sure they wouldn't care and wouldn't give you any consolation anyway, you weren't even sure they loved you any more since you'd had that fight.
——————
That day was hard for them. You first noticed that both of them must have had a bad day at work, the small scratches on their faces was evidence and they were also more nervous than usual, Suguru also must have injured himself during the last mission as he was holding his side and struggling to keep his back straight. 
You knew that their work as teachers and wizards exhausted them and often made them return home with a few extra bruises. You always took care of them when they needed it, several times you treated their bruises and cuts when they returned from a particularly demanding mission, often relying on Shoko's advice on how to treat them. 
You received a kiss on the forehead or lips from them as a thank you.
You always offered your boys a shoulder to cry on and all the love you could give them, and they did the same to you. And you wore their love like armor to face the storms of life and work. 
They were at the front door, Satoru had just taken off his shoes, while Suguru had taken off his coat with difficulty and extreme caution, confirming your hypothesis that he had been injured on the mission. 
You greeted them with a smile and walked over to hug them as you always did.
"Not now Y/N," Satoru told you firmly in a colder tone than usual. You turned away from them as you saw them heading towards the kitchen, hearing the white-haired male cursing in a low voice. Suguru made his way behind him as if he had not noticed your presence as he grunted from the pain in his right side. 
You were amazed at their behavior. Normally they would have welcomed you into their arms and told each other how your days went. 'Did something bad happen?' you thought as you joined them in the kitchen. 
Satoru had his back to you with his hands resting on the sink jamb while Suguru sat at the table, both of them seemed to be rather restless. 
"Is everything alright guys?" you asked hoping you could figure out what had made them so nervous.
You heard Satoru sigh heavily "Yes, everything is fine" he said coldly still holding your shoulders. 
You looked at Suguru hoping that at least he could give an answer to your question, but the black-haired man seemed not to be interested in doing so.
You approached your boyfriend's side to see how serious his wound was, you hadn't seen any blood or anything, but you wanted to be sure there was nothing too serious. Between him and Satoru, Suguru was the more patient and calm of the two. You gently brushed one of the long black locks from his face and gave him a small smile. He must not have liked the gesture, however, because he turned away as if you had given him an electric shock. 
You tried to maintain a caring attitude, not wanting to make the situation worse. 
"Are you okay? Are you hurt, dear?" 
"Y/N, please let it go. It's fine," he said, not using his usual sweet and calm tone. 
You didn't like this attitude they were both using with you at all. But you were really worried and did your best to try to be helpful. 
"Let me help you, Sugu', if it's serious I can...". 
"Y/N stop, I told you that you don't have to worry about it!" he interrupted you acidly as he gave you an icy stare, making it clear that he had no interest in talking to you, much less getting treatment from you.
You looked down at the floor and got up from your chair, leaving Suguru alone, but this made your worries increase. 
You approached Satoru who had removed the blindfold from his eyes, but still had his back to you. "Toru... What's going on?" you gently touched his hand, hoping that a small trace of your warmth might give him some comfort, but your gesture was bitterly rejected as he removed his hand from yours. 
"Y/N stop it, I already told you it's OK!" he said, raising the volume of his voice a little too high "For God's sake, stop being so fucking clingy!" 
"I just want to know what's going on" you said, turning to both of them "you know you can tell me about everything".
"Y/N enough!" you heard Suguru as he turned in his chair towards you "we have other things to think about and we don't have time for your bullshit".
Now you felt offended, you knew they weren't really mad at you. They were using you as an excuse to vent their frustrations. But you didn't like being scolded when you just wanted to help. It wasn't the first time this had happened, lately it seemed like they were getting ruder and ruder with you every time something went wrong.  You were starting to get sick of it. 
"Wanna know how it went at work, Y/N?" asked Satoru sarcastically " SHITTY, that's how it went. The meeting with that bunch of assholes from our superiors went horribly and on top of that we got our asses kicked by a special level curse." he paused "And the last thing we need is you asking us to hug you and give you attention. Are you satisfied now?"
"I wasn't looking for attention, I just wanted to he-" 
"Y/N for the last time, piss off!" shouted Suguru at you making you realize it was time to stop. You looked at them both in astonishment, you were sure that the last people who would say such a thing to you were them, your boyfriends. 
Geto noticed your expression and that was enough to soften him "Just...leave us alone now, please." he said in a calmer tone. 
They both looked away from you. 
You put your hands on your hips and looked at the floor with a sad expression " I'm sorry" you said and left the kitchen.
______________
That evening you did not speak to each other, you dined in silence and kept your gaze fixed on your plate so as not to meet their eyes. You didn't know if they were still bothered by you, but the words they had said to you kept coming back to you. About how they thought you were clingy and that your mere presence was enough to make them lose their temper.  
When you finished eating, you decided to wash the dishes in the sink, as Satoru had set the table and Suguru had prepared dinner that night. 
As you were drying the last dish, you realized that your cat's bowl, which was lying on the kitchen floor, was still full from this morning, also the water bowl. You hadn't actually seen Nuko all day. 
You put the dry dish back in the cupboard and went to the living room to see if your cat was there, perhaps lying on the sofa or armchair.
"Nuko?, where are you buddy?" you called him as you walked around the rooms of the house looking behind the curtains, the sofa, the television, but nothing. 
It had happened before that Nuko left the house and returned after a couple of days, but that was when he was still a young and energetic cat, now he was old and spent his days in the house or in the garden.
you looked in the bedroom you shared with the boys and looked under the bed to see if he was hiding there.
"What are you doing Y/N?" 
You looked up even though you knew it was Suguru's voice.
"I can't find Nuko, he hasn't touched food today," you stood up avoiding eye contact with the man in front of you. 
"Have you tried the guest room? He really likes it," he told you, scratching the back of his head and staring at the wall as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. 
The guest room was your bedroom before you moved into Satoru and Suguru's when you made your relationship official. However, Nuko had a habit of taking naps there, as if habits die hard for him. 
You headed toward the room and, not seeing the cat above the sheets, peeked under the bed. Nuko was lying in the shadows and raised his little head after noticing your presence. 
"What's wrong buddy?"
________
Satoru and Suguru knew they had to apologize to you, but they had decided to give you some space after what happened. They did not ask you why you had decided to sleep in the guest room so that you could come and sleep with them, even though they would have liked to do so. 
"We really messed up, Sugu," Gojo murmured, "I feel bad about what happened, we went too far with them, they didn't deserve it."
Suguru also felt guilty about the way things had gone with you, but at the time he had yelled at you he was convinced he had a broken rib and was furious about being reprimanded by his superiors at the meeting. When he had seen you looking for Nuko he had tried to apologize, but could not find the words. 
"Yes me too, tomorrow we will apologize to them properly," he said, turning off the light.
"No shit."
They hoped that the next morning things would settle down. It was not the first time you had argued, but never had they used those words with her in that way. Both men were happy and lucky to have you in their lives and were so grateful for the love the three of you had built together, but they feared they had crossed a zone from which there was no turning back. 
Click here for part 2
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pedge-page · 2 months
Note
Maybe Preggo needs a pedicure? Or help shaving??
how about both!
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Spa Day
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Warnings: thigh fucking, some degrading language, a bit of m masturbation, use of razors to shave, Daddy/Mommy used lightly
18+ ONLY
- - - -
Joel is sitting on the edge of the tub as you prop your calf over his thigh. His heavily pregnant wife has her hair in a turban, green minty mud mask slopped over your face. You’re leaned back so far trying to spread your legs that your chin is just right above the soapy waterline. 
“I told you, you need to get IN the tub to shave my ass.”
Joel’s got your fancy scented shaving cream and a 5 blade razor in one hand, his trousers soaked from suds and bath water as you continue to squirm around trying to get comfortable. This whole ordeal is taking way longer because he doesn’t want to accidecanlly knick you, but you keep moving without forewarning him!
“I don’t understand,” he huff for the third time. “Why do I need to shave your pussy and ass, if you’re getting a PEDICURE?”
Did feet spa evolve into something that he wasn’t aware of?
“You don’t. But I haven’t shaved in a long time and I need my legs shaved for my pedicure. And while I’m at it, might as well do the whole thing.”
“You mean, while I’M at it.”
“Yes exactly!” you say, all giddy that he’s finally getting it now.
He leans back to get a view of where he might be working between your legs.
“It’s all soap. I can’t see a thing.”
You roll your eyes and throw your leg off him. His shirt wrinkles from the soapy fingers that grip it tightly as you pull him down to you. So much so that he’s lurching for the other end of the tub to hold himself from tumbling in.
“Get. In. The. Tub.” You seethe. Why is it so fucking difficult?
He purses his lips, but your eyes don’t back down.
Joel curses under his breath before sitting and stripping his shirt over his head.
You do little hand claps, licking your lips as if you’re getting a tasty treat. Forgetting that this is entirely a different kind of treatment.
 As he shucks off his pants and boxers, now fully naked with his semi hard cock dangling between his legs, you tap your clit and whisper “Settle down, girl,” in hopes of trying to be a good client to your free-worker husband.
Joel clambers in the tub, hissing at the heat of the water. For someone who wants the AC blowing like a winter wonderland in the house, it amazes him that you’re still good with bathing in lava.
He sits his knees up, crammed in such a terribly awkward position since he’s got to get down low. Thankfully the tub is big enough for the two of you to face each other.
“Spread,” he orders you, and you have to clench your fist by your side, easing your nub to stop jumping so excitedly underwater from his voice. You do your best to drape your ankles over the sides of the tub, your lower back comforted by the tub-pillow that Joel had bought you.
The razor glints in his veiny paw. “Daddy has sharp tools in his hand. Are you gonna behave?”
You nod vigorously. 
He aligns himself as close as possible, pushing the bubbles away so he can see under the water. Even with your bump in the way, it’s already difficult to see straight down to the source of your turmoil. His hands gently caress your inner thighs, getting a feel for his working area the same way he does for any detailed project he’s about to take on. Joel got such steady, careful movements when it comes to his craft, but having him look at you like a piece of valuable wood he’s about to carve a beautiful rose into is making you wet in a different way.
He dips the razor below the water and begins to shave away the hair that had been growing between your thighs, over top and around, before making his way to your slit. 
“Isn’t there a better way to do this?” He asks. He’s hesitant, not because he doesn’t think he can do it, but because he doesn’t trust your sporadic brain possibly jumping on him and cutting yourself. 
“Probably,” you snicker. 
He puffs his cheeks but gets back to work, trimming your front neatly in slow movements. If he just focuses entirely on your folds, the slippery traces of your juices evident even through the sudsy water, he can just keep his eyes from drifting up to your bouncing enormous breasts floating happily above.
“Alright, that’s the best I can get. Your ass is just gonna have to…”
You’re already moving like a hippo in the shallows, sloshing the water around as you roll over to your knees and sit up. Your pregnant belly sags heavily towards the water. But you manage to prop your arms over the edge and wiggling your naked butt to him.
He pinches his eyes together with his finger and thumb. THIS is why he didn’t want to get in the tub. Was it over you hurting yourself? A little. Doing reckless shit like this with a baby who could bump its head into the basin? Possibly. 
Having to now sit up to shave your ass, baring his hard cock close enough to you that he won’t be able to keep you placate if you were to turn around?
Yeah.
“C’mon, baby can’t dangle like this all day,” you hum. You sway your hips again enticingly.
You don’t expect the sharp slap to jolt you forward a bit, a gasp falling from your lips as the sound echoes in the bathroom.
You feel his stomach and chest drape over your back, his hot breath steaming over your shoulder. “Told you,” he grumbles. “To behave.” His large hand caress below your bump, helping to hold some of the weight while his other fists his cock and slides its between your thighs.
You bite your lip and moan lightly, eyes closed as he rocks you back and forth on his dick. He doesn’t penetrate, just glides through your thighs, all soapy while his tip nudges your clit each time it punctures through to the other side.
You’re both so wet over each other, warm and dizzy from the steam of the room as he fucks your slit. 
“Just don’t know when to be a good girl.” 
You shake your head. On the contrary, you know EXACTLY when to be a bad girl. 
“Daddy, put it in,” you whine. You can’t take your hands away from the edge of the tub, less you slip and tumble down due to the weight of your baby. 
You feel the rumble of his chest, laughing at your demands. “Bad Mommies don’t get cock up their slutty cunts—“
His voice goes quiet when you arch your back and wail out in pleasure, your clit twitching and thighs quaking with the unmistakable sign of your orgasm washing through you. 
Joel sits back as you heave through your pants. 
“Wow. That was… you needed that, Huh?”
You slowly roll over to you butt safely on the tub floor again, hazily nodding as you come to your senses. You begin to notice Joel’s fist pumping his cock underwater, fully okay with just jerking off as he watches your naked pregnant body covered in soap and dripping wet like a goddess.
“Your turn,” you hum, and Joel grins, parting his legs slightly as you crawl close to him. 
He’s not ready for the super human strength you have when you hoist on of his ankles up in the air, pulling him down until his head dips under water.
 He struggles up and sputters out the nasty taste he inhaled through his nose. “What??”
Joel wipes the soap and water from his eyes and slicks his hair back to see you with a razor in one hand and a deathgrip around his ankle in the other.
“You should shave too. Its just courtesy since they’ll be touching your crusty feet, plus when they put the moisturizer and hot towel and stones on your legs, it won’t get all stuck up in your hair—“
“WHAT are you on about? I’m not getting the pedicure. YOU are!”
But your eyes get all (fake) shiny with (fake) tears, you’re lower lip trembling with a (fake) pout. “You mean,” you hiccup, your voice soft and sad and FUCK if it were anyone else, you’d have them convened with an Oscar worth performance, “you don’t wanna… do it … with me?” 
He’s not falling for it. “That’s Maria’s thing with you.”
Your voice goes straight in a matter of fact tone, foregoing the sad pregnant hormonal voice. “Actually she and Tommy are taking trip up north so she canceled this weekend.”
Joel curses Tommy in his mind for letting such an important detail slip his mind. “Mhm. So I’m her substitute.”
“NooOoo! You’re my husband and you want to do this with me because you love spending time with me!”
Joel narrows his eyes. His cock twitches helplessly between his legs, and it doesn’t seem like you’re inching to give him a hand.
“Now hold still, Mommy has sharp tools in her hands. Wouldn’t want any accidents.”
Your fingers that are wrapped around his foot slowly glaze along his thigh, down below the water, tickling his skin until you’re oh so close to his inner thigh. tensing, he feels your knuckles graze his length.
 And if you behave like a good Daddy, you’ll get your reward.” There’s a sadistic curl to your sweet little grin. 
Joel settles back and closes his eyes as you begin hacking off the forest on his calves. He tries sending a signal to his cock to get comfy, because there’s no way he’s squirming or making any movements while you’ve got a weapon in your hand. He opens one eye to see you happily shaving his legs, splashing water over top so it washes away his clear skin.
He decides he’ll let his little wife play in her sandbox. 
-
“Ow-OW-OWW!” Joel shouts. The technician huffs in frustration as he flicks his feet away from her for the 5th time.
You grip his bicep from the chair next to him. “Joel. Calm down. It’s just—“
“She’s cheese grating my feet!”
He’s squirming like a toddler who doesn’t like the feeling of shit up his ass, were it not for the fact that he’s a grown ass man just getting a pedicure. 
You shake your head. “It’s a pumice stone. To remove your calluses. You got so much dead skin on there, because you never come here when I tell you!”
“It’s a cheese grater, and she’s grating my feet off.”
His feet DID need a lot of work. They were dry, always scratching you in your sleep whenever you cuddle up. His legs did look shiny though, thanks to your hard work hunched over the tub shaving. It was the least you could do for the poor lady trying to tend to his hobbit feet.
When the placed the hot stones on your calves, you sighed happily. Joel’s eyes were wide, and when they touched his shins, he screamed.
You giggled under your hand. Yeah, he’s making an embarrassment of himself, shouting and cursing and squirming everywhere because he’s so sensitive. He probably thinks the rest of the women in here are laughing at him and his fragile manhood, his pregnant wife dragging him here to get a pedicure. But you see the looks on their faces, it’s a mix of awe and jealousy to have such a hunk of a man want to do something fun with his wife, so secure in his masculinity. You grab his hand and kiss his knuckles.
He offers you his gritted teeth, lips pulled back as he tries to smile through the pain, all pressed back against the massage chair like he wants to fall behind it, holding in his next shout when she clips his cuticles. 
He’s getting his cock sucked so good tonight, you can’t wait to spoil him.
- - - -
Taglist:
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee
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lackadaisycats · 3 months
Note
Why does Fablepaint draw such mean spirited art of Rocky. Is it a personal sense of humor kind of thing? Or does disturbingly mean spirited art the only way for FablePaint to draw this character. Is it possible for some more lighthearted and optimistic stories regarding Rocky to show up anytime soon? I’m not saying this to try to be offensive or aggressive, I just think the world’s depressing enough, why make the fictional world sad as well. I do love the comic, I just wish it was happier.
I don't think Fable's art of Rocky is especially mean-spirited. At least no more so than mine has been. Rocky has always been a character with a knack for getting himself into trouble. I do know that Fable likes Rocky and finds various aspects of Rocky's personality and circumstances pretty relatable. I think a lot of what you're seeing actually comes from a place of affection, and maybe even a little bit of vicarious self-deprecation. I will tell you from my own experiences, this is very common among creators (myself included). A character may not be an intended self-insert of any sort, but you inevitably still end up with bits and pieces of yourself reflected therein. And in many ways, you're also inevitably sorting out some turmoil close to your own heart through the character and the story they inhabit.
-----------------
About the broader topic of sad things in fiction... Yeah, the world is harsh, cruel, and unfair even at the best of times, but I don't think art that fully disregards this does much service to anyone. The most fluffy, pastel-colored, marshmallow-mild media will still tend to present us with some conflict, because that's how a story manages to resonate. It's hard to convey something meaningful about human resilience, or abiding love, enduring friendship, confronting inner demons, triumph over injustice, or about the absurdity of living without acknowledging the darkness. Even if you're just writing something to make light of the implacable dark, it must be there for you to laugh at.
I think it's fine to use fiction as a temporary retreat from your own real life concerns. And I think it's fine to have comfort characters who you turn to when you need some uplifting. There are a lot of really sweet and lovely fan-works featuring Rocky out there that are much gentler with him than Fable or I will be. You can stick with those! That's okay! But canonically, he's part of a story about a tumultuous time in history, and a tumultuous time in his own troubled life. He's a flawed character surrounded by other flawed characters. He's willfully taken on the role of a violent criminal, in fact. And though I don't think the story of Lackadaisy is without happy, silly, lighthearted aspects, it's not only that. I can't change that without undoing everything I've been working toward. I hope that's understandable.
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yuri-is-online · 11 months
Text
Out of the Bag (Jamil, Ace, and Idia x Yuu)
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"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.
"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?
notes: (so uhhhh Jamil and Ace were supposed to be a part of the original post but I cut them out because I had to go to bed but forgot to remove the tags, sorry </3) they/them pronouns used for Yuu, sibling snark (Jamil and Ace) vs light angst (the Shroud parents), light reference to certain events in Ch. 6, but nothing specific. If you liked this please check out the first version on my masterlist.
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Jamil
"Oh yeah, you're Najma, right?" The younger girl looks pleasantly surprised you have remembered her from your visit to the Scalding Sands.
"Well that makes this a lot easier, do you know where Jamil is?" You internally cheer at how polite she is, some of the other families you have been dealing with today have really been testing your patience. "I've been looking everywhere for him, but couldn't seem to find a good opportunity to sneak up on him." Or maybe not, that doesn't sound like she hasn't seen him at all, why is she asking you?
"According to my schedule he's probably in the gym for the club activities program." You confirm with your clipboard and Najma sighs.
"Lame, he's gonna be all sweaty and gross." She checks her phone as you sneak a glance at Grim trying to figure out how much longer you have before you need to find something shiny to distract him. "Actually maybe I can just ask you." You turn your attention back to Najma who seems to be tapping her cheek with her phone and sizing you up. "Is there anywhere to get snacks on campus?"
"Now you're talkin!" Cheers Grim, bringing a really bright smile to Najma's face and a tentative one to yours. "Mr. S's Mystery Shop's got all the tuna you can ask for!"
"And other things to." You helpfully add and Najma happily begins to follow.
"So what do you like to do?" she asks almost ten seconds into your walk. "Like what fun stuff is there to do around campus?"
"Shouldn't you be asking your brother?" You ask, thankful Grim is too caught up in his tuna thoughts to make any snarky comments.
"About you?" Najma laughs and you feel a bit silly. "Nah he hates being honest about things like that."
"Well I don't have much free time..." but you manage to list off some things that you like as Najma nods, still tapping her phone on her chin for some reason.
"What about food?" she stops fiddling with her phone and just goes straight to texting on it as the Mystery Shop comes into view. "I know Jamil's food looks boring but it tastes super good."
"It sure does." Grim says, well more like whines. "He only ever gives it to Yuu and gets mad when I eat it though."
"That's because he asked for my opinion, not yours." It's a petty thing to say, but hey Jamil's a good cook. Najma seems to agree, giggling before you both jump ten feet backwards as a strangely shaped blur nearly knocks you over.
"NAJMA!" Jamil is indeed, sweaty and gross looking, his basketball jersey is practically drenched through, almost like he ran the entire way to here from the gymnasium. He's doubled over, hands on his knees as you fumble around looking for the water bottle Crewel made you bring with you earlier which he gratefully takes.
"Oh hey what are you doing here Jamil?" You don't know Najma super well, but she almost sounds disappointed to see her brother. "Prefect said you were at the gym."
"Don't start." Jamil passes you back the empty water bottle, hesitating just a bit before he lets you take it. "She didn't do anything weird, right? Hasn't said anything strange?" You blink in confusion.
"No? She's just been asking a bunch of questions about stuff. Jamil relaxes, letting you take the bottle with a genuine smile-
And gets cut off by a shutter sound effect making you both turn towards Najma, who doesn't bother looking up from her phone camera.
"Whoops thought I turned that off."
Ace
"Well, well, well, just what should I do with you?"  The ginger stranger is stroking his chin with an all too familiar look that puts you on edge, not because you think he is going to try anything illegal (yet) but because you can practically see the collar on this guy already.  There really is no beating around the bush about who this guy is, even if you really wished you had some plausible deniability.   "I could tell you about that time I told him if he kissed a frog it would turn into royalty and he actually did it-"  Too much information he technically just did.  "Or what about that time he only wanted to eat carrots so I freaked him out by saying he was turning into one because his hair was orange-"  So is yours big brother Trappola!  And where the hell is Grim he is supposed to be suffering through this with you.  "Nah those are too boring- oh I got it!"  Before you can break out in a dash for the mirror chamber, big brother Trappola claps an unintentionally (you hope) firm hand on your shoulder.  "Listen to this- wait I didn't introduce myself I-"
"Ace's brother."  He seems genuinely taken aback.  "He talks about you all the time." 
"Oh does he?"  Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned that, little Trappola's ego was insufferable already, older Trappola's has got to be worse right.  It's so obvious you can't even bring yourself to put the question mark on it.
"Funny you mention that, from my end it seems like all he ever talks about is Yuu."  He makes a big show of looking you over.  "Always talking about what a pain it is to look after you, but he never does stop."  He maneuvers himself to look directly into your eyes.  “You must be pretty special then, right?”
“Didn’t you used to go here?”  You ask, crossing your arms and fixing your best “not today Trappola” look onto your face.
“Sure did!  Also got put into Heartslabyul, must run in the family, we’re all a bit mad.”  Older Trappola breaks eye contact for just a second, something dancing on the tip of his tongue you have no desire to entertain at all.  You just want to ditch this overgrown root veg on his brother and then take a nap.
“So then, just to be clear, you don’t need me to show you around.”  You fumble around your clipboard looking for a map anyway.
“Oh no I absolutely need you to do that.”  You like it when Ace plays dumb better, at least it’s cute.  “Would be a really bad thing if you just left me all alone and I went somewhere I wasn’t supposed to.”  He stands up straight, looking off into the distance behind you with a dramatic sigh.  “Somewhere like Ramshackle Dorm maybe?  I hear that’s one of Ace’s-”
 A surprisingly strong pair of arms wraps you into an embrace from behind.
“Back off.” snaps Ace, a lot harsher than either of you have heard before “This one’s mine.”
Idia
"Dear! Dear! Come look it's the prefect!" A very excited very pink woman in a sundress and comically oversized sunglasses beckons to a very tall, very out place looking man who is... also wearing comically oversized sunglasses.
"The who?" he sheepishly walks over to his wife and gives you a little wave, clearly out of place but trying his best.
"The prefect! Ortho and Idia's friend." The realization seems to hit both you and Mr. Shroud at the same time, causing you both to retreat just a bit. You because you feel desperately dumb for not noticing the flaming hair and him because-
Well you hope it's because of the whole house thing but who knows.
"Oh sorry. Um we're Mr. and Mrs. Shroud but you probably already guessed that it's really nice to meet you." You awkwardly shake hands while Grim hides behind your legs.
"Do you have any plans for today?" Asks Mrs. Shroud. "I'd hate to interrupt things too much."
"Oh no that's not really an issue for me." You look down at Grim for half a second before adding. "For us."
"I'm sorry to hear that." whispers Mr. Shroud, gently taking his wife's hand and you stand around in silence for a little bit, trying to figure out how to walk the conversation from the ledge it's found itself on.
"Um if there isn't anything you need help with-"
"Idia speaks really highly of you." Mrs. Shroud says gently, and you have to keep yourself from fainting from shock. Idia speaking highly of- no forget that. Idia talks to his parents? And you were the conversation topic? If she had said it was Ortho that would make sense but Idia? "I know he can be a bit blunt, but he treasures your friendship. And as his mother, I am very grateful he has someone as kind as you in his life."
"We both are." whispers Mr. Shroud. "If you need help while you are here please don't hesitate to ask us." And with that they leave you and Grim
~~~
[Fullmetal] hey ortho said u ran into our parents irl
[Fullmetal] srry that had to be awkward
[yuu] it's cool
[yuu] I mean they spooked Grim but they were nice lol
[Fullmetal] UNACCEPTABLE
[Fullmetal] ...so do you think that he'd be cool to come over so I can like
[Fullmetal] apologize
[Fullmetal] u know for the stress
[yuu] and not for talking about me behind my back ( ̄ε ̄)
[read at 6:57 pm]
[Fullmetal is typing... ... ...] [... ... ...] [... ... ...]
"I don't need to apologize if I said nice things... right?"
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