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the-travelling-witch · 1 month

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𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐔𝐏

summary: when you forget to bring your jacket, an unlikely hero comes to your rescue; is there more to his chivalrous action than meets the eye?

pairing: kaiser x gn! reader

warnings: fluff, kaiser being kaiser; i’m still on hiatus but i have to free this idea from my mind or it won’t let me go, also i thought it was super fun when they spoke german in the manga so here we are

blue lock masterlist

“Is it me or is it chillier than normal in here?” You asked, rubbing your palms over your goosebump-ridden arms. As an assistant manager, you’d been next to the pitch more often than you could count, but on this day it seemed like someone turned up the AC.

“Hm, dunno. Seems normal to me,” Kurona said after contemplating for a few seconds. “You’re not getting sick, are you?”

“I don’t feel like it, no,” you wondered aloud as you watched the Bastard München and FC Barcha players walk onto the court. As much as you’d hate to miss the beginning of the Neo Egoist League, perhaps you should make the track back to your room. “I think I’ll go grab my jacket—“

Your sentence was cut off by fabric covering your head, making you flinch in the sudden darkness.

“Hier, nimm meine. (Here, take mine.)” A voice that had quickly become familiar since the foreign teams were introduced passed by and when you lifted the front of the jacket, you found none other than Michael Kaiser in your field of view. As usual, he was looking rather smug for no reason whatsoever.

Still, he was one of the last people you’d expect to help you out, so the raise of your eyebrow was somewhat inevitable.

“Versteh mich nicht falsch, (Don’t get me wrong,)” he continued, cerulean eyes trained on you, “ich mach das nur, dass du von Anfang an zusehen kannst, wie ich Blue Lock vernichte. (I’m only doing this so you can watch from the beginning as I crush Blue Lock.)

“Und da ich sowieso nicht auf die Bank gehöre, macht’s mir nichts aus, wenn jemand meine Jacke aufwärmt. (Also, since I won't be benched anyway, I don’t mind having someone warm up my jacket for me.)” And with that, he sauntered off towards the centre of the field, the self-satisfied grin still tugging on his lips.

“He’s such a jackass,” Raichi scoffed, his jaw locked and a vein protruding from his neck. “Now I wanna play even more, just so I can teach him a lesson.”

“Now now, let’s not get hasty,” you chuckled, holding the Bastard München jacket in your hands. “As much as I understand where you’re coming from, I don’t think it’s a good idea to pick a fight with our guests on the first match day.”

The fact that you knew about the auction system and livestream you’d keep hidden for now.

“While I really don’t like the guy,” Kurona cut in before Raichi could add anything else, “I still think you should wear the jacket. It won’t do anyone any good if you really get sick. You can still go get yours after the match.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I agree,” Isagi sighed next to him. “It is probably for the best.”

“Fine, fine,” you mumbled, sliding your arms through the comfortable sleeves of Kaiser’s jacket, bunching it up at your wrists so it wouldn’t cover your fingers.

And with that, the whistle signalled the start of the match.

To no one’s surprise, the match was shaping up to be a great one from the start, the quality and speed of the plays upped significantly with the inclusion of the top league players. Though, for some reason or another, you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from München’s number 10, the same number currently decorating your back.

You knew Kaiser was good, considering he was hailed as a prodigy for the New Generation World XI. And yet, seeing him play was a whole different experience from watching the tapes. From his superb ball control to his efficient movements and precise awareness of the field, all culminating in a lightning fast Kaiser Impact, he basically demanded your attention to be on him.

So when his gaze crossed yours after scoring a goal, you felt like you were getting caught red handed by the amused crease of his eyes. With the way heat shot up your body in embarrassment, you might not have needed his jacket anymore.

By the end of the match, your brain felt as tired as if you had played yourself, trying to keep up with the new level to which football at Blue Lock had been raised. Subsequently, you zoned out for most of Ego’s explanation of the auction system, only to zone back in as Kaiser’s 300 million Yen bid was displayed for everyone to see. And while you swallowed hard at that number, the striker in question seemed rather unfazed.

Instead, he sauntered over to where you were standing, still wearing his jacket. You were halfway out of the garment already when he came to a halt in front of you, his long fingers tangling in the fabric to keep it wrapped around your shoulders.

“Hast du nicht gesagt, dir ist kalt? (Didn’t you say you were cold?)” He asked, blue eyes sparkling down at you with an unreadable expression. “Behalt sie an. Zumindest bis du deine eigene holst. (Keep it on. At least until you get your own.)”

“What? No!” You protested, further trying to shrug off the jacket. Despite shoving it back down to where it came from, a small part of you agreed with him, not wanting to give it back quite yet. “You need it more than I do!”

“Hm? Es ist süß, dass du dich um mich sorgst, (It’s cute that you’re worried about me),” he teased, amusement written all over his face, “aber es ist wirklich unnötig. (but, really, it’s unnecessary.)”

“Absolutely not! If you get sick because of me, I’ll never hear the end of it,” you groaned, finally wrestling yourself out of his jacket and shoving it in his arms. “So just take the damn jacket, Kaiser.”

“Nenn mich einfach Michael, okay?) Just call me Michael, alright?)” One finger tilted up your chin, so you wouldn’t avoid meeting his gaze any longer. “Immerhin kennen wir uns gut genug, dass du dir meine Jacke leihst. (After all, we’re close enough for you to borrow my jacket.)”

“Whatever you’re trying to play here, cut it out!” Before he could have a chance to feel the heat rising to your cheeks, you whirled around to make a swift exit and get your thoughts in order again.

In that moment, you were so distracted by the blond, you’d forgotten the whole world could see you wearing his name on your back. You’d later be reminded of it when seeing comments flooding social media, cooing about the gesture or speculating about your relationship with one another. But that was still far from your mind at present, which was still trying to figure out his reasons for behaving like he did.

Meanwhile Kaiser, who watched you retreat into Blue Lock’s hallways, couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at his lips. Perhaps someone here was worthy of devoting his time to after all.

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teymars · 9 months

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PEARLS OF STEEL ⊛

Pairing: adult!neteyam x fem!metkayina reader ⋆

MDNI - 18+ - SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

warnings- smut, minimal plot, dom!neteyam, fluff, neteyam w piercings, oral (m & f receiving), overstim, some praise, tongue piercing (midline), dick piercing (PA), fingering, degradation (minimal), choking, swearing, no use of y/n, aged-up!neteyam.

plot summary- Neteyam has been courting you as of the last few months, since his family arrived at Awa’atlu. From the beginning, you were aware of his tongue ‘piercing’ which he received shortly before meeting you. The metallic ball never really bothered you, he claimed his brother dared him to get it done- which he couldn’t back down to. Eventually when things get heated, you discover his tongue isn’t the only place decorated by pearls of steel. You also discover the many benefits of these accessories. //

notes: this is my first ever fic here so I am open to constructive criticism, I hope you enjoy!

Divider by: Benkeibear 🤍

There was an undeniable tension lingering in the air that separated you from him. Neteyam sat on the floor of your shared marui, tail twitching as he focused on adorning his usual jewelry silently. Your cerulean-gaze simmered into the deep-blue skin of his back, making him subconsciously shift in unease. “Do you really have to leave so early? I’m sure the-” “Sweetheart, you know I have tasks to get through! I’m sorry but I really gotta get going. We will see each other again at dinner, okay?” Neteyam interrupted in a soft tone.

You pouted at the man as he turned to face you. “Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He practically whispered before standing and coming to crouch in-front of you, a faux seriousness on display. Neteyam’s attempt at looking earnest caused you to break into a smile, which he soon matched. His mouth parted open slightly in a grin, giving you a glimpse of his shiny piercing. “please.” You whispered before leaning in, clasping his lips in a soft kiss.

Neteyam groaned quietly against your lips. Unable to resist the temptation of your advances, he pressed you slowly back onto the sleeping-mat. Soon your mouths parted in practiced unison, allowing your tongues to intertwine in a fight for dominance. The slightly cooler metal of his piercing rubbed smoothly against your tongue, feeling as though it came from every angle. Lust seeped from your core like the sweat between his heated body and yours. Neteyam pulled apart slightly, taking a moment to breathe. “We should-” “no, no please.. Teyam!” This time you were interrupting him, followed by an attempt at interlocking your swollen lips again.

Without a word, the man backed away from the encapsulating heat of your mouth. He began sucking wet kisses along your neck and collarbone, the steel pearl of his tongue grinding softly into your skin. Things typically never escalated this far between you two, although you definitely weren’t complaining. His open-mouthed kisses reached your chest and he paused all movement. “Is this okay, sweetheart?” He whispered in question while gripping a tassel on your woven top. You nodded frantically before arching your back so he could access the knot of your clothing. Within mere moments the top was tossed out of sight and mind, leaving you bare in-front of his increasingly lustful gaze. “So, so beautiful..” he cooed, causing your cheeks to heat up rapidly.

Neteyam began to suck and lick lightly over one of your tits, allowing his piercing to roll against your hard nipple. These actions had you gasping and arching deliciously beneath his towering form. In response to a particularly sensitive lick, you grasped his braids tightly between your fingers and yanked his head. Neteyam glared up at you. “You’re such a brat sometimes, you know? Always so fucking needy.” His smooth voice lowered as his hot breath fanned over your chest. A whine curled from your throat as he continued the same ministration on your tits. “ahhsh, cold!” You seethed, only to be ignored as his focus remained on your body. “You like this, don’t you?” Neteyam accentuated his assumption with continuous rolls of his pierced tongue against your skin, slowly trailing down your torso and past your navel. All you could do was nod frantically at him, trying to contain an itching moan.

“You’re so wet for me already, baby.” He observed as your pheromones penetrated his senses and your loincloth continued to soak up some of your arousal. “Fuck it.” Without further elaboration, he began to untie your loincloth. Only briefly did he gaze into your hazy blues in search of confirmation. Satisfied by your approving glance, your clothing was now completely discarded. Neteyam soon removed his own loincloth for fear his painful erection would ruin it anyways.

The warrior gazed at your slick coated cunt with complete admiration flooding his golden hues. “Shit, look at you all pretty and spread out for me.” He murmured. “Be a good girl, baby. let me take care of you, okay?” Another heat driven nod from you initiated his continuation, as he began to press warm kisses to your inner thighs. “Neteyam? Need- need you!” His ears perked at your sudden announcement, his cock throbbing with desire as he registered your words. “You’re such a whore for me, aren’t you?” He questioned rhetorically. “Be patient.” He cooed, now rubbing circles into your thighs as his chin lowered until his nose pressed into your mound. Neteyam’s tongue shot out briefly in a kitten-lick, testing the waters and gauging your reaction as the tip smoothed over your pulsing clit. You shuddered at the fleeting sensation before being thrown into an ocean of tingling feels. Neteyam proceeded to lick a wet stripe through your folds, up to your clit before sucking down on it lightly. “You taste soo good, holy shit.” He mumbled.

Within seconds your hand had clasped into his braids again, urging him to keep going. The man groaned against your pussy, sending vibrations through your system like a domino effect. It was then that you felt the cold sting of a familiar bead rolling across your aching clit. “Fuck!” You gritted out as jolts of pleasure shot like lightning through your body. This sensation was shortly followed by his long, thick fingers prodding against your entrance. “You’re gonna take my fingers so well, aren’t you?” Neteyam taunted as he pressed one finger into you firmly, quickly returning his mouth to your clit. He was obsessed with the way your body reacted to his mouth, particularly his piercing. He got to work thrusting his finger slowly into your heat, then adding another. He then curled them tightly into your sweet spot as his piercing inflicted buzz after buzz to your clit.

All these new feelings overwhelmed you quickly, a tight knot formed in your stomach that bubbled and fizzed with energy. “Wait! I think-” Before Neteyam could even process your words, the knot snapped and a shrill moan broke past your lips. Your release flooded around his fingers like a raging river as you clenched onto him hard and convulsions overtook your spent frame. “That’s it, slut. Cum all over my fucking fingers.” Neteyam growled while still proceeding with his thrusts into your drenched cunt. He wasn’t shocked in the slightest by your abrupt release, he only continued to push you past the brink of a second orgasm.

“Teyam, I can’t-”

“Oh, but you will.”

“Please! It’s too much..”

“Baby, you should have thought about that before you got all needy. Now you can fucking take what I give you.”

Neteyam’s fingers increased to a bruising pace inside of you, his mouth returning to lick through your folds. He thoroughly enjoyed the flavors of your release on his tongue, drinking it up like he would become severely dehydrated if he stopped. The painful twitching of his cock began to become a problem though as his desperation for release had risen drastically. Despite this, he continued pumping you with vigor until the familiar clenching around his fingers resurfaced. You moaned loudly as a second release shook through your core, falling off the cliff into overstimulation. He groaned happily against you, enjoying his meal. You lay there for a moment, catching your breath and recovering from the sensitivity enough so that you could focus on his next movements.

Slowly, the man removed his fingers from your abused hole and stood tall, gazing down at your fucked-out expression with eyes matching that of a starving Palulukan. He held your eye contact, soundlessly sucking his soaked fingers clean followed by flexing a smirk. Only then did you gain the confidence and strength to look away, partly in embarrassment, just for your stare to fall upon his dick. It stood tall and rigid, matching his skin colour apart from its dark purple tip. You were completely awestruck by his size and beauty. At first, not even noticing the very familiar steel-pearl adorned on his leaking tip. “You have one there too??” You whispered hoarsely, questioning the obvious, while also observing the way beads of precum shimmered on it- as he had never mentioned it before. “Yea I do, that was also part of the dare, I regret it though.” He spoke with a slight grit behind his words, clearly growing impatient despite basking in the light of your curious face gazing almost innocently at him. You cocked a hairless-brow at his words. “It was a stupid dare and I don’t want to be constantly reminded of my foolishness, the tongue piercing isn’t so bad but this one, I plan to get it removed.” He explained, cupping your cheek in his large hand. You simply nodded, trying to understand his issue despite your clouded mind.

His confession soon left an idea coursing through your foggy brain. Smirking, you reached forward and gripped what you could of his shaft between your curled fingers. Neteyam grunted in satisfaction at the new feeling, observing the way your small hand ran up and down his shaft painstakingly slow. His breath completely hitched as your thumb teasingly danced over his tip, pinching against the ball of his piercing in order to collect some of his pre. The man’s hips stuttered forward abruptly, chasing the overwhelming sensation as if he would die without it. “Shit! stop doing that, love.” He spoke slowly in a low tone, sounding more like a threat than a request. You rubbed your aching thighs together, attempting to diminish some nerves. This only made you whimper quietly as the overstimulation came back to the forefront, hitting you with the force of an Akula.

Deciding to ignore any further feelings of doubt and sensitivity, you took his cock and licked a long stripe underneath from base to tip. Neteyam let a moan slip past his lips at the sensation, his veins pulsing beneath your hot tongue. You then curled your wet muscle over his head, sucking at it and flicking the piercing lightly. The most guttural moan escaped his throat as his head lolled backwards in ecstasy, moments later his hand was wrapped tightly in your hair. He lost some control, snapping his hips fast towards your face. You gagged loudly as his cock rammed into the back of your throat harshly, causing tears to form in your murky eyes. “Fuck—shit! I’m sorry..” Neteyam whimpered out as his hips continued fucking into your constricting throat. “So good, sooo fucking tight! Haah!” The man babbled as his thrusts fell into a rhythm, causing you to choke loudly on his length. “I warned you- not to..” He paused. Feeling his piercing rolling into the back of your throat was driving him to the edge, fast. “Eywa, I’m close..”

You attempted to hollow out your cheeks only to be interrupted as he pulls out, giving you a chance to breathe again. Neteyam began fisting his cock eagerly in-front of your face, grunting loudly as he twitched with the need for release. “Where do you want it?” He asked abruptly, though it didn’t take long for you to decide. “I want to swallow it..” You said with mustered confidence, reopening your mouth as his hot release began shooting right onto your tongue. “fuck, fuck, fuuuck! cumming- I’m cumming!” He rambled as his orgasm continued to spill onto your face, into your mouth and drip down your chin. You swallowed eagerly and the sight only increased his satisfaction. After a while, the two of you finally pulled some air back into your lungs. He proceeded to wipe the excess cum from your soft face with a spare cloth.

“damn baby, that was fucking amazing-” Neteyam spoke softly while kneeling down in-front of you again, feeling completely relieved. He then took in your half lidded, completely exhausted face. “Shit babygirl, I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?” You shook your head, smiling at him before collapsing onto the sleeping-mat. He was content with your response. Wishing to thank you for it all, Neteyam was quick to lean down between your parted legs again. His only intention being to eat you out until he couldn’t feel his tongue anymore. You were far too tired to stop him, let alone mind it.

“Maybe you should keep the piercing after all, hmm?” You whispered, earning a cheeky smile from Neteyam. “Maybe, sweetheart.”

For anybody who wants to know how he got the piercings, ask Norm.

And that’s it, idk if I would ever do a pt.2 but I hope whoever reads this found it enjoyable :)

Edit: thank you so much for the likes, comments, follows and reblogs! I really appreciate it and I’m glad you guys enjoyed my fic, more coming soon! Please feel free to send me suggestions. I LOVE YOU ALL !!🥰💕🤍

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hiraeth-sonder · 20 days

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Entangled Branches - Queqiao

Jingyuan x Reader

Courting is a matter that requires the utmost tact, though exceptions can be made when you're just that old

//I think this just turned into me dumping about ancient Chinese courting gifts. Poem is 秋夕 by 杜牧.

Holding a needle between your deft fingers, you embroider brilliant thread through the plain fabric, eyes focused on the prick of metal weaving in and out as the image of mandarin ducks slowly forms. One much more colourful than the other, thread of ochre and cerulean decorating the foremost bird’s feathers, the second adorned with milder shades of greys and sepias. Cyan lotus pads scattered around the two birds provide some sense of atmosphere, accompanied by scant petals, all that is left for you to do is to tidy up your ducks and add additional ripples of water.

A hand reaches to grab your scissors, snipping away the last remaining bits of orange thread that now finished the last duck. You mindlessly thread grey string through your needle, piercing through the white fabric to sew wavelets around your ducks. Your fingers ghost over each hill and ridge, feeling for imperfections that might snag. You are well aware that what you make does not have to be perfect, but your pride would not let you give someone anything less than your utmost.

It is perfect, more than perfect. You cannot help the tightness in your chest and the soft smile that creeps up your lips, thoughts not quite racing but on the verge of. Still, you must calm your thudding heart as your hands meticulously free your fabric from its wooden confines, spreading it smooth against the wooden table. Sunlight peaks through the window by your side, verdant leaves just visible behind the elaborate frame, illuminating your work properly, you take a moment to merely let your thoughts wander.

Spice sachets are by no means some modern gift to give your lover, perhaps more common in the days of your youth but surely not now. Back then, they were used as insect-repellent or air fresheners, some people also believed that they protected the wearer against evil spirits. Truthfully, he would have no need for it, but call you an old sentimental coot, you just could not help yourself from wanting to protect him, even in your own silly antiquated way.

Before the thought of actually sewing the pouch comes to mind, your head immediately jumps to the basket weave of herbs long sun-dried for use. It had taken a bit of time to get them, seeing as the alchemy commission was being quite nosey about their use and you had not the heart to tell them. So you did the next best thing and lied, citing that you needed them for cooking. Of course, it was only then that they lightened up, but that did not mean that you could not feel their stares as you scurried away.

The herbs, shrivelled and colours dulled, provide an ever so slightly scent that floated lightly through the air. A pleasant smell, one that relaxed without being excessively heady or strong. Though you had worried that such a gift would only worsen your lover’s sleeping habits, your concern for him won out in the end.

Still, you turn away from them to work on sewing the satchel together, far easier work compared to the actual momentous task of embroidery. It goes by much faster than you expect it to, with your mind drifting to familiar faces and that even more familiar emotion. Before you know it, the satchel has taken on the shape of a lotus pouch, drawstrings and all. You attach the beads onto the strings and all that is left to do is to place your herbs in. With a delicate hand, you slowly stuff them in, layering them as if anyone would even open the pouch.

Tugging on the drawstrings, you hold it to your chest for a moment, your eyes fluttering close and imbuing your prayers for him. To be safe and prosperous, able to do as he wishes without fear or shame, and most importantly for him, for his workload to decrease. A soft sigh escapes you, though it is not one of resignation or annoyance but rather fondness, horrid fondness.

You will find some way to slip this into his office, granted that would not be some hard act with how often he is not in. Still, there had to be some subtlety to your actions, you would ruin all the fun if you refrained from such. Of course, finishing one just means you will have to start the other. You could not possibly think of not making one for that disciple of his, especially when he just keeps getting himself in some kind of trouble.

You shake your head as a soft smile tugs at your lips. Truly, you must have been some saviour to be granted such people.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

银烛秋光冷画屏，轻罗小扇扑流萤。

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He holds up the wooden comb up to the light, keen eyes pouring over every aspect of the humble item. Dark wood carved into elegant depictions of verdant bamboo and a crane, the tines were slender yet sturdy, spaced perfectly to glide through hair. Before him were many more options of such, each comb’s design more elaborate than the last.

The thought of seeing any of them in your hand, fingers wrapped around the wood as you detangle your hair, works oils with that sweet scent that seems to always coax him closer, it sends a soft warmth to his limbs. He does not quite know how to explain it, a rather pitiful situation for someone known for his flattery and skillful words, but he finds that even when you are doing the most mundane things, he loves you just a little bit more. Perhaps others may call him love-addled in the head, but under soft moonlight, in nothing but your sleeping garments with your hair let down, he imagines that fond glint in your eyes and just cannot help himself but yearn to bear witness to such a sight for the rest of time.

The idea of gifting you a comb has been borne out of spontaneity, something he is not the most familiar with but still welcome. It had been custom for combs to be gifted between lovers, a desire to grow ‘old’ with said person, and he supposes that such a sentiment is rather difficult to continue on when long-lives and mara are two very common phenomena. It is rather silly, but a comb is a practical gift and he has always believed that if given the chance, if the two of you were merely two mortals, you would be happy to watch the wrinkles appear on each other’s face and for your hair to turn grey. You would still be beautiful, aged with the years spent together and the joy evident upon your visage, crow’s feet, smile lines and all.

When he returns to his senses, his hand has rested upon another comb. A lighter shade than the first, though the quality is still just as immaculate, the spaces between the tines are much larger, not as tightly packed as the last. Though arguably a lot less intricate than many of its predecessors, there seemed to be a certain charm to it, humble jasmine flowers carved onto the main body with a care that went far beyond ornate. The very engraving of each petal laden with care, ridge and valley of complete smoothness, the simple design far conveyed to him the vision of you than the rest.

He thumbs over the engraving, smiling to himself as he imagines you once more. Again that old image of you at your night-time routine, this time with this very comb in your hand as you call for him, your voice gentle along the night wind with the smell of sandalwood in the air. It really is foolish of him to keep musing, and yet no matter how many times he says it, he truly has been reduced to a languishing simpleton of a man when it comes to you.

“I shall take this one,” He hums, cradling the comb in one hand as he hands it to the seller.

The seller takes one look at it, a contemplative look appearing on their face before their brows furrow. Taking it into their own hands, they send him a complex look, not quite judgemental but surely urging, “Ah, this plain old thing? I’m certain that we have other combs you will certainly be much more interested in.”

A soft breath escapes him, mostly out of amusement than any negative sentiment. He only nods his head, reaffirming his desire for this specific comb out of the litany he was presented.

“Apologies, but I’m quite certain.”

When the seller notes his conviction, they just accept it. They must surely still be confused at his choice but he does not see why he must explain himself, after all, when it comes to someone such as you, even he cannot explain the manner in which even the simplest things remind him of you.

“I see, of course.”

The comb is promptly wrapped up in delicate paper and fastened with string, tied in a knot you will no doubt struggle with but will admire for all of five seconds. When it is brought back to his hands, he thanks the merchant and his chest grows warm.

A comb for his beloved, jasmines adorning your head, surely he must have been some great saviour in his past life to be able to have such a sight.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

天街夜色凉如水，坐看牵牛织女星。

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“General, would you perchance have the time to accept this lowly one’s gift?”

Your arrival to the seat of Divine Foresight has long been announced, a notion that Qingzu and the routine cloud knights were made aware of even before you could fathom planning your next visit. After all, when the general has come to expect your presence sliding in when everyone least expects it, you gain some perks.

“You and your formalities,” He laughs, his voice dear to your ears. Jingyuan’s eyes, framed by those long lashes, focus upon you. Seated at his desk with mounds of scrolls to look upon, though he would usually be more than happy to be dozing off right this very moment, the energy at which he responds only boosts your excitement, “Of course I do, I’ll always have time if it's you.”

“Old sap.” Shaking your head, you can only let that fond smile appear across your face as you make your way to his desk.

It is by no means an arduous journey, and it is not long before you are granted a full view of a certain someone’s rather smug face, almost feline-like if you will. Furthermore, you suppose you also should have expected that he would pull you closer towards him, his head all but resting on yours if not for the fact that you still needed to give him something. Still, you ignore the way your breath hitches for just a moment, the familiar scent of sandalwood and tea that clings to his form drifting to your nose and coaxing you to relax, instead you reach for the spice sachet and place it in his waiting hands.

He accepts it readily, and it is by the slight widening of his eyes that you know he recognises exactly what you have made for him. After all, it is not like spice sachets are commonplace in this day and age.

“See, I’ve made it so you can attach it to your belt,” Your voice is low, your head leaning against his shoulder as you fiddle with the strings. You can feel his breath fanning against you, his much larger frame a steady pillar“And it's not too long so it won’t get in your way.”

He is quiet for a moment, admiring the pouch as he turns it over and finds new details to marvel upon. Then, he speaks, voice low and teasing,“My dear, are you saying your beloved stinks?”

“No, I'm saying the air around you stinks.” Huffing, you nudge him with your elbow, a notion that he also clearly finds amusing, as he makes an over-exaggerated ‘oof’ to your light tap.

Jingyuan only laughs at that comment, wrapping an arm around you so that you may be closer to one another. Still, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, a doting smile on his lips. He whispers, “Thank you for the gift, I’m certain your blessings will keep me safe.”

“You better, if I have to find out from Qingzu that you got some grievous injury again I think I’ll be the one going mara-struck instead.”

“Oh then whatever shall I do? I suppose I can only trouble my dear wife to take care of me so that I won’t end up in the healers again.”

At that, you barely resist the urge to butt him with your head, another overfond sound escaping his lips, sounding more like sweet birdsong to your ears that you may hear his amusement and joy so clearly. Though, it is not long until you notice the weight in your lap, some object wrapped in paper and bound in string. When you meet his gaze, he only gestures for you to open it, golden eyes glinting with some indulgent sentiment. You do so, fussing with the knot but eventually unwrapping the paper to reveal a simple wooden comb, jasmines carved onto its body.

The breath in your lungs seems to escape you, for your words get carded in your throat and all you can muster is a pathetic, “You…”

“You old coot, getting me a comb,” You chuckle, an attempt to hide how choked up you were. “We’ve already spent so many years together and you….”

Jingyuan looks to you, and you are certain that if a mirror were to be brought to both of your faces right this very moment, what would be found would be merely two senior citizens playing at youth. Though, with the many hardships that the centuries have put you through, you cannot quite say that you quite mind this kind of childish tomfoolery. Why else would you call upon childhood sentiments? Why else would he choose such a gift?

Holding up a hand to cradle his face, he leans into your touch, those soulful eyes once again meeting yours. There is such a profound affection within them that for a while, it scared you. Yet now, being the one most privy to such a sight, those eyes who hold the sun and make you yearn to protect him, it comes to you as natural as breathing.

“What do you say, my dear?” He offers, cocking his head to the side as those mellow words sink in.

You can only shake your head, an overly indulgent quirk of your lips pulls your lover closer. It is not the first kiss you shared, and it is certainly not the last, for there will be a long, long time before one of you meets your ends.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan #jingyuan x reader

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sukunasdirtylaugh · 1 month

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I am so down bad for merman Satoru HELP

“how do humans... select to be with one another?” it’s 6am when he asks you this, and you’re laying on your side upon a large rock with a blanket you’ve brought as Satoru lays on his back. sun dust’s of sunlight peer through the sky. both you and the creature before you have managed to spend all night together, conversing.

“I think...” you pause and sigh, “it’s complicated now, but... normally people date, they go out to eat and spend time together... then they go through a period of courting until they finally marry by exchanging wedding vows, they each have a ring on their left ring finger,” you scooch closer to him before showing him your bare finger, “see?”

he nods, processing what you’ve just said as he lets out a low hum.

“and you... you’re not promised to anyone yet, are you?”

“nope,” you have no idea why you chuckle nervously, “I... I haven’t really met someone back home to marry ,” nobody wants to live their lives by the sea, nearly all men you’ve met had wanted to live in the city, which was a dealbreaker for you. almost as if your soul, your sanity required you to live here, where you could breathe.

now at the ripe age of 23, you finally understand your grandmother.

“I might just end up like my grandmother,” you tell him, glancing at your empty ring finger, “living here, making a living off of my art, but unmarried.” you feel Satoru glance at you.

“do you really find yourself unlovable?” his question catches you off guard, causing you to shrug then shake your head in silence.

“you might be the only human which I might find myself loving.” he answers, simply and fully, making your lungs seek more air until you’ve also answered.

“and you might be the only of your kind to which I take a liking to,” your eyes meet his cerulean ones, and you’re almost caught off guard by his beauty. the ocean waves crash softly at the bottom of the rock and his eyes shine like translucent shells or pearls, whatever it is, it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.

“If you promise to stay here...” he finds himself saying, “can we... always do this? just you and I?” there’s an innocence between this interaction, less being said and more being expressed through the eyes and the air between you as you nod.

“always,” you say with certainty.

#god I love him so much #merman Satoru on my mind ok #gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #toru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x oc #gojo satoru hcs #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo jjk #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #gojo x female reader #satoru gojo x reader

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 months

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Hello hello! I absolutely adore your writing, it just feels so complex and the dialogue is so perfect you don't understand, probably my favorite writer in tumblr ^^

Do you have any favorite books? I'm not really into reading but I want to write my own stories, and English isn't my first language so I always try to read but I don't really continue since most of them aren't really in my taste– but I'm willing to try anything you read or take inspiration from since I'll probably like it since I like your work so much :]

Sorry, hope that made sense, ty <3

So, I'd like to think that while my writing has a consistent *vibe* it also covers quite a few different genres and moods that could be what you are interested in. Let's go.

If you like a book rooted in complex, dysfunctional power dynamics try....Summer Sons by Lee Mandelo, The Last Tale of The Flower Bride by Roshani Chokski, The Invisible Life of Addie La Rue by V.E Schwab, Gone Girl or Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn, Deathless by Catherynne M Valente, If We Were Villains by M.L Rio, The Foxhole Court by Nora Sakovic, Dark Rise by C.S Pascat, Interview with a vampire by Anne Rice, These Violent Delights by Micah Nemerever.

(You can see that complex, dysfunctional power dynamics that are central to the story are basically my favourite thing haha. My absolute jam and butter! The dynamics themselves vary. You may root for some and watch others in delighted horror.)

If you like a great, not a romcom, enemies to lovers romantasy, try...Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson, Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust, The Folk of the Air trilogy by Holly Black.

For some fantasy horror vibes, try...Rolling in the Deep by Mira Grant (mermaids!), House of Hollow by Krystal Sutherland, The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher.

If you want something cute and LGBTQ, try...The House on Cerulean Sea or In the Lives of Puppets by T.J Klune, One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston, Carry on by Rainbow Rowell, anything by F.T Lukens.

For short story collections that make me want to write...Things We Say in the Dark by Kirsty Logan, Salt Slow by Julia Armfield, Through The Woods by Emily Carrol or the multi-author anthology Hag.

And, let's be real, absolutely no one is following me for worldbuilding, but...

For worldbuilding that has stayed with me, try...The Wayward Children series (all stories semi-standalone) by Seanan McGuire, The Belles by Dhonielle Clayton, The Coldest Girl in Coldtown by Holly Black

I know I haven't done superheroes. I just...?? I liked Hench by Natalie Zina Walschotts, but honestly most of them just don't interest me. Sorry.

#i am currently reading Supper Club by Lara Williams #books #reading #if there is a specific vibe y'all know or crave or can pinpoint in my writing I can also see if I can rec a book #and if I can't I suppose I have to forfeit and write another of that vibe haha

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months

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Malleus, Deuce: Like Mother, Like Son

BRO'S STILL MAKING THE "ARE YOU LOST BBY GHORL" FACE … Malleus’s birthday hits different knowing what I know now 💀 ALSO THE FACT THAT DEUCE SAID "THAT" ABOUT MALEFICENT VS THE HUMANS IS... (trying to keep this wording vague so as to not spoil people who haven’t gotten there yet)

It’s nice to see Malleus and Deuce in the vignettes, I feel like they don’t get to interact that much (which is a shame because I think their dynamic is cute). They had a chapter together in the manga anthology too! I’m glad they could hang out some more.

A Tale as Old as Time.

The princess and her prince were picture perfect in the painting.

The woman, with golden curls that tumbled down her back. Her cerulean gown spilled to the polished floors like a fabric waterfall, the tiara in her hair catching the soft evening light. She gazed up at her lover's warm, twinkling eyes, and smiled.

The man, brunette, locks falling loosely across his forehead. He was handsome in a red tunic with a high black collar, a crimson cape billowing out behind him with each step he took. His gaze was locked with the princess's, his one and only.

Onlookers gathered in a ring around the two, spellbound by how they danced, bodies twinning like threads bound together. It was something precious they dared not disturb, even their breaths clutched like pearls to prevent their escape.

This was happily ever after, a dream come true.

It should have been.

Yet Malleus frowned. His brows drew together and his mouth pursed, a brewing storm settling over his face.

“Draconia-senpai?” Deuce called to him anxiously. “I-Is something wrong? You look a little scary…”

The first year glanced at the portrait of the royal couple. He jumped. “D-Don’t tell me, did this painting piss you off?! Er, I mean... Did it offend you?"

“No, nothing of the sort,” Malleus replied. He rested an index finger against his chin. “It sparked memories of my own days in court. As the crown prince to the Briar Valley, it goes without saying that I've attended a number of occasions similar to what is depicted here."

"Oh, for real? That makes sense, you being royalty and all. What were those events like?"

"Most are rather solemn affairs. Grandmother, the senators, and other politicians gather to discuss diplomacy, trade, and national policies. For certain occasions, there are traditional rituals that must first be performed. A royal birth, for example, must be blessed before the festivities can commence. If it is a knighting, then all the royal guard shall be present and a speech of one's accomplishments read."

Deuce blinked a few times, as though shedding sleepiness. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of a prince's duties. He dropped the smartest sounding response he could: "That sounds tough."

Malleus lips slightly lifted. "I do not mind it. There is pride to be had in conducting such work."

I don't have a reason to doubt what he's saying, but... Deuce clenched his fists at his sides. If Draconia-senpai really feels that way, why does he still seem so pained?

The fairy drew out a sigh, as if dissatisfied with the silence. "... Ah, but how strange. When I look upon this painting, I see many people present... yet the princess touched by diurnal fae and her prince take no notice of them. They have eyes only for each other."

His words were velvet-lined, soft on the ears. Beneath them, a pang of longing rose like a fine mist at daybreak.

"What must it feel like to be so beloved?" Malleus wondered. "To have someone who considers you the most special being in all the world?"

Vines twisted in his gut, thorns prickling his insides. Frustration and molten discontent pooled. For all the power that he wielded, he failed to attain such a basic thing.

Love.

"Do you understand such a feeling, Spade?" The inquiry was pure acid.

"H-Huh, me?!" Deuce startled, not prepared for the demand in Malleus's voice. "Well... uh, I guess my mom calls me her big, strong man. Does that count?"

Malleus's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is it customary for children of man to refer to their offspring as 'big, strong men'?"

"I think that's just my mom's thing." He shrugged. "I'm the only man in the house, so I try to help her out if I can. She jokes about it when I do."

Malleus made a face. It was difficult to discern the emotion he wore.

"Moms, right?" Deuce gave a nervous laugh. "They can be embarrassing, but they care about us a lot."

"I never knew my mother."

"... Oh." A rock dropped in Deuce's stomach. He hurried for an apology as dread rippled through him. "Shit, my bad! I didn't mean to..."

Malleus held up a hand in an elegant dismissal. "Be at ease. I harbor no anger."

There was no point, he told himself, in rage expressed for a woman he had no bond with. Her face, her voice--they were all a mystery to him. She was but a stranger adrift in an abyss.

Still, a part of him sparked at the thought of her, of someone he had yet to meet--would never meet. The thrill of fates closely intertwined, the tenderness of a parent's love.

Malleus went quiet, lowering his hand.

"Grandmother and Lilia have done their utmost to mentor me in her stead." He sounded hollow, insistent. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Deuce.

The Heartslabyul student swallowed. He placed a firm hand on Malleus's arm and squeezed. "... It's not enough, is it?"

He received no answer.

“Your mom is thinking of you, wherever she is.”

Malleus pulled away, presenting his back to Deuce. "Dead fae do not tell tales," he said simply.

“That doesn’t mean she loved you any less,” Deuce stubbornly protested. “Right up until her last breath… she must have been so happy to have you, thinking about what kind of person you’d grow up to be.”

Dreaming of the day when she can, at last, meet you.

Blink, and his eyes were wet. Blink again, and his vision blurred. Heartbeat hot and quick, galloping upon coals.

Did my mother truly…?

“She’d be damn proud of you too.” Deuce flashed a wicked grin. “Believe me.”

“… Hah.” Malleus chuckled dryly.

The longer he considered it, the more appealing the idea became.

A woman in his likeness—or was he made in hers? Papery kisses, fond embraces, words of affirmation. Fire that burned strongly, warding off the darkness.

Wouldn’t that be something?

"I love you, Malleus," whispered that she-phantom. Sweet nothings that sated his starved soul. "Forever and always. My dear son, my pride and joy."

The carefully constructed stone fortress around his heart faltered. His desire burned like a falling star.

He took a breath, and fell from the heavens with his wish.

“Thank you, Spade.”

Just for this moment, let me walk once upon a dream.

A single tear slipped down Malleus’s cheek.

And what a wonderful dream it was.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #spoilers #Malleus birthday takeover #something no one asked for #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #Deuce Spade #leave it to me to turn Malleus’s deranged groovy face into family angst

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aria0fgold · 1 year

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A one day break from drawing was certainly helpful and now im back at it again! For the hero in a dress and mari in a suit anon ehehe. Been thinking about what dress to give him but in the end i decided to just use a dress design from last year that i still need to complete lmaioavxoahxa

#aria rants #that dress is inspired by several hi3 dresses #mostly fu huas cerulean court #and aponias default outfit #its an outfit meant for an oc of mine #ive like finished designing it but i got lazy during the colouring #so its just been sitting there incomplete in my ibis gallery

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vulpisnocturna · 7 months

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Hello there, I hope ur havin a great day ♡ may I ask for Gojo x virgin!reader w voice kink, if it's ok w u obviously 🖤 I just think he would be sooo sweet to his darling 😌

Of course lovely :)

15) free space (voice kink)

NSFW - MDNI

Warnings: virgin reader, voice kink, praise kink, dirty talk, experienced Gojo, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, safe sex (on this blog??? crazy I know), Lawyer AU because why not, soft dom Gojo

His cerulean eyes were truly what people described and more. They had the effect that the Bernini statues had had on you when you had first seen them: awe and wonder at how an artist could carve marble to look like flesh and silk, how fingers curling on stone could look so soft and powerful. Gojo Satoru’s eyes were the same: they left you in marvel of the specks of hundreds, if not thousands of hues of blue, from the deepest depths of the ocean to a forest stream to the summer sky, all the way to the richest sapphires and the July fields of cornflowers in a meadow. They were framed by snowy eyelashes like snowflakes on ice, and try as you might, you could not accept that they were covered by sunglasses most of the time.

The first time you had seen them, you had forgotten how to speak. Now, because Satoru was a bit of a prick, he never did let it go. Once he had caught onto the fact that you had a crush on him, he had asked you out on a date. You were a lawyer green as grass at the firm he was partner at, fresh out of law school, looking to make a name for yourself in the law scene and make a change. Though his methods of arguing were unorthodox, Gojo Satoru was regarded as the best lawyer in the city. He talked way too much and often got cheeky with the Judge, which always made you slump in your chair and cringe inwardly like all the bones in your body had turned to soup, but somehow, his charm always managed to appease both the Judge and the jury.

Nanami-san said that if anyone other than Gojo tried his methods in court, they would be held in contempt in the span of five minutes without even having the time to utter “Your Honour”. He could do what he did because he was Gojo Satoru, but you still admired his speeches, his compelling motions, the way he could turn a case around at the last minute of the closing arguments as though it was second nature.

It was after a full day in court where you had had to cross-examine a very important defence expert witness that Gojo had kept you in the cafeteria at the afternoon break. You were sitting on a bench, trying to relieve the pain in your feet after wearing stilettos and standing behind the podium for hours, and drinking the watery coffee that did not taste like much just to keep yourself going just for another two hours, when Gojo had approached you.

‘That cross was quite the show’ he had commented, devouring a pastry, licking his lips when the strawberry jam inside it painted his mouth bright red.

That had been when Gojo had first taken notice of you. After that, he had insisted on getting a morning coffee with you, buying you lunch on the break and had even invited you to a dinner with the firm partners, and despite you feeling really out of your depth, he had managed to make you feel like you belonged with his easy jokes and cheeky compliments.

One week after the dinner, he had taken you on a beautiful date at a bar in the bustling centre of the city, where cocktails were served with smoke billowing from the glass and even just bartending looked like full-fledged artistry.

And now, after your third date, you had had a couple of glasses of red wine, and you had felt courageous enough to take him up on his offer to go back to his place. As a starting practitioner, you were living in a small flat near the courthouse, one where if you opened the sofa-bed, you would not be able to reach the kitchen unless you crawled over the bed. And now, you were in a penthouse with windows surrounding the living room, overlooking the skyline and the city centre. It was... extravagant and showy, two adjectives you would immediately choose when talking about him. And he was currently embracing you from behind, kissing your throat, sending your heart pattering like hailstones on a car windshield.

You hadn’t had the guts to tell him you were a virgin. You were out of your depth here as you had been at the dinner, but this, this felt so much more personal. This was... embarrassing.

Perhaps because you had been so busy with law school and then work, trying to stay on top of bills and rent, you hadn’t had time to date. You felt as though you had missed a big part of your puberty and early adulthood, and at some point, it had gotten to a point where “waiting for the right one” had turned into not trusting anyone enough with the embarrassment of still being a virgin. You had never been fully naked with someone, never done anything more than making out and shirtless dry humping. And he... well, he had a reputation as a womanizer. He looked like the type to have commitment issues, and God, you should not be involving yourself with him to this point, you should not give out your first sex experience to someone who might just want a one night stand with no baggage, but he had won you over like he won all of his cases.

And now, you were afraid to admit that you loved that peculiar, flamboyant man, and you wanted him to be your first.

But you did not know how to come clean with it. And so you were stuck in that predicament, turning into putty in his hands and growing more and more tense by the minute as his lips ghosted your jaw and your throat, his hands splayed on your stomach, holding you in place.

‘You are so pretty, sweetheart. You smell so sweet- you look so innocent, just want to see you look at me with your pretty teary eyes underneath me’ he murmured against your ear, and a shiver ran up your spine, your eyelids fluttering at the mere sound of his voice. He sounded... tantalising. It was as if his voice alone was enough to render you unable to think, enough to make your lower stomach drop and force you to press your thighs together to alleviate the throbbing between them. The huskiness of it, the sweet but sensual tone, his words... they were all making you dizzy. You could just hear him speak in your ear forever and you would never need to have sex to know what it felt like.

‘Satoru-‘ you breathed, licking your dry lips, and he turned you, picking you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips. His lips clashed with yours, hungry and enticing, soft and ravenous as they sought to brand you and burn their likeness in your mouth. His tongue was warm and demanding against yours, and he tasted faintly of mint and spiced rum, a lingering tribute to the last drink he’d had. His teeth sank in the pliant flesh of your bottom lip, and he sucked, tearing a whimper from you that made him groan.

The sound that came from his throat did nothing to quell down your lust, rather, it poured gasoline on a forest fire, to the point where you were squirming and gyrating your hips against his erection in an attempt to find reprieve.

‘Eager, are we, baby? I like it’ he chuckled, and you burnt from embarrassment and sheer lust, gulping when you found yourself in his room, which seemed to be bigger than your flat, on a king-sized bed with the softest mattress you had ever felt underneath you. He was quick to take off his shirt, giving you a view of his flawless alabaster skin and the lithe body he was blessed with, one that was nonetheless quite toned and muscular for someone who spent his day arguing with people. He climbed above you, looking at you with those cobalt eyes that seemed to make the world stand still.

‘C’mon, sweetheart, relax. I’m not going to devour you- unless you ask nicely’ he winked at you, making you burn at the embarrassing joke and the connotations of his words.

‘I- I haven’t... had sex before. Ever’ you decided to rip the band-aid and hope for the best. Satoru’s reaction was not what you had expected. He looked perplexed.

‘You’re a virgin? You? You must have had a crowd of fanboys following you for years. Were none of them up to your standards? Were you waiting for me?’ he teased, smirking, almost as if he was trying to put you at ease with his light humour. You gave a nervous laugh.

‘Uhh, I was... busy- and never really got to that point’ you stuttered, wishing his stupid extravagant bedside table lamps weren’t on so he wouldn’t see your face.

‘Well, I am flattered you chose me. I’ll have to make it worth your time, yeah?’ he said, seemingly falling back into his charming self as he ran the pad of his thumb across your lower lip, making you hold your breath as you waited for his next move.

He cupped your face, drawing you in for a slow, sensual kiss that made your stomach drop and pebbled your skin with goosebumps. The touch of his fingers was a mere caress across your ribcage, your waist and hip, but you could tell that he was holding back, and he would have likely been much rougher had he not known that this was your first time.

His feverish lips traced a line to your throat, and he took his time savouring your skin, kissing and licking and nipping at your skin until you were sure you were nothing but a pliant ragdoll in his hands.

‘I’m going to make you feel so good, baby... going to make you addicted to this, make you my good girl’ he crooned against your skin, and your breath faltered, your teeth pulling on the corner of your bottom lip. He sounded sinful, alluring, like he was casting a spell on you. His voice alone, hearing him say that, the drop in his tone, the way his tongue seemed to caress every word like his fingers were ghosting your skin... it was already becoming too much to bear. You needed to feel more, and you did not want him to treat you like you were a fragile thing who would break at the slightest touch.

In your fantasies, ones you would take to your grave, he would just take you as he spewed filth to you, praising you and making you feel like you were the only thing he ever saw and wanted. You wanted to be his.

‘Satoru... you can be rougher with me’ you murmured, and his eyes seemed to gleam in the orangey glow of the lamps, a grin spreading across his reddened lips as his fingers curled around your hip.

‘Careful what you wish for, pretty girl’ he said, his hand skimming your body to settle on your ass, under your skirt. He was fondling the pliable skin there, his tongue dipping out to lick your cleavage. He helped you out of your top, his eyes devouring every inch of your skin, making you feel truly attractive and seductive as you watched him take in your features like he couldn’t get enough of you.

Satoru ran his willowy fingers over your breasts, ghosting over your stiff nipples, circling them before he pulled down the straps of your bra and snaked his hand underneath your back to unclasp it and toss it away.

You would have felt self-conscious, were it not for Satoru’s immediate enthusiasm as he dipped his head and kissed the skin around your nipple, his hand kneading the other breast as his tongue flicked your nipple and he sucked it. You arched your back into his eager mouth and skilled fingers, wishing he would touch you between your legs, because you couldn’t take it anymore.

‘So pretty- you’re so sensitive, baby. You want me to take this pretty little skirt off?’ he asked, voice almost mellifluous, and you nodded almost too eagerly, immediately averting your eyes and feeling your cheeks heat up with warmth as you watched him smirk. He unzipped your skirt, easily slipping it off you, and his fingers ran up your thighs, which parted for him instinctively. He hummed in self-satisfaction, eyes locked on your face as he cupped you through your underwear, making your breath falter and a desperate mewl escape you at the much needed friction, which still did not feel like enough.

‘You’re such a good girl. So wet for me’ he crooned, dragging his fingers along your labia, pressing slightly until you were squirming underneath him.

‘Please, Satoru- need...’ you whined, and he chuckled, lowering his head to plant a kiss on your clothed pussy, his tongue mischievously flicking you where your most sensitive spot was.

‘What do you need, sweetheart? Want me to take your panties off and lick your cute little cunt?’ he asked, so impossibly lewd and alluring that you could not help but moan, nodding desperately.

‘Yeah- need you to touch me’ you breathed, and he smirked, cerulean eyes bright and impish as he hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties and dragged them down your thighs, discarding them and immediately touching your bare skin, teasing your wet labia and kissing your thighs, inching closer and closer to your cunt.

He dipped one long finger inside you, and you were already clamping and throbbing around it, but when he curled it, you could not help the breathless, wanton moan that poured out of you. It felt too good to be true.

‘Such a tight little cunt. Need to get you used to my fingers before you can take my cock, m’kay?’ he cooed, and your head spun with the sheer desire that man could induce in you with just his voice and a single finger.

But when his tongue joined his hand and he flicked your clit, you swore you saw stars. Your hands shot to his snowy hair, and instinct made you try to squirm away, but Satoru would not let you. He pinned you down with one large hand and let out a gravelly groan, circling your clit with his tongue.

If you had known oral sex felt this good, you would have sought someone out years ago. But perhaps it was just Satoru, and he was annoyingly good at everything, including sex.

You were reduced to a sobbing, wanton mess as Satoru tormented you in the sweetest way there was, coaxing whimpers and moans from you as he sucked your clit in his searing mouth, added another finger inside you and pumped them, slowly at first, and then deeper and faster.

His fingers were so much different from yours: they were longer and thicker, and he knew what he was doing even better than you did. And his tongue... God, it was torturous.

‘Cum for me, pretty girl- cum on my face’ he said, and you were undone. Your orgasm rocked through you like a surge of electricity, making your body tense up and your thighs tremble, your ears ringing and your eyes full of tears, white splotches dancing in your vision as the tight knot in your lower stomach released.

You were bleary, worn-out and breathless when he finally lifted his head and slipped his fingers out of you, unable to even form words after the orgasm he had just torn from you. Your dazed eyes followed him as he lifted himself off the bed and unbuttoned his trousers, taking them off along with his black boxers, until you stared, eyes slightly wide as his cock slapped against his lower stomach, thick and long, the reddened skin contrasting with the neatly trimmed white hairs of his crotch and the pale skin of his stomach.

He reached to the drawer of his nightstand, grabbing a condom and ripping the wrapper with his teeth. He unrolled it over his cock, smirking at you and hovering above you, kissing you and rubbing the tip of his cock over your labia, making you whine and push your hips against him to get him to push in.

‘Shh, shh. I have to be gentle, don’t want to hurt you, baby’ he murmured, looking as though he was struggling to restrain himself too as he pushed in a little bit, until the tip of his cock pressed inside you, tearing a whimper from you. It already felt thick and as though it was filling you and stretching you, and you did not know whether you would be able to withstand any more.

However, with coaxing and shushing from his part, he was able to push a few more inches inside you, moaning as his head dropped in the crook of your neck, his breath uneven. Your eyes scrunched up and you gritted your teeth at the burning sensation inside you, taking small breaths and trying to relax your muscles even though your instinct was to tense up.

‘Fuck- you’re so tight. You can take it, you’re doing so well, sweetheart. Just a little more’ he praised, kissing you, forcing you to relax and distracting you from the pain you felt as he pushed. You gasped at the sudden pang of pain, raking your nails down his back, but the sting did not take too long to fade away.

The first push of his hips after the pain went away felt so good you could not hold back a loud moan, and your back arched into him, your eyelids growing heavy with pleasure.

He let out a groan, gripping your thigh, lifting it around his waist, deepening the thrusts until you were squirming underneath him, whining and pleading with him.

‘Good girl. You feel amazing. You sound so sweet, baby’ he crooned, slapping his hips against you, until you could barely breathe and were rendered incoherent by how good it felt, how it pressed against all the right places, how his words were guiding you through it, heightening the pleasure.

‘’toru- please... I’m so close’ you moaned, and he gave you an impish grin, pulling you into a sloppy kiss, his hand snaking between your bodies to roll your clit between his fingers, until you were quivering and writhing underneath him, gasping for air when your lips weren’t interlocked with each other.

‘That’s my good girl. Cum for me, baby. I’m close too’ he said, getting rougher, pushing deeper and harder into you, lifting one of your legs on his shoulder, his bright blue eyes burning into you, seeming to sear the image he was seeing into his brain.

A string of curses and slurred pleas left your mouth as it got too much to bear and the knot in your belly released, making you tremble with your orgasm, your field of view obfuscated with white, your muscles weak as his hips stuttered and his rhythm broke. He came with a breathy moan, his head thrown back in bliss, his lips slightly parted.

Satoru slumped next to you, a light sheen of sweat making some strands of snowy hair cling to his forehead, his skin almost glowing in the dim light of his room.

You dared to reach to his face and brush them away, and he closed his eyes, almost as if he was revelling in your touch. It made your heart tighten in your ribcage.

‘Shower with me?’ he asked, smiling slightly, and then his lips stretched into that charming, roguish smirk, ‘I can’t promise I’ll behave, sweetheart’

#i apologise for any law inconsistencies #gojo imagine #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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