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saetoru · 8 months

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RATE MY PROFESSOR! — GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day one — threesomes ; find masterlist here

synopsis. you’re professor gojo’s TA—the catch? you both are romantically involved. what do you do when professor geto happens to accidentally walk in on you giving a blowjob? let him fuck you so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t tell a soul, of course

length. 5.1k words (deep, big, heavy sigh)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, college au, teacher-student relationships, prof! satoru + suguru, TA! reader, power imbalance, age gaps (reader is early twenties and satoru + suguru are early thirties), semi public sex (at campus in satoru’s office), suguru walking in on you and satoru, threesomes, fingering + blowjobs + hair pulling + throat fucking + cum swallowing (satoru), male masturbation + edging (suguru), unprotected sex + (one) clit slap + creampie (suguru), pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, princess, pretty girl, good girl), not proof read—i am a raw dog kinda gal

notes. i would highly discourage having intimate relations with a professor—but….if your professor looks like gojo or geto, i’m blind babe. i ain’t see nothing. i won’t tell a soul

“you guys wanna get lunch?” nobara hums, “we’re all here.”

megumi, as always, looks like he’s about to say no—he probably wants to go home as quickly as possible. but that’s not an option because before he can, yuji has already piped up with an enthusiastic, “yeah! i’m down.”

you fiddle your fingers nervously—how are you supposed to get out of this one? you’d just used the excuse of grading assignments for satoru yesterday, and surely you couldn’t possibly have a fresh pile of them to grade again within twenty-four hours, right? it’d be a suspicious excuse, especially one for nobara, who seems to sniff out a lie a little too easily.

it’s not that you don’t want to hang out with your friends, you love them. really. but you promised you’d be in satoru’s office in fifteen minutes—and you’re not about to keep him waiting, so lunch will have to wait for another time.

you’re still thinking of a usable excuse when she turns to you herself, unimpressed as she dryly says, “i assume you have some midterm review to help him polish or something,” she grumbles, “gojo is so lazy,” she scoffs.

oh—well, that wasn’t very hard. she’s just made it ten times easier for you. nobara has handed you the perfect excuse right in the palm of your hand, and before you can even play it off casually, yuji cuts in and distracts her. bless yuji, you think to yourself.

“hey, professor gojo is a great guy! we all passed with an A! isn’t that great?”

“everyone gets an A in his class, dumbass,” megumi grunts, rolling his eyes, “not getting an A in his class practically means you’re deliberately trying to do poorly.”

on campus, professor gojo is a fan favorite—his rate my professor score is a perfect five stars, and most of the students around campus rave about him. why? because he gives out the letter grade A+ like it’s candy. anyone would love a professor like that.

he doesn’t ever take attendance or knock your grade down when you skip class, his assignments are always easy to google answers to, and the quizzes have unlimited time and attempts. his tests are straightforward enough that even if you never pay attention, doing the review he uploads is sure to help you cram enough to pass. and what’s better? he always adds a generous curve. not only that, but professor gojo is a friendly guy—he loves talking to his students, loves to ramble away if you stop him in the halls or visit during office hours, loves to listen to your stories and nod along in interest, loves to crack jokes and have a good laugh.

everyone loves professor gojo. and when they leave his class with an A+, they love him even more.

you had an A+ in physics yourself when you took his class—and you hate physics. you hated it in high school, and you hate it now. but for gojo satoru? you’re almost a physics enthusiast. professor gojo—or rather, satoru, as you call him now, takes a liking to you. a very…strong liking, if you will.

it all starts on a fateful monday afternoon two semesters ago—it’s one thirty pm, the busiest hour on campus. sometimes, it feels like everyone takes classes at one pm—and as such, getting a table in the university coffee shop is almost impossible. you’re just about to give up and leave with your coffee and sandwich after scanning the place when a wave of a hand catches your attention.

it’s professor gojo.

need a seat? he asks you, gesturing at the chair in front of him at his table—it’s a smooth, amused little drawl, the way he talks. it’s almost always a borderline teasing tone, and his voice is low enough that it sounds oddly enticing. you’ve heard enough girls lust over his voice in class to know you’re not the only one who sometimes appreciates the sound.

you try to insist that you wouldn’t want to intrude, but professor gojo is a nice guy; always looks out for his students and helps them out. so, when he insists that he doesn’t mind you taking the spare seat as he grades a few assignments, well…you decide to sheepishly thank him and sit across from him, finally having somewhere to sit and eat before you’re off to your next class.

and then it begins.

every now and then, you sit across from your physics professor in the crowded coffee shop on campus as you enjoy a cold brew and a sandwich before your next class. somehow, he always manages to snatch a table, and somehow, you always manage to find him. you like to ramble to him sometimes—how professor nanami is a bit too strict for your liking (he giggles at that), how professor ieri always seems too tired and miserable to be here (he nods and agrees), and how professor geto is nice, but he takes literature pretty seriously (he gives you an amused look at that as he hums.)

somewhere along the line, he asks you to be his TA for the following semester—and somewhere further along that line…well, perhaps the one-on-one talks as you sit together at a table for two felt a little too close to something of a romantic setting because you and professor gojo kiss in his office while he calls you in to explain your TA responsibilities.

that was never supposed to happen.

you don’t even remember who leaned in first, or whose arms were the first to wrap around the other, or who tugged who closer, but you both kiss. and then some. and then it happens again, and again, and again—and, well…you’re professor gojo’s, or better yet, satoru’s best kept secret.

you go to his office to grade assignments for him—in between if he steals a few kisses, who’s to know? sometimes, he’s a bit riskier, likes to spread his legs and free his cock and have your hand stroke him as he eyes the door. it’s always a nice view to watch him unbutton a few buttons of his shirt and bite back moans. other days, he likes to slip his hand past your waistband and toy with your clit—the amused glint in his eyes, as he tells you not to get distracted and keep grading when you gasp always, earns him a sharp glare.

it’s like that for the semester, just you and him in his little office where you can break the rules in the safety of secrecy.

that is, until now.

admittedly, this isn’t the best time to be doing this—professor geto likes to have lunch with satoru around this time, and you know you’re cutting it close…but he just looks so pretty like this, head fallen back against his chair as his lips part with a soft gasp.

you’re on your knees, looking up as you suck on the tip of his stiff cock before taking him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down. it’s a rewarding position to be in—to have the hot, loved, campus favorite professor that everyone thirsts over falling apart in your mouth, hands gripping the arms of his chair as he pants harshly above you.

he looks pretty—always does, always looks good enough that you can feel the ache between your legs get worse. the messy strands of his hair stick to his damp forehead, and his lips are always so pink and plump when he bites them like that, and who can forget the way his eyes turn just a shade darker of that bright blue?

you hum around him, making him groan as he mumbles, “f-fuck, you’re so good, sweetheart—always know how to make me feel good.”

you press a kiss to his tip, smearing the bead of pre cum leaking from his slit along your lips before licking them clean—he closes his eyes and groans at that. you can’t help but giggle, can’t help but press more kisses along his hardened length until you’re at the base of his cock.

“pretty little lips,” he hums, reaching to rub his thumb over your bottom lip as you open your mouth, letting him slip into your mouth—he hums approvingly as your tongue swirls around the digit, sucking slowly. “‘s like you were made for taking me, huh?”

“‘course i was,” you grin cheekily—and then you’re back to sucking on his cock, tongue rubbing over that thick vein you love to trace and reaching a hand to play with his balls. he moans—it’s low but still whiny enough that you can’t help but feel so proud at how needy he is, how desperately he always wants you. no matter the risk.

except the risk is probably not the wisest one to test today because just as satoru lets out a particularly loud whine when you swallow around him, the door clicks open and…

oh.

oh no.

this…this isn’t good—this is terrible, in fact. this is the worst possible outcome to the worst possible thing you’ve done, and now you’re screwed. entirely destroyed, in fact—the both of you. here goes your admission and your progress on your degree, and here goes satoru’s entire career and everything he’s worked for, and all because you couldn’t help but give him a blowjob in the middle of his office with the door unlocked where his best friend can walk right in and get a full view.

and worse? this best friend of his happens to be another professor on campus who you happen to have had just last semester. you’re sure he knows you; you’re his former student, after all, and he must certainly know his best friend’s TA.

professor geto blinks—his eyes go back and forth between you and satoru and the still-hard cock between his legs that’s glistening with your spit as you sit on your knees. yeah—there’s no explaining this one.

“well,” he says blankly, “i guess that’s on me for not knocking, huh?”

“suguru,” satoru grumbles, “some of us are busy y’know? can’t you come back later?”

you turn to satoru in shock—how can he be so normal about this? how can he just casually act like this is some random hook-up his friend walked in on instead of a (very illegal and very unprofessional) teacher-student relationship that could get the two of you in more trouble than you can comprehend?

but professor geto doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned. there’s no look of disgust or panic or even anger at you and satoru for your unprofessional habits. there’s no alarm at the distasteful activities you’re doing in the middle of a university office where anyone could potentially walk in on. and then there’s satoru—he doesn’t even bother making himself decent or pulling you from your knees.

no, instead, he looks at professor geto in slight irritation as the latter stands there.

“so this is what you’re always busy doing in your office, huh?” professor geto hums, chuckling in amusement, “i have to say, you at least have good taste, satoru. she’s excellent in and outside the classroom, it seems.”

“yeah, she’s a keeper,” satoru hums, cupping your cheek as he grins down at you, “now if you don’t mind, suguru, we’re in the middle of something.”

“and what do you plan on doing if this gets around?” professor geto raises a brow, unimpressed.

you look at him in panic at that—surely…surely he can’t mean that he would be the one to spread this around, right? surely he wouldn’t throw his best friend under the bus, correct? if not for you, then for satoru’s sake, he’d never let this information find another soul. otherwise…otherwise you’ll both lose everything. all the hard work and progress you’ve made, all of satoru’s experience and years building his career, and all the future opportunities you had coming up—all of it will be for nothing if professor geto says one word.

people wouldn’t have a hard time believing it either, you think. sometimes your own friends like to poke fun at you themselves.

you’re always with him, are you sure you’re not in love with the guy at this point? nobara always likes to snort at you.

why does professor gojo even keep you around? you’re too lazy—you must give good head, megumi tends to tease as he raises a brow with amused eyes.

with how often you’re in professor gojo’s room, you might as well have a crush on him, yuji sometimes giggles.

surely, with how often you’re seen in the coffee shop with him as he grades papers and how often he likes to tease you when you show up to his classroom sometimes to drop off papers, students would certainly take the rumors and spread them like wildfire if professor geto says even the littlest thing.

you look at him with wobbly lips as you whisper, “please don’t tell anyone,” you sniffle, “i…maybe there’s something we can do…to keep you from…”

the two of them look at you in shock—they stare at you for a moment, stare at the crystalline tears welling up in your eyes, at the soft little tremor in your lips, at the sweet little sniffles you try to hide. then, as if in sync, their eyes meet each other’s before finding you once more.

“oh, that’s precious,” professor geto chuckles, “she really is a keeper, satoru—she even looks pretty when she cries. i’m almost jealous.”

“don’t look for too long, suguru,” satoru grumbles—and then, “listen, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry. suguru’s not gonna—”

“well, if there is something you’d wanna do for me,” professor geto cuts satoru off, his voice a low drawl as he walks closer, hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your face up, “i suppose i can keep my mouth shut.”

“anything,” you nod quickly.

you’re so eager to please, he thinks—so perfect and sweet and pliant, that suguru thinks he might actually really be jealous that somehow, it was satoru who caught your attention. how did this all start? when did it start? how long has it been going on? do you have real feelings for each other? or is it just a pleasurable business kind of deal? do you meet up outside of campus? does he take you to the next town over to freely walk around with you on dates? do you kiss sweetly sometimes instead of with hunger? have you ever spent a night in his bed? do you sleep better beside each other, wrapped in the other’s arms?

there are so many, many questions suguru wants to ask. the potential answers to all of them make him a bit more unhappy than he cares to admit. something in him wonders how things might’ve had to play out in order to land you in his office instead—but…but if you’re offering anything, why not take advantage of the offer?

“anything?” he asks, looking at you amused, “you know, princess, anything is a dangerous offer. what if i asked to join? what if i asked to fuck you here in this office so your secret is safe?”

you blink up at him for a moment at his words—they’re a bit shocking. professor geto…doesn’t think this is wrong? clearly, he doesn’t if he’s willing to take part. but that doesn’t sound half bad. not even in the slightest.

they’re a popular pair: professor gojo and geto are all people on campus ever talk about. those two professors who happen to be best friends. they’re not much older than you either—can’t be past their early thirties, even if they don’t look a day over twenty.

did you know they used to go to college together? i heard they’ve known each other since high school. apparently, they applied to work here together and only took the offer up once the other agreed. it’s all people ever gossip about when they mention them both. it’s always about how close they are, how deep their bond is, how there is never one without the other. and then, of course, there are those…the less than appropriate comments you occasionally hear the other girls make. i bet professor gojo gives the best head—he’s always sucking on some lollipop. i’d let professor geto do nasty things to me while i read his literature books out loud to him—he’s too fine. i can take both of them—and i don’t mean their classes.

it’s…not exactly a bad offer that he gives you, you think to yourself. it’s an enticing one, in fact. you get to have them both—professor geto isn’t any less attractive than satoru and…and well, you’d really like for him to keep this a secret, so it’s a bit of a win-win. plus, you’re sure he wouldn’t risk spilling such delicate information when it would put his career at risk, too—it seems like the perfect leverage.

you look at your old literature professor with a nod as you murmur, “then i’d say you should make sure to lock the door this time—we don’t want to make the same mistake twice, do we?”

his eyes sparkle in amusement at that, a low chuckle falling from his pretty lips as he shakes his head at you—you’re even better than he expected. satoru is so, so lucky he’s got to have you to himself all this time. it’s criminally unfair.

“hey,” satoru pouts from behind, still sitting in his chair and still painfully hard as his throbbing cock sits between his legs unattended. “you both are forgetting about me,” he whines.

professor geto—or rather, suguru, you suppose, only looks at his best friend in amusement. “now, satoru—what have i always told you about sharing? here—” he walks over and pulls satoru to stand before taking the seat himself and patting his thigh as he looks at you with a sly grin, “why don’t i get to feel your pussy, and satoru can have your mouth like before? then we both get what we want.”

“bossy as ever, suguru,” satoru chuckles, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker and more excited than you’ve ever seen them.

“get her ready for me,” suguru hums, fingers making quick work to unbuckle his belt and free his hardened cock. you can’t help but stare, can’t help but watch as he wraps his fist around his hardened length and runs his thumb through his slit with a low moan.

he’s not as long, but he’s thicker than satoru—you can easily tell he won’t be any easier to take. you watch attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of his cock with this thumb as he strokes upward, rolling around his tip before stroking down and squeezing at the base. you watch his lips tug between his teeth, a soft moan ripping from his throat as he touches himself in the way he likes best.

you’ll remember what he likes, you think—you can sense this might not be your first and last opportunity to see suguru like this. and next time? well, next time, it’ll be your hand touching his cock and pulling those pretty little sighs and groans from him instead of his own.

“eyes on me, sweetheart,” satoru hums, pulling you to stand before gently guiding your back to fall against his desk, fingers looping into your waistband and pulling your pants down your legs. you can hear the sharp inhale suguru takes as soon as the wetness of your folds is on display, as soon as your puffy clit and dripping pussy are there for him to see so clearly. “watch carefully, suguru,” satoru grins, “she’s pretty when she cums.”

“i can imagine,” suguru muses, “alright then. show me.”

instantly, satoru’s fingers are intruding into your cunt—it’s familiar, the sensation of his digits bullying past your folds and curling against your sweet spot. he’s already knuckles deep, already pressing the tips of his fingers into the back of your walls as far as they’ll go, spreading you open and scissoring you apart. it feels good—it always does, and when his palm rolls across your clit? you can’t help but let out a whiny moan that earns a groan from suguru as he fists his cock tighter.

“god, she even sounds so pretty,” he pants, watching as satoru’s fingers slip in and out of your pretty cunt, at the way it all but sucks them in itself as it flutters around him. everything about you is perfect—but your face is by far suguru’s favorite. the way it twists with pleasure as satoru slams his fingers against your spot mercilessly with every thrust of his wrist has him fighting off his orgasm—his fist slowing down to a teasing edge as he grunts at the way he lets his pleasure die down for the sake of really feeling you.

“that feel good, angel?” satoru asks, grinning down at you.

you nod quickly, head thrown back against the wooden desk as you stutter, “y-yes…s-so good, toru.”

“toru?” suguru asks, “do i get a nickname too? make sure you come up with one for me, yeah?”

it’s almost like you don’t hear him, too busy on the way satoru drags along your walls with every time his fingers sink into you. “toru, toru—s-slow down, ‘m g-gonna…”

“slow down?” satoru gasps—his pace only quickens at that as he gives you a mocking pout, “you want me to slow down, sweetheart? you never ask me to slow down, it’s always faster, toru. faster, please! from you. you don’t wanna give suguru the wrong idea, do you? he’ll think i haven’t taught you how to take it like a good girl.”

suguru snorts at that, slowly dragging his hand up and down his sensitive cock—it’s red at the tip, flushed, and leaky enough that it’s easy to tell he’s aching for release.

“hurry up, satoru,” he grits, biting his lip as he fights back another orgasm and stills his hand, keeping it tightened around the base of his length, “we haven’t got all day.”

“can’t rush making my pretty girl cum, suguru,” satoru gasps, “she deserves the best. look at this pussy—” he gives pulls his fingers out to give your clit attention, rubbing your slick over the sensitive bud as you gasp, writhing over his desk, “—see how perfect it is? you gotta treat it like that too.”

as if from his words alone, as if you get off on the way satoru praises your cunt to his best friend who watches you get stuffed to the brim with his fingers, you whimper before cumming—your pussy fluttering around nothing, walls spasming and dripping with slick as he toys with your clit.

“toru—toru, ‘m cumming…cumming—oh,” you babble, thighs quivering as his thumb doesn’t let up from your abused clit, watching as your hand reaches for his wrist weakly to halt his movements. “‘s too much,” you sniffle.

“too much?” suguru gasps, “how will you take me, then, princess? don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?”

“nah,” satoru grins, chuckling, “she’s got plenty left in her. she can take it.” with that, he hooks an arm under your waist and helps you sit up, leaning down to kiss you softly as you let out a muffled whine against his lips. “you’re ready for suguru, aren’t you, baby? prepped you nice and good to take him, didn’t i?”

you nod, mumbling a soft, “uh huh,” in agreement.

“that’s my good girl,” he coos, grinning as he presses a wet kiss to your forehead.

suguru, patient as ever with a stiff, aching cock standing between his muscled thighs, holds an arm out for you as he murmurs, “c’mere then, princess. can’t back out of our deal yet, can you?” you walk over to him on wobbly legs, letting him pull you to sit on his lap, back flush against his chest as his hands guide your hips. he taps the head of his cock against your clit as he lines your entrance up with his length before pulling you to sit, slowly inching you down on him bit by bit as he gasps at the way you squeeze around him instantly. “h-holy—fuck, such a tight fuckin’ pussy. ‘s like i can barely even move,” he grunts, chin resting on your shoulder as he pants.

satoru walks over, staring down at you as you’re seated on suguru’s lap before cupping your cheek and rubbing over the soft skin with his thumb. “you can take both of us, right sweetheart? you’re just too good not to, aren’t ya?”

you nod eagerly, letting the tip of his cock tap against your lip, tongue moving to lick across his slit and make him groan. he’s painfully hard—cock swollen and neglected for so long, you almost forgot that he’s been waiting for your mouth to take him again after being interrupted. your jaw slacks as you let him thrust his hips and fuck his length into you, tip hitting the back of your throat as you choke around him.

“fuck,” satoru hisses lowly, biting his lip as his hands grab your hair and keep you in place while he ruts into your mouth, “fuck, baby. never get tired of how good this mouth feels—takes me so fuckin’ well. jus’ love feelin’ me down your throat, huh?”

you can’t do anything but let out a muffled cry, feeling the fat tip of suguru’s cock nudge against your sweet spot—it’s just as effortless: the way he finds your most sensitive part. just as effortless as satoru. maybe that’s why they get along so well, maybe they’re connected in that way.

“oh, princess,” suguru moans, panting against your ear as he lets out a breathy moan, “fuck, that’s good—so, good. can hardly move with the way you’re squeezing me. greedy little pussy, isn’t it?”

you whine as you feel his arm wrap around you, finger rolling over your puffy clit as his hips snap upwards and fuck into you, cock dragging along your walls and stretching you enough that you can hardly think straight. he’s big—it feels like he’s almost splitting you open with his girth as his hips roll up and sink him deeper into your cunt.

“she’s…she’s perfect,” suguru pants, “keepin’ this all to yourself? how selfish of you, satoru.”

“she’s mine,” satoru whines, cock pushing past your lips as he speaks, the way your tongue glides along his vein making his cheeks flush as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open with a breathless moan. “she’s too good to share with you. you d-don’t deserve her.”

“yeah? and you do?” suguru chuckles—it sounds more like a labored pant, his breath harsh as he groans into your neck when you flutter particularly tightly around him, forehead falling to dig into your shoulder, “she’s suckin’ me in. think she wants me. don’t you, pretty girl? you want me to cum inside you, right? make you mine too?”

“y-yes,” you mewl, popping off satoru’s length as you whimper when suguru chuckles and gives your clit a light slap, back arching against him as he pushes his cock past your folds again, “yes, wan’ it. wan’ it so, so bad—need it.”

“see,” he raises a brow towards satoru, “knew it.”

you can see the way satoru’s cock twitches at that—at the way you fall apart on suguru’s lap as the latter digs his head into your shoulder as he breathes harshly, chasing his release desperately as he ruts into your slick pussy. you can see the way satoru’s tip is flushed a harsh red, leaking with pre cum as he aches to spill cum down your throat, so you let him push past your lips once more—but not before giving his tip a delicate kiss.

“she’s my girl,” satoru grunts, “mine, mine, mine—knows how to make me cum. kn-knows how to take me so good, right baby?”

and as if to answer him, you suck around his tip, swallowing around his length and making him groan as his hips stutter and cum paints your throat white as it fills your mouth. you try to swallow every drop, try to take what he gives you as he fucks into you desperately and chases the pleasure of his high. thick, hot ropes of cum spill from the corners of your lips as satoru fucks his load into you, panting as his hips sloppily roll and work himself through his orgasm.

“that’s right, sweetheart,” he groans lowly, “take it, yeah? god—fuck, feels so good, baby. ‘m c-cumming.”

you make a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp as suguru’s thumb rubs harshly against your swollen clit, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he groans, hips just as sloppy as satoru’s in his pace that it tells you he’s close too—and then he twitches into your pussy, cock burying into you once, twice, three more times before he groans too.

“gonna cum, princess? ‘cause ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum—fill you up and make you mine. you want that right? want me to—f-fuck, fuck ‘m close, so close,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, letting out a needy whine into your skin before spilling into you. you can feel hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as his tip nudges back into you and pushes his load as deep as he can.

and you fall apart too, coming undone a second time as your walls hug around him tightly, head falling back as you mewl a high pitched, “s-sugu—c-can’t…’s too much—”

“you can take it, pretty,” he hums, “know you can. you’re too precious not to, right?”

it’s messy—it’s downright filthy, in fact, the way his cum and your slick mix and drip along your inner thighs, making a mess on satoru’s chair. you pant as your pussy pulses around him before coming down from your high, falling slack in his arms against his chest as he chuckles and presses a kiss to your jaw.

“fuck,” he breathes, “you’re something else. who’d have thought my favorite little student from a previous semester could do all that?”

“isn’t she a dime?” satoru chuckles proudly, reaching for the corner of your mouth with his thumb, collecting a stray drop of cum and pushing it back past your lips and onto your tongue, humming approvingly as you swallow. “precious, isn’t she?”

“of course,” suguru nods, with a grin, leaning to peck your shoulder, “so, tell me. which professor would you take again?”

satoru purses his lips as he glares. “this isn’t rate my professor, suguru. and don’t get used to thi—”

“well,” you hum, interrupting as you bat your lashes sweetly at both of them, “why i can’t just take both of you again?”

guess who’s posting their october first kinktober fic literally 40 mins before it’s october second ?? if it’s not procrastinated, it’s not reached its full potential

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gojonanami · 3 months

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❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 ❞

❝ I CAN'T BREATHE WITHOUT YOU, BUT I HAVE TO... ❞

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader (canon / multi au)

✧ summary: "would we love each other in every life?" it's the question you asked satoru the night before his battle, and he replied that, of course you would. but did that promise create a curse -- or were you both always cursed to begin with when it came to love?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, jjk manga spoilers (236 spoilers), multiple lives, assassin!reader x duke!gojo, actor!gojo x singer!reader, prince!gojo x knight!reader, model!gojo x photographer!reader, oral (f!receiving) in a car, semi-public, making out in public, pantyhose ripping, canon compliant except towards the end, angsty, but also bittersweet / implied happy ending

✧ wc: 6,589

“Do you think we would be together in another life?” you ask, not thinking much of the question, as your fingers draw lazy circles against his bare chest, your head resting right between his shoulder and chest.

Satoru chuckles, vibration against your skin, “Of course we would, sweetheart,” his arms curl around you, tugging you higher, as he gazes up at you, “you think I could live any lifetime without you?” He murmurs, his lips finding yours, “I know we’d find each other, time and time again,”

“How do you know?” your fingers brush against his cheek, shaking as he presses his cheek into your palm, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Because, I love you,” he kisses you again, sweet lips gliding against yours, his breath warming your lips as he parts.

“You did say love is a curse,” you give a small smile, and he presses his forehead to yours.

“Then I’d want you to curse me — in every life.”

“I swear on my life,” you press the dagger to his throat, blade digging into his formerly perfect porcelain skin, drawing scarlet to the surface, “I’ll kill you, Satoru Gojo,”

“I’m flattered to be a target of the infamous blueblood assassin,” his cerulean eyes glinted like stars in the candlelight, flames flickering across his eyes like burning comets, “but I didn’t think you would announce yourself as you did — what if I called for my guards?”

You scoff, fingers flexing against the hilt of your dagger, “Then you would be dead before you uttered even a single sound and do you think I left your guards to chance? All of that schooling to be a duke and you haven’t learned a single thing have you?”

“And what have I done to end up as your target?” he hums — as you bit back a sigh stuck in your throat — you preferred your marks to be much less chatty, but all he had was his mouth you supposed, “you only target the rich and the corrupt — and while I may fit the former, I do not fit the latter,”

“You’re certainly sure of yourself,” and he’s unfazed by your reply, as his eyes wander the only thing visible of your expression — your eyes.

“Since you have not stated my crime, I can only assume that I’ve committed none, and the infamous assassin whose morals could not be compromised have been,” and your grip wavers a moment, and he takes advantage of your hesitance to disarm you, and pin you to a nearby chaise all before the clatter of your blade hitting the marble floor, “and now what’s an assassin’s price who has done all of this for no reward?”

“How do you know I’ve done this for no reward?” you squirm in his grip, but it’s ironclad, and you know all too well he could have broken from your grasp at any point, but he had chosen not to — your heartbeat roars in your ears as one question repeats again and again stuck between beats — why? “I very well may have taken a payment you don’t know of — you act as if you know of me,”

“Because I do,” the heir replies with a simple smile, “I have followed your work for a long time, and I found myself fascinated with what you do — and why you do it,”

“Honored to have caught your attention,” you say in mock reverence, your arm beginning to ache, “now do you plan to call your guards?”

“Didn’t know you were so eager to die,” he stares still, as you turn your head away from his piercing gaze, “shouldn’t you keep your eyes on your target or now your captor?”

“Do you ever shut up?” You mumble as you flinch as you squirm under his grip, sleeve riding up ever so slightly — and then he sees it. His eyes narrow, as his hand grasps at your wrist now, “hey! Don’t—“

In a moment his fingers nearly rip the fabric of your tunic to tug your sleeve up — angry red cuts and purple bruises litter your arm. Your breath catches as his eyes stare for several moments before sliding back to you — no longer a placid pool but a raging ocean.

“Who did this to you?” he says quietly, and you’re blinking, nearly slack jawed, as you try to rip your arms away, but he won’t let you, “who is it? Is it the same person who told you to kill me?”

“Stop—“

“Is it the same person who’s taken someone important to you?” and you grit your teeth in silence, “is it the little orphan you adopted? Yuji?”

And your eyes snap to his, “How do you know this? Who are you?”

His lips curl, “You told me yourself, I’m Satoru Gojo,” and his fingers brush your cheek, “it’s a shame you don’t remember where we first met — because I never forgot,”

You furrow your brow, “What are you talking about? I think I’d remember you. You’re…” you jerk your head, eyes looking him up and down — lingering on his white hair and eyes, “distinct,”

“Well what if I had black hair and green eyes, would you remember then?” And he whispers your name in your ear, and you pause, “the fireworks were nothing compared to you,”

And your breath catches — “You? But—“

“I had snuck out, had a disguise and everything, and I had planned to explore the festival alone but who do I find but you?” His grip on you loosens only to pull you a little closer, “the girl who had stolen two steamed buns and pinned me with part of the blame, making me run after you—“

“You didn’t have to run—“ and he snorted.

“Well, it was that or get caught sneaking out — so I chose the lesser of two evils,” you can’t help it, your fingers trace the curve of his jaw to the back of his ear, “are you seeing if I’m defective?” And you find it.

“No, he—“ you stop yourself, “you had gotten a small cut right behind your ear, it was deep enough that it would have left a scar behind,” and he had gotten a small cut from one of the soldiers who had grabbed them, bucking him with his sword, before you wrenched him out of there. The two of you spent the rest of the night eating food and sneaking around guards. And then finally climbing up on a rooftop to watch the fireworks.

“How did you—“

“One of my father’s advisers found me later that night, in exchange for never sneaking out again without telling him, he said he would keep tabs on you,”

You have no words, but one left — “why?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, “maybe it was because I’ve been surrounded by nothing but my family’s yes-men, and you were the one person who treated me like a person, maybe it was the fact that day was the only day I actually had fun,” and he glances at you, “or maybe it was because I was drawn to you,”

And you snort a little, “Do you believe in that fates nonsense they fed all of us as kids?”

“I think fate is a very real thing, and I think it’s up to us to seize it,” he releases you, holding your hand before bending to press the barest brush of his lips against the back of your hand, “so, will you seize it or continue to evade your fate?”

“We’ll never be able to evade the press if you do this,” you whisper, as he presses you against a wall of a secluded pillar of whatever place they had chosen to have this awards show, “and our teams will definitely chew us out if we don’t make an—ah,” you gasp, as his teeth nip at your neck, “Satoru, don’t leave a mark,”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he licks his lips, as he leans up, his normally messy white locks combed and parted to the side, his lips kiss bitten red from the liplock he had you in for the last ten minutes, and his white suit slightly ruffled and pressed against you, “you taste so sweet,” his thumb runs down your puffy lips, “and the desserts tonight sucked,”

You chuckle, your fingers toying with the hair resting against his undercut, “Think you would have been pleased with receiving the award for best actor, is that not enough Mr. Gojo?”

“The only thing that pleases me is my gorgeous wife’s singing and,” his lips find yours in a desperate kiss, and you could taste the fruity mocktail he had earlier on his lips, “and her moans when she’s under me,” his hand slides under your dress, dragging over your pantyhose clad thighs, “do you think anyone would notice if you came back without these?”

“Yes, I do,” you gasp as he tugs at the delicate fabric, “Toru, we shouldn’t—” but your pleas are half-hearted, as his lips drift to press butterfly kisses up your jaw, “you deserve me insane,”

“I know,” he chuckles, “that’s why you love me,” and you hum, your noses brushing before you meet lips again, “I love you so much,”

Your fingers cup his cheek, as he leaned into your touch, “I love you too — don’t you want to enjoy all the accolades, the interviews, the congratulations? You won such a big award, Toru, I want you to celebrate,”

“I am celebrating,” he grins, tilting his head, “I’m surprised at you, princess — and you’re the smart one between the two of us,” he teases, as he turns his head to kiss your palm, “in an entire ballroom full of people in there and all the places in the world, there’s no one place I rather be with than here with you.”

“How did I end up stuck with you?” you grumbled, your armor weighing on you heavier than other days, as you stood in front of your prince — the little sun of this kingdom and the future king, the man you were sworn to protect for the rest of your earthly days, and your best friend, for better for worse, “if the fates have written it, I must have done something horrid in a past life,”

“Do you really believe in that garbage?” Satoru raises an eyebrow, as he places his sword down from practice, waiving off his training partner, as he wipes off his sweat with a towel offered by a maid, “You know that stuff they fed to us so we wouldn’t throw tantrums during classes — so we didn’t turn into slugs for our next life,”

“Why turn into one when you are one already?” you smirk, and he rolls his eyes, as he runs his hand through his hair.

“Has a slug ever looked this good before?” and you roll your eyes.

“Think your ego is going to be so large by the time you become king, your crown won’t sit atop your head correctly,” you sigh, rising to your feet, “now we must get you cleaned and dressed, you have a meeting with the—”

“I actually cleared my schedule for the rest of the day,” and you blink, frowning.

“His Majesty will not—”

“His Majesty will be fine — old man hasn’t kicked the bucket over the last fifty things I’ve done — I doubt this will be more than a ten minute lecture on decorum, fifteen if I decide to poke the bear,” he throws you a grin, as he pulls on a fresh shirt, “come, I have something to show you,”

“Show me?” you repeat, before his hand finds yours — his hands are smooth despite the constant swordplay and practice he put in — he supposed he owed that to the royal staff, tending to his looks as much as they did his health. The same could not be said about yours — riddled with cuts and calluses alike. Your cheeks burned as your unkempt hand held his — “your highness, this is—”

“‘Your Highness?’” he repeats, throwing you a smirk over his shoulder, “when have you ever called me that?”

The appearance of holding your hand as he pulled you down several hallways through the palace was beginning to attract the attention of several gawking onlookers. Your cheeks burn — and you’re not sure if it's from the stares, his words, or the fact he was still holding your hand as you both arrive outside his chambers. But you can’t stop him — but you never could stop him when it came to this, could you? It reminded you of the times he dragged you through the gardens, wanting to show you the rabbits’ hidey hole he had found in the corner of the royal gardens.

“Well I was made an official royal guard and appointed as your personal guard yesterday so I thought a little professionalism—” he unlocks his door, turning to look at you, a smile pulling at his lips.

“There’s no need for decorum between us, now is there?” his fingers find a stray strand of your hair, and presses his lips to it, as he opens his door. You glance inside to find a lovely decorated cake and a present wrapped perfectly on the table, “Happy birthday, sweetheart,”

“What—but—” and your mind realizes the date, “how did you—”

“You think I’d ever forget your birthday?” he tilts his head, as your eyes slide to him, “it’s the day we met,”

It was — the day you were brought from your home with your father who had been the king’s royal guard for many years, you were brought to be the prince’s — but you didn’t know you would find more than that in him.

“I didn’t know you did this for your personal staff,” you teased, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, “I certainly can’t imagine what they would think of you inviting a woman to your room for it,”

“Well, you are my personal guard, you’re here to personally guard me against anything, right?” and this was the nature of your relationship wasn’t it? Teasing and goading — toeing that line of proprietary before one of you eased off.

“It seems like I need to guard you only against yourself, your highness,”

“Satoru,” he corrects, his eyes sliding to you, as he says your name with a softness that you wished he wouldn’t, “you had no issue calling me that before,”

“We were only friends then, I’m your guard now—“

“Do you kiss all your friends?” And your cheeks flare, as your gaze refuses to meet his.

“That was—a mistake,” you whisper the last two words, “we can’t do this—“

“Why not?” You turn away, your eyes sliding to the cake, a frown pulling on your lips.

“Because you have a duty to your people and I have a duty to you,” and his fingers find your shoulder gently, giving you leave to pull away — but you can’t, you couldn’t.

“My only duty I desire is the one to you—I love my people, but I can’t be the king they deserve if you’re not the one beside me,” your gaze still cast downward, “I will cast away any responsibility, if I could have a chance with you, sweetheart—“

“The king has discussed your engagement with me,” you murmur, “he told me he plans to have you engaged with a princess from a neighboring—“ And his arm is wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer — your gaze lost in the endless blue skies of his eyes, “we can’t—“

“I’ll find a way,” and you scoff.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you mutter, and his warm palm slides against your cheek.

“This isn’t me promising to find a unicorn when we were five, Princess,” and you chuckle at the thought of his child self trudging into the woods with carrots in hand and what he thought was fairy dust (it was ladies’ finishing powder), “I swear that we’ll be together,” and he reaches into his pocket, and holds a small box, opening it to reveal a beautiful infinity pendant, “and this is my promise,”

You bite your lip, staring at the silver glinting in the sunlight trickling in from the windows, “Satoru—“

“Finally giving in?” And you sigh.

“How can you be sure we’ll be together?” He chuckles, as he gently turns you, making you face the mirror in his room as he places the necklace delicately around your neck, his fingers brushing against the skin of your neck before he clasps it. His arms slowly slide around your middle as he meets your gaze in your reflection, lips curling.

His lips press a sweet kiss to your cheek, “Because I know I’d choose you, again and again.”

“Why did they choose him as my model again?” You groaned as you looked at the list, tossing it back on your desk, “he’s so impossible to work with—“

“The shoots are finished quick—“ your boss replies gruffly, as he stands with his hands in his pockets, “and he said he’d only shoot with you. Said he likes your work and you’re the only one who can ‘capture the real him,’ some crap like that,” he shrugs.

“Yaga, I can’t keep dealing with this man, can’t he shoot with anyone else?”

He sighs, scratching the back of his head, “Look, the magazine we’re working with chose him as the model, and he said he would only do the shoot if you did it,”

You sigh, leaning on your palm, elbow against your desk. “you’re not giving me a choice are you?”

And no, he wasn’t.

Because now you were at the studio for the sight of the shoot, getting everything ready that you could before your model arrived. You made sure his preferred makeup artist and hairstylist were available, you picked out his favorite snacks, got his preferred lighting (to be adjusted when he was on set), and had your cameras adjusted for his light sensitivity.

All of which reduced the amount of time you had to spend with this man — but not even the most divine snacks would stop him from running his mouth.

“Sweetheart,” you turned to see him, “miss me?”

“When pigs fly, maybe,” but your words don’t faze him, a mock pout on his lips, “why do you request me to do your shoots, Gojo?”

“Because it’s the only way you’ll see me,” and you sigh, as you continue to adjust your camera again, “you still haven’t given me a chance—“

“I gave you one chance, wasn’t that enough?” Before you turn to him, “look, I’m here because I have to be. I want to shoot — get in and get out and not have to—“

“One chance to talk to you — please, even if you don’t believe me or forgive me—“

“Fine,” you shake your head, frustrated, “go finish the shoot and we can talk for five minutes after,” and maybe he would stop forcing you into this situation.

Satoru Gojo was the top wanted model by all the agencies — agencies were looking to snipe him and others were looking to have exclusive deals with him — whether it was photography businesses or brands.

You couldn’t blame them, as you adjusted your lights and took a few test shots — he was gorgeous, even by model standards. From his skin to his body to his attitude, it was effortless for him. Even a bad angle or bad lighting did very little to detract from his flawless look.

The chiseled cut of his jaw put statues to shame, his eyes shone brighter than the shiniest gemstones, his charm the envy of the love goddess herself, and his smile was enough to change hearts and minds alike.

The shoots always look little time — the part that took the most time was choosing the best shots — you’d love to take one bad picture of him. Even for yourself — but that had proved impossible. Even deprived of sleep in the hours of the early morning, he was perfect.

Perfect — except for his loyalty, you supposed.

How had it gone so wrong so fast? And how did you let yourself become so carried away that you thought you were different from the others he bedded?

And the shoot was over in a moment, and just like he said, Satoru was by your side as you begin to break down the equipment, as the other staff filed out, “can we talk now?”

“If you have to,” you would give him an ear, but it didn’t mean you’d give him anything else.

“I never cheated on you—“

“Bullshit,” you reply, as you pick up the tripod you set up, “I guess you didn’t the full five minutes,”

“No, I didn’t—what you saw—“

“I saw you kissing another girl all over social media—“

“You saw me with Suguru,” he sighs, “and we weren’t kissing — we were hugging. You thought it was kissing from the angle of the picture, and before I could explain, you had blocked me on everything,”

You pause, “Suguru?” You repeat, as you pull out your phone and pull up the picture — black hair, hair half up, and they could have been hugging. And Satoru pulls out his own phone and shows you a selfie he took that same day, the meta data matching, “oh, oh fuck,”

“Was that an apology? Not familiar with those coming out of your mouth so—“

“Satoru, I’m so sorry,” you murmur, “I saw the pictures and I heard the rumors and I assumed the worst of you,” you run your fingers through your hair, “even though I knew you better than that,”

“You did, but I understand why you thought that,” he shrugged, “we had only been seeing each other for a month, but it meant something to me,” his voice softens.

“To me too,” you shake your head, “I’m so sorry, Satoru. I don’t know how to make it up to you,”

“I know,” he smiles, “have dinner with me,”

You blink. “why?”

“What do you mean, sweetheart? Everyone eats dinner, it’s a—“

“Satoru,” you sigh, “I didn’t believe you, I didn’t trust you, how can you forgive me like that? How could you want to be with someone like that?”

“Well, you made a mistake — you forgave me for the other mistakes I made during our time together, and if I hadn’t let my team convince me that my fake reputation as a playboy would help sell my image — maybe we wouldn’t have been in this mess to begin with,” his fingers brush against yours, “besides, I want to believe in second chances — because I’d want to believe you’d give me one too,”

Your fingers intertwine with his, “Even when I don’t deserve it?”

And he lifts your hand to his lips, blue eyes glinting like an ocean dabbled in sunlight, “All the more for you make up for, right?”

This wasn’t right. No. No.

“Satoru, Toru, please,” your fingers cupped his face, your fingers smeared with his blood as Maki pulled gou away, “no, no!” You don’t remember screaming, but you know you did because your throat was raw, your tears streaming down your face as your hands shook, staring at the dried blood on your fingers.

He promised you he would win. He promised you he would come back. He promised you a life, a family, a home — something beyond jujutsu.

And now you were left with nothing but that.

“I’ll come back,” he had murmured in your ear the night before, his fingers tracing your cheek, “there’s no way I won’t. Have you ever seen me lose?”

You give a small chuckle, “You just got trapped in a box for almost twenty days?” And he pouts, as he tilts your head up, fingers sliding against your cheek.

“It was a one time fluke, sweetheart,” and his lips grazing your lips, “and I’m here now aren’t I?” you hum, “and I’ll always be there,”

“In every life?” He smiles.

“In every one.”

In every one — except this one.

“One would think you’re helpless, if you pout like that,” you teased, as you crawl into bed beside him, a smile on your lips, as he tugs you steadfast into his arms, “it’s only been a few minutes,”

“It felt like a lifetime,” he presses a kiss to your head, “Is he asleep?” And you nod, a sigh on your lips as you settle into bed.

“After about twenty minutes of arguing, he passed out while I was telling him a story. He’s still not accustomed to this mansion,” neither were you — you had spent a few nights lying awake after jerking from the clutches of sleep — the paranoia still rampant in your mind. But those thoughts were a little farther now as you lie against his chest, heart thrumming under your body — the very heart you were meant to stop, and a chuckle escapes your lips.

“What is it?” He raises an eyebrow, and you shake your head.

“Why did you help me?” You draw circles on his chest, “you had every reason not to,” your fingers traced a line across his neck, “I even held a knife to your neck,”

“And that was very attractive,” and you roll your eyes, “what? I like a woman who takes charge,”

“Oh I know,” you chuckle, your lips pressing sweet kisses to his neck, “but I still don’t understand — you had every reason to distrust me, we barely knew each other, and yet—“

“You were still the girl I fell in love with that night,” he murmurs, “I just knew you were something special and when I saw what you were doing — trying to uproot corruption, I knew I was right. And I knew I had to make you my duchess,”

“Well I’m not your wife yet,” you tease, the words barely out of your mouth before he’s got you pinned under him, “Toru—“

“Now, I told you I was going to seize my fate when I saw it,” and he kisses you, stealing every thought from your mind and every breath from your body, his touch filling you with warmth in return, “and I see it right in front of me,”

“And what does it look like?” you smile against his lips, as he leans down to kiss you again.

“Bright.”

“Is it just me or do these paparazzi lights get brighter and brighter each time?” you rub your eyes as the two of you slide into your car for the night, the driver setting off towards your home.

“I don’t know, I was too busy being blinded by my gorgeous wife,” and Satoru’s hands are all but under your dress, sliding up and down your sides, before one cups your cheek, “did i mention how incredible you look, sweetheart?”

You hum, “about a million times,” your fingers slide against his shoulders until he’s practically lying on top of you against these leather seats.

“That’s a million times too little — you look incredible, sweetheart. This dress was made for you,” and his lips taste as sweet as his words, your fingers sliding into his snowy locks while his slide against your bare thighs, “and I can’t wait to take it off when we get home,”

“You’re going to take it off now if your hands slide any further up,” he draws a shiver from you as his hands do just that, daring further up your thighs, “Toru—“

“Don’t worry, the partition is up and it’s just you and me, sweetheart,” and he’s sinking to his knees on the floor, as his hands slide up your dress, “just keep your voice down, don’t want anyone hearing my wife, do we?” And his lips are grazing your inner thigh, his smirk against your skin, “good thing I relieved you of those pantyhose, huh?”

“Toru,” you whined, as his fingers parted your thighs, and he could see your all too soaked panties, a damp patch and the fabric nearly translucent while it clung to your clit, “please—“

“So needy — and now that mouth of yours is being as honest as this one,” his lithe fingers tug aside the crotch of your panties to expose your cunt, “all this f’me? Been like this since our make out earlier? Surprised I didn’t see your cum drip down your legs,”

And his words make you squirm, “Satoru, I swear to god—“ and his lips kiss your clit, as two fingers tease at your entrance, gathering your pre on his fingertips.

“You don’t have to call me god, Princess — just Satoru is fine,” he murmurs as his lips close around your clit, as his fingers work inside your walls, a delicious stretch that draws a pretty gasp from your lips, your head falling back against the leather headrest.

The sounds of the squelch of your cunt and the slurping of his lips against your clit rang in your ears — your fingernails digging into the seat as your other hand clamped over your lips.

“That’s it, just like that, Princess,” his tongue darts out to drag circles around your clit, while his fingers find the spot that makes you see stars.

“I’m—“ you manage, before you’re cumming around his fingers and lips, your toes curling as you do, head back against the headrest. Your eyes find him to see him looking all too perfect even ruffled, as his lips were glossy with your release, tongue darting out to clean it, before he licked his fingers one by one.

“And you were worried about the paparazzi noticing your missing pantyhose,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, a smirk against your mouth, “let’s hope no one saw that,”

And there’s a sharp rap on the window, “Sir and madam? We’ve arrived,” and his lips quirk, as he adjusts your clothes, cleaning your smudged lipstick with his thumb, as you reach up to wipe his lips where the lipstick had gone.

“Shall we celebrate my win properly?” He opens the door and slides out of the car, holding out his hand for yours.

“As we always do?” And your fingers find his, as he presses his lips to the back of your palm.

“Always, Princess.”

“Are you ready yet, Princess?” Your Prince’s arms slid around your waist, his lips already at your neck, as his ocean blues met your gaze in the mirror, “how lucky is our kingdom to have such a lovely future queen? And how much luckier am I to have her as my wife?”

“We do not know if the people will approve of me still, Toru,” you murmur, eyes shying away from his, your fingers finding the infinity around your neck, “you promised me forever, but will they grant it to us?”

“Do you have such little faith, sweetheart, in your future husband?” His fingers find your chin, tilting it upwards to meet your gaze, “I’ve already done the impossible — I charmed you over the last two decades haven’t I?”

“More like wore me down,” and he pinches your cheek, before he presses a kiss to the affronted skin, “re-defined the long game,” and he kisses your nose, “and stole my heart and soul while I wasn’t looking,”

“I never steal,” he smiles that same smile that was emblazoned in your memory all those years ago, when he emerged from the woods with not a unicorn, but a baby fawn he had frightened from very same thicket, “I only take what was given to me,” he smiles, “and you willingly handed over your heart the moment you let me into your life,”

“What was I thinking?” you murmur, cupping his cheek, “now I’ll have to deal with the politics of a kingdom for the rest of my days,”

His lips curl widely, as his lips find yours, a heat that simmers into passion and then into simple love, “I promise, in exchange, I’ll spend the rest of my days making you the happiest you’ve ever been,”

“The happiest, huh?” you murmur, foreheads pressed together, “that’s a tall order, so you think you can do it?”

“I know I can,” he smiles, his arms pulling you impossibly closer, “because I’ll never trying to make you happy, Princess.”

“You’re far too happy with this arrangement,” you say through the door, arms crossed as you pressed your back against it, “I don’t want to come out,”

“You agreed to this, c’mon sweetheart, you’ve taken countless pictures of me—“

“You’re a model — it’s literally your job,” you glare at him through the door, “I’m behind the camera — not in front of it,”

“But you’re just as beautiful in front of it as you are behind it,” and you can hear his pout through the door, “if you really don’t want to, sweetheart, I won’t make you—“

And the door opens, your lips curled in a pout as you emerge in a cerulean gown — the same color as his eyes, the very same that widened upon seeing you.

“Was this necessary?” you squirm in place, as he bites his lip, eyes raking over you, “Toru—“

And he’s in front of you in an instant, his arms winding aaaaaaaaround your waist, “I want to kiss you so badly, but I’ll mess up your makeup,” your breath catches, so his finger brushes against your lips and presses it to his own lips, a little of your lipstick sticking to his lips.

“Toru,” and his lips quirk at the nickname, “why do you want to take pictures of me?”

“Because, I want pictures of you that are just for me,” he gently takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your wrist, “because I’ll never have this moment with you again, but I’ll have these pictures with you,”

“And when do I get pictures that are of you and just for me?” And he presses a kiss to your head.

“Anytime you want,” he murmurs, “we have all the time in the world, don’t we?”

Time — that was the one thing Satoru Gojo always lacked. It felt as if his whole life was an hourglass, waiting for the sand to run out — and the one time it came close, blood seeping like sand through his neck, he was able to turn it on its head, until time was on his side agai.

He wasn’t sure if time was on his side now.

He could only see the winter sky above — flecks of white he could think were snow but never be sure if that was his vision going blurry. He couldn’t feel anything — but he heard the all too distant squelch of his blood against the ground, the sounds of footsteps, the feeling of his body being lifted, a smile still on his face.

He was going home — the one person who always made his world right side up — the only person who could catch the sand that slipped between his fingers and hold it between warm palms. He forced his body to keep running — to keep going, the flow of cursed energy may have come from the stomach and his brain may be able to power his reversed curse technique — but that didn’t compare to his will to make it home — make it to you.

“Toru! Satoru!” he couldn’t will his eyes to open, only managing the barest flutter of his eyelids, “it’s okay, Shoko’s got you, I got you,” you murmur, a soft brush that must but your lips.

Love was always the most twisted curse of them all — and he knew it had always been a curse to love him. Anyone drawn into his orbit seemed only doomed to fall around him — whether it was by their choice, his choice, or fate’s choice.

Fate. That was a word he never had put a lot of stock into. Suguru always said there was a certain order to things — sorcerers were made to defend humans, and that was our duty. He had replied that fate was an excuse for people too afraid to challenge the status quo.

Maybe Suguru took that too seriously.

When Suguru defected — Satoru knew something had to change — he couldn’t let others go even when they had that blue spring. The time that he had stayed frozen in — even as everyone else left, he still lived in those moments, and so he barely lived in the present at all.

Not until you had shattered his self made prison.

And it wasn’t without difficulty.

He told you so many times that it was dangerous to love him, it was foolish to love a person like him with a constant target on their back because inevitably the target would shift to you. And he didn’t want to live in a world without you — but he could choose to, as long as you were the one who would live.

But you were steadfast in your love, roots cracking through concrete until he was covered in your ivy, entangled so deep that there was no escape—because one look from you had stolen his reservations out from under him. Because loving you was as simple as breathing — it just was.

“I would want you to curse me — in every life.”

That’s what he told you the night before this battle — because he knew if he didn’t make it in this life, maybe he could be with you in the rest of them. But how many days would it take until you couldn’t remember the sound of his laugh, the smile on his lips, the way his face looked — because he always feared the same about outliving you. He would only want to outlive you, if only because he didn’t want you to have to bear the pain of outliving him.

Love was twisted, he thought — as your lips brushed his, he could hear you whisper sweet nothings, falling on deaf ears, but heard all the same — once one found it, they cannot live without it — until they have to.

His eyes flutter open, and he sees the blurry image of your face, scarlet smeared on your face, as his hand shakily lifted to your cheek, “I love you, sweetheart,” he manages barely a whisper, “I’ll see you again, I promise.”

Maybe he did curse you in the end — because your souls were bound together in existence — to fall into each other’s orbit and live together happily in every lifetime—

Your fingers gently shut his eyes closed, as tears streamed from your own — except in this one.

“Is it really a curse to meet you again?” you had murmured that early morning, as dawn peaked over Tokyo, and his lips brushed against yours, “sounds like a blessing,”

“You know that blessings often wear disguises — and words like that always carry a price—” but his lips curl, “but if the price is to meet you and fall in love again and again, I suppose I could pay it.”

“‘Suppose?’” you repeat, and he laughs at your immediate pout.

He kisses away your pout, as you slowly melt into his kiss, “Y’know I’d pay any price to fall in love with you again, sweetheart”

You smile, “Just stay with me in this one, that would be enough.”

Did other lives matter when this was the only one he had fallen for you in this life? He wanted to stay with you here — in this moment, in this time — he wanted you in every life — not just all the others.

And he vowed that he would— his fingers twitched—

He would love you in this life too.

✧ a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this one!! i had a lot of fun writing it. it might not be everyone's cup of tea but hey, i enjoyed it. although i questioned my writing ability a lot while writing it lmao

✧ taglist: @gojolova4eva, @xxemmarldxx, @gojolvrr34, @lilbrubby, @jaixxxsc, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @elaemae, @gojonegs, @captain-shittykawa, @sillyrabbitreads, @akumicchi, @satorustorm, @equikaz, @imaginativeghorl, , @dhoranbolt, @strawmariee, @catsgomurp, @that-goth-bisexual, @fushitoru, @dazailover1900

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfiction #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo satoru x reader

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leiswxrld · 4 months

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬

pairings: piercer!ellie williams x fem reader

synopsis: your obsessed with ellie williams and have developed a little thing for her but never talked to her well not until you visited the tattoo shop.

warnings: mdni 18+, smut, cunnilingus (r receiving), strap on usage (calls it her dick), praise + degradation (slut, angel, beautiful, pretty), ellie williams is the mf warning, nipple piercings, public sex kinda.

a/n: I’m actually so fucking obsessed with ellie not even a joke, this was also a request from a friend so thanks bae.

credits: @mmadeinheavenn @hitobaby ❥

When it came to Ellie williams, your friends always heard about how much you were obsessed with her. to the piercings and tattoos they heard it all, you went to the same university and attended most of the same classes but never spoke a word to eachother other.

You were sat in the canteen, laughing and making jokes with your friends whilst your attention turned to Ellie who had headphones in, carrying a backpack as she buys her lunch, sitting herself away from everyone.

Trying to ignore her presence, you try listening into your friend's conversation on her current sneaky link dustin, a boy on the football team who was the goalie star of the team but a total dick, she would always complain how he would be fucking other girls whilst he was with her but she'd managed to go back to him saying, 'it was just for the sex'.

Your head begins to spin, turning your attention back to Ellie who's busy phone in hand and a sub in the other, her piercing green eyes look up towards you, licking the crumbs off her lips not being able to read her unreadable expression before she goes back to what she was doing.

In your deluded mind, you coped up the idea that she might have a slight thing for you trying to convince yourself she'd might actually hook up with you.

It's Monday morning, sat in your lecture a few seats from the front as the teacher is rambling on about a midterm test that's coming up very soon and that everyone should be studying but truth be told you had been too lazy to do anything, staying in your bed whilst watching YouTube. you noticed Ellie hadn't arrived, consciously looking at the door waiting for the freckled beauty to walk through the door.

you tapped your pen against the desk, head in your hand thinking about what you were going to have for dinner later until your completely brung out of your daydream by the sound of the double doors opening, speaking of the devil.

Ellie walks in, hair in a ponytail. dressed in a metal rock shirt with ripped black jeans and black timberlands with her headphones in. she seems unfazed at the amount of distasteful looks she gets as she walks up the stairs in your direction, briefly looking at you and continuing towards the top. the professor continues to teach ignoring her as she writes on the whiteboard whilst talking.

You pretend to drop your pen on the floor, looking behind you to see her sat on the seats towards the right. she's typing on her phone, completely distracted, looking up to see you before smirking to herself.

you freak out internally, feeling your heart flutter a bit as you gripped your pen tightly, humming quietly to yourself thoughts filled with her.

a few days later, your at the tattoo place waiting to get your nipples done. it was a rather last minute decision since you've wanted them for a while but scared because of the horror stories you've heard from other girls which completely put you off at first but then you decided maybe it wouldn't be the same for you.

You begged your friend to come with too scared to go by yourself as you signed the paperwork to get it done. "Girl I'm sure you'll be fine your literally shaking"

you scoff, giving her a dirty look, "If it was you...you wouldn't of gotten them in the fucking first place at least I'm actually getting them done"

she rolls her eyes applying her lip gloss, "I just got my eyebrow pierced I think that’s adventurous enough" you continue to bicker, before a girl approaches you not paying attention before she cleared her throat.

"Y/N right" you look up to see Ellie, the girl you've been crushing over for the past month stood right in front of you and she was about to pierce your fucking tits.

never in your right mind would you think she worked at a fucking tattoo shop but here she was in a tank top, showcasing the variety of tattoos across her arms and neck. you don't remember her being this fucking built but then again you never saw her in uni without wearing punk shirts with a white long sleeved top underneath. your voice gets caught in your throat, your friend looking at you with a smirk as you push her off you, "yeah thats me"

Ellie pauses, looking at her clipboard before looking back at you. "come with me" she says, turning around as you get up from your seat. You follow her, briefly turning around to see your friend who's making sexual jokes as you flip her off.

your nervous, your heart racing as she leads you to one of the many rooms, allowing you to go in first closing the door behind you. "Have a seat on the bed behind you whilst I get everything prepared" she mutters, pointing at the bed as you sat yourself on top of it. you don't think you've ever heard her talk her voice sweet but rugged at the same time as she goes to wash her hands at the sink.

"you've ever pierced uh- nipples before" you quickly speak out, cursing at yourself for your stutter. she takes a second to look at you, not missing the way her eyes stop at your tits before licking her lips. "uh- yeah this isn't my first rodeo so don't worry your in good hands"

she drys her hands, putting on her gloves and sterilising the equipment on the tray before wheeling it towards you next to the bed. "can you lay down for me and lift up your shirt and remove your bra if you don't want me to look I won't" she says, going to turn around before you stop her.

"No its fine you'll see them anyway since your piercing them" Ellie smiles at you, slowly watching as you carefully lift your top up revealing the cute red lacy bra. The tension felt all too intimate for you feeling so vulnerable under her intimidating eyes, you don't know if she's recognised you or pretending not to still remaining professional as you struggle to unbuckle the hook.

in embarrassment, you face ellie who's busy getting her tools lined up. "hey can you help me unbuckle my bra having trouble taking it off" you squeak out and she smiles signalling you to turn around, feeling her cold hands hit the warmth of your back causing you to shiver slightly as you felt the bra strap unbuckle. "thanks"

you slip your bra off, placing it on the bed next to you. Ellie hands you a towel to help you cover up, laying back onto the bed the anticipation killing you as your nerves began to pick up again. "I'm going touch your breasts now tell me if you get too uncomfortable" you nod in response and ellie gently moves the towel down revealing your tits, sitting perfectly the cold air breezing past causing them to harden.

you hear her mutter 'fuck' under her breath, but you don't know if it was your imagination or not. shes gentle, lightly pressing her hand against your left tit, the cannula in her right. "take a deep breath for me" you do, lightly taking in air before feeling the needle going through your nipple.

opening your eyes, you see she's already putting in the jewellery. "I was expecting that to be way more painful" you admit causing her to laugh, screwing in the ball. "a lot of my customers have said that it's just your nerves making you think it will be fucking painful than it actually is"

"don't blame them I was shitting bricks when I got here" you reply, admiring the many piercings she had in her ear. you don't think you ever noticed she had that many, "that was me when I first got them, I did them myself which looking back was fucking stupid but I was 17 and wanted to be different"

"that’s so real" you could relate you managed to pierce your septum and helix in one night which resulted in blood, infections and a long healing period but in the end they turned out good. "ok I'm going to pierce the other one take another deep breath for me angel"

the name went straight down to your core, feeling the wetness seep onto your matching red lace underwear as you avoid her eyes. you take another deep breath before feeling the needle go through which felt a little painful than the last as she puts in the jewellery screwing the ball in.

"anddd.... I'm done take a look" you receive the mirror, angling them towards your tits, satisfied with the cute piercings. "omg they look so pretty" you gleam, taking a second to look at a shy Ellie, "thank you so much"

"your welcome, they suit you just as pretty as you" your gleeful, expression falls turning to look up at ellie who seems panicked at your shocked expression. "s-shit I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable I-"

"you think I'm pretty" you ask, needing the confirmation from her lips once again. "ever since I saw you in the library at uni I thought you were the most beautiful girl in there"

that was the signal you needed, "can I kiss you" ellie says, restraining herself from grabbing you and doing it herself. you nod and Ellie takes your lips on hers, heads moving against each other, roughly pulling at her neck as you both moan.

"so fucking beautiful" she mutters, against your lips grabbing your thighs and pulling you towards her. she makes her way down, leaving bruises all around your neck and kissing your pierced tits carefully making you wince before continuing all the way to your stomach.

"You moan so fucking pretty- shit I have to have you will you let me fuck this pussy baby" she asks- almost begging you to let you use her to get yourself off. "y-yes please fuck me ells" the yes a whimper, just wanting ellie to use her fingers on you.

Ellie wastes no time, taking off your joggers and throwing them across the floor. she moans at the wet spot that's appeared on the matching red lace underwear, helping you slip them off. "fuck" she mutters, your pussy glistening in your juices as Ellie slowly attaches her lips onto your clit, receiving a gasp from you.

She eats you like its her last fucking meal, licking and sucking like a mad woman, moaning at the way you taste and how angelic your moans were. "taste so fucking good"

"just like that els-fuck" she groans at your words, using her mouth to suction on your clit lapping up all your juices that seeped through the white protective cloth on the bed.

Your moaning, hands slipping into ellies hair and toes clenched too fucking blissed to say anything. "I-i want to fuck you" she says, stopping for a second bringing you out of your blissed out state, "what do you mean" your confused, wasn't she already doing it ?.

"you'll see turn around and arch your back against the bed" you obey, quickly rushing up and laying yourself against the bed, avoiding hitting your newly pierced tits.

You hear her unbuckle the belt to her jeans, pushing them down to her legs. briefly turning around, she pulls down her boxes revealing a black glittery strap on. "we only have 10 minutes before my next client so we have to make this quick, angel"

"look at you so ready for my dick, how much does she want it" she referring to your pussy, feeling her tap the tip against your opening. "sooo… bad please fuck me" you beg and you hear her chuckle at your desperate pleas, positioning herself before slowly pushing into you.

"ohhhh-fuck" you moan, exaggerating the oh as she puts her hands on your hips, "so fucking tight for me its been a long time since you've been fucked hasn't it" she asks, smacking your ass.

"s-so long" you admit, the longest time you had been without sex being 5 months. she pulls you back on her strap before thrusting into you at a slow pace, pulling back only to thrust back harder into you.

Your pushing back onto her, meeting her thrusts as your moans get louder. "shhhh angel your being too loud you don't want wanna get caught getting fucked by me right" her tone is almost mocking, feeling her hand push your head against the bed muffling your moans into the hard surface.

You nod, babbling curses and muffled moans as she increases her pace, ass smacking against her strap as your hand grips onto the discarded towel next to you. "fuck back onto me baby come on" she's spanking you, whilst letting you push back onto her as you turn back to face her who seems to be enjoying it as much as you were.

"you look so fucking beautiful from here angel, so desperate for me" she's pounding into you, trying your hardest to stay quiet, your piercing hits the table causing you to wince in pain, "fuck els- I'm gonna cum gonna make such a mess all over you" you moan out, eyes rolling back as you brain goes fuzzy

the loud smacks are echoed across the room, ellie going to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling on it harshly watching as your ass bounces back, almost creaming at the sight of it. "are you going to cum for me slut" you almost silent, ellie knocking the breath out of you as she fucks the shit out of you.

"nghhh- fuck I'm cumming" you squirt all over her strap, earning a satisfied moan from ellie, who thrusts into you a few more times before slowing down. you laid slump on the bed, feeling Ellie pull out of you as you felt her tongue return to your pussy, licking up the juices with a few grunts as you whimper in sensitivity.

"Didn't take you for a squirter" she finally says, helping you to your feet. "that was my first time doing it" you admit and her eyes widen, "really..well shit I guess you just weren't getting fucked right"

Ellie helps you get dressed, cleaning you up and replacing the now soaked sheet with a new one.

"I have to get ready for my next client but I guess I'll see you around, angel" she gives you one more kiss before letting you out, you felt the obvious limp in your step ignoring the dirty looks you got from everyone in the waiting area, returning quickly to your friend who had an obvious smirk on her face.

"so how was it" you grab your purse from her, taking out your card. "it didn't hurt to be-

"Not that how was it was she more of a pink or black strap type of girl" you slap her in the arm, an obvious glare on your face. "I don't know what you’re talking about"

"you do realise everyone heard you getting fucked like the obvious limp in your step and the hickeys all over your neck is a factor" your face drains in colour, no wonder why everyone was giving you dirty looks.

" I have no idea what your talking about let me pay so we can get out of here" you pay, embarrassment on your face as the receptionist gave you the ‘I know what you just did’ look.

Ellie walks out clipboard in hand, calling out a customers name eyes meeting yours before smirking, your face heats up before you drag your friend out of the shop, missing ellies obvious stares at your ass as you do.

“hi I’m ellie right this way”

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #tlou2 #black reader #lesbian #stargirl interlude #lesbian smut #smut #leiscoven #leiswxrld

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washeduphazbin · 3 months

Text

Adam NSFW Alphabet

Here ya go, ya filthy simps.

First time doing a nsfw alphabet so if it’s … bad I’m sorry. Lmk how to improve tho

--Minors DNI--

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

At the beginning of the relationship, I don't think this man knew what aftercare was; I mean, there's a reason Lilith left him. Let's be honest. It would take a learning curve and a lot of explaining from you about your needs after sex until he'd realize how important it really was.

Once he got the idea down, he'd be religious with it every time after sex, he'd ask, "What the fuck you needed to feel extra sexy."

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

What isn't his favorite body part? Toss up between Boobs, Ass, and Thighs, he loves them all. If you held a gun to his head, he'd say your boobs, big or small, he would NOT CARE. He wants them in his mouth.

Small boobie queens, he'd squeeze them like little stress balls when he's annoyed or anxious.

Big boobie queens, pillows. Need I say more. Calls them bazoingas unironically.

Type of guy to stand next to you talking to Lute and reach out and just squeeze your tits, letting out a HONK. Lute would roll her eyes with a snicker as you flushed, while Adam would look at you with the biggest shit-eating grin.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This guy's cum is thick. milky and warm.

Beads at the tip when you turn him on and likes to cum deep inside you, filling you entirely or on your tits or ass.

Will stare hotly as both your cum spills out of you, as you whimper and whine, usually making him ready for round two.

When you suck him off, he enjoys watching it spill from your lips instead of you swallowing.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Adam has one main secret (idk if it qualifies as dirty) but enjoys genuine praise for things he feels proud of accomplishing. It's not like you praising him for exterminating sinners; it's just simple, innocent praise when he does something particularly sweet for you.

A big softie, but only in private and only to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's a fuckboy. Sorry, not sorry, he just is. HOWEVER, it doesn't mean he is a star at sex. He's decent at first, but there's a reason Lucifer stole two of his wives. His biggest gripe was he didn't want to reciprocate head, but you broke him off that relatively quick when you squeezed your thighs around his skull for the first time, practically double-killing him.

It was fuckin' hot.

You both have a lot to learn, but you learn together, and the sex is still angelic.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He has two:

He enjoys cowboy/girl because he's lazy and likes to watch your tits bounce in front of his face.

He also enjoys doggy style, so he can see your ass bounce as he pounds into you, biting your ass cheeks as he goes and slapping.

G = Goofy (are they more severe in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Goofy. He does not shut his mouth; he always has something to say as he's getting intimate with you. It's safe to say he never stops talking, which means he's very vocal about moans, whines, and grunts. It's safe to say he has no filter regarding you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Pretty basic, but the carpet matches the drapes. However, he could be better- groomed. It's safe to say he's definitely hairy, not just there but all over.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Although Adam is definitely more goofy, as discussed earlier, I think sex is intimate and essential to him. While he can be silly, he works his ass and dick off to make sure it's the best sex you've ever had. Oddly enough, when he's alone with you and in a soft mood, he always romantically initiates sex.

Slow and sensual kisses lead to heated make-outs and biting before turning into more.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I think Adam is on the more hypersexual side of the spectrum if you see sex as a spectrum like I tend to. So, if you're not around for some reason, he will probably be cranking one out sometimes more than once a day. Honestly, even if you are around and you're not feeling sex at the moment, he'll pout, but ultimately, go watch whatever heavens' equivalent to porn.

(or videos he's recorded of the two of you ;) )

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think Adam would have three main kinks:

Breeding - "All of humanity came from this dick."

Mommy Kink - need I explain more? Dominant women are such a significant turn-on for him; one look when you're in Dommy Mommy mode, and he's on his knees.

Role-Play- If you don't think he'd make you cosplay and act like Sinner who is trying to redeem themselves just for him to role play fucking redemption into you, your opinion is just incorrect. Sorry.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and Everywhere. He doesn't care; if people see good let them know you're both hot as fuck. They're probably green with envy.

His favorite place, though, is on his desk in his office. The thrill of getting caught lights a fire in him that can't be snuffed out without burying himself in your cunt.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I feel like we discussed this one a lot, but I can add a few more. When you're mad at something Hell did or another resident of Heaven. Also, when defending him, think of the "He asked for no pickles" meme, but it's you asking for Adam.

Oh, and of course, you are in any type of lingerie, punk rock, or revealing clothing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Piss, Poop, ya know the classics. He'd also never want to seriously hurt you, maybe a light slap here and there, maybe a little choking, but if he ever hurts you in the act, he's flaccid so quick and on you like a mother hen.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As stated earlier, his preference is receiving; he loves the way you look between his thighs and his thick cock in your mouth. Drool and pre-cum leaking from your lips.

But he has gotten more open to giving and isn't...great, but you're teaching him how to work his tongue and fingers.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He sets a fast and rough pace, hits you deep in your canal, and kisses your cervix, almost like he's trying to hit your womb. He's a feral beast honestly once he starts fucking you and it'd take an act of God to get him to stop.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

All the time though not super preferred, He likes to tease you as much as he can before letting you cum, but most of the time you have sex, it's out of the house. It's a constant struggle to keep your hands off one another and, more often than not, sneak off for a quick fuck somewhere before rejoining a meeting, hangout or if Adam needs immediate stress relief.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

So long as it's not on his list of hard no's, I feel like Adam will try anything once if you ask. He's for sure a risk taker and wants you to challenge him with something new, but in the end prefers classic sex.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He can last only two rounds, but they usually last. A very long time because he likes to be a little shit.

T = Toys (do they own toys or use them on a partner or themselves?)

He does not own toys, and if you have them and use them, he will absolutely be jealous of them and attempt to make you trash them. But if you say no, he'll respect it. Just be extremely salty.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, he's a brat. It is so unfair that it will test you pretty much through the entire process. He enjoys seeing how much he can overstimulate and edge you before he finally fucks you raw.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So fucking loud. God bless your neighbors if you have any. His groans and moans could shake the entire house, and your whines, whimpers, and pleas for 'harder' aren't any better.

He also laughs a lot.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I think he loves to mark you up to prove to everyone that you are his and his alone. I think it would start with a shit ton of hickies, then a joke from Lute saying he should just collar you until he actually does. It's classy and elegant, matches his angelic robes, and has spikes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

So I absolutely headcanon him with a dad bod (sorry, not sorry); I think he also has significant arm and chest hair and a particularly drool-worthy happy trail. He's squishy and you love it even though he can be a little insecure about it at times, you just tell him you love him no matter his shape or size.

He is your Teddy Bear.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HYPERSEXUAL. HIGH. THIS MAN WANTS SOME FUCK.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Passes out quickly afterward and can't go more than two rounds max. Likes to sleep right after but has learned to check on you first before passing out on your tits or chest.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #x reader #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x y/n #hazbin x y/n #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel smut #reader insert smut #smut #reader imagines #hazbin smut #hazbin adam x reader

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eldritchazure · 2 years

Text

i’m out of school now so here’s part 2 ((:

by the second year, stralka was fourteen and the oldest, and therefore the de facto leader.

ven and stenet went, then skyv. it became clear to stralka that they could not stay at the outpost, and that no one was coming. the forest protected them from the enemy’s sensors, but it also blocked and federation ships scanning for survivors. at that point, twelve-year-olds t’miva and vantik, ten-year-old sava, and eight-year-old sekal remained, and they were all too exhausted and numbed with fear to offer any protest when stralka proposed his plan. the next time a supply ship came to drop off resources to the soldiers manning the stolen outpost, they made a run for it, sneaking around the armed guards who weren’t actually paying all that much attention and hiding in the ship’s cargo hull. stralka didn’t know where the ship was going, for he had not yet learned rihan, but maybe they’d have a better chance at survival there. desperation was illogical, but at this point, stralka was fourteen and willing to take any chance he could get to ensure that they’d live.

they slept through most of the journey despite themselves, jolting awake and freezing in fear whenever footsteps passed their hidden corner.

when the ship finally docked, they scrambled out like rodents as soon as the coast was clear. they hid behind some crates as they took stock of their situation. they were at a spaceport in a city. cautiously, stralka stepped into the light, and to his immense relief and slight surprise, no one started shooting at him. slowly, the others followed him, t’miva coming to stand beside stralka with her best impression of a brave face, sava bringing up the rear, half-hiding their face behind stralka, and vantik carrying the silent sekal who hadn’t uttered a word since t’svai died. there were other children hanging around the spaceport, stralka mentally signaled to the others (because children needed a strong mind to lean on in the absence of their parents, and who better to fill that role than stralka?) that they would pretend to be one of them. and just like that, they went from fugitives to young street urchins, hanging around at the spaceport with nothing better to do.

and that was how they stayed for a while. slowly but surely, they picked up bits and pieces of rihan until they could hold a short conversation (for the most part). they figured out where they could scavenge for food and where to avoid so they wouldn’t run into law enforcement.

and then sekal got sick.

they had no access to medicine, and they couldn’t exactly forage for it because people didn’t just throw away perfectly good medicine. the only visible option was to steal it. but stealing was illogical. stralka paced in their chosen alleyway for the night, trying to look for other alternatives, as sekal’s coughs grew weaker and weaker. stealing was illogical. but if they didn’t steal, sekal would die, and letting sekal die was illogical. stralka huffed in frustration, having long since forgotten that frustration wasn’t something he was supposed to experience. everything about this situation was illogical! the violence was illogical, the killing was illogical, the fact that no one even looked twice at scrawny, starving children was illogical.

so maybe the solution to their current predicament would have to be illogical too. after all, the teachings of surak hadn’t saved v’elak and t’prill and sejik, and they were adults! surak wasn’t going to save sekal from succumbing to sickness, and it wouldn’t save them all from dying of starvation in the future. at the moment, logic was effectively useless, and continuing to abide by it and would be foolish and would likely cost them all their lives.

stralka stole the medicine and got a phaser burn just under his left eye from a glancing shot, and he thanked the unfeeling stars that it hadn’t hit his eye and hadn’t been set to kill. still, it had certainly hurt. but sekal would live, and that was all that mattered. so now they were not only street urchins, but petty thieves as well.

stralka had gotten lucky that time, but that wasn’t always the case. there were multiple close calls with local law enforcement. it was during one of these close calls when he ran directly into another young street urchin about his age in an alleyway, who seemed to be having the same problem if the shouting and footsteps that were following him were anything to go by. stralka didn’t know what possessed him in that moment, but he told the other boy to follow him and scrambled up a pipe attached to a building to get to the roof. seemingly against his better judgment, the other child had followed, and from there took the lead, running across rooftops until they reached an abandoned building. the other boy jumped through a smashed window, and after a moment of hesitation, stralka followed. so there they were, two strangers sitting alone in a dark abandoned building. they stared at each other in silence. having gotten a better look at the other boy’s face, stralka thought that he could’ve been vulcan. he didn’t have the brow ridges that most romulans did. it wasn’t rare to find a romulan with a smooth forehead, but it was an uncommon gene.

“my name is stralka.”

silence. the other boy frowned in what stralka was fairly certain was confusion and a healthy amount of suspicion.

“oh. right. ro- people do not use first names with strangers. apologies. i do not possess a last name,” stralka murmured, cursing his blunder.

“… stralka’s a weird name,” the other boy said finally, his tone still heavy with suspicion.

“i… know that,” stralka said unsurely. “my parents were… creative.”

“you talk weird too,” said the other boy. “you’re also a really bad liar.”

“apologies?” said stralka, because what else could he say without digging himself a deeper hole?

“you’re not from around here, are you?” the boy asked.

“n- no,” stralka replied.

“i’ve never heard an accent like yours before. where are you from?” this was becoming a bit like an interrogation, and stralka had no idea how to answer that question without raising further suspicion. so he opted for silence instead.

“are you an alien?” the boy asked bluntly, now leaving forward with a new fascination in his eyes, almost replacing the suspicion. almost.

“and if i am?” stralka asked, now suspicious as well. his eyes narrowed and his tone was just shy of hostile. he could not allow this stranger to endanger the others. he would do whatever was necessary to keep them safe.

“how did you make yourself look rihannsu? what species are you actually? are you spying on us? are you planning an invasion?” the barrage of questions was… unexpected, to say the least, and stralka found he was having difficulty keeping up.

“i… did not make myself look… rihannsu. i look like this normally,” stralka said honestly, unsure of what else to do. “i am vulcan, which is why we look so alike.” he wondered if telling the truth was a mistake. after all, the romulans and the federation, specially the vulcans, were not exactly the best of friends. but the other boy did not show any animosity, nor was he especially alarmed.

“so the lloann’mhrahel is using kids as spies now?” he asked, brimming with curiosity.

“i- no. the- the ‘lloann’mhrahel’ is the federation, yes?” the other boy shrugged. “well. we are not federation spies, nor are we part of an invasion. it is… a long story. why do you care anyway? i thought romulans- or, um, rihannsu did not like vulcans, regardless of whether or not they were enemy soldiers.”

the other boy shrugged again. “i don’t care too much about politics. even if you were here to mess with the government, i don’t think i’d care too much.”

stralka furrowed his brow. “why not?”

the other boy stared at him with narrowed eyes, the suspicion back in full force. after a moment of silence, he said, “you tell me your story, and i’ll tell you mine.”

perhaps if stralka were a little older and a little wiser, he would’ve said no. he wouldn’t even be entertaining this conversation. he wouldn’t have spoken to the boy and climbed onto the roof without him, and they wouldn’t even be in this situation. but stralka was fourteen with four mouths to feed and four minds to keep steady and yet he felt so, so alone and this boy seemed nice and maybe they could be friends. so he told the boy his story, from start to finish, and decided that if the boy tried to run to the guards about it, stralka would just have to kill him first. when he was done, the boy looked shocked.

“wow. that’s… horrible. although, i can’t say i’m surprised. we’re known for our ruthlessness for a reason,” the boy said with a sigh, and the sympathy was surprisingly… nice. it was nice to be able to vent about it to someone who wouldn’t start crying or staring off at nothing or pointing a phaser or disrupter at him about it. it felt like a weight was lifted off his chest and he could breathing became just a little bit more easy. talking to this boy was easy.

stralka nodded. “now it is your turn,” he reminded.

the other boy hesitated for just a moment, but nodded.

“my family name is xoral,” he began. “but you told me your story, and i’m going to tell you mine, so we might as well be friends instead of just acquaintances, so you can call me cavair,” he said all at once, before taking a breath and continuing his story. the boy, cavair told the tale of an empath. (he had to take a moment to explain that empaths were taken as infants by the tal shiar to be trained as agents. cavair shivered involuntarily and stralka nodded in sympathy.) his mother, a retired tal shiar agent, had decided she didn’t want a life of danger and secrets and loneliness for her son, and so she took him and ran. cavair grew up all over the empire, his mother teaching him the tools of her trade as they went, despite the fact that they were on the run in the first place because she hadn’t wanted him to have to learn to be like her. and that was how it was for a while. though they were constantly looking over their shoulders, lived in relative safety, because the only person who could protect you from the tal shiar was the tal shiar, and that was what cavair’s mother was, even in retirement. however, cavair’s mother was only one person, and she was not a young woman. it took them a decade and three years, but finally, about a year ago, tal shiar agents had caught up with them and cavair was separated from his mother in the ensuing firefight. he barely escaped with his life and hadn’t seen any sign of his mother since. but he remembered what she’d taught him. he was fourteen now and had managed to survive on his own.

all throughout the story, stralka listened attentively. when cavair was finished, all stralka could say was, “i grieve with thee.”

the two sat in silence for a time, watching the other. finally, stralka mustered the courage to speak first.

“you… you could come with us, if you wish? making allies is logical. there is safety in numbers, and we could pool resources. also, you have more experience with ro- rihannsu than us, and that could prove useful.”

cavair was still suspicious. “how do i know i can trust you? how do i know you won’t turn me in for some kind of reward?” stralka thought for a moment.

“we both have leverage on each other. i have your story, you have mine. that way, one of us cannot betray the other without risking his own secret being exposed,” stralka explained. cavair thought on that for a moment, before nodding.

“that’s agreeable.”

the two nodded at each other.

and so, by the end of the second year, there were six instead of five.

#tw child death #tw death #again sorry if it’s bad and sorry for any sorting mistakes!!#at this point i’m too lazy to proofread #what matters is that you get the gist of it!!#also #cavair makes an appearance!!#so that’s fun (:#also btw tell me if i missed any tws #i know this stories are a bit. violent.#so it’s very possible i missed something #star trek ocs #vulcans #romulans #star trek #lt. cmdr. stralka #cavair

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bluessmutifyplaylist · 5 months

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Separate Yandere Malleus (Hubby), Rook (Hubby), Leona (Lazy), Jamil (Babygirl), Azul (Babygirl), Jade (Menace), Floyd (Menace) and Sebek x Female!Tanjiro Reader SFW and NSFW please?

She’s kind, helpful and supportive, always willing to help others and she doesn’t expect anything in return? How cute (Naive), and after getting a taste of her kindness and care, he’s not going to let her go (And is now very territorial/protective of his soon-to-be wife/wifey)

Why can I see Floyd saying ‘Wifey’? (Rook would just make poems upon poems about how much he loves calling her his ‘Darling’ or ‘Wife’ and would violently tremble in joy if she just looks at him Top Tier Romantic/Stalker)

Sorry if that’s a lot, I’m a little knew to asking about Smut Requests (But I love my Twst Men so much, especially Malleus, Idia, Rook, Jamil and Azul, they just need hugs)

This is SMUT, and consensual, despite being Yandere.

Warnings: Yandere, Stockholm Syndrome(?), naive reader, creampie, breeding(?), unprotected sex, all characters are adults, sex with the intention of having children, slight dumbification, Malleus has 1 dick (sorry monsterfuckers), somnophilia in Malleus’s

Leona Kingscholar

You supported him even in his darkest moments, no matter if he was rude to you back. You were there, and the way you would take Cheka when he wasn’t feeling super great really had him appreciating you in a way that he never thought he could before. So, once you had graduated, he asked you if you would marry him.

Of course, this comes from a much darker place in him. He was never going to let you go, even if you refused him. Luckily for him, though, you were in tears as you accepted his proposal, happy to be marrying the love of your life. You were wed rather quickly, with it being a small ceremony, and it was the first time you had seen Leona cry because you just looked so beautiful walking down the aisle. That moment was one you would cherish forever.

Now, your wedding night was a different story. With how hard he was thrusting up into you, making you see stars. You could feel his cock pounding your insides, and you were thanking every god in existence that you married this man. You were two orgasms in already, and you were approaching a third, while he still had his first to go.

“Look at you, my naive herbivore being fucked dumb.” Just hearing those words made you falter and stutter your movements, but it didn’t stop Leona. He was making you ride him through your orgasm, and you were so sensitive. He let out a groan as he came inside you, saying, “I’m not stopping until you are filled with my cubs, baby, so you better keep going.”

Azul Ashengrotto

He knew you were the one when he showed you his cecaelia form for the first time. Instead of being disgusted or even afraid, you used a gentle hand as you played with the tentacles that were pulling you closer and closer. Eventually, you found yourself face-to-face with the Housewarden, and you threw your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. He immediately reciprocated, and he laid claim to you that night.

Years later, you both were married, and he was a successful business owner. You were in the upper-middle class of the ocean, and you both were talking about starting a family. You were already his housewife, keeping the house clean because you both agreed on it (and because he didn’t want you going anywhere that he didn’t have control over).

You weren’t about to complain, though, because he had you in the missionary position. It’s a bit basic, but fuck did it feel good. He was desperate; desperate to fill you up, desperate for you to feel pleasure, desperate to push himself to another climax despite the overstimulation. Your legs locked around him as he started releasing ropes of cum inside you, and you had the orgasm of your life.

“I love you, honey~” Your voice was strained after about two hours of moaning. He laid down next to you, and you laid your head on his chest. He started drawing patterns on your back, and he said I love you in return. You leaned up and gave him a kiss on the lips, and then trailed it down his chest… lower and lower, until round 2 was started.

Jade Leech

You were his the day you burst into Azul’s office and demanded that your friends be let go of their contracts. Hardly anybody would have that amount of confidence, and he found himself obsessed. He’s stalking you, he’s making sure his brother knows that you are his territory and his alone. You could always smell that he was there, as he didn’t know about your keen sense of smell. But, you didn’t mind it.

Years later, you both were married, and it was an interesting marriage. Your in-laws absolutely adored you, Floyd tolerated you, and Jade was still as obsessed with you as he was back in your NRC days. In fact, he wanted to give you a reason to stay forever, so he brought up the idea of having kids. You had many siblings back in your home world, which you never found a way back to, so it was understandable that you would want a big family yourself.

So, that’s how you got here, you being folded in half, your legs being pressed to your shoulders as he pounded you into oblivion. For the past 4 hours, you have been in every conceivable position you can think of, and this was going to be your final one. If you wanted a big family, that is exactly what you were going to get.

“Darling, how many kids do you want? Do you have an exact number? Or am I going to fuck you and keep you full of children until you say that you don’t want anymore?” Just the thought of having so many kids made you orgasm. You realized that you wanted to be with this man for the rest of your life, and you wanted to be surrounded by a family that the both of you created, and you were definitely going to enjoy the process to achieve your newfound dream.

Floyd Leech

He claimed you as his also the day you walked into Azul’s office, as no one ever had the courage, bravery, or stupidity to do it. When he went to squeeze you, you wound back enough to headbutt him, making him drop you. From that point on, you had become his new obsession. You were the only one who could beat him in a fight, so it was kind of obvious that this would happen.

As much as you Floyd simps would probably want to be married to him, he’s just not that big on marriage. He’s not that big on commitment in general. However, he knows that he’s committed to you because he wants you to be committed to him. Plus, any thoughts against marriage flew out the window when he saw you stretching and yawning.

Hours later, your neck was covered in bite marks, some a bit bloody, but he just licked it all away as his cock was buried inside your cunt. He had cum inside you about 2 times by now, and your muscles were sore from being contorted into a multitude of different positions. He had a newfound need to make you his little wifey who was stuffed with his kids 24/7.

It wasn’t until there was a bit of a bulge in your stomach from all the cum he had released when he pulled out of you. You were on the verge of unconsciousness, but you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you close. His body was warm, the final lull to sleep that you needed. It was a rare but sentimental Floyd, where he watched you, in such a vulnerable state… marriage is the best option to make sure you are his.

Jamil Viper

You were the first thing he could actually call ‘his’. He did not have to give you to Kalim, and he was never going to let that happen. In fact, during his overblot, he made his feelings known to you by keeping you at his side. However, you wanted your Jamil, not the one controlled and bound by the ink. After, in the infirmary, he asked if what you said still rang true, and that was where you had your first kiss.

Skip to years later, and you both were married. He still works for the Al-Asim family, but you couldn’t ask for a better husband. He has told you about his hesitancy towards having children of his own, as they would most likely serve the Al-Asim family as well. You understood, but you still wanted to have children with him. He told you that you could have one child for now, and see where it went from there.

Round 1 started right then and there, in your kitchen. He bent you over the counter, railing you from behind. Before, whenever you both would have sex, he would use protection. This time, though, he went in raw, and it was the first time ever that you both truly felt each other, and damn did it feel euphoric. You couldn’t even think anymore.

Of course, this was not exactly a fitting place if you were going to conceive your first child. So, he picked you up into his arms and carried you to your shared bedroom once you had your first orgasm of the night. There were many more to come (get it?) and you were barely getting started. You will not be able to walk for two days, and you will be walking out with hickies… mostly in between your thighs.

Rook Hunt

When he first discovered you, he immediately started stalking you. However, he wrote you sonnets, limericks, and poetry of other sorts for your eyes and ears. He sang your praises, and to lastly win over your heart, he serenaded you properly, under your window. You told him to wait there, and you ran downstairs and glomped him, making out with him on the ground. If it weren’t for his desire to make your first time special, you would have probably conceived a child right then and there.

However, he did wait until marriage… which was less than a year after you graduated. He had a steady income, and he already had a cottage in the forest in the Shaftlands. He always had a fantasy of a big family in a cottage, being a hunter and having his beloved wife by his side as an equal in the home. He cherished you, making sure that he provided for you in every way you needed. You became a housewife, as you would like to be there to take care of your children.

Speaking of, not a single night has passed since your wedding night where you haven’t fucked like rabbits. Sure, you both were still young, but you had been talking about this since you both were in NRC. You felt like you were ready to take on the challenge of rabbits. So, every night, you were filled with his cum. You were claimed as his, with all the hickies all over your body, with the sinful stretch his cock always seemed to give you… it was heaven in Twisted Wonderland.

It did not come as a surprise that you fell pregnant merely a few weeks after your wedding. The news made your beloved hunter so excited. Now, you could never leave him for your world. You had children that tied you to him. During your pregnancy, he is a devoted lover. He makes sure all your needs are met, and that includes the needs that are in the bedroom.

Malleus Draconia

You were his first friend outside of his retainers. You showed him kindness, and you were not scared of him at all. That alone made his draconic instincts want to kidnap you and keep you all to himself. However, he was able to hold off just a little, and you came to him on your own. The rose you had presented him with remains preserved, even years later, as it is a token of your love for him. He was a bit delulu, but aren’t we all?

It was a big request to ask you to marry him, as you would become the queen of a great nation of mostly fae folk. However, you were up to the challenge, and the people loved you. However, there was great pressure for an heir. Again, you were up to the challenge, but you discussed it with your husband first. You both concluded on a large family, so that the children wouldn’t grow up isolated (and totally not because Malleus wanted to see you round over and over again).

That night, all the staff had been advised to vacate the corridor in which your shared chambers resided, as you were not able to quiet yourself. You went a total of 8 rounds, one of which you were passed out for, but gave him the ‘okay’ to fuck you through that brief nap. Any chance of walking was out of the question. You could barely lift your head, and you had to be tended to by maidservants for a week. Unfortunately, Malleus couldn’t tend to you himself, as being the King meant that he was busy.

The entire realm rejoiced at the news of your pregnancy, and you had the world’s best doctors at your disposal. Everyone was concerned about making sure that the heir survived to take the throne, but they were also a tad worried about them being half-fae and half-human, as it meant that their lifespan would be shorter than a typical fae’s. Neither you nor your husband cared, however, as you were just happy to start a new chapter of your lives together.

Sebek Zigvolt

His pride denied him the pleasure of accepting his feelings for you in the first place, and he instead wrote anonymous poems for you that he would leave at your desk. You had no idea who it could be, so when someone claimed it was them, Sebek shouted that it was he who wrote the poems and not the plagiarist. He looked like he was about to fight the poor unfortunate soul, but you placed a kiss on his cheek, telling him that you accepted his feelings and not the other person’s.

About the topic of marriage… he would prioritize being a knight first. However, when he sees a time in his career, he will definitely get married to you. He enjoyed that he was in Briar Valley often and he just needed to train new recruits, and he would return home to you cooking dinner. As for children, the topic would blurt out of his mouth as you voiced your sadness about being lonely. You loved the idea, and as irresponsible as it was, the way you looked at him with newfound dreams in your eyes, he carried you to the bedroom and started right away.

You had discovered that Sebek had a hidden breeding kink, and he loved seeing your face as he came inside you over and over. The husband you thought you knew was giving into the primal instincts deep within him, and you were loving it. His fangs had made their mark all over your neck and shoulders, claiming you despite the ring on your finger showing you were taken.

The Zigvolt family, as well as Lilia, Silver, and King Malleus, were all excited when you announced your pregnancy. However, only the two of you would know what sinful things took place for this to happen. Know that this is not your only child, even if you don’t actually have another one. He wants at least two, and he is willing to adopt.

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tyquu · 2 months

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Ah I remember my question now!! Since Ezra is a growing boy, how does that impact his prosthetic use? I'm assuming they can't just go get him refitted like normal... do they help him resize? Do they build new parts? Or help him find some?

Hiii!! :D) So I doodled out my thoughts as I pondered this question but my handwriting is ass so… I’m also gonna write a little summary too!

Ezra's first Prosthetic was given to him by the same people who performed the amputation on his leg in the first place. Some concerned Lothali citizens who couldn't bare to watch him hop around on his severely infected leg any longer. 12 year old Ezra was pretty pissed about it though (understandably). It didn't help that his first prosthetic was old as balls and awful to walk on.

Thankfully, using bits n bobs he'd collected out on the streets, Ezra was able to tighten the loose hinges at the joints and modify the top to fit better. Alas, he ended up loosing this leg after bopping Kallus over the head with it pretty early on into joining the spectres.

Hera set him up with a pair of crutches and then devoted herself to finding him a replacement. She was determined to find something that was better than his last prosthetic and thought she'd struck gold when she figured out Vizago had one sitting in storage. She haggled hard but eventually managed to pocket the rarity, and delivered it back to Ezra. Sabine helped modify it fit to properly, and to Ezra's delight he discovered that the hinges on this leg were motion activated, and could pack an even better punch (or kick) than his previous one.

Ezra hadn't really manage to curb his habit of using his leg as a weapon on occasion, and during such an incident ended up losing leg 2 (much to Hera's despair). Thankfully, Sabine had helped Ezra do enough maintenance on his last two legs that she was confident she could fix up some similar prototypes using her engineering skills. The spectres all contributed to a scrap box that would be used to build replacement legs whenever Ezra ended up losing or outgrowing one. All of them were very dedicated to scouting out parts for him and happy to help with maintenance.

At some point the rebellion had gotten large enough to start having a more organised healthcare system, and Ezra was offered a spot on the surgery waitlist for cybernetics. Ezra was initially hesitant, however, post the incident on Malachor he eventually agreed.

The cybernetic, although not the most advanced for it's time, is connected to his nerves giving him full mobility over the prosthetic. However, it came with it's own new quirks that took some getting used to. Detaching and Reattaching the cybernetic takes between 2-5 minutes to do, and often requires tools to help, rendering it no longer an option as a spontaneous mid battle weapon. As a result there was no longer need for him to cut holes in the left leg of his trousers either.

Ezra doesn't sleep with the cybernetic (same as one wouldn't with a prosthetic) cause it would be hella uncomfortable. On lazy days, he often goes without it, opting to use crutches around base instead. The cybernetic is waterproof, however, in both snow and sand it can sometimes become clogged and stiff, and may need extra maintenance after the mission is complete. The ghost crew is always willing to help pitch in with their engineering expertise (mainly Hera, Sabine and Chopper) or spare part gathering.

Anywho,,, yeah. I hope that sort of answers that question?? I'm not 100% familiar with how prosthetics and cybernetics work in the Star Wars universe so forgive me if some of this info doesn't check out. ( also if u see a spelling mistake,,, no u don't)

#star wars #ezra bridger #star wars rebels #sw rebels #hera syndulla #sabine wren #amputee ezra bridger #cybernetics #ty tidbit #asks #swr art #ghost crew #star wars fanart

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lichenes · 3 days

Text

Velvet Ring

There's only one bed! And nightmares choose to not let you live them down. Prompt by the lovely @smdb-joost :D

CW: nightmares, mutual pining<333, confessions, brief mention of kissin

wc: 800

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

“Shit, uhhh what do we do now?” Joost said as you both entered the room. “Uhh… I’m assuming I'm taking the floor?” He laughed.

Giving the fact that you and Joost have been friends for a long time you didn’t mind sharing a bed but when he suggested taking the floor, a small piece of you thought about all the ‘accidental’ touches, his sweet smiles which seemed only brighter when directed towards you and the way he looked at you when he was sure you weren’t. You hoped for the cheesy fantasy to come true so you could finally admit your feelings for him, hoping he’d reciprocate.

“So what’ll be?” You asked, leaving it up to him to decide. “The floor ‘s fine.” You felt your heart sink but you didn’t lose hope yet. You both showered, admittedly - separately and took your places.

“Goodnight!”

You were surrounded by your loved ones, your friends, yet- why… why did you feel so alone, so… unwanted. ‘What was it that gave you the idea to come here and ruin all of this for us?!’ You heard opting to not answer the remark and instead shield another part of yourself from others. ‘I can’t look at you anymore, you disgust me.’ Said a familiar voice which soon manifested as Joost’s form with a malevolent grin on his face. ‘You’re nothing.’

You gasped as your body rose to accomodate for the sudden pain which you couldn’t quite place as physical nor mental. You put your hand to your chest and realised you were heaving. Joost called your name from the foot of the bed. “What’s wrong?” You crawled from under the sheets towards him. “‘s nothing, just a n…” Your voice got stuck in your throat. “Nightmare.”

“D’you need to talk about it?” You looked at him with pleading eyes. “Can you please just hold me, please?”

You were both lying on the bed, his arm around your waist, both spent from the day you had. You were more tired than ever, trying to keep your eyes open just to feel Joost’s warmth for a moment more.With the other hand he was tracing lazy patterns into your scalp. “You know you can tell me anything…” He said clearly expecting something from you.

‘Not yet’ you thought. ‘Not just yet.’

“I know.”

You spent the rest of the night sleeping soundly. His strong arms gave away a pleasant heat which was comforting. You woke up feeling well rested which was a new but not an unwelcome feeling. “Hey, I just wanted to apologise for forcing you to comfort me yesterd- well, tonight.”

He grinned at you with his usual charming smile which made your face get just a bit hotter. “You really didn’t force me, I was just helping a friend out.” A friend? No. You were more than that. You were stars, the moon itself, the way aurora borealis casts itself over the night sky. How could he ever convey that through words?

He saw them, the signs of your affection. The silly presents, the small touches, the playlists full of his songs, the love that radiated from you. Yet still he was unsure of your intentions, your feelings.

Next night went about as well as it could’ve. Joost still on the floor invited you jokingly to join him on the floor and you, as a joke - of course - did. “It’s not very comfortable, don’t you want to get on the bed?” You both decided after a while that actually, your idea was brilliant.

You settled into the bed and so did Joost giving just enough space for the lord. You signed and scooted slightly towards him. He followed suit and put his arm around your waist staying mindful of your personal space so as to not scare you off. “Joost you can…” Your voice got stuck in your throat once more. “Alright!” He said enthusiastically, bringing you closer to himself. Your face got seriously hot when you could feel his breath on your neck and his eyes on you.

“Wanna tell me something?” He said as if he knew and could feel your growing anxiety. “Joost.” You started. “I’ve been…” You couldn’t speak, your knees went weak despite you laying down. “Joost. I lo-” He interrupted kissing you deeply. You reciprocated the kiss not wanting to lose another minute without his touch on your body.

The kiss left you breathless and he looked even more content when you pulled back. “I need you. I need you so badly in my life.” You said, sounding increasingly desperate. “You know I need you too.” You went back for another kiss. That night you spent in his arms, this time not by chance but choice. His voice still echoing in your ears ‘I need you too..’

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

masterlist

#x reader #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost klein fanfic #joost x reader #joost klein #eurovision 2024 #eurovision #fluff

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real-winn-dixie · 1 month

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Aaaaaa this thingie

10 notes and I’ll drink all my water

20 notes and I’ll make my bed

30 notes and I’ll try to compliment people I’m afraid of complimenting

40 notes and I’ll finish fault in our stars (my mom wanted me to read it, never finished it though)

50 notes and I’ll buy lemon demon vinyl

60 notes and I’ll put bandaids over my thumbs every day so I stop picking at the skin (genuine very big problem I have)

70 notes and I’ll try to call my friends more

80 notes and I’ll tell my friends when I don’t want to verbally speak (idk why I don’t want to verbally communicate when I’m upset tbh)

100 notes and I’ll talk more about the sillies (refer to @ask-the-sillies-in-the-head for more info)

150 notes and I’ll post some of my art

200 notes and I’ll take a mental health break (possibly for a few days)

250 notes and I’ll write the rough draft for my musical (will be on @ricky-writes-stuff)

300 notes and I’ll listen to the entire Weezer discography

350 notes and I’ll draw art of all the sillies in my head

400 notes and I’ll talk to someone new without trying to think of a script for the conversation

450 and I’ll read 10 pages of Crime and Punishment event day (it’s currently sitting on my shelf, unread)

I’ll add more when I think of more

DO NOT SPAM

I’ll let this get to people naturally, so i won’t @ anybody

Edit: got lazy waiting for people. I’ll @ two people, which will be @its-target-official and @operagxreal :3

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userlando · 11 months

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i am a starved woman with all the Lando content and.... the selfies ah... please if you can write some soft smut with him idk lazy riding him under the sheets while saying something funny, laughs interrupted with moans and all that intimate sex im weak for ma'am

ohhhh my god PLEASE I am a weak woman 💔

rustling sheets (1.7k words) lando norris/fem!reader fluffy smut nsfw

“Behave.” Lando says it lowly, jokingly with a sly smile on his lips that drives you just a little nuts.

You pout and pull your hand away, placing it in your lap as you continue staring at him. Maybe you’re hoping for him to finally give in, to disregard the fact that your hotel room is adjacent with George and Carmen and that management had managed to find a five star hotel for the entire grid to stay at, with the thinnest paper walls to ever exist.

Just a moment ago, you could hear the buzzing coming from George’s electric toothbrush and he’d already pounded his fist against the wall when you laughed a little too loudly at Lando’s ridiculous wet hair when he’d stepped out of the shower.

You’d tried to initiate sex two times now, but Lando had found your advances too funny to give in and so he’d made it his mission to give you the female equivalent to blue balls. Truth was, he was also a bit weirded out that you could hear everything through the walls because he made a lot of embarrassing noises when he was busy getting his rocks off.

Lando was loud and so were you, even if you claimed that you weren’t, and he wanted to be able to look his colleague in the eye tomorrow morning without thinking about how George knew what Lando sounded like when he came.

You were getting harder to resist though, sitting beside him in bed and looking so beautiful that he had to almost fist his hands to keep from reaching out to you. You were only in your pajamas, cotton blue ones that he was tempted to rip off of you because you were pouting. Like you'd reached for the cookie jar and he'd slapped your hand away.

He couldn’t see it, eyes staring a little too hard at his phone screen like he was reading something very interesting but he could very much feel your eyes boring into the side of his head.

“Lando?” You asked, the softness of your voice breaking the silence and Lando grunted.

“Yes, baby?” He tried to sound indifferent, casual and cool. Like he wasn’t growing hard at the gentle touch of your soft thigh against his.

You smirked, knowing that he was close to breaking his resolve because you could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Finding anything interesting?” You asked innocently and Lando glanced at you a little questioningly. You nodded your head at his phone in his hands.

“Oh.” He heaved a sigh. “Yeah, just reading some comments from fans on today’s quali.”

As if that’s more interesting than you. You almost rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep the sigh from escaping your lungs as you sat up in bed, tucking your legs under you with your body positioned in front of him. Lando wasn’t even sparing you a glance, and you wanted to get back at him so bad that you didn’t even give it a second thought as you hooked your fingers under the hem of your shirt and yanked it over your head.

Lando made a noise in his throat that sounded a lot like a dying animal grasping for its last breath, and you blinked at him in mock innocence. His eyes were as wide as saucers, unblinking as he stared at your tits unashamedly.

“What are you doing?” He asked in a whisper, voice high and cheeks flushing a pretty pink.

“What?” You asked, looking down at your chest like you couldn’t figure out why he was reacting the way he was. “I’m warm, and you know I hate sleeping with a shirt.”

“No you don’t.” Lando said immediately, because you almost always slept without trousers but not a shirt. You knew he was a boob man, and fuck were they looking good right now.

His resolve broke and he was just about to toss his phone to the side and reach for your waist when you sighed dramatically, clambering to pull the covers over you and settle into bed. Lando stared, perplexed when you turned your back to him.

“Well, I am now.” You said. “I’m going to sleep now, can you get the light, honey?”

Lando narrowed his eyes at the back of your head, because honey? Really? You were really playing with him now and he didn’t care one bit that your antics seemed to have the desired effect on him, dropping his phone somewhere and scooting down on the bed. He could spot the smile on your face when he spooned you, pressing his entire front body against your back and resting his chin on your shoulder.

You wiggled a little, feeling his hard on against your ass and Lando opened his mouth to bite your shoulder in retaliation. It made you squeal with a laugh, squirming to get away from him but he had an iron grip on your body, arms tightening to keep you in place.

“I changed my mind.” He rasped in your ear and you giggled when he nipped the sensitive skin under your earlobe.

He tugged lightly on your torso until you turned around, raising your head up to press a kiss to his lips. Lando exhaled through his nose, a delighted noise against your mouth as he pried it open in order to taste your tongue.

You pushed on his shoulder in a silent request to lay down, making an effort to straddle him and sit up but the covers got all tangled up with your legs and it set Lando off into a fit of laughter.

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m trying to be sexy.” You tried to pout but the smile on your face was hard to keep at bay because your boyfriend’s laughter was too contagious.

“Aw, baby.” He grinned, cheeks flushed as he reached for your head and brought you in for a kiss. “You’re still sexy to me.”

“Really?” You asked, like you weren’t straddling him and feeling every inch of his half-hard cock against your crotch. He must’ve had the same thought because his hips jutted up, making you gasp at the unexpected sensation. “Okay, I believe you.”

“Good girl.” He said, looking all too smug but he looked wildly hot as well and you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad when he tugged on the waistband of your shorts. “Now, take these off so I can fuck you silly.”

You scrambled to get them off, struggling with how you were sitting on top of Lando but he was nothing if not patient, holding back laughter until you were finally sat naked and pretty on his lap. His hand wandered down between your spread legs, fingers touching the wetness of your folds and pinching your clit just to hear you whimper.

Lando couldn’t take his eyes off of you as he got his fingers inside of you, stretching you out and allowing you to ride his fingers for a bit. You were in your own world, gasping and moaning beautifully for him with your torso all stretched out and tits on display. He blew out a breath, deeming you stretched out enough because if he waited for a moment longer, he was sure he’d blow in his joggers.

You pouted a little mournfully when he slipped his fingers out, but Lando didn’t miss the way your eyes lit up when he pushed his joggers and underwear off to get his cock out. He spit in his hand and slicked himself up as best as he could, but you were way more impatient than he was and it showed by the way you gripped him in your hand and guided him to your hole.

The moan you let out made Lando’s chest clench in absolute need, feeling him stretch you deliciously and you hunched forward to place both of your palms on his chest. The skin there whitened as you dug your fingertips into it, taking him to the base and quivering at the stretch and burn from the lack of lube.

You loved it though, moving your hips to establish a rhythm but Lando was quick to still you with his hands on your hips. You leaned your head forward to look down at him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“The bed is creaking.” He whispered, eyes a little glossy but wide. You laughed, grinding forward and immediately stopping when the bed gave off a protesting groan that you'd failed to notice earlier. “Fuck’s sake.”

You clenched around him, gasping when his hands dug into your hips.

“Don’t fucking do that.” He hissed, a desperation in his voice that made you smile.

You did it again, this time putting a little roll to your hips that had Lando’s eyelids fluttering shut as his eyes rolled back. He pressed the back of his skull against the pillow, the stretch of his exposed neck straining as he struggled to hold in his groan.

“What do you expect me to do?” You frowned, glancing at the floor beside the bed.

Lando followed your line of vision, eyebrows jumping like he just had a good idea. The unprepared squeal you let out was loud in the room when he turned the both of you around, pressing you into the bed and sucking kisses into your neck. It had you laughing and squirming under him, hands covering your face from the onslaught of attacks but he was quick to grab your wrists and pin them to the sides of your head.

“Want to shag on the floor?” He asked, lips brushing yours and you grinned up at him.

“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, Norris.” You pretended to fawn, giggling along with him when he dropped his weight on top of you.

Your hands quickly found their way under his joggers, gripping his bare arse cheeks in your palms and Lando groaned playfully against your cheek.

“What am I going to do with you?” He nuzzled his nose against your cheek and you smiled.

“I have a few ideas.” You whispered, pulling him against your body. “But we’ll need to be quick, before George puts his fist through the wall.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

let's pretend i didn't write this at work. but hey, i hope this is what you wanted anon! i had a lot of fun writing this, let me know what you think. ily all <3

#zee’s asks 💌#lando brainrot #lando norris #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x reader #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #lando norris blurb

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