#LIGHT FINGERS IS A NORMAL AMBITION

[thelovelyruin]

𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you’ve got a crush on choso, and he’s reading the signs.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : college au! smut, fluff, porn with plot, vaginal sex, oral sex, praise, teasing, overstimulation, fingering, edging?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 4.7K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from see you again (rock mafia remix) by miley cyrus.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, here I am with another choso fic. thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

I got my sights set on you, and I'm ready to aim.

“And, this is Choso!”

Now, you couldn’t remember whose idea it was to go to the fair (probably Yuuji), but at this moment, you were too grateful. To think you were going to miss out on this because you would’ve instead worked on classwork that was due NEXT week. Mai begged you to take a break, and you agreed to go like a good best friend. And thankfully, you did, cause if not, you would’ve never met him.

I have a heart that will never be tamed.

Choso was a little awkward. Nervous, for sure, but he had that demeanor that told you he was a lot more chill when he gets comfortable. Now the question was, why wouldn’t he be comfortable? That was, of course, because he was meeting you. Nonetheless, his ambition drove him to initiate a conversation with you, putting his anxiety on the back burner and acting “normal.”

“So, you’re Mai’s friend?”

Obviously, you were. A blush crosses your face, giving an awkward smile before looking at Mai. She understood immediately, face lighting up a bit when she realized you had the hots for him. With a smirk, she looked at him.

“Uh, yeah! She’s my best friend, can’t you tell?”

Choso directed his attention at Mai, giving her a squinted look. Not that he didn’t appreciate her, but he was already having a hard time talking to you, and she definitely wasn’t making it easy.

“Well, now I do. Thanks for the clarification, ma’am.”

“No problem, sir.”

She jabbed his arm, causing him to chuckle. Looking back at you, he smiled a bit.

“Hopefully, you aren’t as crass as your friend here.”

“I try not to be.”

“Hey, what the hell does that mean?”

You were giggling now, loosening up as you realized there wasn’t much to be nervous about. Choso was just a normal guy, a really hot, normal guy. That didn’t stop you from tucking your hair behind your ear nervously, it was so damn obvious you were flustered, but Choso was none the wiser.

I knew you were something special when you spoke my name; now I can't wait to see you again.

“Hey Choso! We’re heading over to the rides.”

Yuuji was now walking over to you guys, patting Choso on the back. When he noticed you standing there with Mai, his face lit up with surprise.

“So, Mai got you to come out and play! You do magic on her or something?”

“NO, I DID NOT. You guys are assholes, she came out on her own volition!”

Now, you and Yuuji have known each other for a while, but he’s just as irritating now as he was when you met him freshman year.

“I thought it would be fun to relax a bit and decompress from studying.”

Choso perked up at your comment, grateful to have something, anything, to work off of.

"Oh wow, what're you studying?"

Almost instantly, everyone’s eyes were on Choso. Mai looked at him intently, mostly in shock. You looked at him more relaxed, prepared to have a normal conversation with him. But Yuuji, as oblivious as usual, did not catch on to Choso trying to make conversation with you.

“Well, as much fun as this little chat is, I’ll be stealing Choso now. Inumaki and the others are waiting for us so we can ride a few rides.”

With that, Yuuji was hauling Choso with him to somewhere in the fair. But what you did not expect was Choso looking back at you, giving you a little wave, then turning to tell off Yuuji.

I've got a way of knowing when something is right.

“So, your friend…”

Mai shot the water into the target, attempting to get one of those oversized stuffed animals for the past ten minutes. When she lost again, she slammed another 5-dollar bill on the counter, demanding another turn.

“Yeah, you talkin’ about Choso?”

The game reset and she went to town. Mai was deadlocked on the target with the precision of a sniper. But, 30 dollars later, she finally won. Cheering and practically ripping the stuffed dino off the rack, she looked at you with sparkles; she was so damn proud of herself. After that, you two decided to get some fair food.

“Yeah, him.”

Pointing to the funnel cake stand, Mai dragged you closely behind her; you were attempting to catch up as fast as possible. She quickly ordered you guys a funnel cake; of course, the two of you had to share.

“You like him? I can totally tell. You looked like you were a pot about to boil over.”

You start scoffing, laughing nervously as you feign offense to her comment. But she really wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah, well, YOU say that! Do you think he noticed?”

"Babe, he totally noticed. Choso isn't the type to say something though, so whether he did or didn't, the world may never know."

You grab the funnel cake from the window, finding a picnic table to set up base. Mai was giving you that look now, that one she gives when she has an idea, and that’s never good.

“What the hell are you-”

“You know, he’s single. Haven’t seen him talk to a girl since freshman year, and that wasn’t very long.”

“Shouldn’t that be a red flag? What if he’s an asshole?”

“Oh, he’s far from that. If anything, I just think he can’t get laid to save his life. BUT, then there’s you.”

You avert your eye contact with Mai to the floor, too embarrassed to look at her.

“Look, you don’t have anything to worry about with him. He’s a nice guy and I’m sure he’d treat you well, in more ways than one.”

She winks at you as you jab her on the shoulder. As much as you loved her, she could be a pain in the ass, but as she would say, ‘your pain in the ass.’ 

I feel like I must've known you in another life, cause I felt this deep connection when you looked in my eyes.

After finishing the funnel cake, you guys walk about the fair, looking for another game to play, that is, until a set of hands comes in front of Mai’s eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Yuuji, get your paws off my face or I’m gonna beat your ass.”

With a pout, he lowered his hands, sneering at her when she turned around. As you turn to face him, you see Choso standing beside him, already looking at you. Reacting to the eye contact, he awkwardly puts a hand behind his neck.

“Uh, hey.”

“Hi, um… how were the rides?”

“They were good until Megumi and Inumaki threw up, so Todo drove them back to the dorms.”

Yuuji then looks around you and Mai, a confused look on his face.

“What about you guys? Where’s everyone else, or did Mai scare them off?”

“Yuuji, you’re on thin ice. We came by ourselves, GIRL’S night out.”

“Well, me and Choso are doing the same, isn’t that right?”

Choso looked at Yuuji like he had two heads.

“You mean when you badgered me for an hour so I’d come with you guys? Boy’s night out, for sure.”

You chuckled at Choso’s rebuttal, which didn’t go unnoticed by Yuuji. From that, Yuuji looked at Mai, who looked at you, then at Choso, prompting Yuuji to do the same.

“Well, what’s a little get-together, am I right?”

“Weren’t you just adamant about the boy's night out thing?”

“Yes, Choso, I was, but I’ve had a change of heart. They'll be riding the rollercoaster with us, isn’t that right, Mai?”

You shoot a panicked look at Mai, and simultaneously, Choso shoots the same to Yuuji.

“Yeah, Yuuji. You’re right. Let’s head over now.”

You and Choso’s eyes met, quickly blushing and averting your gaze. In that moment, you knew you were, to put it simply, down bad.

Now I can't wait to see you again.

The last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down.

Now, rollercoasters weren’t usually your thing, but when Mai gave you that puppy dog look, you couldn’t tell her no. She and Yuuji ran to the gate, leaving you and Choso behind to walk there, neither of you as excited as your friends.

“Looks like it’s a two-seater. Well, Mai, I think we should ride together!”

“You know what, Yuuji? That’s a great idea.”

You yanked at Mai’s sleeve, meeting her wide smile. The fuck are you doing? you whispered to her, still smiling in an attempt to act normal. Helping you out, duh, she whispered back, gently removing your hand from her shirt. As the ride attendant opened the gate, Yuuji and Mai flew to the front seat, leaving you and Choso on the bay.

“Is there, uh, anywhere in particular you want to sit?”

“The middle to back is fine!

With that, Choso guided you to a seat, holding your hand to help you sit in the cart. He sat down softly as you frantically looked for the seatbelt.

“Here, let me help you with-”

He noticed the harness sat right on top of your chest, which, if he wasn’t blushing before, he was completely flustered now. You both waited awkwardly for the ride attendant to strap you in.

I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I'm thinkin' 'bout.

Yuuji, extremely excited about the thrill of the ride, turned around and shot a thumbs-up at Choso. What did that mean? God, it was so obvious even Yuuji could tell. Or did Mai say something? They had been looking back and forth, which could be-

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

Well, you couldn't tell him the obvious answer, of course. You boggled your brain, trying to come up with a lie to say. But then he wrapped his arm behind your head, resting it on your neck. You were about to combust. You damn near shook with both anxiety AND rouse.

Felt like I couldn't breathe; you asked what's wrong with me.

“Somethin’ wrong? Sorry, I should’ve asked first.”

He began to retract his arm.

“No! I'm fine, you’re all good haha.”

You decided just to shut up and shoot him an awkward smile, preparing for the ride that began to take off.

“Good, can’t have you scared. Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.”

Oh, it was gonna be over soon, alright, because you were gonna pass out from the feeling of him bringing you into his chest.

The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself, my heart it can't rest 'til then.

You couldn’t get off that fuckin’ ride quick enough. You unbuckle yourself swiftly, running over to Mai, who was still talking to Yuuji.

“Hey there! How was the ride?”

“It was great, but I think we should really get going!”

She looked at you in concern, then at Choso walking up behind you guys, and then at Yuuji, who was confused per usual. Before Choso could walk up, you put your head down and walked down the bay, stopping at the ride's exit. 

“M’kay, bye!”

You were too embarrassed from getting all worked up over an arm; you couldn’t even face him. Mai stood there talking to both Yuuji and Choso, obviously upset, with Choso putting his hand up in a confused motion. God, this was torture. After a couple of minutes, Mai walked up to you, patting you on your back. And with that, you guys went back to your dorm.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again.

I got this crazy feelin' deep inside when you called and asked to see me tomorrow night.

You had just got in bed for the night, still coming down from the roller coaster, both the physical and emotional one. What were you doing? It was a perfect opportunity to talk to him, and you screwed it up. Now, he’s probably-

You’re interrupted from your thoughts by your phone ringing. You take it off the charger and turn down the brightness, reading the screen. A random number? This late? You almost declined the call, but then the asshole in you had the idea to answer and give the night caller a piece of your mind. You click the green button, putting your phone up to your ear, an arsenal of insults on standby.

“Who is this? You know it’s 11 p.m., right?”

“Oh, um, sorry. It’s Choso. Didn't realize it was so late, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Your heart dropped to your ass. Choso? How the hell did he get your number? Then, it struck you, when he and Mai talked on the bay. You shift your whole mood from threatening to weak in the knees.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! Sorry, thought you were a scam caller.”

“Yeah, I guess I could’ve texted you first. Happy you still accepted the call, though.”

“So, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to, uh, apologize for earlier. Wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable or anything like that.”

You began pacing around the room, trying to keep quiet and not wake Mai.

“Oh, no, I just, um, it was nothing, I was just, um…”

“I was nervous, too, to be honest. I mean, I was scared I blew my chances with you.”

You stalled your movements in disbelief at what you had just heard.

“I don’t think I, uh heard you right, could you-”

“Can I take you out tomorrow night?”

You had to turn off the mic; you couldn’t help but scream into your pillow. After gaining composure, you turned the mic back on.

“What did you have in mind?”

“How’s a movie? Yuuji said you wanted to watch that new one, Human Earthworm 3, I think?”

So, Yuuji had said something to him. To be fair, they were brothers, so that would happen eventually, but you felt something itch inside you at the thought of all the things Yuuji could have said.

“So, uh, is that a yes?”

“Oh! Um, yeah, I mean, yes, sure. What time?”

“Be ready at 6.”

You were about to begin jumping around like a goddamn maniac.

“Okay, got it.”

“Okay, see you, tomorrow, angel.”

Before he hung up the phone, you could hear Yuuji cheering in the background. What the actual fuck just happened. Like clockwork, Mai jumped up, smirking. She’d been awake this whole time.

“So, he had the balls to ask you! I wasn’t expecting that one.”

I'm not a mind reader, but I'm reading the sign that you can't wait to see me again.

Now, it’s not like you were super excited about the date or anything. Not when you started getting ready at 12 despite you needing to be ready at 6, or when you repainted your nails, or when you waxed yourself, or when you were asking Mai which outfit you should wear. 

“Trust me, whatever you wear, he’s gonna like it. He’s happy to even be dating you!”

She had a point.

“But Maiiiii, what if he doesn’t like these jeans?”

“Weren’t you wearing jeans when you met him?”

“Ugh, shut up!”

“Whatever ya want, sweetheart.”

You decided to just go for a black dress, which was pretty short, but, come to think of it, wasn’t really a bad idea. But then, what shoes were you gonna wear? Which purse would-

Your phone lit up, a text from Choso.

“Outside :)”

Shit, it was six already. You started to panic, looking for anything else you were missing. As you turn around, Mai’s holding a pair of sneakers and a purse to match. You squeal and kiss her on the cheek, rushing to put your sneakers on as you stumbled out the door.

The last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down.

As you walked down the stairs, you began freaking out. You were about to be alone with Choso for hours, which you were fucking ecstatic about, but you realized you didn’t have the balls for this. But then, you get a thought from Mai, ‘Get it together, bitch!’

Damn it, why was she always right??? Not wanting to make him wait any longer, you sucked it up and walked outside. Choso leaned against his car, wearing a basic black tee covered by an aviator jacket with a pair of cuffed jeans. Damn, he looked good. Little did you know, he was thinking the same about you. That little black dress had him staring, mind trying to picture what might be underneath. You walked up to him quickly, holding your purse awkwardly, noticing his gaze checking you out. 

“You look great.”

“Thanks, not too bad yourself.”

You had to contain yourself. Like who, me? You send him a flirty smile as he opens the car door for you, going under his arm to get in the seat.

“You smell damn good too.”

The movie was pretty okay; not like you were really paying attention, though. When you guys sat down in the movie, Choso expectedly draped his arm around you, pulling you close to lay on his chest. What really sent you over the edge was halfway through the movie, when he brought his arm lower, slinking it around your waist, hand resting on your hip. He was dangerously close to your ass, there was that fine, fine line, and he was skating on it, making sure not to move too much in case he did cross that line cause the last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable again. After what felt like a year, the movie was over, and people spilled out of the theatre, clearly a full house. You and Choso were stragglers, only a handful of people still sitting around, and when he noticed, he brought his arm back over, nearly making you cry at the retreat. 

I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I'm thinkin' 'bout.

“How’d you like it?”

“It was okay, not as good as the first one. What about you?”

“I haven’t seen the other ones, but it was pretty good!”

Choso stood up, taking a big stretch after sitting for so long. Your eyes immediately caught the slight lift in his shirt, his v-line and lower abs flexed as he groaned a bit, and fuck, it sounded good. He brought his hand down, encouraging you to take it, pulling you up, and putting his hand back around your waist. He held it firm, guiding you out of the theater and back to the car, helping you inside. You were dreading the fact the date was coming to an end; you had to think of something to prolong-

Choso’s phone rings, Yuuji’s contact picture illuminating the screen. With a deep sigh, he answers it.

“What?”

“I take it you’re still out?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Well, bad news. I locked myself out of the room. Can you come here and let me in?”

“I’m on a date, motherfucker.”

“Oh yeah. Bring her with you!”

“Jesus Christ.”

Choso mutes the mic, looking at you. Now, you weren’t exactly looking forward to seeing Yuuji, but spending more time with Choso was your prerogative. You give him a nod and a smile, and his annoyance fades slightly. Unmuting the phone, he rolls his eyes.

“Be there in 10.”

“Thank youuuu!”

“Fuck off.”

The ride back to their dorm was pretty fast, but it was hard to think with Choso’s hand rubbing your thigh. Once again, skating on that fine line of nearly touching a little too far up your dress, but thankfully for the both of you, he had some self-control. Your presence was eating at him, though; every time you smiled, he couldn’t help but stare at your lips or look at your ass as you walked before him, exiting the theater. Thank god your dress covered your chest, cause he’s pretty sure that would’ve killed him too.

You waited for him to open the car door, second nature, to feel his hand on your side. Yuuji sat in one of the chairs in the lobby, perking up at the sight of you guys walking through, then pouting.

“You guys took forever to get here!”

“It was 13 minutes.”

Choso, tired at this point, walked the two of you upstairs to their room. He unlocked the door with annoyance, letting Yuuji and you walk in. 

“So, where did you put your keys? I’m not unlocking it again.”

Yuuji walked to the door and stepped outside, rummaging through his pocket and conveniently pulling out his keys.

“Look, they were here all along! That’s so crazy, haha.”

When you and Choso realized what had happened, it was already too late. Yuuji had since locked the door behind him, hearing him laugh as he walked down the hall.

“That fucker had his keys the whole time. Why am I not surprised?”

“Because it’s Yuuji we’re talking about here.”

Choso took a deep exhale and sighed.

Felt like I couldn't breathe, you asked what's wrong with me.

“Sorry about the unnecessary detour, I can go ahead and-”

You brought his lips to yours experimentally, him pulling back to look at you. Damn, you were nervous, but the lack of touch and the lust had completely taken over you, you knew what you wanted, and it was him. You kiss him firmly, pushing him back onto the bed. Instantly, Choso picked your legs up and placed them on either side of him, positioning you in his lap as he kissed you back. All he could seem to do was touch you, exploring your body, hands groping everything he touched. 

Out of his mind, horny, he brought your hips down to grind against his, feeling his dick rub against you through his pants, making you moan softly. He was becoming hungry, hands climbing up your dress to unclip your bra, bringing your clothed nipple into his mouth. Indulging in the little moans he pulled out of you was nice, but Choso was fucking selfish. He wasted no time flipping you over so your back lay against the bed, opening your thighs to position himself between them. That little black dress? Choso had stripped it from you, along with that bra, somewhere on the floor of his room. Now, Choso wasn’t a virgin, but the way he stared at your topless body would make it seem like he’s never seen a pair of tits before.

“You’re so damn pretty.”

He brought his shirt over his head, discarding it and his jeans, thinking your panties should go too, but you looked damn good in that thong. So, why not have a little fun? Choso pulled up your panty line, making your thong outline your pussy, soaked lips spilling out the sides, but not quite enough that you were fully exposed. Rubbing your clit through the fabric, you were getting so wet that your thong was soaked in your pre-cum. Wished he had a photographic memory, because he was in love with the sight he got to see when he decided to be nice and finally strip you of your panties. You were on full display to him, and like a siren, you brought your fingers down to spread your lips for him, inviting him to touch you in some way. He had something way better than that; trust. Cause at this point, he was flipping you on top of him, bringing your hips up to him so he could taste his your pussy on his face. You hesitated at first, scared you were gonna suffocate him, but with one look at his face, you knew he didn’t give a fuck. He brought your hips down so your pussy landed on his tongue, then it was go time. Sucking, licking, kissing, he was doing everything he could, addicted to your taste and scent. God, your pussy was delicious. He almost damned Yuuji and Mai for taking this long to introduce you to him. For taking so long to let him date you. For taking so long to let him please you. 

“Choso, fuck!”

He was feining for it, the way you were moaning his name like a prayer, and his mouth was something to believe in. That’s why you started gripping his headboard, shamelessly grinding your pussy across his face as you feel your orgasm approaching. You look down at him with those pretty doe eyes, and when they meet his, he starts licking your clit, flapping his tongue as he drew circles around it. Every cycle, every rotation, it was too much.

“I-I-”

You didn’t have to finish that sentence. Knew the second he felt your pussy spasm against his tongue, cumming in his mouth as he continued pleasing you, gripping your hips so you couldn’t move as you rode out your high. Finally, when you started whimpering from overstimulation, he decided to let you go, but you weren’t getting off that easy. Within seconds, Choso had you on your back, legs wide open, as he slid his dick inside your pussy.

The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself.

You honestly didn’t know you could cum that hard, let alone moan that loudly; so grateful the room next to them was vacant. But it wasn’t until Choso started fucking you slowly that you were losing yourself. He wanted to give you some time to adjust, but you were just so damn sexy, pretty face with an even prettier-

“More, please.”

He was hearing things, for sure. There was no way you were begging him to fuck you, but he fuckin’ liked it.

“More what? Tell me.”

“Fuck me, Choso.”

He didn’t have time to tease you anymore; his dick was aching so bad it could shatter. So, he gave you exactly what you wanted. At first, he kept a steady pace, gripping the sides of your pillow as his hips made you arch your back into him, but fuck, he needed wanted more. 

“I’m gonna fuck you a little faster now, that okay?”

��Yes, baby, just give it to me.”

Jesus, you were just trying to drive him insane. That pretty voice of yours calling him baby, he was already grateful you agreed to go on that date with him, but he didn’t expect this to happen (he was hoping he’d fuck you after the second or third date). He sat back on his legs as he lifted your hips to take him deeper, making you repeatedly groan his name. But, nothing could prepare you for how he began fucking you, fast and deep; he fucked you like he needed you, like he fuckin’ craved you. He couldn’t keep your name out of his mouth when he felt your pussy pulling him back in again every time he fell back to fuck you deeper. He started daydreaming about you a bit, what your next date would be like, seeing you every day, walking you to class, and then fucking you after you two completed classwork. The sound of your juices spilling out of your pussy onto his dick snapped him out of it, relishing in the sounds of your wetness and the claps of your ass every time he brought your body onto his. You felt so damn good, bringing your fingers up to touch his chest as he looked you in the eyes. And every time you looked away, he brought a hand up to put your eyes back on his. Because he needed to see how his dick made you feel and show you how good your pussy was taking it. 

“I gotta cum baby, need you to cum for me first.”

He pulled out, laying down to eat your pussy again, rutting his dick into his sheets. And when he made you cum for the second time, he slipped back inside, feeling your pussy pulsing with the waves of your orgasm. He came to the sounds of you squealing his name, your pussy milking him for all he’s worth.

My heart, it can't rest 'til then.

That was the best sex the two of you had ever had. It left you both panting, backs on the bed, mind hazy. Choso looked over at you, watching your tits rise and fall with every breath you took; he had to look away before he fucked you again, not that he wouldn’t mind. You looked up at him with those pretty doe eyes, and he swore he would melt. He brought you up to him, kissing you softly as he pulled a blanket over the two of you. You laid your head on his chest, following with his arm wrapping around your back and waist.

“So, wanna go on another date?”

Oh, I can't wait to see you again.

♱ the song used in this story is see you again (rock mafia remix) by miley cyrus. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

#choso x reader #chosoxreader #choso x female reader #choso x fem!reader #choso x f!reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso fluff #choso fanfic #choso fic #choso kamo #kamo choso #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk choso #choso #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #thelovelyruin #thelovelyarcana #Spotify

[many-shades-of-violence]

getting drunk with them I Corazon, Law, Doflamingo, Smoker, Ace, Sabo

✢ content: fluff, suggestive themes, alcohol consumption

✢ characters: Corazon, Law, Doflamingo, Smoker, Ace, Sabo

Corazon is a light-hearted and affectionate drunk. He becomes even more talkative and open when he's had a few drinks.

He's the type to get lost in nostalgic stories of his marine days, or talk about his dreams and aspirations with you and little Law.

He might start singing or humming, and if you join in, he'd be absolutely delighted.

As a caring drunk, he's prone to giving you lots and lots of compliments, reminding you how much you mean to him. He might pull you into his lap or snuggle up to you, searching for the warmth of your body while he rests his head on your shoulder.

Corazon is also likely to pull you into slow, clumsy dances, and you'd both end up laughing as you navigate his tipsy waltz, being careful, so he doesn't trip over his long legs.

Law's usual stoic demeanor takes a backseat when he's drunk. He becomes surprisingly expressive, much more relaxed, and most surprisingly, a lot more handsy.

He tends to lean into his playful and mischievous side, making witty comments and teasing you in a way that only a drunk Law can. If there's strong booze involved, he might even slip a hand along your thighs, giving them a firm yet loving grip.

Law might get a bit sentimental as well, sharing his deeper thoughts and feelings with you, which is a rare sight.

He'd challenge you to drinking games, displaying his competitive streak while still maintaining his cool facade.

If you get too drunk, Law would take on a protective role, ensuring you're safe, comfortable, and well-hydrated.

Doflamingo's already flamboyant and unpredictable personality becomes even more amplified when he's had a few drinks.

He's likely to be the life of the party, engaging you with his charismatic way of talking and flashy dance moves.

Doflamingo's sense of humor gets a bit eccentric and twisted, often sharing dark jokes or anecdotes with a cheeky grin on his lips.

He enjoys being the center of attention, but he'd also make sure to dote on you and show you off to everyone around.

Doffy's already "horny on main," but a drunk Flamingo might be another challenge. He'd never overstep your boundaries, but you might have to reprimand him more than once when you find slim fingers cupping your ass.

Smoker is a quiet and introspective drunk. He tends to sit back and observe the surroundings, lost in thought.

He becomes a bit more sentimental when you're around, often expressing his genuine affection for you and how much he appreciates you in his life.

Smoker might share stories from his past that he normally keeps to himself, allowing you a glimpse into his life before the Marines.

He's not one for grand gestures, but he'll subtly make sure you're comfortable and have everything you need for the night-out.

Smoker's tough exterior softens a bit when he's had a few drinks, and he might even crack a small, rare smile from time to time, especially when you're also a bit tipsy, inviting you to stay over at his place to know you're safe.

Ace is a fun-loving and energetic drunk. He's constantly moving and looking for the next adventure.

He'd likely challenge you to various games or dares, trying to see who can handle their liquor better.

Ace's laugh becomes even more contagious, and he'll find just about anything hilarious, ensuring a good time for the two of you.

He might get a bit touchy-feely, always looking for excuses to wrap his arm around you or hold your hand.

When the night winds down, Ace would be the type to suggest stargazing or a late-night walk, wanting to make the most of your time together.

Sabo is a sweet and affectionate drunk. He becomes incredibly attentive to you, making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself.

He's likely to initiate deep conversations, discussing everything from dreams and ambitions to the meaning of life.

Sabo's protective nature might become more pronounced, and he'd keep a watchful eye on you when you've had one glass too many.

He's a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, so he might get tipsy quickly, leading to a lot of adorable behavior.

#one piece #op #sabo #sabo x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace #smoker #smoker x reader #doffy #donquixote doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #corazon #corazon x reader #donquixote rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante #my stuff #writing #headcanons

[starrierknight]

𝟎𝟎𝟕. 𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ 'Cause I'm all that you want, boy / All that you can have, boy / Got me spread like a buffet / Bon a—, bon appétit, baby — Katy Perry, Bon Appétit

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 7.2k

pairing— rough!dom!gn!reader x needy!sub!gojo

cws/tags— flatmates to fuckers, foodplay (melted chocolate), masochist satoru, finger sucking/face fucking, oral fixation, biting & gagging, petnames (“sweet thing” & “sugar”), spit kink, semi-clothed sex, reader is AFAB & wears a skirt + panties but isn’t gendered, oral (reader receiving), unprotected p in v

You stood in the dimly lit apartment's kitchen, a soft glow emanating from the pendant lights overhead, casting a warm ambience over the space. Positioned in front of the sleek, marble-topped island, you rested your hands on your hips, frustration evident in your furrowed brow.

In the midst of this culinary battlefield, three small bowls sat before you, each containing once-promising chocolate that had succumbed to the unpredictable art of tempering. The rich aroma still lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle notes of vanilla from earlier attempts. The chocolate, normally a delight, now seemed to mock your culinary ambitions.

As you peered down at the bowls a sense of disappointment washed over you, knowing that the dream of presenting homemade Halloween chocolates had met an untimely demise. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, a mixture of frustration and resignation, as you brought your hand up to rub the tense muscles at the back of your neck. The dream of crafting perfect, glossy chocolates for the spooky season had slipped through your fingers. 

Satoru, your affable and easygoing flatmate, stepped into the room, the soft fabric of his customary loungewear draped loosely over his athletic frame. The dim lighting of the apartment accentuated the subdued tones of his grey sweatpants and the way the black compression t-shirt clung to his physique, emphasising the sinewy contours of his muscled form. Each movement he made seemed to embody a sort of graceful confidence, a testament to his inherent athleticism.

However, as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen, an air of concern etched itself onto his handsome features. His normally unwavering composure faltered upon encountering your sour expression, directed toward the trio of pitiable bowls harbouring the remnants of your chocolaty struggle.

The scent, thick and enveloping, wafted through the room, a bittersweet reminder of the culinary clash that had taken place. He chose to remain still, absorbing the atmosphere and discerning the unspoken frustration that hung in the air.

You managed an awkward smile, a mixture of sheepishness and embarrassment colouring your expression.

"A failed experiment," you clarified, attempting to lighten the mood. "Any chance you have a sweet tooth?"

Satoru hesitated for a brief moment, contemplating the question. His curiosity got the better of him as he stepped closer to the kitchen island to inspect the unfortunate outcome of your chocolate endeavour. Extending a hand, he scooped a bit of the still-warm milk chocolate with his finger, eyeing it thoughtfully.

After a few contemplative moments, he turned to you with a playful yet polite inquiry, "D'you mind?"

You shrugged, your gaze shifting back to the three bowls with a resigned acceptance.

"Have at it. I can't have all of this by myself," you conceded, gesturing toward the bowls.

Finding a sense of shared amusement in the situation, you followed suit and dipped your own finger into the bowl containing the melted dark chocolate. Bringing it to your lips, you sampled the richness of the chocolate, the bittersweet taste momentarily distracting you from the earlier disappointment. 

Satoru's eyes, a vivid shade of blue that often held a sense of calm and composure, suddenly lit up with a spark of excitement—He had been granted permission to indulge in a long-awaited craving. Without hesitation, he dipped his fingers into the velvety pool of melted dark chocolate, his movements deliberate yet filled with a childlike enthusiasm.

As he brought his chocolate-coated fingers to his lips, his tongue skillfully sweeping away the decadent layer, the rosy hue of his lips contrasted beautifully with the rich darkness of the chocolate. 

He froze.

His sapphire eyes widened, locking onto the sight of you licking your own finger clean of the dark chocolate. A curious realisation washed over his expression, and a flicker of something deeper, something like a revelation, danced in his gaze.

Seizing the last remnants of the dark chocolate, you adeptly licked your finger clean, sampling the taste before moving on to the bowl of melted white chocolate. With a dip of your finger, you retrieved a dollop and raised it to your lips, tasting the creamy sweetness.

A hum escaped you, followed by a subtle wrinkling of your nose. "I'm not a big fan of white chocolate. Too sweet," you remarked, your taste buds delivering their verdict.

Satoru, still fixated on observing this simple act, the way you interacted with the chocolate, nodded in acknowledgement at your assessment. His face carried an intense curiosity, as if a peculiar notion was taking shape within his mind. However, he chose to keep it unspoken, opting to silently study you.

You shifted your position, perching on the kitchen island near the array of chocolate-filled bowls, anticipating that this impromptu chocolate-tasting session might extend for a while.

"D'you like white chocolate?" you inquired.

Satoru paused his indulgence for a moment, his lips still adorned with a delicate coat of chocolate. He nodded in response to your question, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, though his unwavering gaze remained locked onto you. With a casual ease, he delved into the white chocolate, his eyes staying fixed on you as he licked his finger clean.

"Y'know, since I moved in, I've noticed that you have a bit of a sweet tooth," you remarked, beginning to ramble. "I'm not surprised you like white chocolate. I mean, it has so little cocoa in it... Can it even be called chocolate, d'you think?"

Satoru's attention remained steadfastly fixed on you, his expression pensive as if pondering your words. His gentle smile conveyed an understanding, and his fingers absentmindedly weaved through his fluffy white hair while he took in your observations.

In a moment of quiet contemplation, he finally broke the silence, his voice soft but purposeful in its delivery. "Do you... Do that a lot?"

You looked at him, the question catching you slightly off guard. "Do what?" you inquired, a hint of amusement in your tone, as you dipped your finger into the inviting bowl of melted milk chocolate this time.

"Licking your fingers," he clarified, his voice carrying a subtle playfulness accompanied by a knowing smile. "Licking your fingers clean."

Your laughter danced through the air. "Sure, when there's melted chocolate involved... You'd be crazy not to, y'know?" 

Satoru continued to gaze at you with a gentle, almost dreamy smile, as if captivated by the act of you enjoying the chocolate. His demeanour carried a sense of reverence, akin to admiring a work of art. However, suddenly snapping out of this trance-like reverie, a subtle blush adorned his cheeks as he averted his gaze.

He cleared his throat and hummed, the sound breaking the quietness that had settled between you two. "Is that a habit of yours?"

You tilted your head to the side, considering his question as you had the remnants of chocolate, culminating in a soft 'pop' as you removed your finger from your mouth.

"If I had enough melted chocolate, then I could make it one," you mused.

Satoru's interest visibly piqued, and with a deliberate movement, he drew closer, inching towards you. His gaze remained fixed on you, observing with a gentle intensity as you continued to enjoy the chocolate. As he reached your side, he leaned with self-conscious nonchalance against the kitchen island.

Caught in the allure of the moment, Satoru's gaze remained fixed on your lips, captivated by the simple act of you licking your finger. The gentle rise of heat within him went unnoticed, overshadowed by his complete and unwavering focus on you, and the delicate sound of that 'pop’.

With a deep breath, drawn slow and deliberate, he collected his thoughts, grappling with a desire to express something that lay just beyond the surface. His voice, almost a whisper, emerged from within, barely audible but charged with unspoken sentiment. "Your tongue."

"Hm?"

Satoru nodded towards your lips, his words carrying a delicate weight, almost as if he were posing a question. 

"Your tongue," he whispered again, this time as if gently seeking understanding, his hand tentatively lifting toward your face, but hesitated mid-motion.

Your bemused expression remained intact as you pushed the bowl of white chocolate towards Satoru, ignoring the subtle undercurrents of the moment. "Yeah, I have one. Eat up, I can't finish all this by myself.”

Satoru's gaze shifted from the yearning in his eyes to one of unadulterated delight, like a child left unattended in a sweet shop. 

"Thanks," he said. With the same childlike enthusiasm, he dipped his finger into the white chocolate and licked it clean, relishing the creamy sweetness.

With a subtle shift, he moved the bowl closer to your side. His finger then dipped into the dark chocolate bowl, and he held it out to you, looking up with a gentle, inviting expression. Your smile remained genuine as you dipped your finger into the dark chocolate, indulging in its rich taste. As you licked your finger clean, indulging in the chocolatey delight, you noticed Satoru's presence, his gaze focused on the act with a kind of intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His deep hum of pleasure only added to the charged atmosphere, making you acutely aware of his fixation on your lips, your tongue, the movement of every gesture.

For Satoru, this innocent act held a captivating allure, his eyes ensnared by the graceful motion of your tongue, the way your finger was slowly inserted into your mouth, coated by a mix of saliva and chocolate. The heat within him surged, the internal struggle to maintain composure becoming more challenging with each passing moment. 

You dipped the corner of your thumb into the white chocolate bowl and confirmed your earlier assessment with a wrinkled nose.

"Nope. Still far too sweet," you murmured in good-natured complaint, aiming an accusatory glare at the offending bowl.

Satoru's focus remained intense, the proximity between the two of you forgotten. He took a deep breath, attempting to steady the rising tide of emotions that threatened to betray his composure. In a soft, barely audible whisper, he let out his unspoken admiration, a phrase that held a tenderness akin to an awe-filled sigh. 

"So pretty," he breathed, his lips forming a gentle, almost childlike smile.

"Did you say something?" you asked, momentarily distracted by your thoughts.

Satoru tore his gaze away from you and mumbled an apologetic, "Nothing."

He sought solace in the act of dipping his finger into the milk chocolate. The taste of chocolate melted on his taste buds, prompting a soft sigh of satisfaction as he closed his eyes. After a brief hesitation, he whispered, "Can I have more?"

His attention still captured by the subtle movements of your lips, he wrestled with the longing to taste your smile. The internal flames of desire roared, the struggle to maintain restraint growing more intense, and it was a miracle he hadn’t melted into a puddle of lust-sick goo.

"Sure, go ahead. I've got too much, and I don't wanna waste it," you replied casually, "I was gonna make some chocolates for Halloween, but I messed up tempering the chocolate, so they wouldn't come out right."

Satoru's attention was entranced, his senses consumed by the choreography of your speech. The movement of your lips, the delicate dance of your tongue against your teeth, the mesmerising gestures of your fingers—every nuance held a captivating allure for him. His gaze lingered on your lips, caught in the magnetic pull of your eyes and the subtle curves of your mouth as you spoke. Each syllable seemed to ripple through the air, carrying a delicate beauty that intoxicated him. Oh, how he yearned to draw closer and drink you in, to taste you and to feel you.

You dipped two fingers into the bowl of dark chocolate, the rich, velvety substance clinging to your digits as you simultaneously lifted them to your lips and expertly licked them clean with the graceful sweep of your tongue.

You broke the silence that had enveloped the kitchen. "Are you more of a sweets person or a chocolate person?"

As Satoru reflected on your question, his mind wandered back to a distant memory, a recollection of a fateful evening many years ago. It was the night his parents had finally allowed him to venture outside the Gojo family estate to experience the joy of Trick-or-Treating for the first time. That night had left an indelible mark on him, igniting a lifelong love for sweets of all kinds, and the memory of that sugar rush had stayed with him throughout the years. Satoru had always been known for his adoration of sweets; The answer was sweets.

"Chocolate," he said softly, his gaze remaining fixated on your lips.

"Yeah, same here. Nothing beats chocolate, y'know?" 

Satoru's attention remained captivated by the mesmerising movements of your tongue and lips. He observed the way your lips puckered subtly as you cleaned some milk chocolate from your thumb, the simple act imbued with an unintentional allure. So engrossed was he in this subtle spectacle that he leaned closer to you, drawn in by the magnetic pull of you.

As Satoru leaned closer, your laughter, soft and delightful, broke through the air, the sound music to his ears.

"You have a little somethin'," you pointed out, your grin warm and inviting as you nodded towards him.

He felt a pleasant warmth surge through him as he absorbed your cute smile, the contours of it, and the way it seemed to brighten the room. Realising what you meant, he couldn't help but form a small line with his lips, a faint blush gracing his cheeks. Stepping back slightly, a hint of bashfulness crept into his demeanour, though his fascination with you lingered.

"Aren't you gonna clean it off, or is it a new look for you?" you teased with a chuckle, pointing to the corner of his mouth where a smudge of milk chocolate remained.

Satoru's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and amusement as he quickly wiped the corner of his mouth clean.

"New look," he mumbled, trying to maintain a playful demeanour despite the warmth that had crept into his face.

Suppressing a laugh, you couldn't help but add: "You missed a spot."

His embarrassment grew as he hurriedly wiped his mouth again, and his response carried a slightly sharp tone. "There. Happy now?"

As his gaze met yours again, it travelled down your neck, fixating on the curve of your shoulder with an undeniable longing. 

A gasp of surprise escaped Satoru as you took matters into your own hands, or rather, your thumb. Feeling the soft pad of your thumb brushing against the corner of his lips, he momentarily lost himself in the sensation, the brief touch sending a shiver through his body. A soft, quiet moan that escaped him.

You efficiently cleaned the melted chocolate, and then with a playful flair, brought your thumb to your mouth, licking it clean. "There. Now you're all good."

Satoru was left slightly breathless, the warmth of the interaction lingering on his lips.

The air in the kitchen crackled with a newfound energy as you dipped your finger into the white chocolate, purposefully smearing a bit onto your lips, a playful innuendo that hung in the air. 

Satoru chuckled, his eyes fixated on the white chocolate smeared across your lips, the sight igniting a fiery heat within him. His gaze was intense, captivated by the way you licked your lips clean, a soft hum of awe escaping him.

He raised his own finger, dipping it into the white chocolate. Instead of smearing, he chose a different path, bringing his finger to his lips and licking the chocolate clean with deliberate precision. His eyes remained locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze reflecting the overwhelming desire to be closer to you, to taste your sweetness, to let his tongue be a messenger of longing. 

Satoru's anticipation was palpable as he watched you dip your thumb into the dark chocolate bowl. A smile gracing his lips as you cupped his jaw in your hand, the connection between you growing more profound with each passing moment. He closed his eyes, surrendering.

As the tip of your chocolate-coated thumb brushed against his mouth, a deep, shaky breath escaped him, his body trembling. With eyes still closed, he opened his mouth, inviting the sweet temptation within. Your thumb slipped between his lips, and his tongue curled around it, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body.

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with an intensity that mirrored the rising desire within him. He sucked on your thumb, a soft, low moan escaping his parted lips as he savoured the taste of the dark chocolate. His mouth remained wrapped around your thumb, your fingers caressing the back of his head, adding to the intoxicating sensations that enveloped him. His body quivered with a fervour, his tongue darting out to lick away the chocolate, creating a soft, wet sensation that sent waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.

Satoru tilted his head, his tongue wrapping around your thumb with a gentle intensity. The sensations that coursed through you were titillating, the intimacy of the moment leaving you both breathless. He continued to suck, using his tongue to expertly remove the melted dark chocolate, the soft, wet sucking noise adding a seductive cadence to the air. As your thumb emerged clean, a rush of satisfaction swept over him.

You delicately slid your thumb out of his mouth, and in a hushed murmur, you inquired, "How'd it taste?"

Satoru's eyes remained fixed on your thumb, still moist from the encounter. A slight smile of satisfaction graced his lips as he studied the string of saliva between his lips and your thumb. He inhaled the lingering aroma. Swallowing, his voice emerged as a quiet rasp, carrying a raw honesty. "Like you."

"Good, then?"

"Good," he murmured as he swallowed again.

As Satoru gently pressed your thumb against his lips, letting it rest there, a gentle sigh escaped him. The touch was a buzz, the taste of chocolate mingled with the essence of you.

Your thumb brushed against his lower lip. The desire within him surged, and the restraint he held onto began to slip. His swirling blue eyes, intense and craving, remained locked onto yours. Unable to resist the allure, Satoru softly sucked on your thumb, the pleasure of the act unmistakable. A soft moan escaped him, his body trembling.

With your free hand, you dipped your fingers into the melted dark chocolate, smearing the rich, velvety substance against Satoru's pale cheek. The contrast between the dark chocolate and his fair skin was a strinking sight—though, rather than marring him, it only made him look all the more mouth-watering. Leaning closer, your tongue pressed to his cheek, tracing a deliberate stripe across the soft skin. The taste of him mingled with the bitter chocolate—a sensual fusion. 

He felt an earnest heat surge through him as your tongue left a searing mark on his cheek, his eyes closing once more. With a growing hunger, he pulled your thumb deeper into his mouth, savouring the taste. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he drew closer, standing between your legs as you sat on the kitchen island. 

He released small sounds of pleasure as you pushed your thumb deeper into his mouth, the taste and sensation overwhelming. The tightness of his embrace around your waist conveyed the intensity of his hunger, his starvation.

A moan escaped him, the pleasure and desire spiralling, but it was swiftly followed by a quiet, choked sound as the sensations grew more potent. His breath quickened, and as his eyes fluttered open, he sought to communicate his need for a moment to breathe. Despite this, he eagerly accepted your thumb once more, craving the taste and the connection it offered.

Sensing his state, you displayed a playful smirk against his cheek, acknowledging the effect you had on him. The soft kiss against his cheek and the withdrawal of your thumb granted him the ability to breathe properly, a relief he welcomed.

With Satoru standing so close, you nuzzled his neck, your words murmured against his skin. "You taste amazing."

"You taste perfect," he responded, laden with longing. The soft, hungry moans escaped him.

As he leaned his head forward, exposing his neck, the invitation was clear, and you gladly accepted. Your tongue swirled and pressed against his neck, your teeth grazing his skin, each touch and sensation eliciting pretty moans and pants from him. The proximity, the taste of you, and the closeness between you had his body trembling.

His fingers clutched at your waist, a silent plea for more, for the delicious torment to continue. The line between flatmate and something else was blurred, replaced by a yearning that begged for fulfilment.

The intensity of the moment reached its peak as Satoru's body betrayed him, his knees beginning to buckle against the kitchen island. His heart raced, his breath quickened, and soft sighs of pleasure escaped him, each exhalation laden with desire. The sensations coursing through him were overwhelming, and he surrendered to the pleasure that enveloped him.

Your touch, cradling his head and pressing him closer to your body, ignited a fire within him that burned away his self-restraint. His breaths came in short, sharp gulps, his eyes tightly closed as he continued to moan, the sounds a testament to the exquisite torment he was experiencing. His fingers, which had initially clung to your waist, transformed into a desperate grip—a plea for more, more, more. He yearned for you to devour him in the sweetest way possible.

The sensation of your teeth sinking into his neck sent a jolt through Satoru's body, his eyes snapping open as his breath hitched in response. The vibrations of your satisfied hum resonated down his spine straight to his loins, to that more primal hunger. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him even closer, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

Cute whimpers escaped him as you continued to sink your teeth into his neck, the dark purplish bruises forming under the ravenous caress of your lips. The indulgent torment left him trembling with need and longing. As you soothed the bite marks with your tongue, sucking and kissing them, his body shivered with pleasure. 

"Are you trying to make me like a dessert...?" Satoru whispered in playful anticipation.

"I might eat you like one," you mused, laughter dancing through your words.

Satoru chuckled softly, his hand tenderly running along the back of your neck, the gentle strokes sending waves of pleasure through you.

"Please?" he hoarsely pleaded for a taste that would satiate more than just a physical hunger.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, revelling in the intoxicating closeness. Nuzzling against your neck, his face brushed against your skin with a gentle touch, a platter of kisses, licks, and nibbles that sent ripples of pleasure through you.

His fingers continued their tender exploration, stroking your hair and tracing a slow, deliberate path down your back. Each touch felt like a caress, mapping the curves and contours of your body, as if he were committing the sensation to memory, an artist tenderly tracing the lines of a masterpiece.

You played your part, dipping your fingers into the bowl of milk chocolate with a deliberate laziness, making a show of it, relishing in the decadent act. With a flourish, you sucked the melted chocolate off your fingers, the sound deliberate and loud, a performance that filled the air. Your moans of pleasure, meant for the chocolate but echoing sensually, added to the provocative display. All the while, Satoru was there, an edacious audience to the mesmerising act.

His soft whine of pleasure resonated with the sounds and sights before him. His eyes fluttered open, capturing the eniticing sight of you licking your lips, the taste and aroma of chocolate lingering in the air. His breath caught in his throat, and he let out soft, whining noises of his own, growing louder with each passing moment.

"Open," you whispered, and he obeyed without a moment's hesitation. His mouth slightly parted, pupils dilated with thirst, his gaze locked onto yours.

You leaned closer, the distance between your lips mere inches. The world seemed to hold its breath.

You allowed your milk chocolate-flavoured saliva to drip into his waiting mouth. It was a blend of your essence and the sweetness of chocolate, a taste that sent shivers down his spine. Satoru's grip on your skin tightened as he welcomed the sensation, his mouth opening wider to take in every precious drop. A loud, moan escaped him as he drank in your saliva, the taste of you leaving an indelible mark—trembling with the insatiable craving for you.

"Swallow," you commanded, and he obeyed, swallowing with a soft moan. The pleasure it elicited was evident, his grip on your neck tightening as he continued to make soft, whimpering noises, his gaze fixed on you with an unquenchable thirst.

You leaned in closer, "You like that, don't you?" you whispered, a smugness colouring your tone, gorging on the effect you had on him.

"I love it," Satoru murmured, his voice laced with desire and desperation. "I need more," he confessed, the yearning in his words palpable.

You laughed. "Hungry for more of me?"

"Starving.”

The intimate tension in the air was palpable, a force that left Satoru's features adorned with a flush of the most captivating shade of red. His blue eyes, half-lidded and filled with desire, were fixated on you, a thirst burning within them that yearned to devour you.

With a rapaciousness that knew no bounds, Satoru's hands grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him. Soft, whimpering escaped him as your hips rolled against his, setting his senses ablaze. The press of your body against his was a sensation he craved, and his eyes pleaded with a famished longing, begging for more.

You smeared chocolate against his neck, the tactile sensation adding to the symphony of pleasure that enveloped the room. Satoru's body trembled as he ground against you, the sounds of his moans and whimpers filling the kitchen. He moaned louder as you bit down on his neck, the sensation shooting a wave of electrifying pleasure through him. His teeth ached in response, his mouth watering for you. 

"D'you wanna kiss me, sugar? You wanna taste me for real?" Your lips then found his earlobe, nibbling and licking, a promise of the sensations that could be.

Satoru, overcome with longing, nodded eagerly, a trickle of sweat tracing the line of his flushed face. His grip on your waist tightened, his body moving against yours with a growing urgency, fueled by an insatiable need to be closer, to taste the reality of this desire.

“Then beg,” you commanded.

Satoru's voice, hoarse and raw with desire, quivered as he responded, his moans merging with the symphony of the moment. He pressed his nose into your neck, your proximity overwhelming his senses. 

"Please… Please, I need to feel you. I need to taste you. I need you," he mumbled, his words a desperate plea for the intimacy he craved.

You didn't hold back, the smugness of your laughter giving way to a ravenous kiss. He trembled in your embrace, his mouth opening to welcome the invasion of your tongue. The taste of chocolate and the essence of you mingled, a heady combination that sent his senses into a whirlwind. His tongue writhed against yours, a desperate attempt to enjoy every bit of you. He was a man starved, and he groaned into the kiss.

"Please, I need more," he breathed into your mouth—a chant of desire.

His body quaked with the intensity of his yearning, grinding against you. Your fingernails dug into his neck, making him hiss through gritted teeth. He whimpered as he sucked on your tongue, every moan and every swallow consuming him, the taste of you imprinted on his senses, an imprint he never wanted to fade. He squirmed against your body, wanting more. 

As you pulled away, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips, you could feel the boiling energy in the room.

You wasted no time, plunging your hand into the bowl of melted white chocolate, your fingers finding their way into his greedy mouth. The accidental smear down his chin only added to the intensity, as his eyes closed in pure pleasure. His mouth welcomed your fingers, allowing them to slide in, savouring the taste of the chocolate that spilled down his throat. Each swallow was accompanied by a moan and a whine, the chocolate causing his body to shiver.

Satoru's own grip tightened, his fingers pressing against the back of your head as he sucked and licked, his tongue exploring for every last drop of the chocolate. The desire in his eyes was palpable, the hunger for both of you consuming every waking thought.

You pushed your fingers even deeper into his mouth, eliciting his gag reflex, and his eyes fluttered. "Aw, aren't you so cute?" you teased, your hips rolling in a tantalising rhythm that added to the mounting desire.

Satoru pressed his hips against yours with fervour, driven by the craving to taste every precious drop of the chocolate and your essence.

"I'll do anything to taste you," he whined.

You met his desire with a challenge, arching an eyebrow and pulling your fingers out of his mouth, the same hand covered in the glistening trail of spit that connected you moments ago. Gripping his jaw with determination, you presented him with the opportunity to fulfil his longing.

"Taste me, then."

Satoru's eyes widened with hunger as your spit hit his mouth, his anticipation palpable. Before he could react, you thrust your fingers into his mouth, pushing them down his throat. He gagged and moaned, the sensations both overwhelming and exhilarating. Your saliva mixed with the chocolate was a unique flavour, a taste he craved to savour. As he swallowed your saliva, he choked and whimpered loudly, the feeling of your fingers pressing deeper down his throat.

The wicked grin on your face mirrored the intensity of the moment, a dance of desire that showed no signs of slowing down. One of his own hands gripped your wrist, forcing your fingers to stay shoved down his throat. With determination, you pumped your fingers in and out of his mouth, pushing him to experience the full extent of his cravings.

"Taste all you can," you snickered.

Satoru responded with a loud, girlish whine of desire, his pretty eyes rolling back as he tried to gulp and swallow your spit. The mixture of pleasure, anticipation, and need had him in a trance, and he couldn't get enough. Drool spilt from his rosy lips down his chin, a visible testament to his craving for you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his moans filling the kitchen as he devoured you. His body writhed against your fingers, the need to taste, to consume, to gorge, to ravage… He couldn’t think.

"Yeah, that's it. That's it, sweet thing. Good, keep going," you chuckled, urging him on.

He responded with a loud, lustful squeak of pleasure. His body pressed against yours with all his weight, the kitchen island providing support as he ground against you. Slick with a layer of your sweet saliva, his tongue was a tantalising instrument, pressing against your fingers with a desperate need. The sensation of his teeth and tongue exploring your fingers was trilling, and he gorged on every moment, wanting to taste all of you at once.

"Alright, that's enough," you said with a teasing click of your teeth.

As you tugged on his fluffy white hair and withdrew your fingers from his mouth, wiping them against his cheek, Satoru let out a loud whine of disappointment. He was left in a state of famine—wanting more, needing more, craving more—your very own Tantalus.

Moaning and looking at you with pleading eyes, saliva dripping down the corner of his mouth, his cheeks pink and lips parted, he whimpered your name softly. His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to regain his composure.

“But I… I want... I want more,” he whined breathily, desire consuming him.

You leaned in, your lips finding his jaw, and whispered enticingly in his ear, "But I'm impressed, sugar... I think you deserve more of me." 

You softly bit his earlobe, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. Your hands moved with purpose, sliding down to his waist and undoing his belt. The sound of it hitting the floor filled the kitchen, the noise accentuating the anticipation that hung heavily in the air. Satoru shivered with excitement, his eyes rolling back into his head as his fingers dug into your back.

"Please, please, please…”

With trembling hands, his fingers working eagerly to remove the fabric that stood between him and you. He slid his fingers under the hem of your skirt, the touch against the smooth, soft fabric of your underwear making him whine with longing. The lace against his fingertips was a sensation that drove him wild, his fingers writhing in response to the intoxicating touch.

As you leaned in and bit his neck, the pleasure intensified, his breath catching in his throat as he moaned. Every touch, every instruction was a step further into the Third Circle.

"Go on, take them off for me," you whispered, the urgency in your voice coaxing him to act. 

Satoru's obedience was instant. His trembling hands slid your panties down your legs, the quiet rustling noise filling the charged air. As the fabric was removed, his eyes were fixated on you, the hunger in his gaze undeniable. Lifting your leg to rest against his hip, he was granted a provocative view of your body. Desire burned brightly in his eyes as he took in the sight, captivated by the allure before him. 

Your playful smirk spurred you to make a spectacle, a teasing display that left nothing to the imagination. You opened your legs, presenting yourself like a meal on a silver platter being served to a starving man. Satoru's eyes were fixated on you, drinking in the sight of your form, eyes latched onto how your cunt was slick and needy with the arousal that had gathered from him gagging on your fingers. 

With a teasing confidence, your hands moved to undo the strings of Satoru's grey sweatpants, where you could very clearly see the aching hard-on he sported. His heaving breaths filled the air, as your hand pressed against his leg and your skirt was hoisted up further, exposing more of your tempting form.

As your fingers explored his skin, tracing the contours of his thigh, his body quivered with longing. Your hands moved freely up and down the meat of his thighs, gripping and squeezing his flesh.

"Like what you see, sweet thing?" 

Every fibre of his being yearned to taste you, to devour you whole until you could offer no more. His whines grew louder, his desperation palpable as your fingers danced along his thigh, your touch inching to his throbbing cock that dripped with precum and was flushed a pretty red.

“Love what I see.”

Lust hung in the dense air, hung between Satoru’s legs, between your thighs. He leaned in, his intent clear, and his tongue traced a path along your thigh. As his skilled fingers explored every curve, every contour of your being, his lips kissed and suckled on your inner thighs, leaving trails of desire in their wake. You could sense his hunger, a ravenous appetite for the taste of you.

Your lips curled into a coy, lustful smile as you lifted his chin with your fingers, meeting the depth of his hungry gaze. His face was a portrait of desire, the scorching flames of longing reflected in his eyes. 

"Please. I'm starving," he breathed out, his plea shivering with yearning.

"Starving, huh? I guess I shouldn't let you go hungry," you drawled. You dipped your fingers into the bowl of melted milk chocolate and smeared some across your inner thigh. "Are you a messy eater, sugar?"

"I… I’m…" he stammered with a bright blush.

Your fingers laced into his hair as you pulled his head closer, and he was lost in the intoxicating embrace of your thighs. His tongue danced and swirled, relishing the sweet taste of the milk chocolate and the essence of you.

"Eat your heart out," you purred, your nails grazing his scalp—a delicious torment.

The sensations coursing through your body were electrifying, and Satoru's pious ministrations between your thighs left you gasping and trembling with pleasure. His strong hands gripped your hips, urging you to press harder against his face as he explored every inch of dripping your cunt.

His mouth moved with rhythmic precision, his lips slick with your wetness and his saliva as he lavished you. Each deliberate nudge of his nose against your clit sent waves of pleasure cascading through your body, making you arch your back and moan in ecstasy. 

Satoru's half-lidded eyes, dark with hunger and desire, bore into yours, and his whimpers of praise only made your desire consume you more. He yearned to taste and devour every drop of your essence, relishing the thought of making it run down your thighs so he could eagerly lap it up—or even better, make it squirt straight into his mouth for his desperate taste buds.

Your moans grew louder and more urgent, your fingers digging into his hair as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure building within you. 

Satoru's tongue delved deeper, and the sensations intensified as he explored your most sensitive depths. Your gasps and moans filled the air as he continued to pleasure you. He maintained a steady rhythm, his movements deliberate and measured, aiming to drive you to the peak of ecstasy. With each thrust of his tongue and gentle exploration of your inner walls, your breath quickened and your body quivered with anticipation. He watched you hungrily, his eyes locked on yours, seeking the signs of your pleasure. 

Satoru's mouth found its way back to your clit, and his skilled tongue traced precise circles around the tender bundle of nerves. The wet, warm sensation sent ripples through you, each flicker of contact causing your body to tremble with delight. The vibrations from his moans spurred on your own ravenous hunger.

Your body responded involuntarily, hips arching towards him in a silent plea for more. He picked up the pace, increasing the intensity of his movements, fully immersing himself in the art of pleasuring you. Every motion of his tongue, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips, only made him devour and drink you in more.

Just before you could cum on his tongue, and much to Satoru’s dismay, you wrenched his head away.

As your lips crashed together in a desperate, passionate kiss, your bodies moulded against each other in a frenzied dance of desire. Satoru's surprised yelp transformed into a moan of pleasure, the taste of you on his tongue heightening his longing. You felt him slide inside you, the sensation making your breath hitch and a loud moan escape your lips. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, seeking the intimate closeness that only heightened the pleasure you both craved. With each thrust, every movement, your bodies consumed each other as fully as you could.

His moans merged with yours, a harmonious blend of pleasure and satisfaction that echoed in the room. The sounds of your passionate union filled the air, a sweet melody of ecstasy that enveloped you both. The world faded away, and in that moment, it was just the two of you, consumed by the intense connection and unyielding desire that drove you closer to the edge.

Satoru's desire and urgency radiated through every touch, every thrust, driving you both closer to the brink. Each movement of his body brought a symphony of pleasure, filling the kitchen with the sounds of your shared desire. Your cries of delight mingled with his, deepening with every thrust, as he pressed against you with increasing urgency born of the overwhelming desire that ravished you both. As Satoru's cock delved deeper inside you, the sensation of your wet pussy contracting and fluttering around him sent ripples of pleasure through his body, amplifying the intensity of his movements. 

He just couldn’t help himself.

In that moment of release, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the intensity of pleasure and the shared ecstasy that enveloped you both. Your bodies moved as one, driven by an insatiable hunger and aching desire for each other. Satoru's cries of bliss mingled with your own, a symphony of pleasure as he spilled into you, a torrent of warmth that further heightened your climax. Satoru's fervent thrusts reached a crescendo, his voice echoing through the room as he spilled his essence into your waiting warmth.

His release triggered a cascade of sensations, the intensity of which was almost overwhelming. His cries of ecstasy and the way he clung to you, his body trembling with the power of his climax, were etched into your memory. Thick spurts of cum filled you as he continued to pound into you.

Your body quaked and convulsed, the sensation of his cum filling you only amplifying the intensity of your own orgasm. The pleasure rippled through you, coursing through every nerve and fibre, leaving you gasping and shivering in the aftermath. It was a moment of pure abandon, where all that mattered was the pleasure you both had ignited within each other.

As the waves of ecstasy subsided, you found yourselves entwined, chests heaving, and breaths mingling in the air. The kitchen was filled with a heady mix of desire and still, although faintly, of chocolate.

The two of you slumped against the kitchen island, completely exhausted. The silence between you is thick. Neither of you says anything to each other and you can hear your panting breathing. You can feel Satoru’s chest rapidly rising and falling as he stayed pressed to you, and he reluctantly pulled out.

Satoru breathed shakily, but was still unable to speak coherently. His face was flushed and still recovering. He looked at you and you could see the glazed-over look of afterglow in his eyes. He looks like a panting mess of exhaustion, forcing out the next few words.

“I need you,” he whispered.

Satoru's lips found yours in a soft, wet kiss before you could respond. A passionate kiss, his mouth searching and seeking, taking in every taste, every curve and caress of your lips. Soft, gentle. Hungry and relentless. His hands moved into your hair, his fingertips pressing against the bare skin of your neck, tracing every curve. His lips pressed and retreated, press… Retreat… Press… There was an undeniable hunger to it—a hunger you now understood, and now shared.

“I need you, too.”

a/n: peep the five stars. peep the Tantalus reference. peep the Dante's Inferno reference. Happy Kinktober! :3

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

#꒰ ✎ ꒱ — tongues in trees #꒰ ✑ ꒱ — they kiss consume #꒰ 🝮 ꒱ — kt 23 #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #sub gojo satoru x reader #sub gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n

[zarvasace]

Next is Depth! He is dark Sky. (He gets his own special dramatic portrait—the perspective mostly works? Idk I need to practice and find some good refs for this sort of thing.) So much rambling about him and his design under the cut.

Masterpost

The most striking thing about Depth is how normal he looks. Disregarding a few odd features, he looks like Just Some Guy, at least until he opens his mouth. He occasionally feigns being mute around others so he can keep the charade of being human up for longer, since his voice sounds truly awful. Depth is paler than Sky with much darker hair and orange-red eyes, but is otherwise identical. He doesn't mind that, and chooses to play it up a bit with very similar clothes, too. His tunic is rust-colored, opposite Sky’s spring green, and his chainmail is pointed and jagged on the ends instead of smooth. He wears a purple sash with more angular designs and lines, which matches the purple charm that keeps his cape on. 

Depth’s sailcloth is both a source of pride and a sore spot. He made it to contrast Sky’s, dark and tattered, but one of his very secret desires is to get one as beautiful as Sky’s, made by Sun, maybe dark, but functional and lovely and a reminder of her. 

See, Depth doesn't understand Sun—he doesn't actually know her, though he has memories from Sky. He wants her to be a damsel in distress that he can rescue, he dreams of her choosing him over his Light, but he doesn't realize that she won't. He loves his idea of her. While Depth follows [insert LU bad guy here]’s directives, he makes his own plans and he has his own agendas, and many of those plans aid him, in some way, to win Sun’s affection. 

However, as Depth has been growing into the leader role, he's starting to become attached to the other Darks. He's annoyed by them, but his plans have started to expand to benefit them in a way that doesn't necessarily benefit him, too. He might have a little altruism in him, after all. 

Despite that, unfortunately, Depth remains someone who would not save the world, but someone who intends to damn it over and over again. He doesn't flinch at the thought of Demise’s curse, in fact, he would welcome it. He likes the idea of having a purpose and a destiny. He wants to coddle the few people he cares about and would set everything on fire to do it. He says he loves Sun more than Sky ever could, but he would lock her away to keep her "safe."

Depth is the de facto leader of the group, since he's driven and has ambition. He has a very strict idea of what the other Darks should be doing and gets upset when they don't do it. He hates being touched and is ruthlessly practical. Once, when Nothing was being particularly annoying and tried to steal Depth’s sailcloth, Depth broke at least one of Nothing's fingers. He hasn't gotten close to injuring someone like that again, due to equal parts nobody bothering him like that again and him trying to be a little gentler. He doesn't hesitate to threaten injury to keep order, though. 

Depth knows about Ghirahim as a sword, and wants to wield it, but is under the impression that he needs to prove himself worthy first. (Whether or not [LU bad guy] actually intends to let him use it is a different story.) Depth is one of the more skilled sword fighters among the Darks, remembering formal training, but his sword isn't anything special. In a fight with Sky, they would be evenly matched if it weren't for Sky’s ability to use a Skyward Strike, and Depth's inability to block that much light. 

Depth’s special ability is his voice. In a mundane way, the others try to not make him use it, because it's almost painful to hear. In a magical way, Depth’s voice carries over long distances. When he sings, he can summon creatures like bats, crows, rats, and snakes, and they'll listen to him for a time. When he screams, his voice is a magical, short-range wave of destruction. Yes, he's an evil Disney Princess. Depth doesn't feel any strong affinity for the animals he attracts, but he doesn't let Dire or anyone else hurt them, and he doesn't send them to their deaths. He mostly uses them as spies and distractions. 

Depth is one of the more dangerous members of the Dark Chain—not because he’s physically imposing or particularly powerful, but because he can see beyond the next mission and is determined to ruin the Lights once and for all. He's one of those who would happily kill his Light—but only after Depth shows him how he has lost everything dear to him. 

#my art #lu z darks au #is this even lu anymore #i mean technically im using the lu interpretations so okay #linked universe

[poppadom0912]

Together (VI)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, kidnappings, shootings, and scary men.

Summary: Everyone in Chicago knows the signature Halstead stubbornness, but the Murray's only smell delusion.

A/N: A Levels are kicking my ass but enjoy!! This was also written on while I was at school so there might be a few mistakes. The angst in this is too good to be true if you ask me so buckle up ;)

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

The effects of the drugs were still present as Will came back to, vision blurry and body in agony as he re-adjusted himself on the cold floor. Everything came rushing back and he tried his best not to panic when he couldn't find Jay.

However, his panic became clear as day when he caught your unconscious figure laying almost too still on the floor, too far from him to reach you.

Despite calling out to you, trying his best to nudge you with his feet, you never moved, remaining immobile. Will swore he heard you groan but it was so silent he could easily blame it on delusion.

Trying his best not to jump to conclusions, Will tugged and moved his hands tied to metal pipes, trying as hard as he could to release himself so he could get to you.

And it might've taken what felt like years, resulting in his wrists to bleed out a bit too heavy than normal but he was already in so much pain that it made no difference.

As carefully as he could so not to aggravate any of his more serious injuries, Will brushed your hair away from sticking to your forehead to behind your ears.

On instinct, he checked for a pulse and choked back a sob when he felt it. It was definitely weak but it was there and that was all that mattered right now.

"Y/N? Y/N open those eyes for me." Will whispered, gently picking your head up and placing it on his thighs, letting them act as a pillow.

"I know you're in there so don't even try it with me young lady." He said, semi strict tone that he used to use when you were a teenager and he was the only fatherly figure in your life besides Jay.

Once again, you groaned from the sheer amount of pain you were in, tears pricking your eyes and falling down your cheeks when you didn't bother holding them back.

"There she is." Will continued whispering, a smile gracing his lips as the two of you made eye contact. He felt his chest tighten at the sight of your silent tears. "Hurts... It hurts Will." You said huskily, voice cracking and breaking, an indication that you were going to lose it soon. "It hurts so much."

“I know, I know it does.” Will whispered, swallowing harshly as you shivered in his arms. “I’m so sorry but you have to stay awake for me.”

Despite being in a haze, you let out a sound that indicated you were listening to him. As you did so, you forced your eyes open and studied your oldest brothers scar filled face.

“You're hurt Will.” You said, trying to raise your voice in sternness but it only cracked further. Mustering as much strength as you could, you lifted your hand and gently poked his face with your own bloodied and worn out fingers.

Slightly wincing, Will held your wrist, his touch as light as a feather as he moved it away back onto your lap. “Don’t talk to much okay? You need to preserve your energy and try not to lose your voice.”

You were never a sticker for the rules, always foregoing your brothers advice whenever they lent it to you. "Tell me a story, something I don't know... please?"

The desperation soaked into your words, it almost brought Will back to a time where innocence was all the Halstead siblings knew. The image of a toddler you, wobbling along like a penguin but ambition shone bright in your eyes as it always did whenever you heard the boyish shouts of the only kids who'd have to become men too quickly

For the sake of you. 

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he continued to bring you comfort with his feather light touches as to not add any more gasoline to to fire your body was set on. 

"Well." Will blinked away his tears, refusing to show both his pain and fear in a moment that he needed to be the big brother he's been since the early age of two. "I was going to tell you this at your wedding but when you were seven..."

And with ease, something Will hadn't felt since he was in Jay's truck earlier today or maybe it was yesterday, time slipped away from him; Will delved into what sounded like angels singing hymns.

The great blue earth that spun ever so gracefully felt so insignificant right now. It felt like hell was here in the room with you because this pain was otherworldly. 

You would never let them know, but you craved sweet release. 

*****

Jay felt like he was going crazy, which he was, both figuratively and literally. 

Here he was in the bullpen, not in the best of states taking into account the cuts and bruises littering his body, his thigh pulsating whenever he moved an inch but just as he felt the pain, he remembered you and Will. He remembered your battered body and your helpless screams and despite never seeing it, he knew Will had been hurt but the man was too stubborn and selfless to show his younger siblings. 

There was no new evidence since Jay's unexpected arrival. 

Everything had been thoroughly sifted through and no rocks had been left unturned. Things were so uneventful that Kelly had been convinced - *cough cough forced* - back to work with the promise he was their first call when they found something. And of course, Jay wasn't going to deny his future brother-in-law. 

The middle Halstead sibling sat at his desk, picking away at every miniscule detail he could remember. His siblings lives were literally in the palms of his hands and he'd be damned they were ripped out of his grasp. He wasn't a Halstead for nothing. It was the only good thing they all inherited from their father and that was his godforsaken stubbornness that Voight, Goodwin and Boden cursed out on a daily. 

His eyes stung, salty tears blurring his vision for mere seconds before they were extinguished. This was not the time nor was it the place for Jay to start contemplating and start thinking the worst. He knew that as long as neither of you were alone, as long as the two of you remained together then he had no reason to worry and his only job was to find you. 

The Jackson brothers had already taken so much from the Halsteads and just as life was running smoother than silk, they barged in and tore it all apart with no care for the feelings of others. Jay didn't understand just how cruel people could be, even in his line of work some people were just beyond evil just for the sake of it. 

Apparently, according to Antonio who had been in touch with a few of his people, Jackson's escape was so clean not a single prison guard could recollect when or how it happened and Ezra had been in hiding for the past four years. There were no explanations to their appearances and Jay felt himself going mad. 

Maybe he was beginning to get delirious from the endless dead ends they came upon or maybe it was the blood loss catching up to him added with the adrenaline finally dying down. No one would know but Jay could live with that if it meant getting a single hint or clue as to where his brother and sister were kept locked away from his itching fingers. 

In Jay's opinion, Voight wasn't being fair when he denied giving Jay his backup gun that was usually kept in the draw at the bottom of his desk. He'd confiscated it and refused to give it back till this entire ordeal was over as he claimed Jay's behaviour to be unpredictable even when on the verge of fainting. 

"Thanks Kim." Jay thanked the brunette with a tight lipped smile when she placed a coffee and sandwich in front of him on his desk. He could practically feel the concern oozing off his colleagues but he simply ignored it, shoving it far away because that was the least of his problems right now. Deep down, he knew he needed medical attention but then he heard your gut wrenching cries and suddenly his eyes were stinging again. 

According to the numbers on his computer screen, it would be 24 hours since the Halsteads kidnapping in approximately three minutes and gosh did it make Jay want to scream, shouting out to any higher power that was empathetic enough to help. 

His favourite coffee sat peacefully in its paper cup but the brown liquid only made him feel queasy. For some reason, the common beverage made him think of the thermos sitting in his truck that belonged to Will, his older brothers complaining about how the ED had tired him out. God, Will must be so tired. 

Swallowing back the rising bile, Jay sighed, his entire body deflating into his chair. His head was pounding and the bandage Ethan tightly wrapped around his leg was soaked through, his blood was soon going to start dripping onto the wooden floor and he didn't need that on his mind too. Sitting up, Jay nicely asked if Kim could help him redress the wound which she nodded without a second thought. Besides the two of them and Voight in his office doing God knows what, the bullpen was empty despite the occasional team member moving in and out with an urgency that never left since they heard Jay's audio from Trudy. 

Screwing his eyes shut, Jay bite back a wince when Kim knelt down and touched his thigh with practiced gentleness that reminded him of the tenderness his first responder siblings showed whenever on the clock. 

All of a sudden, his heart lurched out of his chest when Kim's phone alarm went off, a notification popping up and going as soon as it came. It was very short lived but Jay caught of glimpse of the words on her phone and felt dread taking over his body. 

Dragging his eyes back over to his computer screen, Jay could only feel the weight on his shoulders increase tenfold and if he listened closely, he could probably hear his bones creaking under the pressure. 

It'd officially been 24 hours since the Halsteads went missing. 

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #jay halstead x reader #onechicago #chicago fire #chicago med #chicago pd #will halstead x reader #halstead sister #halstead brothers #kelly severide x reader #jay halstead x sister!reader #will halstead x sister!reader

[house-of-mirrors]

On the topic of wanting to see the player deal with failure and real stakes, I want to see more negative consequences for the ambitions

Have the nemesis player haunted by choices and facing suspicion from those in the loop. Wounds and aftereffects from consuming one of the deadliest poisons in universe. I think Cups would be too scared to do more harm in the one ending, but Wines really wouldn't be happy with the player. Moonlight can be so interesting here with seeing the loved one alive and whole

Bag a Legend player struggling with injuries and nightmares from the visions of violence they saw. Physical and mental scars. The vast connections ending player could be stressed by demands and paperwork and the attention of the Bazaar. Those who kept an aspect alive still subject to exhausting manipulations, esp with the intriguer.

Light Fingers player would have a lot of trauma from all that. Depending on choices, a question of if their friends still trust them or not. Still dealing with sabotage and scrutiny from Fires. The Diamond ending with society falling apart around them and the jewel itself starting to burn them alive. The pain of missing and worrying about your child in the other ending

Heart's Desire player, with all endings but the Marvellous ending, has a lonely and hollow victory. All the bridges burned and connections lost to get what they want, and is it even really what they want? Alternatively if you want to play a character who has no regrets about winning, show them struggle to have any normal interaction because of their status. Lots of people don't like them. The power ending would physically hurt. Marvellous ending player still struggling with ideas of what could have been. Moonlight would be interesting here too

#hd spoilers #nemesis spoilers #LF spoilers #bal spoilers #fl spoilers

[lorcandidlucienwill]

I released the damper on the power that I had unleashed in Hybern, my body turning incandescent as light shone through. Pure as day, pure as starlight. “Cursebreaker,” some murmured. “Blessed,” others whispered. I made a show of looking surprised—surprised and yet accepting of the Cauldron’s choice. Tamlin’s face was taut with shock, the Hybern royals’ nothing short of baffled. But I turned to Lucien, my light radiating so brightly that it bounced off his metal eye. A friend beseeching another for help. I reached a hand toward him. Beyond us, I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it. Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow. Like stalks of wheat in a wind, the others fell to their knees as well. For in all of her preening ceremonies and rituals, never had Ianthe revealed any sign of power or blessing. But Feyre Cursebreaker, who had led Prythian from tyranny and darkness … Blessed. Holy. Undimming before evil. I let my glow spread, until it, too, rippled from Lucien’s bowed form. A knight before his queen. When I looked to Ianthe and smiled again, I let a little bit of the wolf show. Eris’s eyes gleamed with wanton desire as he drank in Nesta’s smile, the glow about her. He knew what Nesta might become with a little ambition. The right guidance. If he learned that the Dread Trove answered to her, that she’d Made his new dagger … It was a mistake, to bring her here. To dangle her before Eris, the world. Emerging from her cocoon of grief and rage, this new Nesta might very well send entire courts to their knees. Kingdoms. The music rose and rose and rose, faster and faster and faster, and as its last few notes sounded, Eris again released her. Nesta spun solo once more, three more precise, perfect rotations as Eris dropped to a knee before her and held up a hand. The final note blasted and held, and Nesta halted with preternatural ease, taking Eris’s hand in the same movement that her back arched and she flung up her other arm, the portrait of triumph.

The Vanserras kneeling before Archeron women is so hot though... I'm so normal about the Vanserras and what could've been.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #pro nesta archeron #eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #anti inner circle #anti feysand #vanserra brothers #neris #feycien #feyre archeron #anti nessian

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 25: Fitz's Magic Show

Masterlist

June 1905

TW: mind control, kidnapping, hypnotic language

Cards were moving smoothly, flowing from hand to hand like they were made of water, with a practiced ease that made it seem effortless -- much like Fitz's charming grin. The crowd was never as large as he'd like, at least for now, but they were watching, enraptured, glued to every small movement and every syllable of his patter.

When he was in his element like this, soaking up the attention, it made everything seem worth it.

"...and the queen of spades is in this hand, right? Who thinks the queen of spades is in this hand?" He showed an empty hand. "Does anyone want to guess where the queen of spades is? In my nose, you say? Sir --" He stopped shuffling and crossed his arms with a mock glare. "Sir, do you normally keep playing cards in your nose?" The crowd chuckled. "Of course, that's not where the queen of spades is. Here she is, in my sock! I'm glad I found her before she ended up in my laundry."

As he did simple tricks, he was scanning the crowd for a good volunteer for his showstopper finale, his eyes lighting on a woman in the front row. She had a simple blue dress and mouse-brown hair, looking almost like she'd blown in from a farm, with an innocent expression, and she'd been watching Fitz with an enraptured expression the entire show.

"Now, for my next few tricks, can I have a volunteer?" He flashed his smile at the woman, and was vindicated when her hand shot up. "How about this young woman in the front? Yes, you, come on up." He held out his hand to help her up the front steps of the stage, her grip surprisingly strong and her hand freezing cold. "Now, what's your name?"

"Lily."

"Lily, a lovely name for a lovely lady. Let's all give a big round of applause to our lovely Miss Lily!" 

Lily giggled. "Are you trying to charm me?"

"Well, that depends. Is it working?" he asked. Truthfully, women like Lily weren't his type. Women weren't his type at all -- yet another in the long list of reasons why he'd left his family behind to pursue his own ambitions. The money, the status, all that had been nothing more than a gilded cage jam packed with stifling expectations. Here, on the stage, where he wasn't Fitzwilliam de Hastings but The Phantom Fitz, he was free.

The young woman was eating from the palm of his hand as he had her choose a card and pretended to forget which one it was or where he had put it. "You know, Lily, confidentially, sometimes I only find my assistant's card in my icebox the next day," he stage whispered to her. "But this time, I think I know where it is. No, not in your nose. I believe it's caught in your hair." He reached around her flowery accessory, using it to conceal the motion of snapping a card out of his sleeve.

"Is this your card, Miss Lily?" he asked. 

"Yes, it is!" she said, but her smile had changed somehow, in a way that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Well, as long as she was still playing along...

"Well, hopefully I've earned your trust with that display of my abilities, because I'd like for you to participate in my final trick of the evening." He gestured to the box in the back of the set, one he'd painstakingly constructed from memories of similar tricks he'd witnessed, one he'd painted himself in deep blue with glittering constellations. "If you wouldn't mind stepping into this box, I promise that no harm will come to you, and the audience will get to witness something amazing."

"Trying to make me disappear?" she asked with a wink.

"Nothing escapes you, Miss Lily," he said. 

"...That is very true."

He stopped for a moment, perplexed, before resuming his spiel. "You won't be gone for more than a moment. You have my word -- I swear upon my dear departed childhood kitten's grave." He closed the door with a dramatic flourish and turned to the crowd. "Please, no one tell her that I don't remember where my beloved little Mittens is buried." 

He spun the box to a side that looked identical to the one that had been facing the audience, and opened it up to the false back. A dead simple trick, and not at all difficult to figure out, but with the right atmosphere, the dim gas lighting, and the patter, he could still get a reaction from the audience -- and tonight was no different. "Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced Miss Lily! I certainly hope I don't find her in the icebox the next day. Or in someone's nose!"

The crowd laughed, and Fitz beamed. Simple tricks and corny humor, but it paid the bills. He was right where he belonged, and his star could only climb higher from here. Soon, he'd move up the ranks to become a headliner, take his act on the road, go wherever the wind took him as the money poured in. 

-------

The cape was flung haphazardly in a corner, the thickest of the stage makeup wiped roughly from his face, his props scattered across his dressing room table. Another successful show.

Fitz was rubbing at his exhausted eyes and wondering what he should do to round up some food when there was a firm knock on the door. He hoped it wasn't the theater manager with some petty complaint yet again. "Come in," he called.

He wasn't terribly surprised to see Lily's head peek in. It wasn't the first time members of the audience snuck backstage. Judging by the fact that she was alone, she must've gotten the wrong impression from his flirting. He'd kindly dispel any misunderstandings and send her on her way, simple enough.

"Miss Lily!" he said, his stage persona snapping back in place. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I wanted to let you know that I very much enjoyed being a part of your act this evening," she said. That was that strange smile again, the one he found so disconcerting but couldn't place. "I confess that I'm a bit of an amateur magician myself, so it was nice to see your sleight-of-hand up close. You're very talented."

"Why, thank you," said Fitz with a huge grin, unable to stop himself from eating up the flattery. He could always turn her away in a moment, when she was done complimenting him.

"I've been working on some magic tricks myself, if you wouldn't mind taking a look? I'd love to get some pointers."

"I'm always happy to help a fellow illusionist with their trade. Let's see what you have."

"All right," she said, unfurling a chain with a beautiful teardrop-shaped ruby on the end of it. "This pendant is an old family heirloom of mine, and I don't want anything to happen to it, so I'll need you to watch it carefully to make sure it doesn't disappear." She began slipping the chain through her fingers, swaying the pendant back and forth as she fluidly passed it from hand to hand. Her deft fingers were mesmerizing to watch, gentle and rhythmic. "Keep focused on the pendant, please."

She didn't need to remind Fitz, who couldn't take his eyes off it. Her speed and grace were top-notch, her talent for sleight of hand easily surpassing his. She seemed to have a knack for making the ruby sparkle in the most alluring way with every pass.

"That's right, just keep looking, just keep focusing, or you'll miss the trick," she said. "Keep watching the ruby as it sparkles and shines, stealing your attention away from everything else. Focus, don't look away. Focus and listen, Fitz, focus and listen."

Her voice was good for patter too, with a mesmerizing quality that was so easy to listen to. A natural.

"You've been working so hard up there on the stage. You must be tired. It must be so nice to just focus on my simple little trick. Easy. Compelling. Relaxing. No need to think, only to watch, and listen. Watch and listen. Isn't it nice?"

"Yeah..." he murmured, leaning forward. "You're good at the... the..."

"Oh, I know. Almost as good as you," she said confidently. "Just keep focusing, watching the ruby... have you figured out the trick yet?"

"The trick?" he said hazily. "You're going to make the pendant disappear?" He must be tired. He felt so sluggish.

"It's not the pendant that's going to disappear," she said. "But oh, that's right, silly me. The trick only happens after you're asleep."

"Asleep?"

"Aren't you tired?" she pressed, the ruby glinting in the gas light. "Aren't your eyelids heavy? Aren't you getting sleepier and sleepier?"

"Sleepier... mmm." A warning bell sounded in the back of his mind. She was trying to pull something over on him. With difficulty, he managed to tear his eyes away from the pendant. He looked up at Lily and realized what it was he had been trying to identify in her smile. Her demeanor had been so disarming that he hadn't realized how confident and predatory it was.

Nor had he noticed the hint of sharp fangs.

He recoiled as his mind tried to catch up with what he was seeing. She was...

With great effort, he lifted his strangely heavy arm, feeling as if he was moving in a dream, and caught the pendant. "You're trying to mesmerize me," he said, trying to wipe the cobwebs from his mind and restore his usual cocky smile. He must have been imagining what he had just seen. "That's the trick here. Clever, and you aren't half bad at it."

Her delighted laugh rang off the walls. "Guess you're too strong willed for something like that, Phantom Fitz."

"Guess I am," he said, although he was surprised by how much she'd taken him in. "Your technique is excellent, though. You're practiced with your hands."

"I have had a lot of practice," she agreed. "But now that you've seen my trick, care for a bit of a gamble?"

His smile came easily now. "Always."

"Five more minutes of watching the pendant and following my instructions. No tricks, no trying to break free." She reached into her purse and produced a crisp five dollar bill. "If you can avoid falling under my spell, you win."

Fitz was as transfixed by the money as he was by the ruby. Five dollars was more than he made for an entire show. That extra money would really help him stave off bills and debt collectors and the ache of his stomach. 

"And how will we determine if I've fallen under your spell?"

"I'll have to get you to do something you wouldn't normally do. Like, for example -- I'll get you to call me 'Your Majesty.'"

"Ha! I'll take that bet," he said. "Do your worst, mesmerist."

He didn't have five dollars on him, of course. He had barely a quarter to his name. But she didn't need to know that, because there was no way he was going to lose this bet. Sure, she had him dazed when he didn't realize what was happening, but now that he was on to her, that money was bound to be his. He could already taste the steak he was going to treat himself to if he won it.

"All right then. Five minutes, Fitz." She unfurled the ruby in front of his eyes once more. "And all you need to do is focus on the pendant and listen to my voice, and the money will be yours."

She began to swing the ruby in a slow, sweeping motion, perfectly rhythmic, easy to follow with his eyes.

"Focus," she said, and Fitz could immediately tell there was something different about the way her voice echoed in his mind. "Relax and focus. Watch the ruby. Watch it go back and forth. Watch it shine. Utterly focused on its movements. Utterly focused on my voice."

This was different from before. He could feel his mind slip, his gaze narrowing on the pendant. A little voice in the back of his head was nagging at him, but he was an old hand at quieting his own better sense, especially when money was on the line. He stubbornly kept watching.

"Good, Fitz, very good," she said, her voice like honey poured into a cup of soothing tea. "Keep watching. Keep watching even though you're so tired. So drowsy. So sleepy. Stay focused, even though the slow swing of the ruby is making you sleepier and sleepier. Drowsy. Heavy. And focused."

His eyelids blinked, so heavy, as he kept watching. He must be so close to getting that money. It must be halfway over at least. So close...

"Sleepier and sleepier with every swing. More and more mesmerized. More and more focused. Your eyelids are getting heavy, Fitz, so heavy and drowsy, but you can keep them open. You have to keep them open and keep watching the pendant, just like you said, or you'll lose the bet, Fitz."

That's right. He had said he'd watch the pendant and listen to her instructions for five minutes. He had to do that. Had to keep watching. Had to keep listening.

"You're so sleepy, Fitz, so sleepy. You need to keep watching, but it's so hard when you're this tired. Your eyes want to close so badly. You want to sleep, don't you?"

"...No," he said, with considerable effort. "I want to keep watching so I can win."

"Of course you do," she said. "You want to keep watching, even though the pendant is putting you to sleep, fast asleep. Only a few minutes more, and you'll have won the bet and can go to sleep. Only a few minutes of trying to keep your heavy, sleepy, drowsy eyes open. Only a few minutes of being so dazed and helpless and vulnerable..."

Yes, only a few minutes. He felt his eyes drift shut for just a moment, before he caught himself and wrenched them open again, his gaze fixed on the pendant once more. 

"Soon you can stop watching and rest. I'll give you your money and take good care of you. Just watch the pendant and let it sink you down into hypnotic sleep." With her free hand, she ruffled his hair affectionately. "You're doing so, so well. You're perfect, Fitz." 

He smiled drowsily, soaking up the praise and the comforting touch. He'd been struggling so long, ever since he'd run away from his family as a teen. Working questionable jobs, going hungry, scraping by on his wits and charm. God, it'd be so nice to be taken care of for a change. To drop the many layers of personas and guards he habitually carried and relax. It'd be so nice to rest...

"You've about to win, Fitz," she said, her voice low and so near to his ear. "You can shut your eyes now. Shut your eyes and go to sleep. Deep, restful sleep. Everything is going to be just fine."

His head tipped forward as his eyes closed all on their own, impossibly heavy, as a warm sense of peace settled over him.  

"Go to sleep, Fitz, just go to sleep, nice, deep sleep," she soothed. "Let me put you to sleep and take care of you. I'm going to take such good care of you. All you have to do is sleep, and don't wake until I tell you to. All you have to do is drift off into blissful dreams."

Fitz didn't answer. His mind was already gone.

Part 24 >> Masterlist >> Part 26

Thank you for reading this interlude about another man who was doomed.

Five dollars was more like $175 then.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog

#whump #whumpee #whump writing #mind control #vampire #vampire whumper #kidnapping #hypnosis #hypnotic induction #rare bookseller #fitz #lily

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Hand in Hand, Heart to Heart Part I - Gwynriel One-Shot

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: swearing, fingering, mirror sex

Let me know what you think! Hope you like it <3

Gwyn always thought of herself as having a good amount of discipline. Being a priestess to the Mother made her patient, focused and enduring in her studies and prayers. Training with two Illyrian warriors brought her that same challenge of determination, only for her body instead of her mind. Then of course there was that tiny bit of ambition engrained in her personality that drove Azriel insane. And yet, sitting at the dinner table in the beautiful mansion of the High Lord and Lady, she felt her reserve crumble.

It had been a great evening so far. Gwyn was now a regular invite at the dinner parties Rhys and Feyre hosted for their family. Especially Feyre had warmed up to her in a split second, and even though her deepest friendship was to another Archeron, she appreciated the calm and positive vibe the High Lady exuded.

Said calm wasn’t about to help her now, though, as she sat right across from her Shadowsinger and just physically couldn’t drag her eyes away from him. More specifically, his hands. All the while the chatter and clatter of their cutlery droned on in the background, faces of family and friends illuminated by soft candle light.

Gwyn had cursed the unsuspecting male ten times already in her mind. It was simply unfair. How he could sit there, not a care in the world, casually eating a potato, and making it look so damn hot.

He was dressed to impressed that night, the embroidered black tunic taunt against the muscle of his chest, some of his tattoos peeking out from the neckline. With his slightly disheveled black hair and that cursed smell of his, it was already enough to make Gwyn daydream.

Up until he had the audacity to roll up his sleeves. Forearms really weren’t on the list of body parts Gwyn found to be enticing – but looking at Azriel now, she had to update said list quickly. Maybe it was just him, and his specific ropes of muscles that moved and danced as he cut through the meat on his plate. The inked muscle made way to scars that spread out evenly over his hands, and it filled Gwyn with joy knowing that she was the one holding these hands and being held by them in return.

She was so completely absorbed in the living daydream that was Azriel, that she jumped just slightly at the feeling of something cold slithering around her ankle.

Her eyes immediately found Azriel’s, who was already watching, a corner of his lips lifted, nostrils flaring just a second. Of course he noticed. Gwyn couldn’t decide if she felt embarrassed or glad. Because if he knew, he might as well do something to end her misery. And he could do something to hide the arousal which was undoubtedly emanating in waves from her at this point.

Gwyn did everything in her power to remain calm, normal, unphased. She continued chatting to Nesta and Feyre, eating her food, drinking her water, doing her best to ignore the Shadowsinger across from her. His Shadows, however, were harder to ignore. Whisps of black continued to curl around her ankle slowly, sometimes reaching up just a tiny bit under her long skirt to flow down her calve. With every reach they became braver, even daring to brush the inside of her knee once. Gwyn was a puddle, mirroring another part of her that was equally drenched, and she was desperate for some privacy by the time dessert was served.

The minutes felt like hours, eyes always straying and coming back to the center of Gwyn’s attention like they were magnets and the male was made of pure iron, until finally, Azriel stood. The priestess held herself back just enough to not immediately jump to her feet, too, as Az came up with some kind of nonsense of where they had to go.

Kisses and hugs were exchanged, promises for the next time made, and then Gwyn stepped out of the house into the fresh autumn night.

Azriel came up behind her, his arms circling around her waist as his lips closed the distance to her ear. His voice basically lowered to a growl as he spoke. “You drive me insane. What possessed you to be such a Gods-damned tease in the middle of dinner?”

“Me?”, Gwyn half turned in his embrace, eyebrows drawn together, “what did I do?”

His amber eyes were glowing. She hadn’t even noticed that before. He seemed like he was serios, too, and just as hot and bothered as she was herself. Odd, she thought. She didn’t even do anything beside staring at him like a devoted priestess would stare at a God.

“Do you even have to ask? Wearing that dress, for a start. Smiling. Looking at me with your dreamy eyes. You’re lucky I didn’t drag you up the staircase to christen one of the thousand guest bedrooms Rhys has.”

Gwyn smiled right in his face now. The dress she was wearing wasn’t scandalous, or even slightly flirty by any means. Yet he actually looked like it personally offended him and his willpower.

“Well, if you wouldn’t have pulled that little Shadow trick halfway through dinner, that staring might have lessened.” Might. Unlikely, but what did he know.

Azriel lowered his head, his nose nearly touching hers. “I had to do something about that delectable scent of yours. You’re welcome, by the way.”

The priestess let out a soft snort. “As if you did that for practicality. You enjoyed every second of my squirming.”

She must have said something wrong, because her Shadowsinger’s features twisted into disbelief, mouth gaping slightly. Then one of his beautiful, strong hands came up to grab her jaw, forcing her to stare right into his eyes. “Do you think I enjoy that kind of torture? That my Shadows get to touch you, instead of me? That they get to be so close to you, while I sat a tables’ distance apart? I’m not a masochist, priestess. I wanted to be alone with you just as much as you wanted it.”

Gwyn’s breathing quickened by the time he was done speaking, so close to him that she felt every dip and curve of his body, his warm breath on her cheeks.

“We are alone now.”, she managed to get out, hopefully sounding at least a little composed.

The smile spreading on Azriel’s face was positively feral. “Seems like we are.”

The time they needed to reach their room in the House of Wind must have been a record. Velaris grew blurry under Azriel’s wings, and he didn’t even let her go out of his arms when they landed on the closest balcony to their corridor. Completely enveloped in the scent of him he continued carrying her until they reached their door, until he sat her down on their bed, lips already on hers.

Gwyn was perched at the edge of the bed, legs spread to accommodate the bulky figure of Azriel between them. As much as she previously dreamt of his hands, the original was way better. His fingers flew over her body, wanting to be in all places at once. He was assertive in the way he held her, squeezed her, not giving her any room to think twice about what was happening. It was so different from the way he touched her before, like she might crack with too much pressure.

Because him treating her like a porcelain doll made her feel like one. Now, she felt like his equal, deserving of his power.

Azriel groaned when she pressed herself harder against him, her own hands working their way over his shoulders and down his back, ever mindful of his wings. His scent of arousal hit her like a brick wall in their frenzied kissing. He must have dampened it while they were with their family and on the way home. The infamous Shadowsinger, nearly blind with desire for a modest little priestess. Gwyn almost messed up the rhythm of their kiss as a grind spread across her face.

“What’s so funny, priestess?”, Azriel spoke against her lips, lids heavy.

Gwyn could only shake her head, too focused on the task of littering kisses up and down Azriel’s neck.

Until a sharp tug on her hair made her arch backwards, her lips losing the warmth they sought.

“I believe I asked you a question.”, Azriel said in an almost bored voice, his fingers firmly tangled in Gwyn’s chestnut locks, pulling just enough to make her gasp in surprise.

“I just”, the priestess started, “I just thought about you desiring me so much.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper, yet it sounded to her like she screamed out her truth for anyone to hear.

“And that is funny?”, Az pressed languid kisses from Gwyn’s collarbone up her throat, his breath tickling her skin, “Weird. I don’t feel inclined to laugh much about that. But then again, you apparently aren’t the one driven to insanity with love.”

But she was. And he must have known it too, because his own grin fought its way to his lips.

He released her hair just slightly to let her close the distance to him again, before resuming his firm hold. The kiss they shared was anything but hard, though. It was the lightest of brushes, more like a tickling than anything else. And it reminded Gwyn that, no matter how tough Azriel seemed to be, she was his ultimate soft spot. And she was safe.

Azriel stood after a few lingering moments, abandoning his spot by the bed to lean against his wardrobe. Gwyn felt a surge of pride as she took him in. Completely disheveled, wings slightly flared, Shadows darker than ever and the scent of desire more than potent. The look on his face though was suspiciously calm. Gwyn imagined she herself looked anything but. In the back of her head, she wondered what might happen tonight, if she was ready, if she would be able to please him.

Like he read her mind, Azriel interrupted her spiraling thoughts in just the right time. “Undress for me.”

He didn’t make it sound like a command, more like a plea, yet he looked absolutely confident.

Gwyn really couldn’t do anything but rise from the bed herself, her mind going blissfully blank. She took a few small steps towards him, only to calm her nerves a little. And then, she began unbuttoning her dress.

The last person she had willingly shown herself naked to was her sister, Catrin. It wasn’t hard, not only because they had very similar bodies anyways, but because she loved and trusted her twin completely. As button after button sprung open now, she was consumed by that same feeling of utter peace.

When the neckline of the dress was opened enough, her sleeves already sliding down her arms, she just let go.

The dress pooled around her feet, leaving her in nothing but a pair of simple underpants. She couldn’t help the subtle flush that crept up her chest, her heart picking up pace just slightly, but her Shadowsinger’s reaction was all worth it.

It was like he got struck by lightning. Azriel sucked in an audible breath, his eyes unblinking as if she were a spirit and gone when he closed his eyes for just a second too long. His hands flexed by his sides, probably wanting to reach for her but giving her more time to adjust to this.

“You are breathtaking, Gwyn.”, he simply said, his body slowly starting to move towards her. His steps were measured and careful, eyes never straying from her form. When he stood right in front of her, he interlaced his fingers with hers before continuing to walk all the way behind her back.

Gwyn remained rooted to the spot, unmoving except for the wave of goosebumps that travelled all across her body when he brought his lips to her shoulder. A soft kiss here, another there, then, suddenly, Gwyn felt something cold on her waist.

Her muscles reacted before she noticed that it just had been Azriel’s bare hand. They contracted for a split second. But he drew away from her nonetheless, trying to figure out it she was genuinely scared.

“Gwyn?”, was all he asked.

She released a shaky breath. “I’m good, it felt cold, that’s all.”

A heartbeat of silence, then another. Gwyn started to wonder if she said something wrong, or if he didn’t believe her.

“I could wear gloves if you’d prefer that. I don’t mind.”

His voice was business-like as it travelled over Gwyn’s bare shoulders to her ear. But that nonchalance of his was practiced, forced, making it appear as if hiding away his insecurity wasn’t a big deal. Gwyn couldn’t believe her ears.

She half turned in his direction, lips parted in – offence? She did feel a little offended that he thought he had to hide away his scars from her. “Azriel, I jumped because I didn’t expect a touch there, and I didn’t expect the coldness.”

It just occurred to her, in this moment, that she might not be the only nervous fae in the room. Azriel just always hid it so well, had that mask of indifference and confidence protecting him from showing his vulnerable side. And before that night, he never really touched her bare skin, except her hands and arms.

Gwyn turned to him fully now, so close her chest brushed against the fabric of his tunic. She interlaced her hands with both of his, bringing them up towards her chin. And slowly, never breaking eye contract, she placed one lingering kiss on his knuckles, and another on his other hand.

“I never want to hear about you offering to wear gloves when you touch me ever again”, she whispered.

Azriel’s face didn’t betray any emotion as he gave a curt nod. He probably wished to pretend this conversation never happened, but it did. And Gwyn was determined to make him feel comfortable with her.

“You know what exactly it was that caught my attention when you noticed me staring during dinner? What got me dreaming about this?”, she asked him, letting go of his hands and slowly caressing his arms all the way up to his shoulders. “I was watching your hands, their strength, the way they moved so elegantly and self-assured. How the muscles on your forearm flexed when you moved. And I wished…”, Gwyn had so swallow, her throat dry from excitement, “I wished that those hands touched me. That they explored my body all night, and then held me as I fell asleep.”

She smiled at him as his expression softened almost imperceptibly. Gwyn was a master now at reading Azriel’s micro expressions, and she knew he started to believe her. “And I will always know it’s you who touches me. Not anyone. You.”

It was Azriel’s turn to swallow now. But he didn’t respond to her. Well, not using words anyways.

With those incredible Illyrian reflexes, he moved on her. Gwyn blinked and then found herself perched on the wardrobe again, Azriel resuming his place wedged between her spread legs. His hands cradled her head as he kissed her with abandon. Gwyn’s senses went into overdrive, every brush of his tongue on her lips sent sparks of electricity straight into her core. She tried to reciprocate, to give him her everything in return, but it was like something had snapped inside the male. He devoured her mouth, biting and licking at her thoroughly. He drew noises out of her that Gwyn didn’t know she could make, but they only seemed to spur him on more.

“Remind me, where did you wish my hands would be, my love?”, Az broke the kiss, voice all raspy and hot and so incredibly all-consuming that Gwyn only had one answer for him.

“Everywhere.”, she breathed, her own hands clawed in the fabric of his tunic.

Azriel dropped his right hand to rest on the swell of her hip, while his other dragged its way from Gwyn’s jaw down her throat and to her breast. His thumb circled her nipple at an agonizing pace before he palmed her with his whole hand. Gwyn had to look down her body, still in a bit of disbelief that he was touching her so freely, and that it felt Cauldron-damned amazing.

“Like what you see?”, Azriel whispered, one corner of his lips lifted in that cocky smile. Then, his hands suddenly dropped, and Gwyn was being moved again through the room until she stood in front of their large full-body mirror.

“Take off your pants and then sit, my love.”, Azriel ordered, already letting himself fall to the ground behind her. She quickly shed the last layer of clothing and found her space between his spread legs, in full view of her naked body, and the dark form of Azriel behind her.

It was a pretty picture to look at, as much as Gwyn not wanted to acknowledge the lewdness of it all. The pearly white of her skin contrasted beautifully with Azriel’s tanner one, and his black clothing and Shadows. Her hair covered parts of her modest chest, but the Shadowsinger was quick to brush the offending pieces behind her back. “So fucking pretty.” He mumbled, more to himself than to her it seemed, as his eyes raked her form in the mirror, centering in on the flesh between her legs.

“Now you’ll be able to see better.”, Azriel said with a hint of mischief.

Gwyn was worried that she’d see a bit too much, but was willing to submit to him nonetheless. She never felt so alive, so sensual in her own body than now, illuminated by the firelight and in the embrace of her love.

Azriel began caressing her, his hands brushing softly over every inch of her body. They drew lines up and down her side, sometimes nearing her apex but then withdrawing to circle around her breasts again. Squeezing them. Mapping out the skin on her inner thighs. Gwyn was panting, and just like at the dinner table, she wasn’t able to drag her eyes away from Azriel’s hands. The heat between her legs throbbed almost painfully now, but she didn’t want to close her legs hard enough to give herself some relief, since she would have trapped Azriel’s hand with the movement. His own arousal felt painfully hard against her lower back.

“Is that how you imagined it would be?”, Azriel asked from behind her. He knew fully well that he was teasing her, he wanted her to spell it out for him.

“Please, Az.”, she hoped her desperate whimper would be enough to break his resolve. But she was wrong.

“Please what, priestess?”, he kissed the spot where her neck met her shoulder, then bit down on it. “You can ask anything from me. But you need to do it clearly.”

Cauldron damn that male.

She couldn’t say it. That was a line that would need to be crossed another time, another night. Instead, she reached for one of his hands and dragged it down her body, until it cupped her sex completely. Both let out a moan at the feeling, Gwyn from relief, Azriel probably because he could already feel her wetness.

“I need you to spread your legs for me, love. Otherwise we can’t see what I’m doing to you.”

Gwyn complied eagerly, slowly letting her knees fall apart, leaving her completely open and vulnerable to Azriel. Their eyes locked in the mirror.

“You honor me.”, he simply said. Then he removed his palm from her pussy, leaving her bare to their view.

Gwyn never really looked at herself. When she tried to orgasm by her own hand, she only did it in the cover of night, under the blanket and as quickly as possible. Nothing would be hidden now, as she observed the pinkiness of her flesh, the sheen of wetness it revealed.

One of Azriel’s hands travelled up now, enclosing over Gwyn’s throat. He didn’t squeeze, but instead held her in place so that she didn’t miss a second of what was shown in the mirror. And then he touched her.

Gwyn drew in a gasp of air at the first contact. It was different than touching herself, more exciting, unexpected. Azriel groaned behind her at the feel of her warmth. “Is that all for me, my love?”

The priestess nodded. She was truly his at this moment.

His scarred fingers moved up and down her slit for a bit, collecting her juices and spreading them evenly, before he honed in on her clit. His pointer and middle finger drew tight circles around her bud, and Gwyn could have wept for the feeling of utter bliss it brought her. Her head fell back to his chest, eyes still trained dutifully on the spot between her legs.

After some time of circling, Azriel dipped his fingers lower to bring some more wetness straight from the source. He never actually let himself sink into her, but only the little contact with her hole made Gwyn greedy. “Az, I want you inside me, please.”

Azriel grinned, “Look at you, asking so nicely.”

One finger sank into her, up to one knuckle first, all the way in the second time. Gwyn moaned at the intrusion. His finger was longer than hers, thicker, and it had more texture due to the scars. She was so sensitive that she felt every single one of them as he slowly fucked her.

“More?”, he asked after a while with a kiss to her cheek. Gwyn already grew restless between his legs, squirming and moving to just get more.

She watched another finger stretching her, her juices nearly overflowing. Azriel’s hand that previously enclosed her throat now also joined in, resuming the idle circling of her clit from before. The combination of the two made Gwyn feel like she was in heaven. She never wanted this to stop. Maybe she even told Azriel that because he choked out a hoarse laugh at her moans and whimpers.

“Do you think you can come from this?”, he asked.

Gwyn forced her head to move up and down, beyond forming actual words. Azriel’s presence and scent behind her, his hands on her and Gwyn being able to watch it all was too much for the priestess. Her orgasm started building in her.

Azriel kept up the same pace on her clit, but started to finger her fast than before, curling his fingers up when he was deepest inside her. After the haziest and best minutes of her life, Gwyn felt the muscles of her legs flex, the pressure behind her spine dissolving.

She might have called out Azriel’s name when she came. Or it was just nonsense that came out of her mouth.

The Shadowsinger continued his movements to keep her on her high longer, until it became too much and she had to yank away his hands herself. She completely fell into him, every inch of her body relaxed and… happy.

Azriel picked her up and placed her on the bed lovingly. He quickly wiped her clean with a cloth before joining her. The hands that brought her so much pleasure just a minute before now held her closely and safely to his chest. He littered small kisses all over her face, her nose, eyelids and mouth.

“I’m so proud of you, you have no idea.”, he said after Gwyn’s heartrate dropped to a normal level again.

Gwyn smiled. A big, joyous, gorgeous smile. “Me, too.”

Taglist: @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwynriel smut #acotar #acotar smut #gwyneth berdara #Azriel

[h0unds-of-h3ll]

Hands of God

He can't wait until you get to the hotel, so he simply gets his way in the back of his limousine.

50s! Elvis Presley x reader smut.

Word count: 1k.

Warnings: sexual themes, fingering, choking, dirty talk, public touching, teasing.

A/n: This was all because of a little discussion on the Elvis discord.

His meaty paws were already on you the minute you sat down in the back of the leather car. Heavy rings sat on top of your thigh, reminding you of his presence. He’s sweating and his musk is overpowering the small atmosphere. Only thick inky locks falling to graze the droplets of sweat on his forehead. You stare absentmindedly at his being. His thumb circles around the hem of your dress. Bulbs of light flash into the air, capturing both of you. He smirks, his top lip arching. Dark eyelashes kiss his upper cheeks. Long fingers rest along the inside curve of your thigh. His warm palm is a shock of contrast to his cold rings.

It’s deafeningly quiet, there’s no radio playing. No one speaks except the roar of people outside of the car. The driver doesn’t speak, a seasoned veteran to this practice. He knows the regiment. You don’t speak either, too encaptured in admiring God's work. Breathing is the only thing heard, in of itself is a beautiful rhythm. The pads of his fingers are calloused from his guitar. His knee gently rubs against yours as he spreads his legs out wide.

You momentarily glance down at his waist. A gold belt buckle glints softly in the dim light. Trailing your eyes lower, you find that his bulge is already prominent. You knew that he always was passionate about his ambition, however you didn’t realize the extent. His tongue darts out and wets his plump lips. He blinks again, looking at a woman who flashed him. His cheeks turn into a dusty rose. It reminds you that he still is just a boy in his early 20s. The grip on your thigh squeezes. His dark eyes focus on the back of the passenger seat.

The driver gets a signal to pull out and so the motion of momentum somehow makes his hand inch farther up under your dress. He doesn’t seem to mind as he makes no reaction to it. Although, you breathe a sigh of satisfaction. Becoming impatient with his teasing. Why did he always have to prolong things? He never just gives into the prominent desire.

You squirm into his side, resting your head onto his broad shoulder. He brings his other hand to push your hair back from your face. Cupping the side of your jaw, he lifts your face to look up into his eyes. He glances along your features, dedicating them to memory. The blue in his eyes, mock a soft lap of the sea. Similar to the way your stomach is a hurricane from his touch.

He doesn’t kiss you, which leaves you the slightest bit of disappointment. His hand slips from your jaw to the side of your neck. The hand on your thigh rubs along the length, you spread your legs open for him. He stares abandonly watching your emotions swell in your eyes. His strong nose brushes along the top of your own.

“What do you want?”

His voice is hoarse and far lower than it normally is. That’s usually how it goes after his shows lately, sometimes you can’t even hear him from how quiet he is. But, lord, the gravel in his tone is too much to bear. It sends a shiver down your spine. His lip arches into a soft smile. His pinky traces along the lips of your cunt. The limo is becoming a furnace.

“You.”

It’s all you can muster to say, it’s a whisper but he feels your breath fan across his cheek. His rings catch onto the bottom of your dress, pulling it above your thighs. He doesn’t need to look down to see that you’re already soaked for him. He feels it.

“You do that an awfully lot,”

His grip on your throat tightens, constricting your air. Your head grows fuzzy and you can’t even fathom what he’s asking you. You know he wouldn’t hurt you, it’s against his nature. But the thought of his rings digging into your neck, leaving his mark on you burns you alive. His pinky digs into the side of your panties.

“Wantin’ me?”

The driver knows to never look back into the mirror, he’s witnessed the encounters that happen when there's a woman back there with him. It still makes you feel guilty that he has to hear it. Elvis on the other hand is proud of how well he can make a woman feel. He wears the honor like a medal. His fingers on your throat closes and your vision darkens. His hand on your thigh forces its way between your legs, finally stricken with empathy he places two fingers onto your soaked pussy. The burn of your panties stretching causes you to clench around his intrusion.

“Don’t you darlin’?”

His breath smells like the Coca Cola he had in his guest room. You desperately want to taste it on his tongue, hell, just taste his damp skin on your lips. His sweat, his musk, him. Your thighs clamp around his hand and he smiles like a wolf. His white pearly teeth glinting in the darkness. You grab onto his wrist and shut your eyes close. As he pushes his fingers into your entrance he lets go of your throat and presses his lips onto yours. The first wave of oxygen flows through your body. It’s a high pitched noise in the form of a moan that comes out from you and vibrates onto his chest.

He curls those long fingers up into your core, your body starts to gyrate into his hand. The burn of his rings and your panties on your hips stimulates you far too much. It’s pathetic, how your heart swells with adoration and bliss. His tongue pushes into your mouth, your assumption of it being cola was right.

He drops his hand from your neck and pulls your thigh over his leg, spreading you open. The perverted sound of your wet cunt is a melody. He feels your walls squeeze around his thick fingers and he pulls them out. Releasing his mouth off yours and he sits back. You breathe heavily, as if you ran a mile long race. He takes the hand that’s damp with your juice and presses it onto your lips. You open your mouth and let the saltiness flood onto your tongue. His hips jerk upwards when you hollow your cheeks to suck on his knuckles. When he feels like you’ve tasted yourself long enough he takes them out, wipes them onto the bottom of your dress. He takes your leg off of his and pats your thigh. The hand that’s still wet he runs along his barren thigh, trying to calm himself.

Looking out the window he watches the neon signs pass, contemplating on anything but the moment he’s in. You stare at him, mesmerized by how normal this is to him. How strange intimacy with him is. How confident you are knowing that he wasn’t even done with you, that this was just the beginning and he’s trying to preserve himself.

#xreader #smut #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis presley x reader smut #elvis presley smut #young elvis #lord have merthy #drabble #oneshots #public smut

[bettathanyou]

Betta Presents...

WIP WEDNESDAY!!

Welcome to my first take on wip wednesday, where yall get a snippet of a current original fic im brewing up! I thought it would be a cool way to give yall content without stressing myself out with needing it to be finished content. (i work slow asf lmao) Anyways. here is the wip of my upcoming two part fic, titled "The Death Of A Sorcerer; A Requiem Of A Princess"

___________

Cedric stared up at the ceiling of his cell, watching the little beads of water that slipped through the cracks in the stone above drip onto the hard brick of the floor below. Rats scurried in and out of the rusted iron jail bars to his left, carrying the untouched food he cast aside earlier back to their dens.

The tiny cell he occupied had no windows of any sort; the only light available to him was the dying embers of the torches mounted in the hallway, leading out of the cell block. The sorcerer shifts uncomfortably on the hard, freezing cold slab fixed to the wall of his prison, feeling the pins and needles wrack his thighs from sitting idly so long.

Cedric shivers, trying to pull his robe tighter against himself. It was a fruitless task, he knew- his stiffened fingers could attest, from clenching the fabric so taut for hours on end.

Though Cedric hasn't moved more than a few inches since his imprisonment the day prior, his exhaustion lingered down to the marrow of his bones. The sorcerer's mind had provided him no rest since being dragged away in chains- although, he was usually accustomed to racing thoughts that took away his sleep.

But not like this.

Cedric was normally used to the usual spiraling thoughts of "what if" when it came to his magic, his reputation, his worth as a person. Followed by the self hatred when he became a self fulfilling prophecy, and those what ifs became reality.

That was why he threw everything, everything he had into his evil dreams, wasn't it? To escape the purgatory that he was forced to call his reality. To force the hand of fate to deal him a better card. It seemed like his own blind faith, alongside his lofty ambitions, (desperation, in disguise, truly) was just another folly, and he was played for a fool.

Although, Cedric would be lying if he hadn't imagined the possibility of his evil dreams being a failure. The dream was born from him, after all- it was already doomed from conception.

At least, that's what Cedric had initially thought.

Shaking his head, he thinks back to the moment he hesitated to take over Enchancia. Sofia's bright blue eyes, pleading. The tip of his wand pointed towards her, the Medusa stone gleaming with every ounce of misguided resentment harbored from his life thus far. None of it which was Sofia's fault.

In fact, his sights were aimed at the little girl who gave him everything- which Cedric realized far, far too late. Only when Cedric had stood on the precipice of no return, did he find what he was truly looking for; not a crown, not a throne, not revenge.

A friend.

Cedric laughs humorlessly, the echo bouncing off the dampened stone walls. He tilted his chin up, the back of his head bumping into the wall as he contemplated.

How ironic. My greatest failure was also one of the best decisions I ever made.

Cedric takes in a shaky breath, feeling panic at his own demise writhe from the pit of his stomach.

"Probably the only good decision I've ever made." Cedric muttered grimly, digging his heels into the floor. Memories come crashing back into his mind, too quickly to rewind. But one instant remained.

Roland's decree was burned into Cedric's head, his authoritative voice cold and final:

"You will face the guillotine by sunrise tomorrow, Cedric. I sincerely hope you will accept your death with a little more grace, and dignity, than what you've shown me today."

The sorcerer slowly lays down on the bench as the words fade from his mind, feeling restless as his panic flared up again. His back meets the cold slab that hungrily leeched more of his body heat, and he winced in discomfort.

Cedric knew there was no chance of him getting any sleep tonight. He was too restless, and the wheels in his mind kept turning with its relentless pace about what led him to the dungeons at all.

But frankly, he was spent from regretting things that cannot be undone nor forgiven for. He was also painfully bored of staring at the same four stone walls, tracing the grout between each rock aimlessly.

Cedric's eyelids flutter shut, his chest feeling heavy.

Tomorrow, I will die.

Cedric huffs out a slow, resigned sigh.

All the better, Cedric thought, feeIing the back of his eyes burn with unshed tears.

I don't think I can live with the weight of my sins any longer.

#wip wednesday #cedricthesorceror #sophia the first #cedric the sorcerer #cedric sofia the first #current wip #my wips #stf fanfic #uhhh oops sorry yall this one is a doozy

[syrma-sensei]

→ Blow My Mind.

pairing: Jake Lockley x college student!reader.

rating: explicit.

word count: 2.1k

warning: established relationship, sapiosexuality, fluff, bad boy x nerd girl cliché, sub/dom dynamics, daddy kink, fingering, domestic life.

tagging: @wysteria-clad

→ masterlist | ao3

Jake Lockley still can't understand how the hell he got so lucky; having a brilliant woman like you as his girl. You're perfect, just perfect in his eyes. So damn smart and intellectual that keeps him always wonder how you, such a shrewd woman, accepted to be his girlfriend, the light of his life.

With a low grumble, Jake clicks the door of your shared apartment open and steps in with Chinese food bags in his hand.

“Cariño, I'm home,” He rumbles deeply through his chest as he shuts the door close with his foot.

No answer; Jake scowls for a moment, then sighs.

Again...

Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, he wriggles his coat off of him and hangs it with his hat on the top of it, and throws his black gloves on the coffee table after he slipped them off. He aims to the kitchen and empties the takeout on the table, sprucing it up adroitly before he heads up to your study room.

Without knocking, Jake opens the door slowly and immediately spots you sitting at your desk in a very strange position; your back is overly lopsided over the surface, and one of your legs is curled up to your chest as your chin rests on your knee, while the other is dangling over the chair.

A mix of sweet swooning and strange arousal coil at the tip of his stomach. But he got used to it, nevertheless. The thrilled sparks searing his abdomen whenever he sees you scanning a book while wearing your cute reading glasses, or when you babble about scientific facts within your study fields to which he only nods politely and smiles at you even though he understands nothing of what you say. It is odd though, he gets little to nothing of what you normally say when it comes to academic research and things of the sort, but it — you turn him on when you do that. His smart little girl. The one who's thriving for a Master degree in biological anthropology, and dedicating everything she's got in order to obtain it. Jake admires this about you, admires your eagerness and passion for your ambition and your non-stop hard work to reach your dream.

However, and as much as he loves seeing you doing that, he hates how frazzling and tiring it is to you. The ungodly amount of caffeine you consume daily, the dark circles adorning your adorable face, your lack of healthy nutrition, and perhaps worst of all —to Jake at least— him seeing you falling asleep on your books and papers in a crooked sitting position almost every night he comes home after work. Recently, he's added carrying and tucking you safely in bed into his to-do list of the day. Not that he complains about the act itself rather the reason behind it. Today though, he finishes his work on Chicago's streets earlier than the usual, and stops by your favourite Chinese place and grabs your favourite Ramen. Tonight, he's going to talk to you about this at the dinning table with the most serious face he can muster, and he knows how intimidating he can be when does that. It's not like he didn't, he certainly did, but non of it could stop you from harming yourself. You left him no choice.

“Jake!” You squeal cheerfully the moment you turn your head to see your boyfriend, “Babe, you're early!”

Unsurprisingly, Jake almost melts on his spot when he hears your delightful voice calling him ever so sweetly. For a moment he falls numb when he sees your face; the red reading glasses —his favourite— resting on the bridge of your nose so cutely, and the curious look in your eyes that never fades, and he'd be damned if he let anything take that from you, from him, all make him fall in love with you again.

Joder. How the hell is he going to fake a stoic façade to talk to you now?

Jake's face softens as he gazes at you, the love his life, and strides forwards to your chair, “Sì, mi amor,” Once he's behind your chair, you curl your neck backwards, laying your head on the headrest, “Finished early tonight, so we can have dinner together.” He grins widely, trying to hide his promise of admonishment, “Hope you're in the mood for Chinese food.” He pecks your lips tenderly.

“Jake Lockley,” You say when you part your lips, “Have I told you how much I fucking love you?”

“Yes, you have. But will gladly love to hear you say it again,” He kisses your forehead, “And again,” Then he slips your glasses off to kiss your nose, “And again,” Then your chin, “And again...” He slides up and presses his lips to yours again.

You giggle at his playful gesture, and kiss him back, heads upside down, while caress his curls gently.

You sigh when he pulls away, “As much as I'd love to join you instantly, love, but I have to finish this.”

That draws a groan from Jake. So, you pout prettily at him and he sighs, “How much time do you need?”

“Fifteen minutes,” You exclaim.

“Can handle it.”

“Deal.”

You pat his sharp cheek softly as he gives your glasses back before adjusting your position again on your chair. However, Jake doesn't leave, he's still standing behind you, looming and radiating with warmth and heavy scent like a sweet, hazing cloud for you.

You pick up the pen again and re-focuse on your current subject; the evolution of human emotions. However, you feel Jake's large hands set themselves lightly on your shoulders. Moments later, you feel his nimble fingertips pressing skillfully on the stiff spots of your muscles. You chew your lower lips to prevent the relieving sigh escaping from your lips. But alas, the bastard knows what's he's doing. So, you sigh longingly, your head tilts to the side a bit.

When was the last time you and Jake had sex? It's been a while, you guessed. Because the way your body is overly sensitive under his sinful touch gives it away. Oh, how you've missed it; the hot, intimate times with Jake. When he has you under him naked, gasping and mewling his name in the most obscene sounds that you never dreamt of producing. When he grinds into you in the most sensational rhythm while he huffs and utters the dirtiest profanities in Spanish. Or when he has you on all four, smacking your ass red for being a brat while he's plunged inside of you, hitting spots you never imagined they exist.

When he fucks you, he just fucks you right... and good.

So, you lean into his touch, intentionally or not, you want this... need it.

Jake's magical palms and fingers continue to massage your sore neck and shoulders, and you moan in relief, shamelessly, unabashedly. Because he taught you, to never stifle the needs of your flesh from him, to never hide what truly you want. And thus, your body became his; he knows where to touch and where to press, he's aware where to lick and where to kiss. And you never feel vulnerable around him, or maybe you learnt that it's okay and safe to be exposed with Jake. He just gives that sense of security and tranquility.

Unsurprisingly, the effects of his touch sneak to your lower regions, coiling and fluttering in desire. His mere touch stirs your urges.

“Jake... please...” You whisper pathetically, “N-Need more.”

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” He drawls with his accent into your ear; wet mess pooling between your thighs, “Use your words, mi amor,”

You press your thighs together, “Need you, Papi, por favor.”

And that's it.

Jake grasps your nape as if you're a tiny kitten, and perhaps you are to him, with a single hand. And with the other, he drags your belongings up the desk and leans you down on the wooden surface. You whimper again as he shoves your sweatpants and knickers down, pooling them around your ankles.

He soothes your buttocks before smacking them playfully. “The evolution of human sex behaviour, huh?” He chuckles, “Some nasty stuff you're studying, querida,”

You look forwards and the title of what you've been studying spurts at your face; heat smears your ears red, and you cover your face between your arms.

Jake chuckles again, “Now, now, gatita, we've done things a hundred books can't even cover,” He snickers, “With me, it's only about practical science, sì?”

Jake traces his fingers on your dripping folds, playing languidly with them, smearing your cunt with your own wetness, drawing pretty and pathetic sounds from your throat, “You fuck my mind and I fuck this pretty tight pussy of yours,”

Then he shoves two thick digits into your hungry drawers, your head snaps as he hits the bundle of nerves immediately.

“Jake, please, please,” You cry, hands shaking their way to the desk edges to grab on them, “Oh God, Papi, please!”

Jake brushes your hair away from your neck, then he showers your skin with the most affectionate kisses. He curls his fingers inside of you, and the act renders you motionless.

“Papi, please, wanna cum,” You whine weakly, “Can I cum, p-please?”

Ow, his nerdy girl never forgets her manners and asks for permission to cum. He taught her well, his precious, smart princess.

“Cum for me, princesa,” He whispers lovingly in your ear, “Good girl, so good to me.”

The ever soft tone of his deep voice tickles your sensations.

“Jake... Jake... Jake...” You whisper weakly as you shiver your orgasm out. Jake, however, doesn't pull away, your walls clench around his fingers ardently.

“I'm here, princesa, I'm here,”

You fumble for his hand and he brings it to your cheek and caresses it. You grab his larg hand and kisses it affectionately. Jake smiles softly, and cradles your chin tenderly, petting your skin with the pads of his fingers.

“Missed you so much, babe,” you murmur as your head lean into his touch.

“Missed you too, bebita,”

It's a silent apology, silent words of how sorry you are. Because since you embarked on your Master degree, your time with the man you love shortened, your meetings decreased, your dates almost vanished. You felt pressured but he's here for you, always. Never has he complained about your lack of your attention, never has he given any signs that he's upset or annoyed. You only found support and love from Jake. And damn how lucky you are, having him as your man. Your strong, handsome and loving man.

You always feel proud that you have such an amazing partner. Your college peers always wonder how a sweet and delicate girl like you ended up with a man like him. But you know better. You know that underneath the stoic face a warm, welcoming soul, that underneath that intimidating, even scary, persona a loving man who would do anything for you. He's harsh but not with you, he has a profane tongue but you like it, he scares people even better you don't like people yourself, he doesn't give a fuck and does what he wants and perhaps that's the most alluring trait you like about him. With you though, he's almost unrecognisable, he allows himself to be open with you. He's never timid about anything, what's on his mind is on the tip of his tongue. He praises you, indulges you, pampers you like you're the only woman on Earth, and you are to him.

After few minutes, Jake tells you to stay still and wait for him as he goes to fetch a towel to clean the mess you two did.

Once done, he slides your underwear and pants up and kisses your forehead affectionately. “Te amo,” he whispers.

“Love you too,” you whisper back.

He adjusts your stuff on the table, before clasping your hand and heading down to the kitchen.

You shriek in delight when you see the ready table and kiss his cheek.

“Oh my God, Jake, you're the best.”

You hurry to the table and catch a box and open it.

“Wait, princesa, it's cold—”

“Don't care.” You say as you slurp your delicious noodles.

“A'right,” He chuckles, petting your head playfully before sitting at the head of the table next to you.

As dinner passed, you end up patting your stomach full and satisfied.

Jake gazes at you, a wide grin adorning his handsome face. You catch him looking at you and you smile back. “What?”

“Nothing,” He chuckles delightfully, “You just blow my mind.”

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley headcanon #jake lockley smut #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x you #jake lockley imagine #dom jake lockley

[boundinparchment]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - VII

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Expect lore speculation, interpretations, etc. Available on AO3 as well.

Maybe I’m not looking for recognition.  I don’t need to explain myself to a stranger who won’t show me their face.

If only you knew who you’d been talking to.  

His words were meant to get a reaction out of you, granted.  He’d pushed your nerves enough over the years to know exactly what to say and how, the precise route to get under your skin as familiar as the back of his hand.  The average person would have missed the vitriol in your voice, the bitterness, as if your words were left steeping in tea too strong to drink.  

Clearly, your work didn’t have the cathartic effect you were hoping it would.  Always with your heart on your sleeve.

He normally would have been happy to see someone miserable.  Most of the time, he at least managed a chuckle at another’s pain and misfortune.  Petty, perhaps.  But he didn’t live this long nor achieve what he did without a bit of amusement now and again to pass the time.

But the way his chest tightened and his heart ached were unanticipated results.  He wanted nothing more than to tear the wretched organ out with his bare hands.  It wouldn’t fix anything, he well knew, but the desire remained and all he could see was the defiant gaze burning holes through his mask before you turned your back on him.

Seeing you in person, finally, was as exhilarating as it was infuriating.

As he walked through the darkened halls, he reached for the trailing tube of leyline energy over his shoulder, rolling it between his fingers before he began swirling the end with an easy flick of his wrist.  

Everything was on track thus far.  The Artificial God was coming along as planned, the Akademiya was bending to his will quite easily, and he hadn’t even needed to do much convincing to weaponize one party against another.  History had eroded enough of its own legacy; arrogance, pride, and human nature did the rest.

Your time in Sumeru would be limited.  As was his own.  Soon enough, he would have to return to Snezhnaya to finalize a few details for Fontaine, per Pantalone’s request.   

He’d longed for this moment, as far back as he could recall.  He could finally do something about the pesky second connection to the so-called Divine.  Determine whether it would be more useful to keep you or to kill you.  Exploring the bond could be fun, he mused.  He might never get this opportunity again, to see what it was, precisely, that others valued in the matter of soulmates.

He couldn’t waste that, now could he?

_______________

Sleep was a burden to someone like him.

Pesky system maintenance that would happen only when truly necessary.

He retrieved the memories from the Segment, synched them with his own terminal for archival purposes, and skimmed the hastily scribbled report.  The Sages needed to be monitored for any sort of outlier, including their own staff.  Ambitions left unchecked in this environment were precisely the kinds of weaknesses he needed to watch for.

Funny, that.  How the Akademiya did as much as it could to stifle the ambitions of its students with certain proclivities but allowed itself the hypocrisy of pride and arrogance run amok at the top.  They were so easy to convince, especially so with the backing of the Fatui, of the Tsaritsa , an original Archon.  If he had been just a student, just one of the doctors in the desert, they would have laughed again and told him it was impossible.

Their Outcast would be their downfall.

Night gave way to morning before he knew it, the sun dipping its warm fingers through the morning sky to cast its light through the windows of his workshop.  The mechanical form that would house the Gnosis and the Balladeer was almost complete.  Dottore pushed his hair out of his face, making a mental list of the tiny details that still needed to be done.  His Segment could manage them well enough. 

The Sages needed a little reminder of what they stood to lose if they continued to let ego get in the way of the arrangement with the Fatui.

_______________

Dottore strode through the Akademiya’s main hall at a leisurely pace, his back straight, arms behind him as though he was out for a leisurely stroll.  It was hardly a secret, the presence of an expelled Fatui Harbinger and his ilk on Akademiya grounds.  He might have been an outcast but he was not going to sneak around and hide as he used to.  He didn’t need to.

The stories and the whispers students told among one another were truly entertaining.  Dottore chuckled to himself as he heard a mentor remind their charge to study and follow protocol on his way to the House of Daena.  

He grinned viciously as he passed by and said, “Don't want to end up like me, do you?”

The terror on their faces was something he would always relish.

Ridiculous, though, the lack of freedom and breathing room for original thought in these halls.  It took him becoming a Harbinger for his ideas concerning mechanical life and Eleazar and the leyline distortions to be taken for more than delusions of a raving madman.

The library was quiet at this hour, as it always was.  Too late for some, too early for others.  He had devoured most of the books on these shelves, many of which were probably stowed away in the archival stacks or restricted sections now.  After all, he was partially to blame for the tighter restrictions on studying mechanical life.  That rule had been in place before he came here but he never held much regard for such so-called guidelines, especially those imposed by fools falling over themselves over the loss of their precious God of Wisdom.  

A familiar shape out of the corner of his eye caught Dottore’s attention as he approached the central elevator that led to the observatory and the Sages’ offices.  He cocked his head, relying on his peripheral for a moment longer.  He knew that figure, that hair color, and…

Dottore turned his head, his Akasha chirping in recognition.

You, you, you, here, in the House of Daena, of all places, with your flowing sleeves and dedication and ambition …

Ah, so you were an allogene, after all.  A Geo Vision, of all things, attached to your person.  Not all that surprisingly.

A smirk curled across his lips before he whispered, “Found you.”

Oh, he wished he could frame the expression on your face.  Eyes wide, lips parted as your jaw slackened just a bit, color creeping up your neck.  He had never properly seen your features and his fingers twitched at the thought of feeling your bottom lip beneath his thumb, your breath hot…

Alas, there was business to attend to.  He gestured for the elevator to operate and the stained glass doors shut, whisking him high, high above.

He’d be back for you.  

The time for games was at an end.

#dottore #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #dottore x female reader #il dottore x female reader #genshin impact reader insert #soulmate au

[jimblejamblewritings]

snow falls hot | part 4.

Summary: (Y/N) Snow isn’t a Snow at all. She’s a Targaryen— Rhaegar’s child. Taken in by the Starks, she leads her life as another on of Ned’s bastards. Will she be able to live in Westeros comfortably? More importantly, does she have any ambition to see herself one day on the Iron Throne?

Warnings: in this part none but this is game of thrones so…

Pairing: robb stark x reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

A wedding in the middle of a war was not how you pictured your wedding. When you, Brienne, and Catelyn had arrived the camp was almost to Riverrun— Catelyn’s childhood home. After having to be there for the funeral of their kin, Robb and the entire army decided to make Riverrun their home base. Despite living in the North all your life, you had never been to Riverrun. Ned and Catelyn preferred keeping you in Winterfell. It was safer that way. The place was nice— well the places not swarming with Robb’s army. Most of the stuff was already there, now only a few supplies were left to be transferred.

You stayed close to Robb the entire time, head covered and dragon hidden in the saddle bag. Even after arriving, you greeted Lord Edmure and the Blackfish and quickly scurried to the room claimed for Robb. He was left with the task of informing everyone of the ceremony that evening while you worried in the room until he got back. He seemed to sense it as he wrapped his arms around your middle, swaying the two of you from side to side. He kissed your temple and then took one of the white-tipped curls between his fingers.

“We’ll have another one,” Robb said. “In King’s Landing or back in Winterfell. Or even here but with proper preparations, we’ll have the wedding you want.”

The dragon on the table yipped causing the two of you to laugh. Like Godswood, the dragon was black as night with a glimmer whenever light seemed to shine on its scales. Robb tried to pet it again, this time being allowed to. He hissed as the dragon bit at his finger.

“She knows you’re afraid of her. You can’t be, a dragon is a lot like a dire wolf. Strong owners are rewarded with their company.”

“Have you named her yet?”

“Shadow… I don’t want another one, another wedding. This one isn’t perfect but I only want to be married once and I am, to you.”  

~~

Gruff soldiers cleaned up as best as they could. Everyone was actually excited. A wedding was a semblance of normality. Not much could be done in terms of decoration and the food wasn’t any better than it normally was but a wedding was still a wedding. Catelyn, Edmure Tully, the Karstarks, and other important figures stood at the front near you and Robb. They cheered as the vows were finished. You turned away from Robb and to the wedding guests.

“I know everyone is aware of the letter sent by Eddard Stark. He told the truth but it was still only partial. I am still a Northerner through and through, married to King Robb Stark in the North who I am proud to stand beside. And we Northerners do not bow. Now what I say next, for the safety and sake of Arya and Sansa Stark cannot be repeated. The secret I am to share cannot be uttered again until they are safe in our arms, I beg of you.”

The hall grew silent. Robb’s hand found yours and he gave it a gentle squeeze. You breathed in deep and looked at Godswood. With what you could only assume was a nod of understanding, Godswood left and returned with a dragon on his back. Gasps popped up through the crowd. Even the men who seemed to show no emotion at anything had looks of surprise and wonder on their faces. No one could believe the sight in front of them. Murmurs started about how they saw the white tips of your hair but couldn’t say what had caused the random change overnight. Shadow flew, not very far, from Godswood to your shoulder.

“Joffrey was personally responsible for the death of Eddard Stark. With my own eyes, I watched the man who safely raised me die. For such an act, the false king Joffrey Lannister must pay. Lord Eddard Stark will not die in vain. He bent the knee to protect his family and was murdered for honor. I will not bow anymore. My mother was Neryssa of Dorne briefly married to my father… Rhaegar Targaryen.”

You looked to Robb, who hadn’t let go of your hand the entire time. His eyes urged you to continue going.

“I stand before you as (Y/N) Targaryen Stark, first of her name, last of the House Targaryen, Lady of Winterfell, Queen in the North and rightful heir to the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms.”

You looked out at the crowd. You knew most of these men since you were a child but there was still a small thought in the back of your head that now they would turn on you. You stiffened slightly when Rickard Karstark pulled out his sword but Robb didn’t seem nervous at all. Lord Karstark raised his sword high in the air.

“(Y/N) Targaryen Stark!”

The others followed suit in raising their swords and shouting your name with sprinkles of Robb’s name as well. They continued to chant as you and Robb exited the hall. Robb cleared Grey Wind from the room, the dire wolf gladly going with Godswood and Shadow. You took initiative to run your hands down Robb’s back as he closed the door. With a smile, he turned around to face you.

“You missed my name day,” you said. “You didn’t miss much though, there wasn’t any celebration.”

Robb pushed your dress down your body. His fingers attempted to make quick work of the strings. Instead of turning you around for an easier time, he maintained eye contact as he worked to undo the corset strings. You undid Robb’s cloak and belt.

“I can think of a way to celebrate. You look beautiful.”

Your corset joined your dress on the floor. Robb pulled off his shirt. For a moment it was silent between the two of you— air charged and heavy— before your lips crashed against each other. It was an ungraceful walk to the bed, neither of you able to keep your hands from the other one. You were sure you heard whispers and quick footsteps as people tried to avoid the room and the noises coming from it.

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of that,” you said, a lazy smile plastered on your face. “How are we expected to just sleep every night?”

Robb laughed. He covered you with a blanket, pressing a kiss to your back. “I understand why men fight now.”

“What does that mean?”

“After tasting you, I’d be damned if another man tried to have you… You will sit on the Iron Throne and all of the Seven Kingdoms will bow at your feet, I promise you that. I will get my wife back what is hers.”

The two of you settled in the bed, ready to let sleep take over. Morning reminded you that it wasn’t a dream— so did Robb deciding to settle between your legs before leaving for the morning to discuss battle plans. Now a true Stark in name, nothing changed as you greeted whoever you passed on the way to one of the courtyards at Riverrun that wasn’t taken over by army men. Grey Wind followed you and Godswood, the wolf enjoyed seeing his sibling. The two dire wolves settled underneath a tree as they watched you and Shadow.

It was easy to train Godswood. He hadn’t given you much trouble, the two of you bonding right away. But that was a wolf and you trained him like a dog since they were so similar. What was similar to a dragon? Shadow looked at you. The only thing you managed to do was show her that you weren’t afraid of her and deserved to one day be her rider. If she ever got that big— you remembered the tiny dragon skulls in the dungeons of the Red Keep. Your mind flashed to the visions of the ruined tower full of eggs and the book in the center of the room. Trying to remember what you saw, you mentally flipped through the book pages until a word in Valyrian popped out at you.

“Soves.” Fly.

Godswood and Grey Wind lifted their heads at the sight of the small winged creature flying high into the air. Shadow dipped and dived before returning to your outstretched arm. You tried again. Anytime you could recall a word of Valyrian, you would say it and Shadow would execute it. You bent your head and Shadow touched her forehead to yours. You almost jumped back when you were staring at yourself. A blink and you were looking back at your dragon.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

You turned to see Robb coming with some of his men. He greeted you with a kiss and you could see the snickers of the men behind him— you would surely be teased forever. You told him to watch and touched your head to Shadow again. This time you were in fact looking at Robb but not through your eyes, you knew it wasn’t through your eyes.

“She’s a warg,” one of the men said and explained. You thought wargs were a myth.

“A Targaryen that can warg into her dragon. Those Lannister bastards don’t stand a chance.”

You chuckled, eyesight returning to your own body. “Shadow is but a baby. I would hope our war doesn’t drag out so long that she is big enough to rain fire.”

“Still. To warg into the sigil of your house is power,” Lord Karstark commented.

“Power… Grey Wind!”

The large dire wolf bounded over. He would soon be so big that he could be ridden into battle if one chose to do so. You looked at Robb and pointed to his wolf.

“They’ve always said the Starks are magic,” you offered.

His eyebrow raised like he didn’t buy what you were insinuating but Robb knelt down anyway and pressed his forehead to Grey Wind, running a hand through his fur. Robb’s eyes rolled to the back of his head till only the white part of them showed. Quickly his blue eyes returned and he backed away from his wolf to look at you and then his men. The man who first mentioned warging smiled proudly.

“A union of power is what the two of you are. For the first time, I believe in the Crown of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Robb kissed your forehead and said what he came into the courtyard to talk to you about. “We want you in the meeting.”

“A queen should know what her armies are doing,” the man said.

The corners of your lips curled upwards. They spoke to you the way they spoke to Robb and you felt warm knowing you had their faith behind you. You walked with them back inside. Anyone looking on would say the sight coming down the hall was terrifying— you and Robb with a dire wolf on either side, a dragon on your shoulder. Lord Karstark pointed to the map rolled out on the table.

“There aren’t enough men to immediately march to King’s Landing. Lannister men still outnumber.”

“Do we not have allies in Renly and Stannis, even roughly?” you asked.

“Renly’s army died with him. They fight under the Lannisters now. Stannis is as outnumbered as us, he won’t attack them again until he is stronger.”

“So we are stuck?”

“We could attempt an assault on Casterly Rock. King’s Landing is impossible but if we hit the soul of the Lannisters it would sway allegiance to us. However, it would be a great attempt. By the old gods and new, there is a strong chance we would lose this time.”

A man entered the room and grabbed Lord Karstark’s arm. He excused himself saying he would be back but his bannermen needed him. With faint nods of acknowledgement, the rest of you continued your discussion. Karstark could always be informed of decisions later.

“Then… wouldn’t it be smart to go home. Retake Winterfell, force the Greyjoys to bow to us again, try again when our men are stronger. We’d have a dragon, I could write to Jon and we’d have two.”

Bryden Tully— the Blackfish— laughed at your eagerness. “Even with two dragons, my Queen, you send your men home and they will not want to leave again.”

“Winter is coming,” Robb sighed. “If we go back to the North, it’s where we’ll stay. We could get a small band to find Arya and get Sansa but more than that would be near impossible.”

“Maybe that’s for the best? The North is ours and no matter how much Joffrey whines we will not bend the knee. Even tired Northernmen would defend it to the death if he was stupid enough to march on our land.”

“All respect, my Queen,” Bryden started. “Your speech struck something in the hearts of all those men. You and Robb give them hope. They believe in a future where The Crown takes care of them.”

“We can’t take care of them if they are dead.”

“The Lannisters wreak havoc on the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. Not all the men here are from the North. I’ve heard them talk, they can’t wait for the day they can chant your true name through the streets. What you’ve promised is a fair world that the Lannisters cannot deliver. They want to see it in their homelands. You already have love beyond the North.”

With a slow nod of understanding you decided to speak. “Then to bring them this world we need to be smart. We should try for Casterly Rock. I know where you can get more men but…”

The men followed your gaze on the map. You were staring at the Twins. Walder Frey had men upon men and could easily help you outnumber the Lannister army left at Casterly Rock. One of the men looked like he was mentally calculating.

“If we had House Frey back, we could do it. It is an assured win not a potential loss.”

“Frey left after my father’s letter. I cannot marry one of his daughters, I don’t have another Stark to promise him.” Robb’s mouth tight-lined.

“We’ll discuss this later, maybe send a messenger. Old Frey has to want something more than just the Young Wolf with one of his.”

Robb nodded. You and him moved to leave the room. The men could continue strategizing alone. With the discovery of warging, the two of you had a new task to figure out. Robb’s hand didn’t leave your waist as the two of you walked. You chuckled at the sight of Grey Wind. He was slightly larger than Godswood— you suspected because Godswood was found so far away from the others he was probably one of the runts, like Ghost. Even if he was a bit bigger than Ghost.

“Do you know of the rumors about you in King’s Landing?”

“Rumors?” Robb asked, eyebrow raised in intrigue.

“There are whispers that you can turn into a large wolf and devour your enemies, that you ride Grey Wind into battle.”

Robb laughed. “He’s still a pup.”

“A pup that is almost the size of a small horse. One day, you could.”

“One day, I might. And you?”

“What about me?”

“Will you ride Godswood or Shadow? How will you strike fear into the hearts of our enemies, beloved?”

“I don’t want to strike fear.”

Robb stopped walking and turned to face you. Both his hands rested on your waist now as he pulled you close to him. His eyes roamed over all your features, running over your hair, and finally settling on your eyes that had been watching him the whole time.

“I thought you wanted your house words? Fire and blood.”

“I demand fire and blood from those that owe us fire and blood. But I want a new world, a good world. One where children aren’t killed because they threaten legitimacy to a throne… one without the Iron Throne.”

“Didn’t you wa—”

“I know what I said but I was wrong. We don’t need another ruler on the Iron Throne, it is just a chair. A chair that brings misery. That chair doesn’t mark a good ruler. Your men follow you because they have trust in you, they see someone who can care for them like a leader. Sure, there is some fear because they know that a toe out of line and you will correct them. But that is understood as part of your job and it makes them trust you to be good to them even more. All of the Seven Kingdoms deserves that.”

“You are talking about breaking a wheel that has existed since the start of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Aegon Targaryen built the wheel when he conquered Westeros. A Targaryen will break it… I sound foolish don’t I?”

Robb shook his head and gave you a peck on the lips. “You are not a fool. Idealistic, maybe, but not a fool. You want a new world, we create a new world.”

“One like Winterfell, with great leaders like your father. Or the lords in Dorne.”

“A world just like that. But, beloved, to do that and build the world you want will require—”

“Fire and Blood,” you whispered.

“Fire and Blood.” Robb agreed.

You sighed because he was right. Running a hand through his head of curls, you smiled at the man you could now call your husband. King in the North was a title Robb deserved. King of the entire world was what you would give him if you could because it’s what he wanted to give you as well. You opened your mouth to say something else but stopped before a word could come out. Robb looked at your eyes that had widened and noticed you were no longer looking at him but past him. He turned and, at his feet, Lord Karstark dropped the two dead bodies of the Lannister boys that were being held prisoner.

“What did you do?” Robb asked, darkly.

“A father’s vengeance.”

“Vengeance? These boys did not kill your sons. Your boys were murdered by Jaime Lannister.”

You gasped. No one had told you of how Jaime escaped, you only knew that he had gone missing days before you were set to go to Riverrun and Catelyn was partially responsible for it. Lord Karstark laughed, a gruff sort of laugh.

“My vengeance against the Kingslayer was denied when your mother let him go.”

“My mother isn’t responsible for your treason. They were just boys!”

Robb’s yelling brought the other men out of the meeting room. Bryden and Edmure drew sharp breaths at the sight in front of them.

“They are enemies,” Karstark said. “In war you don’t keep company with your enemies, you kill them. Did your father teach you that before—”

Bryden punched Karstark before he could finish his sentence. He was gearing up for another swing when Robb stopped him, causing Karstark to laugh more. He taunted Robb, saying he should have let Bryden continue.

“Young Wolf? You’re soft, act like this and you will be the King who Lost the North.”

Grey Wind and Godswood snarled. Robb barely turned his head as he spoke to the men behind him.

“Hang all of Karstark’s men and escort Lord Karstark to the dungeon.”

“I’m just the lookout. I was just watching.” One of the men sputtered as he was being grabbed.

“Hang him last so he can watch the others die.”

Robb was heated when you two entered your room. As a result, Grey Wind was pacing and growling as well. He ignored as you called his name. Robb kept muttering about the Lannister boys until he just stopped suddenly. You watched as his eyes went white and then looked at Grey Wind. After a few breaths, Robb’s eyes were the ice blue you loved once again and he was calm. You walked up to him and grabbed the sides of his face.

“Are you better?”

Robb nodded.

“You still seem bothered.”

Robb smirked. “Am I? Would you like to help me?”

(Part 5)...

#game of thrones fic #asoiaf fic #robb stark x reader

[victortalkingmachine]

tell us abt fallen london !

ok!! i dont know much lore so thats not what this is about i will just talk about the game in general👍

(for talking about the story/events of the game ill just use first person the whole time it feels more normal i think.)

the basic idea of how the game works is it's a desktop text-based rpg game where you do stories and tasks and get items.

the story begins with you having just gotten to london (which is underground.). you were immediately arrested and taken to new newgate prison, where your cellmate helps you escape. and then you pick where you live (this can change its just where you start). different places focus on the four main "attributes" one can have which are shadowy, watchful, dangerous, & persuasive. i picked spite which is the shadowy location!

(also there are other attributes apart from those four, including respectable, dreaded, [these next two are more skills] monstrous anatomy, & mithridacy. those are just the ones i have. there are "menaces" as well which are basically the bad attributes. those are nightmares, wounds, scandal, & suspicion. and others but theyre less common & i dont have those)

right now i am situated in someone's attic. the rat that lives with me wants me to move somewhere thats not an attic but i have bigger things to worry about.

i currently have a job as a minor poet (i want to become a campaigner or journalist eventually) 👍

there are groups one can be associated with like criminals, the police, revolutionaries, artists, the church, &c... as i've said i've been trying to be associated with the revolutionaries! i will need a lot more money for a special pin though </3. and i dont really know at all how to make money other than selling things....

the main story of the game is called your "ambition", which from what i've heard take about a year to complete, as opposed to smaller stories you can complete in a very short amount of time if focus on them. these include "nemesis", where you try to hunt down the murderer of someone you knew; "bag a legend", where you try to catch some manner of beast i suppose; "light fingers", where you try to steal a big diamond but apparently about a third of the way through there's a big twist and it turns into a really dark horror story; and "heart's desire", where you try to get involved in a gamble for your soul so you can win your heart's desire of course. im probably going to do "bag a legend" when i feel ready to start one :-)

by the way the current event i've been talking about with the airships &c. is an annual thing called "estival". this year it's gardening + a war of sorts. (note: by the time i got into doing this event it was pretty much over; i can still play through it but im not actually helping the war effort im just getting items). i grew a nice plant and got a prize and then i went to a building related to the gardening competition, where a stalactite fell on the building and also on me. sad! and then these ghouls called "starved" started crawling out of it iirc. i ran away and did some helpful things and the ghouls were fought off. but it turns out that they plan to expose london to the sun and burn it to a crisp, i guess? im not really sure i cant remember anything. so we have to go look at the ceiling to figure out whats going on exactly. and someone was like "hey guy still severely injured from a stalactite falling on you!! come captain an airship and look at the ceiling!" and i did and it didn't go very well but i was able to obtain more items. and now im in the midst of the final(?) mission where all the airships are going together

this is kind of a mess but yeah there is something about fallen london !!

#ask #thank you for this ask btw. i <3 just saying things

[rosedmuse]

entitle; for haruseonne 950 days

if i had to write on a wish list just one gift out of millions in the world to treasure forever, then i wouldn't hesitate scribbling your name down on it.

happy 950 days (and more), harutosan! 

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

And thus, it's time his flight is due. Amidst all lies, he very well went and grew. Across endless skies of the brightest blue, A bird of ambition finally soars through.

Ah, lines like these never grow old; never failing to prompt me into being completely honest about just how pretty of a name 'Haruto' is. And so is 'Asuka'.

Pair the two up and immediately a masterpiece is born. A work of art in its truest formーan actor encapsulating the essences of beauty, passion, and an endless pursuit of perfection.

Anyone would think a person of this character exists solely in a realm beyond what an ordinary human can ever imagine. But guess what.

Here I am, sitting right behind the being divine in question.

"Seonne?" He asks.

"Haruto-san," I respond.

"What chapter are you on?"

"Five."

With a shrill almost like that of an eagle, he quickly shifts a quarter around in his seat to face me; looking nothing less than bewildered, "already!?"

A warm, sunny day veils over Veludo Way this morning, making the final couple hours of daytime an ideal setting for an outdoor unwind, specifically at the park.

While parked beside a large tree for shade, an old blanket is laid down onto the grass to get ourselves comfortable on. I take a seat on the spot where the view features children fly their kites and families enjoy their own picnics, and Haruto, who is sits opposite of me, relishes at the sight of the townscape spreading out gradually below us; both of us leaning onto each other's backsides for support. And how could a date at the park be an actual date at the park without... books! I brought with me two volumes from the series I'm currently a huge fan of. Why two, you might ask? Well, the second book's for me; and since I'm done with the first one, my companion promised to start this story alongside me.

"The protagonist reminds me of you," I tell him, eyes fixed solely on the material I have resting on my knees, "strong, smart, a little silly at times but y'know..."

"Hey," Haruto snaps, and I feel a gentle poke by my ticklish side. Glancing back accusingly at him after holding back my sensitive nerves, I meet his lilac eyes and recognize a tiny hint of a tease in them. With a light shake of my head, I return to my page.

It's nice that we managed to finish work a little early today. Sometimes, a brief pause from the world is all a busy person needs to recharge, recoup, and renew the flames driving their fiery hearts forward. Not to mention that today happens to be an extra special day for us, too.

"No, really," I say again, "you do remind me of the protagonist. They're known for a lot of names, too!"

"I'm known only for one other name!" Haruto argues. He may not know it (or simply refuses to admit it) but his sudden outbursts like this make him really cute at times. No way I'm using that word right to his face though or I'd be done for!

He clears his throat. "And, well..." but falters, before he could form a coherent thought out.

Clearly, that doesn't normally happen. Must he be wanting to add something a bit more serious to the conversation?

Temporarily inserting a marker and setting my book aside, I reach out and rest my hand above his shoulder to assure and urge him on. He hasn't directed his eyes towards me yet, so I assume he's still sorting his head out.

"Seonne,"

Wait. His accent changed.

"What's the matter, Harutoー"

"No." He swiftly places his index finger over my lips. Leaning close to my ear, he whispers, "you can call me by my real name when we're alone."

Oh.

Well, this is new.

Mentally practicing every day how the name might sound when I finally can say it aloud seems to have come in handy all of a sudden. What perfect timing.

"So..." After a moment, I clarify, "Genta?"

"Gen-chan," he corrects.

"Gen-chan!?"

"Please."

Extending my arms around him in a hug, I press my cheek firmly onto his shoulder. I may not have seen the reaction on his face, but feeling the weight of his head lightly on mine and him holding onto my interlinked arms, already tells me everything I need to know.

"I 'ppreciate ya keepin' up with me."

"I wouldn't want to keep up with anyone else anyway," I proudly say. "Right, Gen-chan?"

And who could've known that an entity so regal and brave is likewise (though occasionally) capable of showing the world a smile so sweet, genuine and humane?

Although he has yet to own a clue, As to when he'll find out his cue. And once come the first couple few, As fate wills, he is to be born anew.

#a3! yume #a3 yume #self-insert #first person pov #haruseonne