Tumgik
#so i like him as a character and i cherish this part of him
beomnoullitheorem · 2 days
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In The Middle Of The Night
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𖥔 Non-idol AU — Boyfie!Kai × Girlfie!Reader
𖥔 Appetizer — Your boyfriend gets needy at night, he starts using your cunt. Little does he know, you're awake and you're gonna let him fuck you, even at such an odd hour since you can't resist him.
𖥔 Disclaimer — This is PURE FICTION : Nothing in this work aligns with the idols' character, moral and their real life. The characters are all legal adults (18+) and everything happening around & to them is entirely consensual. Readers are humbly advised to read the Contains and Disclaimer before they read.
𖥔 Word Count — 3.9k+
𖥔 Contains — NSFW content = smut, so MDNI! Submissive!Service-Top!Kai, Soft-Dominant!Reader, Lazy sex ( not really ), SOMNOPHILIA, Unprotected Sex, praise kink, PIV sex, petnames, a little of lovey-dovey sex, implied heavy sleeper reader and pervy!Kai, kisses ( like KISSES ), cock warming ( I mean A LOTS OF IT as Kai stays in her for a long time ), mentions of submissive!Kai and dominant!reader, a little of rough sex, squirting ( ? ), sweet cuddles at end
𖥔 Author's Note — I- I don't know why I got this idea or anything but idea of a reader who gives in any of submissive!Kai's whims and praises him is what that literally encouraged me to write this. I just don't know if people will like this kind of thing.
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Kai turns and adjusts. It is still to no avail. He counts numbers, hoping it would all wash away, the sudden insomniac exhilaration rushing through his ( cock ) veins. He wonders how you're so relaxed and so dead to the world, right beside him, which has become a problem for him. Right beside him is not it. Sleeping like that is. Under the dim golden light of the lamp that outlined the white shirt of Kai's you have almost fought him to wear after bathing just because you procrastinated to wear your pieces of garments because the shirt is actually so comfortable than those. The long shirt which reaches below your pelvis, resting lewdly well on your body and hanging till your thighs, a perfect short dress it makes. It is exactly what that's curled up and... I see and feel it all, everyday. But why is her pussy looking so tempting?
The plumpy ass of yours and your freshly bathed velvety pussy are highlighted on display as the shirt slid up in your slumber, so dead to the world as you sleep on your stomach and have parted your legs to your full comfort, turning your back and ass on Kai, and doing a lot of torment to him. What could he do to sleep right now? He was sure, he only meant to adore you. He is sure now, he only wants you to adorably help him with this. The wide-awakened exhilaration is rushing in his cock veins, transforming him into the needy man you always cherish and tend to.
The swarm of dirty and unusual thoughts compel him to wonder if you would notice when he devours a little of your pussy. He sits up and looks at your frame, legs flawlessly split and welcoming his need at this odd hour when the whole world have probably hit the hay or is getting laid. Your hair is a mess, your head turning away from him and yet all the craving he feels, gets him to memorize your lovely figure, sleeping soundly... Shame possesses him for fantasizing so lewdly of your serene, resting figure, but before this shame could possess, his excitement took over him and in the blink of eye, he strips himself off his trousers and oversized black T-shirt.
It will be okay, she'll be asleep and I'll fall asleep once I use it.. she won't notice. It takes a lots of time and persistent nagging in your ears to wake you up. Sleeping is something you have always taken pleasure in, something that gives you beauty and peace. And as time passed by, your slumber has become a hassle for you and everyone around you. It would take numerous alarms at intervals of every 10 - 15 minutes before you could wake up. There are times where you were late to work and events. Your slumber does take you to a dimension where in here, it is completely difficult to wake you up.
'A heavy sleeper' is what he labeled you for your dead antics in your sleep. Kai does what he intends to, his big palms hold your soft, pliant body and turn you over; you're still sleeping on your back as soundly as ever, unfazed with all the movements happening to your body. His hands start working and they knead your thighs, the movements of his hands soothe you more to your sleep but the same hands which traverse to your asleep cunt and clit, his fingers leave trails of feathery touches to your folds and your sensual clit. Goosebumps erupt on your thighs and alerts of greedy and luring soft pinches dancing on your forbidden clit does a little perturbation to your brain. Do his touches not affect you in even in sleep, for your body completely designed to be his, your steady and soft breathing halts and grows heavy and your body experiences the sweating atmosphere leaving you a little breathless in your slumber.
Kai is hypnotized at the way your body pulsates at slight ministrations, he is wholly awestruck. He now harbors no intentions of waking you up but watch you grow hot in sleep at his servicing touches at your clit. He barely presses and toys with the bud and a soft, low whimper echoes from your quiet snores. Kai is utterly smitten and he doesn't intend to stop. His touches, his comforting touch could ship you to the oceans of congenial dreams without bothering you in any discomfort as it is only made to soothe you to your glee and now, his lecherous touch leaving you in borders of consciousness and unconsciousness, the hot air in your room fanning your body and the unholy thoughts creeping in your mind, visualizing a few of dirty scenarios with a blurred man. Kai affects you infectiously. Whines escape your mouth and your slumber is interrupted.
Your eyes wing open and all you wish to do is go back to sleep. That is, until you feel a lots of illegal fingers caressing your entrances as though it were a delicate thing; Kai is completely unaware you're growing conscious as seconds pass by and he bites the bullet as he slips one of his fingers in your dreaming cunt. So warm and semi-wet has it become, Kai's cock starts pulsating from the comfort he is feeling on his fingers. His other hand which owed to tend to your clit starts rubbing the nub, his finger pad moving in circular, the excitement building through the stimulation he is providing clenches your cunt as he drives in another finger in and they devour all the delicious contractions. It is really a wonder to Kai, how you're being so lewd when you're cutely asleep; unaware of your awakeness as he is moving his fingers following the pace of his other hand which is dealing with your clit.
She is so cute like this. Kai's fingers are barely in a pace as they sluggishly pump in short thrusts, with an intention to not wake you up and yet get you wet. Kai has no idea where he's got such boldness from but can't he just enjoy his sleeping girlfriend eho is so sexy asleep? His fingerpads magically transmit a lot of pleasure to your body and your half-awakeness vanishes. Your eyes flutter wide open and you look down to see what's going on between your legs.
Kai is concentrated on stimulating your clit and prepping your cunt which starts moistening as his movements gather a little amount of speed where his hands work perfectly right, for your snoring breath finally turning into a soft whiny one. Kai once again decides to look at your heated state in sleep and your eyes shut asleep the moment his bold yet shy gaze falls on your not so relaxed face secretly. Kai feels too excited within himself for getting to see a salacious sight like this. Something he never dreamed of getting to look at and is he not enticed with every ounce of it, he gulps and gets back to his dirty little errand.
Kai fingers halt when the wetness comes to his fingers while pumping in and out of your pussy as secretly as possible, and his fingers on your clit stop tending to it; your whole breathing steadies when he pulls his fingers out. What he is unknown of is that you're clenching around nothing and awaiting his dick and you're ogling at him as secretly as possible. Kai is naked, just as you ask of him everytime when you both do the nasty. His body, his neck, his heart ( tits ), his innocent yet mischievous face... a smile of wholehearted adoration graces your lips to all of his frame, which Kai couldn't notice as he is jerking off looking at your delicious, welcoming cunt. Closing his eyes and fondling his length while he strokes it as intensely as possible, smearing the pre-cum dripping out of it as he lets out one of the most sinful and low sounds so sincerely at just the moistened sight of your cunt. Kai is hypnotizing, even for you who just woke up and are taking in whatever he bestowed, you let out a few whimpers and wait for him to slide in.
Kai takes one last glimpse at gracious 'asleep' body and aligns his tip along your cunt. A girthy, wet tip prods at your quivering cunt as his cock and he absorb all the trembles that your pussy and your body exude at the intrusion. He sheathes himself as slowly as ever, you cunt embracing his length as if it have waited forever for the warmth of his cock. Kai's finding it hard to not shove into you, a saccharine groan of delight echoes with the same replica leaving out of your mouth with your eyes closed. Kai's swimming in your warmth as he is bottoming out, unwitting that you're whining along with him in sheer delight of getting filled by his stuffing girth. Kai's hands grab your thighs and pull you closer, Kai rolls his eyes back and looks up, exhaling a few moans out. Your pussy probably can not take the desperation, you squeeze him in an attempt to convey that he better start moving through the communication with your pussy. Kai only moans forgetting everything else.
Kai looks at your shirt crumbled up in a mess, he starts unbuttoning the shirt as he hovers over you, and exposing your fresh scented torso and your perky boobs with the soft nipples. His hands grab a handful of your breast and knead them. It is getting harder to contain yourself from the way he hasn't did much but you're dying for more inside. How freaky and exciting did Kai seem for the things he's been doing to you in your sleep, you swear you didn't think it would make you fall for him more. Ugh.. He can't stuff my cunt and play with my tits when I'm dying for him to move.. his hands doing wonders to your boob and nipple, and his still cock, pulsing at your cute, 'unconscious' reactions according to him. This is not getting any better or relieving, the needy anguish in your stomach only begs for more, he best end what he started now.
"You better s-start moving or else no pussy f-from tomorrow."
A throaty croak of a threat shrills out of your mouth for Kai not moving, which trembles him from his head to toe, even his cock is surprised as it twitches, and Kai follows the voice, his eyeballs curve out, his whole face loses its colour in horror. When did she wake up? Was she awake the whole time? Why didn't she make a noise? Why did she decided to tell something now? Will she feel bad when I tried to help myself a little? Will she never forgive me? Kai's throat runs dry and he finds himself at a loss to speak. What should he do at this possible moment? Should he just start fucking or apologize for using your cunt? His Adam's apple bobs at your state– a cheery grin widens your lips the moment you feel him looking at you; your eyelids still droopy, making your marble-like pupils barely visible; they form a crescent from the way you're adoring your boyfriend.
Kai is only scared, ashamed and guilty from the way you smile at his so naively. His face says it all, the sincere mischievousness he has had in himself when he was stimulating you in your sleep has vanished. Kai could ruin the mood and before he could, your hands fly to his cheeks and pull him in a sweet, reassuring kiss. His hot lips meet yours and all the laziness from the sleepiness evaporates at the way they unite with yours and the rush of neediness and exhilaration through your body only heats you up, for your tongue demanding a permission to his lips with an intention to devour his tongue. Kai can barely move a muscle at this kiss, he gives in and lets your tongue in. His tongue follows your movements and tastes you like it is what he knows merely at the way it has grow light headed. You pull away, "It's okay." And smash your lips at his.
Naughty and excited warmth of both love and lust bloom in Kai; the butterflies in his stomach going at carnage, as your mouths move in coordination and your tongues lick eachothers', his hot breath tickles your cheeks as he inclines his head to kiss you deeper, it only makes you breathless and starved. Kai's hand that stood on the bed moves to your cheek, soothing the supple skin and moving down to your jaw, palming your side neck as his fingers lose their sense of location in your hair. The kiss has its own way of working you both to your mutual delight so naturally that you ravish his lips like they own yours and you have to use them full.
What is so much more exciting is that, Kai, is on top– top of you. He insists on being under when you fantasize of him devouring you as you lay under, only for his lips to cast magical kisses at your body and then, your cunt. You yearn to look at his hanging dark hair which brush your skin now, you wish to look at his eyes completely down, locked in yours. This sight of Kai you're picturing, is exactly what that's actualized. But... his kisses, his air, his touch, his sounds transmitted into yours.. they have no buisness in tiring you again, when you're alive and kicking after waking to such a sensual alarm which didn't wish you a good morning but bless such a good cock. His kiss sucks all your strength in as you can't open your eyes at it; the feeling of the kiss still so alive melting all the consciousness in you away.
Kai is short of breath, as he abruptly parts from your lips. He breathes briskly and quietly, his face still inches away and your panting breath combines with his as you finally become aware of how desperately you were sucking his mouth. Though Kai has steadied his breath, it has taken him a brief while to open his eyes and look at you, who is still in an awe as you do not yet open eyes and look at him. It still isn't that easy to open your eyes, his hand rests on your jaw with tickling pressure which doesn't yet give any strength, your closed eyelids twitch and then open, they parade Kai, sweating and red from the heat. His eyes still sift, as they exude a lots of questions. You know exactly what, he's horny and you will help him.
"I can't sleep when your cock is in me, Kai." Your small voice, filled with honeyed tone and breathy words as they escape your mouth so cutely. Kai smiles shyly at your words; a perfect mix of heart and cock warming words. His heart flutters at the way you are not angry at him and let him do whatever he could, completely down bad. As if this is not enough, your hands find his neck and entangle their as your plant a chaste peck on his forehead as you permit him, "You can do whatever, you know right? Use me however, Love." Your smile is graciously infectious, Kai is flustered and is he not whipped, he vows to make you feel good.
His cock pulses inside, excited at the permission. It wouldn't have been so exciting if you were asleep but of course, your moans as your pussy fucks on his dick- he knows that's the best part– to witness you singing in pleasure so mellifluously at his movements. His dick has been in you for a long time, it better start working or Kai might explode. "I'm moving, Y/n," states Kai as he slowly pulls out, the hold on his cock so compact that both of you couldn't hold your moans in. It is leaving your cunt, so lonely it feels inside that you know it through your bones, if he doesn't go back in, you'll be whoring yourself out to him, at this point. Kai, can't be so addictive but he is, you feel it. The way his cock leaves your cunt, it's too painful to have it so empty, the feeling actually making you lose your conscience as you whine as an entitled brat in a demanding way. Kai gets you. Kai can not endure the high, though his cockhead is still in you, he knows he best push inside. Kai's hands slip under your thigh as they grip, the hands perfectly on your thighs and his cock is the next thing pushed inside with the help his hold provides.
Kai's movements are not so perfect but cervix-knocking, everytime he starts pushing in, his cock knocking the breath outside of you. Your body jiggles in unison with his thrusts even when your hands grip the sheets. Strength deserts your whole body at the way Kai is using your pussy, the only movement you know you are able to do is clench on his cock, his heat that transmits in you everytime he pounds in, your body can only take it. "F-Fuck so good, Kai-"
Your little praise does a lot of favour to Kai, his movements quicken and his hips work in such a way his balls slap your ass with such a slick sound, your pussy only making the wet sounds more amiably melodious as Kai's cock collides in it easily as it only pools a lot of slick, leaking fluids. His movements actually grow harder and faster as his cock slips in due to the wetness, Kai can only go along how his cock drives him. He begins to explore your spots angling his cock at different places, as he hits numerous spots. Tears cascade down your cheeks in pleasure at constant pounding on your spots inside, no other surrounding could come to any existence in your eyes. You can only feel Kai inside of you so good that each and have never expected every vein on his feeble, huge cock that weeped for your touch and pussy could have you shedding tears and loud noises from your mouth which you always do, but these noises that shed from your mouth at the way he is fucking into you so carefully, your voice box can only grow sore merely at it; his quest comes to no end, at the way you're crying and begging to not stop; the high so pleasuring and incessant.
Kai's movements do not relent, not even in a tiny bit. Sweat beads form on his head and his voice synchronizes with yours, until he finds your spot and has you clenching and screaming at his accurate thrust. He continually crashes his cock at it so purposely. You are right, having you under is exactly the best thing as he gets to see you cry, beg and moan under him. He should perhaps continue this, though he feels completely abashed, debauched and happy at the way he's getting to fuck you even at such odd hours, so motivated is he for trying so many of new stuff on you. "D-Don't clench like that haah-! I can't l-last more." Kai could barely get this out when he is actually extracting so much noise out of you. You know, you're fucked completely when the pleasure is actually sparking up so much and you pull him in closer using your legs, which only pushes Kai deeper in you. You're trying your best not to clench at him, it's his cock so fat and so good that you can't stop yourself from clenching and feeling him all. Your boyfriend is a freak in the bed, and this fact only makes you clench onto him more. More for release.
Kai's close, as you clench hard at him. He's been with a hard dick for like god knows how long and he could snap at any moment, just like you, who is dangerously close as his thrusts did not just go in and out of you, they explode your mind at each and every one of them, as the room grows hotter and your fingers curl so hard into your palms, digging your nails into your own hold. Your back arches and you could barely even moan properly at Kai's movements getting sloppy and desperate, as the gush of his cum, accumulating in his length to spurt out makes it grow oversensitive as his pace slows and grows sloppy, even that would not stop Kai from getting you to cum as his hands find your clit and you could say 'caress' but his fingers move so quickly on your bud, making you witness electric bolts infront your eyes and make you wail and beg for more and more, clenching around his cock.
He could not take the tight clench of your soft gummy walls kissing at his delicate weeping cock, making him witness stars as his composure weakens at the overwhelming waves of pleasure hitting him as he whines loudly and spurts all his cum inside of you. The warm fluids spill inside of you as his cock buries deep inside and his fingers lose their momentum on your clit, the strong twists and turns in your stomach stop as in some knots snapped, you choke his cock in your cunt, your toes curl and your hands bring in the sheets as your entangled legs push him towards yourself further, a long moan echoes from the core of your voice box and you're creaming his cock followed by a huge splash of your orgasm wrecking you. You're still swimming in that hot, releasing delight, unable to relax as the pleasure still collapses your each vein and cell; you're still in the moment and arched.
Kai falls in love with the quivering torso of yours followed by your orgasm with your face expressioned in overwhelmedness, he looks at you like there is nothing in this world except you. His cock finally softens and he relaxes as he pulls out, his hovers over you as places a soft kiss at your lips and then, forehead. "That was so hot, sweetheart." His gruff voice is toned low as it echoes only in your ears as you relax and open your eyes at his kiss. You smile at him as you pull him in your embrace, Kai loses his balance plops on you. You turn him to side and snuggle in his embrace. Your hand wrap his body and he lets you in; his hands combing your hair in adoration.
"Happy fucking me In The Middle Of The Night?" You shoot a curious look punctuated with a teasing smile creased on your face to which he smiles as in his lips have to form one, when they see yours smiling ( or kissing haha ).
"Very much." Kai pulls the blanket on top of you both as he brings you closer and switches off the lamp. "Let's sleep, Baby."
You rest you head on his hands as you adjust yourself according to that and scoot in his embrace, his hands secure your back and he closes his eyes to sleep. "Good night, Kai," you wish him. "I love you."
"Love you more, darling."
—THE END.
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𖥔 Taglist — @taesxck @soobabby @niningtori @minsikvi
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dramarants · 2 years
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going through the 20th century girl tag to move on and appreciate all the great moments only to find out ppl would rather yijin died than not end up with heedo
#20th century girl#twenty five twenty one#20th century girl spoilers#spoilers#maybe I'm in a weird mood but I can't scroll any more asldkfj#I get why ppl say the movie did it better: pacing + showing aftermath + believable#even though the sadder ending was a surprise they set us up for it and have proper closure to the characters#and while I still have some gripes (what happened to the brother how did woonho diedoes the squad not stay in touch where are they all now)#overall it was solid#but idk if 25 21 pulled a 'he died' I'd be so pissed - it's lazy and thoughtless and not marrying your first love is realistic#their final scenes together were soooo good it's just the reason for parting was unbelievable & present day scenes left us with more qs#but to be like 'yijin and heedo were soulmates and their breakup is unthinkable so...#'instead of growing and moving ahead after all his struggles to establish himself and support his family he should just DIE'#like this 20th c girl ending is so much more heartbreaking imo sldkfjasdlldgfkj#watching him smile at sunrise all hopeful for a future with you he'll never have 22 years later is SO MUCH WORSE#idk I'm glad bora is shown smiling and cherishing what they had rather than mourning (tho she has every right too) but it still doesn't...#...feel like closure to me. but there really is no good parting when it comes to death huh#show me people can treasure their youth and still find happiness and fulfillment in unexpected ways down the line!!#there's a beautiful piece of 90s nostalgia media still waiting in the wings for us I just know it#just don't know how much I can take my heart being ripped to shreds in the meantime 😅#ranting
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I'm just going to say it
Dude Salmael is so fucking pretty like ?????????? If I was told to make a purse owner 5 demiurge he is exactly what I'd do, it's unreal how much of a me character he is
Angel
White hair
Black lipstick specifically
Real face is super creepy
Guns (both as a weapon and a clothing choice)
It's all there
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llycaons · 1 year
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and like....a huge part of wwx’s character/desires even though it rarely comes though in his actual actions (bc he’s driven by things other than what he personally wants) is how deeply he wants to be part of a home and to belong somewhere, and to belong with someone. and this arose naturally due to his childhood but it keeps getting reinforced throughout each tragedy he encounters in the story as well
orphaned at such a young age, naturally he clung to LP and to the family he found there and to the community of people there....and later he threw everything he had into making the BM hospitable and the wens made it more comfortable for him by building him a place that reminded him of his old home...he loves so fiercely and so selflessly and every single family he’s had and every single home he’s had he’s lost to violence and destruction and misfortune and cruelty and he’s been abandoned, relentlessly, again and again and again, left to pick up the pieces and expected to deal with it all alone, rarely with anyone to comfort or reassure him. all this as a teenager/very young adult. all this. the fight that killed jxz was terrible for so many reasons, but one of the smallest details was the most painful - jin ling’s bracelet being destroyed, wwx being told you can never have this, you don’t belong with them. no wonder he was moved to tears when jiang yanli stepped in front of him to defend him to the jins. no wonder he took the estrangement with the jiangs so poorly. no wonder he craves returning to LP long after he believes it to be impossible
and that’s (one of the reasons) why lwj simply standing beside him and vowing to help him postres is so important to him. even if he can’t articulate it, even if he’s too used to solitude not to deny himself it out of habit. there’s a lot of things he wants but this reassurance from lwj satisfied a very deep need he’s had for a long time. to belong with someone, to be supported, to be able to rely on someone else and not do everything alone. something this basic, this foundational to him that he craves even as he reflexively rejects it
I do think he needed that journey at the end of the show but I also think once he’s done with it he’ll never want to be alone for that long again. I think postcanon wwx wants stability. a home. to belong to a place and to a community, and most importantly, to belong with a person, a partner who’s on his side. and I don’t know if that place will be CR but that person will definitely be lwj
#I didn;t know how to end this I started tearing up because I love him so bad and his story hurts so much#he's everything to me <3#I want him to reconcile w his brother...I want him to spend time with jin ling....I want him to hang out with the wens...#I want him to be a very cherished and fulfilled and well-fed husband and I want him to go home to a place he knows will welcome him#I want him to be protected and defended by the people around him!! and not just lan teenagers!!!#I WANT HIM TO PROCESS HIS TRAUMA INSTEAD OF TRYING TO IGNORE IT!!!!#trying to move past it is great except he won't even dwell on it enough for that to be possible#he could use a little wallowing. maybe he needs to get it out#I feel like he's been unable to grieve for anyone since his parents died bc it wasn't his right or because#other people were more important and had to be prioritized or something#it's a particular cruelty that I don't think any other character is subjected to#I want HIM to be prioritized for once!! I want him to take care of himself and be talen care of!!#I want him to be able to grieve! he has like one scene w jyl but that's IT!!!#I want him to be able to express himself and know he won't be punished for it! I want him not to feel guilty about receiving affection!#<- when I get really into it I start channeling the spirit of lwj. but I can't help it he stresses me out so much and I love him to death#nobody ever sat down and said 'wow the way the jiang parents treated you while send you all away during the attack was really messed up#and its not true it wasn't your fault and you should have been protected' BUT NOBODY WILL. because he won't TELL anyone about it and jc#probably didn't even register since he was in a nightmare of his own#like I know jc and wwx love each other but jc does not have the emotional capacity to be who wwx needs....not even that it's a failing#on jc's part it's just too much of an emotional burden and he's not used to needing to handle it bc wwx lies about it#jc is not. suited for taking care of people to put it lightly. he tries. he does love. but he's...continuously led by his own needs/wants#and he seems to find it difficult to empathize with or prioritize others#and even when he does it's very. rough. agressive. I see glimmers of hope for the future in the final scene. he smiled!!!#but the way he;s been so far#which makes it nightmarishly difficult to maintain or create a relationship w him. even his siblings found it hard/draining#except jyl ig bc shes an ANGEL but if that was my brother. god id be tired all day#cql txp
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sordidmusings · 6 months
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Cuddling Headcanons - Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men
A/N: Just mulling over something sweet and something to reference back to for my own use in future writings. I just wanna give all of them some love tbh I am a slut for affection
Includes! Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Luffy, Usopp, Mihawk, Buggy, and Shanks
Warnings: gn!reader, all fluff, opla leaning for the most part but I think it can fit both pretty well, an innuendo or two
Part 2 (drabbles for each character) here!
Enjoy some guided daydreams!
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Zoro
Partial touches during naps were how he started interacting with your personal space but your lap no longer belongs to you it is now his pillow 
Honestly, basically any of you is a pillow whenever he decides - I don't care if you are significantly shorter than him he will find a way to fall asleep on your shoulder 
For more contact, you need to be the one to cling to him but he does absolutely need to be touching you at least a bit 
Once he gets used to it he’ll give you a look any time you’re depriving him of his daily intake of physical affection (the sass king will always get his tribute)
He absolutely melts like a cat in the sun if you massage at any of his muscles, could be anything as much as an evening dedicated to working out every knot he has or as simple as putting intentional pressure behind your thumb as it circles and drags along his skin
He can get nervous about kissing you when it’s not on the lips - something about it feels more vulnerable to him somehow - so if he does venture to kiss your cheek or head or shoulder or hand please reassure him with a smile or your own kisses or a firm squeeze
He gets better about being seen hugging/holding you eventually, but will never get comfortable with giving more than pecks on the cheek or forehead around the others. Maaaaaaybe the corner of your lips if he’s feeling ~spicy~
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Sanji
Back hugs, back hugs, back hugs-
He’s always making sure that the two of you brush hands or arms when near each other, even after you two establish a relationship it will always give him tingles 
Likes to be very intertwined when you cuddle - if he can somehow wrap around you more then he absolutely will
He is The Best at tracing shapes gently on your skin, just like with brushing hands he never tires of it because, wow, he gets to touch you! He still can’t believe it sometimes
Very good at making you feel cherished when he holds you because of the way he always seems to take his time and ease into it and constantly caress you not to say that there’s never a time he’s hurried and ravenous 
It also helps that he’s always whispering sweet nothings to you about how wonderful you are, how beautiful and precious and lovely and kind and capable and special
When he wants to trap you while cuddling, he wraps his legs around you and uses their absurd strength for evil
He will melt if you ever do the same to him and he will happily be at your whims to cuddle until you've decided it's enough, all of you could be under attack but he is staying right where you want until you decide that he needs to move
Loooooves showering you with sweet little kisses anytime you're cuddling
He can sometimes get carried away with pda because he forgets that there’s anyone else around whoops
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Nami
She has her legs on your lap always - sometimes while she's laying/leaning back, sometimes with one leg hooked over one of yours, sometimes basically sitting on your lap
She likes to be the one that is held and feels most comfortable with her face snuggled into something (please nurture her and that scared, lonely inner child)
Enjoys brushing the tip of her nose across you, especially across your cheek or neck or the tip of your own nose
She likes to hook your arms together whether you’re standing next to each other during a convo or you’re walking or she’s sitting next to you, she just loves the casual contact and how she can use it to be playful and pull you around or use it to stay close and let others know that both of you are taken do not even think about it keep moving along dude
She’s very weak to hugs where you pick her up a few inches off the ground for a second, they send her heart racing (bonus points if you’re noticeably taller or shorter than her and do this)
She’s also weak for words of affirmation, especially when you speak them to her while you hold each other in the quiet hours of night 
For some reason literally being on your lap around others is fine but if you give her a kiss to the temple while that's happening? Suddenly it's Too Much, both in how sweet it is and also because she’s being perceived while it's happening
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Luffy
Any/all contact is being had whenever he’s with you
If he’s on the floor next to you then your calf is now his teddy bear, if you’re on the floor near him he’ll snatched your torso with his legs, if you’re sat near him he’s wrapping both arms around one of yours to snuggle it
One of his favorites is leaning your backs against each other, he feels really supported and the way you occasionally lean and twist your head back to nuzzle his or give him a quick kiss makes him smile with the utmost joy
He will carry and move you around in the strangest ways - fireman carry, one arm around your waist while you’re upside down, your knees hooked over his shoulders while the rest of you hangs down, you trying to koala to his side, one time you were curled completely around his waist like a pool floaty - no one understands why you two can’t be normal
Likes to be the one to hold you so he can fidget when he needs without feeling like he has to unlatch you first, this is especially when you two are laid down and/or going to be cuddling together for awhile
PDA doesn’t bother him at all, he doesn’t give a fuck if anyone sees you snuggled up together, doesn’t even occur to him that he should care 
His playfulness will come out often with dramatic “mwah!” kisses, nipping at you, blowing raspberries on your skin, and the occasional tickling
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Usopp
It’s necessary for him to have his arms wrapped around you some way 
Likes to be the big spoon to feel like he’s acting as armor and protecting you, it just hits the right place in his brain that has him feeling Big and Strong in the best way
He loves when you plant a kiss on his chest, especially if you aim one directly over his heart (that is totally at a normal rate plz don’t check)
He likes to play with your hair and/or massage your neck and scalp
Big into making sure wherever the two of you are cuddling is comfy, has many extra blankets and a selection of pillows by size and firmness
Always down to cuddle but feels more comfortable if you initiate first, especially when it’s a new thing between the two of you 
He simultaneously loves pda and is nervous about pda but that nervousness is absolutely gone when he’s drunk or even pretty buzzed
Good at incorporating his head into hugs - hooking his jaw on your shoulder or on top of your head, leaning his temple gently into the side of your head, bumping you softly with his forehead 
Need background noise while you go to sleep? He’s more than happy to hold you and turn on storyteller mode. Honestly, it’s one of his favorite things to do and he cherishes that time together
When it’s bedtime stories he’s telling, his voice is so low and soothing
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Mihawk
This man needs to have his hands holding something on you (your hand, your shoulder, your waist, your thigh, your back, your ass lol), 
He likes to feel wrapped around you like hes hoarding you to himself, this leads to him enjoying you laying on his chest, having all of your weight on him has him feel like he’s fully possessing you
Will definitely kiss the top of your head/your temple/your forehead/basically whatever his lips are near, not a consistent bout of them, more one deliberate peck when the need strikes him (it’s also his customary goodnight to you)
Like the other swordsman, he will give you a look if you miss a habitual touch (especially if it’s the way you usually ran a hand through his hair with a kiss to the forehead before you left the castle, that was non-negotiable it had to happen), his stare however is more the 1000 yard variety and those bright yellow eyes will bore a hole through you until you understand what you did wrong
Something about this man makes me feel his temp runs hot but not in a way that bothers him, like he doesn’t feel hot or overheated but when you touch him the difference between you two is noticeable
It’s a damn good thing that he reciprocates your physical affection, even if 70% it’s just an arm coming around you, because his stony expression makes it easy to assume that your touches are unwanted 
This type of limited response is mostly for more casual cuddling like hugs or sitting next to each other because when you’re laying together his face is always soft and he’s much greedier to be pressing into you
Okay with some pda like quick and passing touches including kisses, but not a fan of anything more intimate when others can see
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Buggy
The Chairrrrrr, as you’ve told him it’s circUS so both of you need to be on the throne (If he’s wanting to look extra powerful or intimidating you have no problem sitting at his feet and holding him like a heroine on a 70s fantasy novel)
He’s a big fan of any possessive gestures - arm around shoulders, back hugs, pulling you to wrap your arms around him, having you sit in his lap
He’s a cuddle switch for sure because sometimes he needs to hold you to remind himself that you’re his and sometimes he needs to feel held
Very fragile for gentle affection - please draw shapes on this man’s back, play with his hair and massage his scalp, give him head kisses, hand kisses, wrist kisses 
Feels like his heart will explode if you nuzzle your face into him whether its into his chest or the side of his head or good lord his pALM (He may have literally fallen apart the first time you did that and if you’re ever in the mood for some Entertainment bring it up) 
He is actually made for cuddling because if his arm is uncomfortable to lay on or starting to fall asleep? He can detach it and now it’s your stuffed animal. This can extend to literally any part of him that either of you feels is getting in the way of the perfect cuddle 
Need to feel needed? The way he’ll pull you into him and hold you like you’re going to disappear will let you know he needs you
Absolutely LIVES for pda, he gets to show you off to everyone and have your gorgeous self make him shine brighter in the spotlight? Nothing could be better
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Shanks
Sharing his space often means one of you sitting between the others legs, whether one is on the floor in front of the other’s seat or y’all are laying down together with one settled further down the bed, this often leads to you laying your head on the hip or stomach or upper thigh of the other 
He mostly likes to be on his back or stomach and pretty splayed out, so you’ve adjusted yourself to gripping to him after he’s taken over the bed
It always makes him soft to think about you always choosing to cling to him without him having to hold you there, it really drives home that he’s something you actively want
Will grope you, sometimes sexually, but he also just likes the feeling of grabbing you, it’s somewhat of a manifestation of cute aggression 
He’s a sucker for getting his neck/shoulders/upper back rubbed while cuddling (which is a pain if he’s decided to be on his back) and he is not above bargaining for it or prodding you like an indignant pet each time you stop (very good puppy eyes), this is one of his favorite perks of having you in his lap
He’s another one to not care about being seen by others but not because it hasn’t occurred to him (like Luffy) but because anyone judging him is WAY less important than getting more affection from you 
His heart gets really tender when you lay with him and massage the stump of his arm and the shoulder above it because it helps with the phantom pains when he has them, it also help with the tension from using the muscles on that side to compensate, and it reminds him how the only thing about his arm that bothers you is that it hurts him
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elixrr · 4 months
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ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ! ☆ ʜᴏʏᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴍᴇɴ¡
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ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
ꜰᴛ: Xiao, Wriothesley, Lyney, Dan Heng, Argenti, Blade.
ꜱʏɴᴘᴏꜱɪꜱ: Headcanons about their cuddles with you!
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I considered adding Alhaitham into the mix, but I figured that I didn't know his character well enough for his part to be accurate and good. Apologies to all of the Alhaitham fans! Also, new format for my fanfiction posts, inspired by many creators! (Namely iheartganyu)
ᴘꜱ: pretty little spoiler warning if you haven't caught up with anything in either game 😭😭
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✰ xiao ✰
— An adeptus of Liyue, the Vigilant Yaksha. It's easy to guess that cuddles with him are rare. Mostly due to his job, but he's too... awkward. Xiao has been touch-starved for the great majority of his life, so it's easy to assume that he's inexperienced, much to his dismay.
Don't get me wrong. He'd love to cuddle more often, but— while inexperience is one part of it, Xiao is ultimately insecure. He strongly believes that he's tainted. He believes that he's a disgusting, vile creature that lives only to slaughter, but he thinks of you as an angel. Xiao thinks that too many cuddles would taint you, alongside the fact that he worries about his Karmic Debt situation.
Nevertheless, when you do convince him to cuddle with you, he'll be awkward at first; hesitant to put his arm here, overthinking how he put his hand there, etc., etc. He doesn't emit much body warmth, but he finds you to be really cozy and warm to the touch, thus finding comfort in the closeness once he moves past the insecurities and hesitation. By the way, unless you like to initiate and contribute to conversations, most of the cuddles will be in comfortable silence, excluding the occasional comment about the scenery or compliments about each other.
Xiao would cuddle on the condition that it's in a secluded area and nobody else is present except for you and him. He'd prefer to book a bedroom at Wangshu Inn, but if not, then he'd prefer to cuddle on the rooftop of the inn, late at night when the stars shine from the heaven-blessed galaxies, the subtle natural light kissing your features to give him a little bit of an extra view. He doesn't think too much about how he looks to you, but he could only hope that he's at least bearable to look at. (Which he very much is.)
☆ wriothesley ☆
— He's so touchy and extra cuddly that sometimes that extra cuddly can be too extra, resulting in a near impossible mission to get out of bed in time for you to even get ready. Wriothesley loves holding you close to him. You're his love, and so he wants to treat you like it, but sometimes cuddles can transform into something a little bit more than just a cozy night, wrapping one's arms around the other.
Speaking of, good luck to you if you prefer being the big spoon, because you can't be the big spoon anymore. Wriothesley will always be the one to hold you, always the one to just wrap his arms around you and cherish you like never before. As previously mentioned, you're his lover, and he wants to treat you like it! Wriothesley wants to make you feel special, like you're the most important person in his life, so he'll do his best to give you that.
Also, I feel as though he'd whisper to you a lot. Even if there's no need to be quiet, he finds it intimate to just lean in and whisper compliments in your ear while holding you close. It doesn't matter what situation you're in; it doesn't matter where you guys are, even if you're talking about your day or the constellations in the skies above, he'll interrupt you, lean in close and just say something about your eyes, maybe your clothes, but preferably your lips.
Wriothesley would also love kissing you at random whenever you cuddle. Not to say he doesn't already do that outside of cuddles, but it's just, to him, you look amazing. You look cute, and why wouldn't he kiss you when you're his gracious lover? He hopes that he doesn't go overboard and accidentally make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, he knows you enjoy it— that smile on your face every time he pecks a kiss on your nose or cheek tells him everything he needs to know.
Before I forget, he doesn't prefer cuddles during any time of the day, but given his job, it's mainly during his afternoon tea breaks, and 100% at night in bed with you. To be honest, if he could, he'd take a full day off just to hold you tight and spend the day with you, wrapped like burritos in a blanket and sipping the day away with refreshments and love.
Some day, he might as well do just that.
☆ lyney ☆
— If it weren't for his job as a magician and as part of the fatui, he wouldn't let go of you. When Lyney can, he clings to you like a lost child who had finally found their parent in a big city. He holds your waist with one hand and performs little magic tricks with the other to impress you. Lyney's a very clingy, touchy lover.
When cuddling, he loves getting super close to the point where there's almost no space between the two of you. But on the occasion, he'll snuggle so close that it's basically just a tight hug—the only difference is that you're both lying down. The only times he isn't super, mega close to you, is when he's making rainbow roses appear randomly around your body. Most of the time, it's all fun and innocent, but other times, Lyney enjoys the look on your face when he does something quite bold.
Also, Lyney's very talkative while cuddling. Even in moments of relaxation, he'll take the time to just stare at you, even if he can't get the full view because of the ungodly lack of space, Lyney will look at you and start complimenting you. He loves you so much, and that's another huge way to show it. He's a romantic kind of guy. If there's a way to show his affection, he will take and use that way to show his affection. He loves your smile; he loves it when you blush, and it slowly grows more evident by the second because he starts to blush, too. Also, Lyney would immediately just hold you more at the sight of your reaction.
Nevertheless, his need to be close can change. Whenever he's out on a mission given by Arlecchino— more specifically, an assassination mission— you won't see him for a good three days. Even when the mission's complete, he'd want to seek out your love, comfort, and affection, but he stops himself. Lyney believes that his hands are still painted with the blood of the murdered, no matter how many times he washes or scrubs them, he'll still see the visible darkening red blood stains. There's no way he's even going near you with those kinds of sins straight on his body. It's sad, and you might have to seek him out yourself if he doesn't show up for the next few days. When you do find him, the moment he sees you is when that wall of guilt shatters, and he nearly breaks down seeing you again. Seeing you every day made him used to you, and just a few days of deprivation made him feel miserable. The simple, mere sight of you had him almost sobbing, running back to you and holding you tight, finally reunited with the one he loves most.
Were he not guilty of association with the fatui, he wouldn't have ever needed or wanted to let go.
☆ dan heng☆
— Blushing little mess. He's never a fan of PDA, so even when he does want to hold you outside of his or your room, he doesn't. Hence why the moment you both enter the private space of a hotel room or a bedroom, Dan Heng takes your hand and leads you to the bed for cuddles. He loves them, really, but he's a flustered mess of a lover because of how embarrassed he felt about being so clingy.
He's a big spoon, too, so he holds you close to him while cuddling. He likes the closeness, but he hates how visibly red his face gets, so he buries his face into your shoulder to hide. Sometimes, he just lays there listening to you or simply calming down in silence, but he does like hearing your voice before bed. It helps him sleep, and it somehow prevents nightmares of Blade. Quick note, your comfort and warmth make him feel safe through the night, and you accompany him when he'd usually be alone, either on his phone or reading a book.
PS: Dan Heng prefers to sleep in your room and/or in a hotel room because your bed and the hotel's provided beds are much more comfortable than a sleeping bag. He loves wrapping a blanket around the two of you and holding you like that. He says it's so you both get an even amount of warmth, and neither of you takes more of the blanket than the other, but he really does it because he feels a bit closer to you.
In his Imbibitor Lunae form, sleeping with him gets a bit harder, simply because he finds it harder to control himself. But when he can control himself, he'll let you run your fingers through his long hair, maybe even letting you touch his horns. Still, he doesn't allow the latter too often for reasons left unsaid. Anyway, he dislikes using this form because of how it reminds him of his former's past. He feels as though he's trapped in the memories and sin that are not his own. Yet, you make him feel comfortable in his own skin. He feels free with you; he feels alive, and he loves you for your ability to make him feel that way. Dan Heng will do everything in his ability to make you feel the same way.
And he likely already has.
☆ argenti ☆
— The most proper and romantic. Compliments littered across your entire figure, his hand in yours kissing your knuckles constantly with the addition of the most rosey and romantic sweet nothings. Argenti is old-fashioned and the most romantic, as he believes that this is the only way to live for his adored Aeon. The most comment compliment you'd hear between kisses is, “you're the most exquisite person in my world,” and Argenti would always wink with his compliments. Sometimes, it's wonderful to be the subject of his rose-colored words, but other times, it gets old; you become slightly lovesick.
The solution to that is conversation while holding each other in bed, or perhaps it's simply ushering Argenti to cuddle with you beneath the stars at night. It's beautiful to see the galaxy in its brightest moments, hovering from the dark skies. Argenti would silently pray to his Aeon, thanking her profusely for letting him see this wonderful view in person.
Still. You are his lover, and sometimes the weight of fear and trauma gets to him. Argenti often looks to you to confide in, and usually, nights like these are rarely cuddle nights, but sometimes, when it gets bad, you'll hold him in the night while he talks about his past— the wars, the music, the old friends, the worries— and how terrifying it can be if he would succumb to the same fate as his once so honorable friend. In exchange for your comfort, he holds you close and vows to protect you in your dreams and from the moment you wake to the moment you sleep again.
Argenti prefers to cuddle in bed, during a picnic, or beneath the stars. He seldom makes exceptions for heavy PDA, but when it comes to cuddling in public, even if there are people around during the day or at night, if it's stargazing or a picnic, he doesn't care as much. He'll smile, his eyes set only on you, not the eyes that may linger on your cuddles.
He doesn't care enough to look at anyone else, not when the embodiment of beauty lays right by him.
☆ blade ☆
— He's cautious. Blade's name takes after his weapon, and though he himself is not a sword, he still worries that he'll hurt you through cuddles. Blade is marastruck, and if it starts to get to him, he's terrified that it'll strike you, too. He admires death and the concept of it, but for you to die and for him to live with that? Impossible.
Anyway, convincing him is still 100% doable. When you do cuddle with him, he holds you with hesitation and care. He doesn't show it, as he masks his emotions with lips pursed to a line, but he feels relief. He feels happy, even, but he can't really tell. The Mara has calmed, and he can catch a break from the trauma. Something worth noting: Blade's trauma might cause him to cling to you, holding you close for comfort and reassurance— but that's only when he finds himself to be desperate for your love and affection. It's the one thing that keeps him together; your smile alone can mend all of his wounds, physical or not.
That can happen at any time of the day, but he'll typically seek you out at night. Blade will— without a spoken word— hug you from behind with a sigh of relief, and he'll take you to the nearest spot with the most privacy, and he'll hold you tight once more without a sign of letting you go. He loves you, and without even saying that he does, you already have all the evidence you need to conclude that he does. Holding you feels like heaven, in Blade's eyes. Once he gets past his fears of hurting you, he'll wrap his arms around your waist, but if he cuddles with you from behind, he'll wrap his arms beneath your chest, all with a sigh of relief and the tiniest hint of a smile.
The two of you cuddling is cute, so cute that Silver Wolf just had to stream it and broadcast one of your cuddle sessions to all of the other Stellaron Hunters.
Of course, you and Blade will never cuddle near any of the Stellaron Hunters ever again after that.
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pinchofhoney · 7 months
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broken promises, part one
part one | part two | part three »
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 1.8k
warning: none
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: coryo is the type of person i sincerely hate and i'm glad that there are no such arrogant people in my life, who think they are better than others and who in crisis situations only care about themselves and to save their own arse. but at the same time i'm aware that young snow could be someone i'd catch a crush on at school. so why shouldn't i hate him even more?
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: you told me to tag you everywhere, so i'm back to doing it again; @wolfmoonmusic
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
The problem with snow is its tendency to melt, mirroring the way we once thought our feelings would endure forever. Yet, shouldn't emotions, particularly those nestled in our hearts, last longer?
You had known Coriolanus since childhood, and your families had always been close. You had grown up together, surviving the hardships of the war-torn Capitol side by side, and now, in the post-war era, you were still inseparable. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you going above a simple friendship. Your connection ran deep, like the roots of the oldest trees in the Panem's forests.
Coriolanus was an intriguing character, a puzzle you had been solving together since you were children. He was the embodiment of Capitol charm, with his perfectly tailored suits, polished manners, and charismatic smile that could sway even the most skeptical of Capitol elites. But you knew that beneath that carefully constructed facade was a mind as sharp as a blade and a heart that carried the weight of his family's fallen reputation.
Yet, when he was with you, it was as if a different side of him emerged. The hard lines on his face softened, and his icy demeanor melted away. With you, he could be himself, unburdened by the expectations of Capitol society. It was a rare glimpse into the man behind the mask, and you cherished those moments even more than your favorite jasmine tea and the cat you found shortly after the war had ended.
You couldn't help but admire his intelligence, his quick wit, and his relentless determination to succeed in a world that often seemed stacked against him. His family's name might have been tarnished, but Coriolanus was determined to reclaim their lost glory. He was driven by a burning ambition that flickered like an eternal flame, and you were his unwavering support, the one who fanned that flame to keep it burning bright.
In your eyes, he was more than the sum of his flaws and ambitions. He was the boy you had shared secrets with under moonlit skies, the man who had held you when the world crumbled around you, and the person who knew you better than anyone else. With him, you felt safe, cherished, and loved in a way that no one else could replicate.
Your love for him was boundless, and you were content in the knowledge that you were his confidante, the one person he could be truly vulnerable with. Your relationship with Coriolanus was the envy of many in academy, a seemingly perfect match of two souls intertwined by fate and affection. You were the golden couple, a shining example of love and devotion in a world that often lacked both.
But you wished you had known sooner that it's often the things we love most that destroy us, as Coriolanus Snow's world was about to collide with that of a girl named Lucy Gray and you were not ready for it to happen.
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As the day of the tribute's arrival approached, you had been by Coriolanus's side more than ever. The weeks leading up to this moment had been filled with your unwavering support. You had reassured him countless times, sitting together in your cozy bedroom, his head resting gently on your thighs while you combed your fingers through his soft blonde curls. It was a calming gesture, one that had become a comforting routine. You listened to his concerns, his fears, and his ambitions, and you were sure that everything would be fine, that he would be just perfect as a mentor, and that his scholarship and dreams of continuing his studies at the university were within reach.
Your words were like a soothing melody to him, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this daunting new role. He would look into your eyes with his cold ones, filled with gratitude, and you could see the weight lifting from his shoulders, if only temporarily. And in those moments, you felt like his anchor, the one who kept him grounded amid the chaos of his own thoughts.
Now, you both stood at the nearly deserted train station, the oppressive heat of the day hanging heavily in the air. The scorching sun beat down relentlessly, casting shimmering waves of heat across the empty platform. It seemed that most of the Capitol's citizens had chosen to stay indoors, seeking refuge from the sweltering weather.
The only other souls present were a handful of stoic peacekeepers, their pristine white uniforms stark against the dull backdrop of the station. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond, a reminder of the bustling Capitol life that lay just outside the station's borders.
Coriolanus tightly held a single white rose plucked from his grandmother's garden, a symbol of his intent to make a lasting impression on his tribute. It was a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of your academy uniforms. The simplicity of the white rose spoke of his sincerity and dedication to this new role as mentor.
With no clear timetable for the tribute train's arrival, the two of you stood patiently, pretending that the day's weather didn't bother you, the weight of uncertainty hanging over you like a heavy cloud. Coriolanus shifted his gaze between the tracks and the single white bloom in his hand.
You observed him closely, and when his gaze finally met yours, you offered a reassuring smile. “Remember, Coryo,” you murmured, “no matter what, you'll be the mentor she needs; your sincerity and kindness will shine through.”
“I hope you're right, Y/N,” he replied softly, his voice filled with a hint of doubt. “I need her to survive on the arena as long as she can,” he added, as if the idea of a group of vulnerable youths engaging in brutal competition in just a few days were the most ordinary occurrence in the world.
But that was precisely what it represented for the Capitol residents – the Hunger Games, an annual spectacle of entertainment.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly under the unrelenting sun, and the station remained eerily devoid of any signs of life. It felt as though hours had passed, but in truth, you couldn't be sure. Beads of perspiration formed on your brows, and you could feel the heat radiating from the platform's surface.
You and Coriolanus were on the verge of giving up and returning to the cool embrace of your penthouses when, at long last, the distant rumble of an oncoming train reached your ears. The sound grew steadily louder, and you looked at each other, exchanging tired glances.
Coriolanus's grip on the white rose tightened as he turned his gaze towards the approaching train. As he rose from the bench where you had sat, his anticipation peaked. You stood beside him, wanting to be his support, but you had no idea that your role was about to change very soon.
The train pulled into the station with a hiss of steam and the screech of brakes, billowing clouds of moisture and smoke into the scorching air. The two of you watched the machine in silent, your heart pounding in your chest. This was the moment when you would come face to face with people from the Districts, individuals whose lives were so far removed from the opulence and extravagance of your own. It was a rare and humbling experience, one that left you with a slight quiver in your step as you clung to Coriolanus, seeking solace in his reassuring presence.
For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened. The train's doors remained sealed shut, as if holding its cargo of tributes in a reluctant embrace. The only thing that reached you was an unpleasant stench wafting from the carriages, a stark reminder of the grim reality that these young souls were about to face.
Finally the impatient peacekeepers took matters into their own hands. They descended upon the train, their authoritative presence enough to scare the tributes out of their temporary sanctuary. One by one, they were herded onto the platform, their expressions ranging from fear to defiance.
And then, your eyes locked onto a figure unlike the others. A girl stood there, her presence a stark contrast to the muted palettes of others tributes. She wore a rainbow-colored dress that shimmered with vibrancy, a flare of color and individuality amidst the sea of old attire. You recognized her immediately from the television screens, a girl whose name had already become a part of your daily life even before this encounter.
Lucy Gray Baird.
The very name whispered in the hushed tones of Capitol citizens as they watched her on the screens, intrigued and fascinated by her enigmatic presence from the Reaping. Her gaze swept across the platform, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked onto each other's.
You couldn't help but break into a warm, welcoming smile. With a cheerful wave of your hand, you signaled to her that both you and Coriolanus were eagerly awaiting her arrival, hoping to ease the initial tension of this life-altering moment.
Lucy Gray's response was a hesitant yet appreciative smile in return. Her steps were slow and cautious as she walked slowly toward you, a palpable sense of curiosity radiated from her, her eyes flitting between the unfamiliar faces that lined the platform.
Your gaze briefly shifted to Coriolanus, a subtle expectation in your heart that his eyes would mirror the warmth you felt. But when you looked at him, you noticed something different. It was as if his eyes were magnetically drawn to Lucy Gray, locked onto her with a nearly unwavering intensity that bordered on fixation. Those eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now held an expression you had never quite seen before. It was as though he had stumbled upon a priceless museum exhibit, left captivated, awestruck, and undeniably intrigued.
A soft, knowing smile played at the corners of your lips, silently acknowledging his reaction to the girl before you. You gently squeezed his hand, a gesture of affection and solidarity. You understood that this moment bore immense significance for him, that he was on the corner of a journey filled with unforeseen challenges. Lucy Gray was the keynote of this new chapter in his life, and you couldn't help but admire her from a distance, captivated by her unique presence and the aura that surrounded her.
Before you could utter a word, Coriolanus took a determined step forward, his eyes still locked on the girl. He extended his hand, offering her the pristine white rose he had clutched throughout the wait and with a subtle nod, he greeted her in a tone that resonated with formality and welcome.
“Welcome to the Capitol.”
part two »
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hotreadingwitch · 1 month
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Bucky x Reader - Whiskey & Wine
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Content Warnings/Kinks: OMEGAVERSE-ish, arranged marriage, praise kink, alpha kink, cum swallowing/play, choking, licking, hickeys, fingering, oral sex, penetrative vaginal sex (+ knotting), impregnation/breeding
Silent, stoic, cruel even, but undeniably 100% Alpha. Y/n had only heard reverent praise and scared whispers regarding the character of her soon-to-be husband James “Bucky” Barnes. She figured it was lower-level werewolves, ones with no real connection to him, that spoke of him this way. Maybe, though logic made her think otherwise, he was simply a kind man with a bad reputation. Surely not, but all she could do was hope…
The traditional march played as the wedding planner, a female werewolf of her future husband’s pack, ushered her down the aisle. Almost tripping on her heels, she tried her best to put one foot in front of the other. She passed her parents, the same ones who’d offered her up for the engagement in the first place, as well as members of both their packs sitting within the small church. Bucky’s back was broad, his stance dominant, powerful, and intimidating. Only when she was firmly planted next to him did he finally spare her a glance. 
His gaze flicked up and down her face, as if he were tracking her or waiting for a particular shift in expression, one of fear perhaps, like he was used to seeing. She jutted her chin, packing away the stories of malice she’d heard about the man standing beside her at the alter, for sanity’s sake if not for her own self-preservation, because, though potentially cruel, he was possibly the most beautiful person she’d ever seen in her life. Her face must’ve flickered with the internal conflict warring within her because Bucky’s gaze sharpened, drinking her in like he’d sip whiskey over ice, slowly and with leisurely purpose. 
Then, just as he’d finished looking her up and down, clear hunger in his eyes, his nostrils flared and his eyes widened. She knew then, flush creeping up the back of her neck, that they’d noticed it at the exact same time…the scent, the intoxicating smell. To her, he oozed of leather, wood, salt, and fire, but also, somehow, of home. His scent was so strong it was almost like a siren’s call. What she smelled of to him she did not know though it seemed he was struggling similarly. Her lips parted as her cheeks heated, almost curious enough to ask, as if the eyes of both their packs weren’t watching curiously from the church pews mere feet away. 
“Ready, Alpha?” the officiant asked, clearing his throat. 
Bucky’s stare was icy, causing the other man to jump slightly. It was as if he didn’t wish for the moment to be interrupted. She tucked that information, as well as the overwhelming realization of what his scent meant, away to deal with after the ceremony. 
Y/n could barely focus on the words the officiant was saying. The religious component of weddings had never truly interested her. After a while, they were coming close to the end of their vows, 
“…through sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part? The officiant asked. 
“I do” Bucky responded, with so much certainty it startled Y/n. 
“And you, Y/n’ he prompted, “do you promise to take James through sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”
The arrangement between them was to broker peace between two confrontational tribes, a marriage made for her on behalf of her parents and his mother. He was older than her by maybe 10 years or so, having just ascended, becoming the Alpha of his pack when his father died. She met his gaze, feeling suddenly, for the first time as if she had a choice. It was something in the open way he was looking at her that made her feel as if she could trust him, as if she didn’t need, let anyone want, to run anymore. 
“I do” 
Bucky’s shoulders sagged in relief and Y/n was so fixated on the movement that she almost didn’t hear the officiant say, “You may now kiss the bride…”
Y/n’s face heated as Bucky gazed at her with nothing but pure want. The hostility they’d both had prior to meeting each other simply melted away, as did the rows of werewolves viewing the moment between them. His hand gently gripped her face, tilting her face upward. Her eyes fluttered closed as he came closer until suddenly his warm lips brushed against hers. 
It was modest, controlled even, and over within seconds. In other words, Bucky’s kiss was nothing like what she’d expected. As she opened her eyes disappointment coursed through her until her eyes caught on his. That smirk, that slight narrowing of his dark gaze. He might not be giving it to her now but he sure as hell would be when a hundred pack members weren’t looking at them in their hotel room that night. 
The crowd cheered as they turned toward them. Bucky’s lips grazed her ears then and she could practically hear the smile in his tone when he said, “Later…” 
She blushed, taking his hand before making their way up the aisle, walking towards the big church doors and their future. 
~
Click. The door locked behind them. 
Bucky’s tall form moved towards her, easily overpowering her space with just a few steps. The hotel they’d been put up in for the night was massive, overlooking the city’s famous skyline, with a king-size bed in the centre of the space. His hand rested on her waist, his thumb caressing her skin. Even the heat from his hand through the fabric of her dress was enough to make Y/n's feelings from earlier all come to the surface. Y/n gazed up at him and judging by the way his tongue ran across his bottom lip, he could tell exactly what she was thinking about. 
“I don’t want to overstep Y/n…” Bucky started, his hand still grazing her waist. 
“I want you to” she interrupted, “Overstep, I mean…I want whatever you’ll give me tonight” 
He cleared his throat and for a second she thought she may have misread the situation, his lingering looks, his words…his scent. Insecurity made her cheeks heat. 
“But only if that’s what—“ 
“Shh,” his hands moved to her warm cheeks before his lips landed on hers, silencing her self-doubt in seconds. She’d normally balk at a guy telling her to shush and yet when Bucky did it her feminist cares went out the window. He kissed her fiercely then, humming onto her lips with pure satisfaction. His hands moved down to her ass as they stumbled backward towards the bed, pushing her down onto the silky sheets. He chuckled darkly as she bit at his bottom lip, dragging her sharp teeth across the delicate skin, “You’re gonna be trouble aren’t you?”
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be” she found herself whispering back, eyes still closed. 
“And if I just want you Y/n? 
That got her to look at him, to truly look, intently searching his gaze. 
“Then you’ll have me” Y/n finally kissed him again, groaning into his mouth as his hands travelled across her body, “Take me, Bucky please, I need you…” 
His hands moved down, checking her expression to make sure she was both turned on and willing, pushing her wedding gown up so that it sat around her waist. 
“Fuck” he swore at the sight of her. 
“Like what you see, husband?” She joked, playfully showing off her lacy, white panties to him.
But all she could do was gulp as his eyes darkened quicker than a rolling storm and he began to slowly roll up his shirt sleeves until they rested just below his elbows, giving her a front-row seat to his strong, veiny forearms. 
“This arrangement is not—” he started only to stop and collect himself, rubbing at his stubbly chin, “You may joke about it now Y/n but the next time the word ‘husband’ comes out of your mouth it’ll be because you can’t help but scream it” 
Before she could even respond, his hands were back on her, caressing the underside of her thighs, spreading her legs wide with gentle but firm pressure. She gasped as he slid her underwear to the side, hungrily taking in the sight of her slick pussy. 
“Fuck, you’re soaked for me baby…” he groaned as his fingers started to run up and down her slit, “…Ruining these pretty little panties”
She whined in response, his fingers felt so good her eyes fluttered shut, her brain zeroing in on the pleasure. 
“Is that okay?” 
“Yes,” she whimpered at the gentle contact, bucking her hips up to meet his touch. 
“Good” he declared, his confidence infectious, turning her on even more. 
“Yes,” her voice was breathier now, desire taking over her body and mind, the need to please him stronger than her will to live. 
Bucky’s finger traced up from her slit to her clit, the simple motion making her shiver and moan softly. He rubbed circles around and around it, languidly, as if he could tease her pussy all day. Her slick made his subtle movements smoother than silk. 
“Such a pretty pussy baby” he kissed at her inner thigh, his growl muffled as he sucked on her skin, “So fucking hot…and all fucking mine” 
Bucky touched her like she was a goddess, like he believed she deserved to come again and again, as long as it was for him and only him. And she could tell it turned him on to touch her. Not only did his pants look extra tight, but his gaze was dark, and his cheeks flushed beneath brown stubble. He groaned as she ground her hips up, feeling his fingers with more pressure, making her eyes flutter shut. 
“Look at me Y/n or I’ll stop touching you right now” 
When her eyes snapped open, Bucky’s gaze was piercing. 
He came up her body as slow as a predator, his tongue grazing her neck in a strong line, cool air tracing where he’d licked mere seconds later. She couldn’t help but shiver. The smooth lick turned to kisses, a smattering of gentleness that combatted his strong command over her pussy and made her melt into him, somehow even more than she already was. 
“…I need you to look at me while I fuck you with my fingers, okay baby? Can you do that for me?” He said as he slunk back down.
“Yes,” she gasped needfully, not taking her eyes off of him. 
“Yes, who?” 
“Yes Alpha” she whined, pulling his hand back to her. 
He slid two fingers into her wet hole, up to the knuckle, and she rocked her clit against his palm, chasing her high, taking everything he was giving to her and more without once breaking his gaze. His other hand mapped her thighs, tracing over her soft skin, almost obsessively. Her back arched at the feeling. 
“So wet, so fucking tight…” his lips pressed between her thighs, causing her to gasp.
She whimpered and whined with every flick of his tongue as he licked like her pussy was coated in the sweetest honey. 
“My needy baby…” He goaded her, making her groan, “Are you gonna cum all over this tongue?”
“Yes, fucking yes” she growled, gasping, “Don’t stop” 
His fingers pumped, curling inside her as they did, his tongue lapping at her clit, until she was on the edge. Her body felt suspended in the air as if she was about to free fall. Back arching, she came, bursting all over his expert tongue. Only after she’d shuddered her way through the feeling did Bucky stop, removing his soaked fingers and sucking up all her juices. 
“See that wasn’t so hard baby” he smirked. 
“Yeah?” She glared, “Why don’t we see how long you can last being teased like that?” 
Bucky’s eyes slowly lifted to hers, “You’re that desperate for my cock?” She aimed to gently slap his shoulder playfully but he caught her hand, grasping it tightly in his, “And here I thought you were a good girl Y/n…or maybe you just want to be fucked like you’re bad?” 
She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips. Bucky grinned fully, canines on display, before throwing her further up the bed. 
“Hands and knees” he commanded, his voice thick with lust. 
The time for teasing was clearly over. Y/n flipped over, adjusting herself so that she was in the position he wanted. If her first mistake was being too playful, then her second was looking back over her shoulder just in time to see Bucky unzip his pants and pull out his giant cock. 
“It’s too big Bucky…” she whined at the sight, tightening instinctively.
“You can take it baby” he stroked her clit softly between kisses on the back of her neck, warming her up again, “I know you can”
His praise made her practically light up inside. If he said she could take then that meant surely she could. To show she wanted it, she arched her back, letting out a small “please” 
He spread her folds, opening her entrance to him before sliding in. She moaned at the feeling, not able to help the way her insides clenched immediately around him. Throwing her back, she was already beyond being far gone. Bucky’s hands swept across the swell of her ass, squeezing the flesh so hard she felt the action in her bones. He thrust slowly, teasing her, dipping his cock in and out of her until he was completely coated in her juices. 
“Fucking soaked for me” he growled as he continued, “You've been thinking about taking my cock all night baby?” 
“Yes” she whimpered and fuck, she really was a complete mess for him, putty in his veiny, sexy hands. 
Bucky’s thrusts continued, speeding up slightly until she couldn’t help but beg him to go faster. 
“Please…” Y/n whined, flustered by his teasing cock, “I need it…it—faster—fuck” 
His hands ran up the space between her breasts from behind before settling around her neck, pulling her up so that her back was flush with his hard chest. Her heartbeat thundered beneath his palm as he squeezed, the pressure gentle but firm.
“You need what, baby?” His voice was rough in her ear, the sound of his breath so erotic she almost came right then and there, “Use your words and tell me like a good girl” 
“I need you to fuck me faster—roughly, please” 
If her request felt stupid to express aloud, Y/n’s embarrassment was literally fucked out of her instantly with the power of Bucky’s next thrust. Her back arched, making his cock hit deeper and causing her to gasp. He slammed into her relentlessly and when she looked back he had that feral grin on his face again. It was like he needed it like this, hard and fast, too. 
“Bucky…” she whimpered, the noise garbled in her throat. 
“Yeah, say my name baby, fucking scream it” he growled, his voice both intimidating and warm.
She clenched tighter around him, moaning at the intensity of the feelings her body was experiencing. He nudged her legs farther open with his knee in response, pushing deeper, eliciting another rumbling groan from her. 
“…Right there” she whispered breathily as his groans of pleasure tickled the shell of her ear, turning her on even more. 
He thrust and thrust and thrust, pushing so deep into her she thought he’d break her. But she didn’t break, in fact, she felt that with Bucky she probably never would. Moaning she bounced her hips back, driving into him, her pussy practically grabbing him and pulling him further inside. Her mind was turned on by Bucky sure, but her body, that was another thing altogether. She seemed to be having a reaction to him that even her mind couldn’t control. It was something deep within her that was attracted to Bucky, something both restless and needy and cellular. 
Logically, she knew he must be her mate. Logically, she knew that having a mate, having sex with a mate, was explosive. What she didn’t know was just how explosive it would truly be. 
“As soon as I smelled you, I knew you belonged to me” he groaned, his thrusts puncturing each sentiment, “Sweet wine, berries in the summertime…Perfect, you’re fucking perfect for me Y/n” 
“I feel—“ her breathing became more and more laboured with each thrust, “—the same way” 
His strong hand, gripped her face, tilting her lips backwards to meet his. Their kiss was passionate and full of all the things they both wanted to say. But they’d found each other, by a stroke of luck they had, and that was all that mattered. Words could wait. 
“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna cum…” he groaned, his grip on her hips tightening even more, “You know what’s about to happen, baby?” 
“Yes,” she affirmed, telling him that she understood before whining, “Please..” 
Y/n could feel it swelling beneath her but it didn’t scare her, if anything it made her want his cum more. The need to have him filling her was so intense, her pussy clenched harshly around him. With any other man her tightening that much would surely push him out but not with Bucky, not with her mate. She could feel his knot, his wet lips on her neck, his hand reaching down to flick at her clit, each pleasure making her gasp. Bucky was everywhere but more importantly, he was everything. 
“Squeeze me, yes—fuck” he growled in her ear, “Taking me so good—taking all this cum for your Alpha” 
“Yes, yes, yes—shit” she chanted, her body blissed out as the waves of her orgasm began to wash over her, “Please don’t stop” 
“I won’t baby, never” 
It was Bucky’s lust, his confession, and his confidence in their future together that sent her fully over the edge. 
“Fuck” he breathed in a harsh breath as her pussy started to milk him. 
She breathed in deeply, holding it in her lungs as the pleasure washed over her, making her body twitch and her back arch. And Bucky held her through it all. His hands roved over her with reverence, taking in her perfect form as it writhed before him as if he was in awe of his skill and how he was able to make her feel that good. 
Only when she’d finally finished and he’d deflated, did he pull out of her. She knew then that, after this experience, they’d never part. They’d needed to fuck it out and now the rest of their lives would be better for it. His lips met hers before he began tracing her warm skin, planting kisses in the wake of his gentle fingers. 
“You know…” she started, blushing as she immediately caught his focus, “You told me what I smelled like to you but I didn’t tell you what you smell like to me” 
“And what do I smell like?” He smiled playfully, eyes still soft and hazy from his orgasm. 
“Home” 
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prettyboykatsuki · 11 months
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I NEED YOU EXCITED, I DON'T WANNA FIGHT IT | Y. OKKOTSU
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✵ tags ; established relationship, friends to lovers, afab +fem!reader, forward!reader, back and forth power dynamics, dry-humping, hickies / marking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding. fingering, dirty talk, 18+
✵ wc ; 7.3k (good lord)
✵ a/n ; written with my beloved @princess-okkotsu in mind!! i hope i did your boy justice </3 and thank u for everything literally wouldn't have passed chem w/o you
so not used to have such little warnings on a fic. lol. title is from fire and desire by drake.
✵ synopsis ; yuta wants to do right by you which is why he's so determined to take your relationship slowly. well, he tries too, anyway.
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Yuta Okkotsu is a believer of doing things the right way. 
He repeats this to himself like a mantra as he hangs out alone in your bedroom. He closes his eyes, elbows resting on the little table, face buried in his palms. Maybe it’s closer to a form of manifestation - like if he says it with enough hooplah it will mean something more than a jumble of words and syllables. 
He must clarify that he is trying to do the right thing right now. He is trying so very hard to do the right thing because Yuta Okkotsu wants to remain righteous where possible. 
It’s part of his job as a sorcerer, now well into his 20’s and more conscious of the world around him. He’s strong enough to put his money where his mouth is and experienced enough to know that trying to maintain some ethical code is part of staying alive in this business. 
And it’s not that Yuta considers himself particularly upright. His friends and colleagues often tell him that he’s a bit unhinged and hard to get a read on. His morals might not always align with greater society, but he never does something that goes against his own beliefs. A lot of which can be summarized quite easily ; anything to defend his comrades.
It really is so important for Yuta to try and be civil in these aspects. Lest he fall into something truly dark. Even he knows what he’s capable of, at least a little. 
That’s why he’s left with no choice than burying all of his thoughts of you and using every ounce of energy he has to suppress it as deep as it can go 
You know, with all the love that’s influenced his life and all of the years he’s spent  learning to be less timid - none of it seems to matter when it comes down to you and him. The logistics of a relationship and the idea of one are two very different things. When it comes to your relationship, he’s been keen in adhering to his strict timeline of milestones. First date, first hand-holding, first deep kiss. It’s a matter of honoring you - because before being boyfriend and girlfriend, you were Yuta’s comrade and companion. Before your relationship status, you're his cherished and valued person. 
So because he’s chivalrous. Because he’s romantic. Because he cares about you. 
And also because the sheer  magnitude of his desires for you perpetually leaves him in a state of distress and disarray. It’s all of the above, all at the same time. And sometimes it leaves him a little overwhelmed. 
He barely manages in his daily life but this? This is torturous. 
Being in your bedroom unprompted is destroying every ounce of self-restraint he’s built through these last three months. He’s made it through your relentless bullying without giving into his Earthly desires.
It’s just too ideal in a way, being in here. Everything feels like you. There’s pictures of your friends and family around the room. Everything has your scent. Your clothes are littered on the floor and hung over the back of your desk-chair. It’s so you and Yuta loves you and he’s not going to survive being in here despite it all.
It’s embarrassing. Yuta is not the timid teenager he once was. But for all the ways he’s good at standing his ground, his demeanor is all but worthless when it comes down to you.
You’re a few years his senior and you’ve always been a slippery character. He’s enriched by your curiosity of the world. You’re a researcher and archivist of cursed information, coming out of the Kyoto branch. You have plenty of accolades and always manage to teach him something new and come out of difficult things on top. 
Mostly, Yuta recognizes all of the good in your heart. He really thinks very highly of you.
There was an obvious passion for your work that Yuta was endeared by in the initial stages of your relationship. Plus you were easy to talk to. You’ve been a good friend to Yuta for years now, ever since you called on him to do some research on him and Rika. And, as the years passed you became closer until one night it hit him that his feelings of admiration were a little closer to something like love. 
And with big, wet tears in his eyes (and a fair bit of liquor in his system) he blubbered about his feelings for you. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting at the time. You were happy which was great, but there was also something so lax about it all. Yuta remembers it so vividly. The way you waltzed up to him, tucked some hair behind his ears and kissed him gingerly with all the confidence in the world. Like it mattered but it didn’t. Like nothing could be more obvious than your feelings for each other. 
“I’m pretty crazy about you too, Okkotsu-san.” 
After asking if that meant you were dating like the bumbling, lovesick fool he is - you officially began going out as a couple. And at first, it was smooth sailing. It wasn’t too different from your usual hangouts.
Eventually though, you had pointed out that it doesn’t really feel like you were dating. Suggested that maybe sleeping together would help break the ice a little. That was what started this moral dilemma. 
Being honest, it wasn’t like Yuta hadn’t considered it. What thoughts he cooked up while alone in the sanctity of his bedroom is between him and the heavens only. It was just the way you suggested it. You saying it made it all feel so real. And Yuta wasn’t sure how to deal with that. He wants to cherish you so much that he felt like he couldn’t consider your offer too lightly. 
And he told you as much, hand in yours and red-faced to which you only blew some hair out of his eyes and laughed. A simple okay, a nod, and a kiss.
Of course, if everything had been smooth sailing this would be a different thing altogether. While Yuta had declined sleeping with you too soon, you had absolutely no plans to make his life easy. He’s not sure how much of it is on purpose. Knowing you, probably a lot. You’re a smart girl, after all.
So all of your bending over and tongue kissing before going home and selfies that just border on boudoir are probably very purposeful. But he’s endured it all. He should cherish you more. He’s been determined to not give in. 
The fact he’s all but ready to blow his load over just being in your room makes him feel pathetic. And maybe he is, a little. But only for you. 
Yuta likes to think of himself as a collected individual. Really.  He knows being this worked up over something as innocuous as his girlfriends room is ridiculous. He knows he’s being ridiculous.
But he really, really wants to uphold his beliefs here. So he’s stiff, sitting with his hands clasped and holding it together just barely. 
He practically jumps out of his skin when you return to your room with a tray of refreshments. 
“Woah, Yuta. You okay?”
He turns around to look at you. A mistake, apparently. His eyes land on the sight of your bare legs before he forces himself to meet your eyes. You’re so pretty to him. Always so beautiful without any effort. 
“Huh? Yeah. Sorry, just got lost in thought.”
You put the tray down on the table in front of him before sitting on the edge of your bed - facing him. The distance between you is minimal. You reach out to pet the top of his head with the palm of your hand, scratching his jaw tenderly. Yuta feels loved by the touch. 
“You sure? Looks like you saw a ghost.”
Your genuine worry makes his spine feel like it’ll melt. He puts his hands over yours, rubbing his cheek against your palm.
“Promise I’m okay. Just—it's nothing serious.” 
“Mm. Even if it’s nothing serious, I wanna know what stuff you’re worried about, ‘kay? So tell me if you want.”
He feels unsteady but so happy. 
“Thank you, my love.”
“Yeah, of course. You wanna keep sitting on the floor or…?”
The minute you ask him, he feels the hair stand up on his neck. 
“The bed…?”
You give him a look of confusion before you break out into a knowing grin.
“Oh, I forgot. I mean to remain chaste, my liege. Just wanna cuddle a bit.”
“Are you making fun of me?” He asks, not masking the pout in his voice. 
You tilt your head to one side, leaning  back on your palms. 
“A little,” You say mischievously, shrugging “I’m used to your lifestyle of celibacy.” 
He frowns at you. “It’s not like that, I just want to—“
“I just want to cherish you because I love you and want you for more than sex yadda yadda yadda. I know. And I respect your wishes even if I think it’s silly.” You say, taking the words right out of his mouth. His frown deepens.
“It’s not silly to me.” He says, almost petulantly. At this, you grab his face in your hands which catches him off-guard. You knock your forehead against his, bent over to do it. 
“I know that too, you dummy. The point is that I’m not trying to get in your pants right now.”
He can’t help but smile, pulling away to kiss at your wrist. You giggle. 
“Well, what do you want?”
“To be wrapped up in each other like otters.”
“So romantic.”
“Right? So get up here.” 
He gives in sooner rather than later. You scoot till your back is along the wall next to your bed and Yuta wastes no more time in joining you. Your bed is crazy comfortable. Just laying it in makes him want to fall asleep almost immediately. He gets cozy  before directing his gaze to you in front of him. He feels like he’s gonna throw up and the only thing that’ll come out is his heart. You give him a look of amusement. 
“Enjoying the view?” You tease. He laughs, leaning forward to tuck his face into your neck.
“Yeah. Smells like you,” 
“So cute.” 
“Don’t know how to feel about being called cute.” He says honestly. He peers up at you and you’re giggling and he can feel his heart rate sky-rocket. You twirl a piece of his hair around your index finger. 
“You’re cute and cool and handsome. Better?” 
“Yeah. Yes.” 
“Mm,” You respond. He looks at you as your expression drifts off somewhere. He can’t take his eyes away from your face “Sorry you had to stay over.” 
“It’s fine. It’d be a shame if you didn’t get anything to look over while we were there. If you make any breakthroughs, it’d be good for Gojo-sensei.” 
“You still call him that even though you graduated so many years ago?”
He flushes slightly. 
“Force of habit. My point stands.” 
“Mhm. Thanks for being so supportive. I didn’t think it was that late, y’know? I would’ve tried to hurry if I knew,” You say thoughtfully “But I like having you over.” 
He gives you a once over as he pulls away, eyes flitting to your lips. You give him a small grin. 
“Kiss me.” 
He looks at you apologetically. 
“That’s not fair. We can’t kiss? Making out doesn’t count as intimate relations, Yuta.” 
“Okay, but it can lead to them.” 
“If it’s that serious, I’ll sleep on the couch.” 
“Wait, no.” 
“Then kiss me.” 
He sighs. 
“Just kissing, okay?” 
“Okay, you monk.” 
He laughs at the comment before pressing his lips to yours tenderly. You have no such intent of leaving it that way - your hand on immediately on the nape of his neck. The softness of your tongue makes Yuta feel like there’s fizz in his head - like the water inside of him is seltzer. He thought you would at least try to give him some mercy. 
He probably shouldn’t expect that from his favorite girl. He pulls away, out of breath. A little line of saliva breaks off between you. Your grin is eye-catching, like glass in the sun. Yuta wouldn’t mind burning in the magnitude of your light. 
“Just kissing,” He emphasizes, trying to be firm. You hum, hand on his cheek. You rub your thumb on his lip tenderly, looking at him square in the eyes. He’s stronger than this, he swears. 
“We are just kissing though?” 
“Baby.” He frowns. A laugh bubbles up from your stomach and he’s so entranced by it he nearly forgets what he’s trying to convince you of. 
“Since when is making out too naughty? Teenagers do stuff like that, Yuta. We’re grown-ups.” 
“That’s the whole problem.” He says back in faux exasperation. You look like you’re going to kiss him again, but you lean into his ear instead. Your breath is warm and ticklish against his skin. 
“Yuta,” You murmur with such clear intent he feels himself break down under the weight “Can’t we have sex, hm?” 
Blood rushes down to his dick so fast he’s embarrassed. He stares at you as you pull away, a look  in your eyes that makes him want to collapse. Of course he does. He wants to have so much sex with you so often it’s starting to drive him up a wall. Is there anyone in the world other than him masochistic enough to turn down the offer? He’s doubtful to say the least. 
“I want to,” He admits. You beam and nod. Your hand slides down to squeeze his waist. He swallows thickly. 
“Yeah? Then why can’t we?” 
“I just..don’t want to rush things,” He replies with as much conviction as he possibly can. The sincerity must reach you because you soften a little “We’ve known each other for a long time. And it was already hard to get here. I just want to make sure it’s right.” 
“You’re so thoughtful,” You murmur to him, running over his hip bone with your thumb “And that makes you really sexy, you know?” 
“What if it gets all messed up?” 
“Our relationship is stronger than that, yeah. It can withstand a handjob.” 
He groans at your vulgarity before laughing. 
“I’m being serious!” 
“I know and that’s so sweet of you. But I really, really don’t think it’ll be that bad if we have sex. We might fuck like rabbits for a few days but that’s not really the end of the world.” 
He feels heat creep up his next as you nuzzle your nose against his, whispering softly. 
“And doesn’t that sound nice? Cooped up in this little room, fucking each others brains out. Just you and me.” 
He feels his dick steel against his will. He looks at you seriously, a fire in his expression. 
“You’re being unfair.”  
“Who, me? Never. I’m just telling you what I think.” 
He groans in complaint. Is this the right thing to do? He doesn’t think so. But it’s not like he doesn’t want to. He really, really wants to have sex and there’s never been such a perfect opportunity. You’re a little too good at turning him on and he’s a little too pent up to think about it more clearly. It feels like the only thing he can think about, a side-effect of this whole conundrum. There is a right way to go about this and he can’t say for certain yours isn’t the one. 
Plus the vivid picture you’ve painted of the two of you fucking in a room for hours is making his whole body burn up with lust. Fuck, the things he could do to you in all that time without it ever being enough. 
Yuta didn’t know he was aching for you so badly until he was this close to having you. 
“Baby,” He can feel how deep his voice is getting. It’s taking all of his strength to keep it in. 
“How do you want me? Tell me. You’ve been thinking about me right?”
“Always,” He confesses, staring at you without any restraint “Always thinking of you.”  
“Doing what?”
Oh. This is… 
Oh.
“I’ve never seen you naked.”
“Then you daydream about seeing me naked? How tame.” 
“It’s more than that, it’s—I want to make you feel good. You’re so good to me. And I wanna…”
You stare at him. You’re so cheeky. 
“You wanna?”
“Want you to feel good. But because of me. All because of me.”
A wave of heat passes through him. He looks at you and you look...different. You look turned on, fingers carding through his hair. Right now all Yuta can think about is how much he wants. A word with so much weight behind it he can hardly keep up. God doesn’t Yuta want you more than he’s ever wanted anything. 
The room feels like it’s hotter than it was a few seconds last. A thick tension spreads over everything like jam. Yuta is too dazed to do anything. He can only watch as you sit up. You guide him to lay on his back and climb on top of him with ease. Your thighs feel warm and soft as you straddled him, taking his hands to put them on your waist.
He slides them up underneath your shirt lightly, enough to feel the warmth of your skin on his calloused fingers. Your eyes lock as you lean forward the slightest bit, caging Yuta in with your hand next to his head. 
“So possessive,” You tease, seeing right through him like you usually do. He really is. He thought he was a little better at hiding it “Already all yours, Yuta.” 
That makes his dick twitch. You must feel it because you laugh at him about it and his hands grip even tighter. He’s gonna lose his mind, being swept up by you so easily. He’s gotten so used to forfeiting restraint. Always goes in head first because that’s how cowards have to learn to fight. But he’s forgotten how to hold back. How to suppress. 
Right now, he feels like an animal. He feels like a restless hound dog, straining against the spiked collar he’s tried to keep himself in place. What does that make you, he wonders? 
In an attempt at transparency, he looks at you and says “I want you so much.”
And your reply is about all the permission he needs. 
“Then take me,” 
Yuta heeds your words and takes. It’s easy to flip you both over from where you are. He mumbles an apology as you yelp in surprise - and he hopes you’ll forgive him for his impatience. He’s been picturing this for months now. He knows what he wants, and that’s you on your back with him on top of you - making you feel so fucking good you can’t stand it. He slots his legs between yours, hovering over you as your bodies press into each other. 
You wrap your arms around Yutas neck with ease and he leans in to kiss you passionately. Despite where you are, it’s clear you're helping set the pace. Yuta is eager to follow. It starts off slow enough but when you pull away once, you're opening your mouth enough to let him in deeper. You stick your tongue out and Yuta follows suit. Everything is so hot he feels like it’ll burn, and you taste like mint toothpaste. He likes swapping spit with you like this, the messy way the drool runs down his chin and yours like you can’t get enough for each other. 
He has no idea how long you stay like that. Just kissing is a dangerous game. The nip of your mouth and the press of your incisors in his lower lip leave him shuddering. His hard cock is pressed against your abdomen, and he can’t help himself but hump into the soft plush of your tummy. Even through the stiff material of his jeans he can feel you. 
He quivers and whimpers into your mouth but you swallow the noise with delight. Your fingers find themself at the nape of his hand reaching up, tugging at the root. You pull away to give him a chance to breathe. He sounds pathetic, he knows it, but fuck he can’t hold it in anymore. Your voice is cool and collected yet rich and heady. It feels like a salve to his raw nerves, calming to him. He closes his eyes and humps into you and everything feels like it’ll disappear. Yuta just wants to give into his base needs. He wants to be all yours as much as he wants you to be all his and everything is so tangled up in his mind. 
“That feel good, Yuta?” 
“Y-yeah. Yes. Oh, yes.” 
You giggle at him a little and Yuta looks up at you. Look at the swell of your lips and the flush and sheen on your skin. Too much, too much, too much. 
But not enough at the same time, he rubs his cock against you again, harder. 
“So pent up,” You comment smoothly and Yuta groans in agreement “Why don’t I help you a little?” 
Unsure of what you mean, he stares at you hazily. You push him off, making him stand to his knees and he watches you as your hands come to the ends of your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it somewhere. You have nothing on underneath. His mouth dries out almost completely. Bare skin of your shoulders and the curve of your neck and your chest so open. Your nipples are hard against the cool air, standing to attention.
Your b0dy is so much sexier than he could’ve conjured up in his head. The real thing doesn’t even compare, and the way you move as you take off the rest is so fucking mesmerizing. Yuta watches you take off your pants next -  you put your legs up to slide them off. 
There’s not a single part of you that Yuta doesn’t want to claim for himself. He traces the outline of your legs, the bend of your knee and the arch of your foot. He should worship you, after all - he was right for trying to restrain it before. If he had this in the beginning, he’s afraid of what kind of person he might become. He’s scared of it even now.
 Yuta is of course the type of man to get sick on his own devotion. He’s always been like that. That’s what the rings on his hands always mean. He wants to make himself sick on you. 
Nothing could be more intense than just watching you undress, he doesn't think. You toss your shorts somewhere, but leave your panties on. Yuta still has his clothes on. The only barrier between you now is a thin layer of cotton. There’s a damp spot on it. He can’t stop his hand from reaching out, pressing into it with his thumb as gently as he can. You gasp. His eyes go wide. 
“It’s okay,” You assure, a smile on your face “Just wasn’t expecting it.”
He hums, dumbstruck, and smooths his thumb over the seam. There’s something salacious about the boundary itself. The material that’s keeping him from just taking you. 
“C-can you leave them on..? For a bit?” He asks. You blink twice. Even if you’re confused, there’s not any judgment. Yuta really does love you. 
“Uh-huh. If you want me too,”  
You give him the floor this time, Yuta thinks. He takes his shirt off too. He doesn’t take his jeans off completely, though. Only unzips them, pushing them down past his boxers to give him some breathing room. And with that he’s back on top of you. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips but moves down towards your jaw. The little fluttery sigh that leaves you makes everything close in around him. Like it’s only you two in the entire world. He leaves them down your neck, down your collarbone and sternum. Warm open mouth kisses trying all over every inch of you. 
His hands shake as he reaches out for your chest. You chuckle and reach for him. Guide them to squeeze your tits firm, a cheeky look in your eye. He tries to take more confidence in it now. Gropes the fat between his fingers, palms over your nipples in appreciation. He’s entranced by it, pushing them together and teasing the hardened buds with the pads of his fingers.
“So pretty,” He mumbles, mostly to himself “You’re so pretty,” 
“You’re pretty too, Yuta.” 
He can feel a blush crawl up his skin. He ducks his head down to take your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan of pleasure that encourages him to suck harder on one and use his fingers to tease you where his mouth can’t reach. Your sighs are shaky and you're gently losing your composure.
 He wants to shatter you completely. 
He grabs your thighs and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist. And you do with his guidance, a well of desire about to burst within him. He adjusts until his cock is snug against your clothed cunt. A broken oh, leaves your lips and Yuta humps into you, shifting until he hits the sweet spot. Your voice sounds again, pitchy and melodic like a wind chime and that’s when Yuta knows he has it. 
He has you right where he wants you now. Bodies pressed into each other and so involved, so together. Yuta can feel you everywhere. He’s always been in sync with you but every notch is turned to ten. The shallow rise and fall of your stomach, the slightest tenseness in your spine that melt away when he gives you a little attention. He has you in his grasp but he wants to hold onto you tighter. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, the way his nerves are revved up.
He focuses on where your lower bodies meet, tongue poked between his lips and furrow in his brow. Drives his clothed, hard cock against your cunt, catching the crown into your clit until you’re shaking underneath him. There’s something so primal about it that Yuta can’t take it. He can’t think clearly anymore, lost in the feeling of dull pleasure. If it feels so good like this, being inside you might be too much. You’re both naked mostly except for where you both need each other. So close in proximity that Yuta can hear each of your short pants. Erratic and almost thoughtlessly driven by one single thing, pleasing you. Feeling each other, all wrapped up together. There’s something romantic about the mutual desperation. 
Drawing out those moans as he sucks at your tits, making you feel how hard he is. How pent up and needy and fucking horny he is all for you. 
Just humping your soft, sweet little cunt through your panties makes Yuta want to risk everything he’s got. The push and pull of too much and  not enough at the same time.  It’s so fucking euphoric. Your fabric keeps wetter and wetter, and Yuta doesn’t know if it’s you or him - his pre-cum dribbling through his boxers. Mixing together so that there’s less friction than there should be, material all soaked through and tacky. 
He can feel your pussy pulse and tremble. Your spine goes stiff and Yuta pulls away to look at you. You’re beautiful. You’re on edge, in complete bliss and so fucking beautiful. 
“Oh, oh, Yuta - shit, like that. G-gonna, gonna,” 
He doesn’t know what overtakes him, but he babbles on pulling away. 
“Cum for me, please—fuck, baby, p-please, need it,” 
You cum the first time just like that. For Yuta, humping each other like two lovesick teenagers. All for him you get all broken. He can’t help but burn the image of you underneath in his head forever. He needs to see it all again. 
“Oh, that felt so fucking good,” The praise feels like it’s being injected into his bloodstream“You make me feel sho good,” 
The slight slur in your words and praise all together makes him too happy. He kisses you, sloppy and lovedrunk, tongues touching and teeth chattering. 
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Yuta says with as much conviction as any one man could have. You laugh so loud it makes him smile. “I don’t wish well for anyone you dated before me.”  And you laugh again even louder. 
“You sound polite even when you’re threatening people.”  You say with nothing but affection. Yuta wants more. He wants you. Even with this quiet lull, he’s thinking about how he can get you to cum again. 
He nudges his nose to your cheek, kissing the corner of your mouth before he talks. 
“I want you to do it again,” He states, slow and steady, trying to feel out your willingness “And then I want to fuck you,”
“Wanna fuck me after you make me a mess?” You say, much more bluntly than he has. You’re not wrong “Are you a sadist after all, Yuta?”
“You look good when you’re messy. ‘s not my fault.” He replies, a little bite to his words. This delights you to the point he's proud. He does his best not to look uncool and this one time he’s succeeded. 
“Make a mess of me, Yuta,” You encourage, probably because you know he needs it. And he does “I want it.” 
“Yeah,” Comes his reply, as he pulls himself off of you “Me too,” 
The pace slows down now. The room smells of sex and Yuta can still feel the blood rushing in his ears but nothing so frantic. He lays you back, your legs undoing from behind him and resting. Yuta kisses your sternum first, a wave of emotion running through him. He puts his hands on your sides, sliding them down to meet your hips and squeezing tight. 
He kisses his down your body like it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He can feel you curl in above him - not completely. But you seem a little astonished, and he'd be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel like he accomplished something. He works his way lower slowly, rubbing small circles into your skin as often as he can. Caressing you and committing your body to memory. He wants you to feel him as much as he’s feeling you, to feel his touch. The tension in the air is strengthened by his silence. 
If he were saying anything it’d be something like this. Like can you feel it? how much i love you? or i want all of you. Things he can’t often muster up the strength to say. He’s good with his words but not good enough to communicate all of it so bluntly. Yuta is brave in areas other than love. Sometimes your adoration makes all the words clog in his throat. This is better for him, the physicality brings him peace of mind. 
He likes how you feel. Your skin is much softer when he compares it to his, feels so different and more plush and comfortable. Yuta likes taking you in his hands and kneading the skin gently enough to relax you. Lower and lower, a trail of wet marks until he’s close to your clothed cunt. He stares at the sticky material, kissing it feather light before redirecting his attention to your thighs. 
He starts again, at the bend of your knee - and works his way inward. He’s rougher now, taking time to mark up your inner thigh with precision. Yuta can’t help himself, placing kisses in the last places his teeth bit you. He does it again and again, up along one thigh and then moving to the other until you’re covered in them. 
You’re trembling with anticipation. A sense of contentment washes over Yuta as his breath fans over your cunt, so completely soaked the fabrics a different color. His tongue runs over the material, a shameless moan of pleasure leaving his mouth. You arch your back, hands reaching to take root in his hair. The sensation of tension on his scalp makes his cock twitch. It’s salty and a little bitter, the mix of his pre-cum and yours altogether. Yuta goes to do it again anyway. The mess of it gets him excited, unconsciously rubbing into the sheets underneath him. 
“O-oh, Yuta.” 
He shivers, hands planing over the tops of your thighs as he brings him down close to him. 
“Yeah, yeah baby. Just me and you,” 
A soft laugh leaves your mouth. Yuta can feel how worked up you are. You’re quiet and tense. Some part of him wants to leave you like that waiting, but the other part of him wants to give you everything you’ve ever asked for. He gives into the latter, because that’s what he wants more. Rolls the fabric off of your legs with a deep sigh, a pleased hum. He loves the way you smell, the scent of sex and arousal mixed with the fancy soaps you keep in your bathroom. Your pussy is as pretty as you are, a sheen of arousal all along your slit. Your clit peeks through, swelled from need. Yuta kisses it without thinking. 
He starts slow. Lays his tongue flat against the seam of your cunt before dragging it up. The taste of you covers his mouth, tangy and slightly sweet - Yuta can’t get enough of you. He moans in appreciation, repeating the gesture as he pulls your pussy close. His nose bumps into your sex. He peers up at you with his lashes. You’re so pretty it makes him want to please. He repeats this over and over - licking at your clit with enthusiasm. Your clit is hard and needy, throbbing against the soft, smooth muscle of his tongue as he gains a sort of rhythm. He gauges your reaction when he tries something new, adding pressure until you’re squirming underneath him. When you start growing noisier, Yuta knows he’s hit the right pace. 
And he stays like that, your pussy soaking his mouth and chin. He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing his fingers between your folds. You let out a soft oh above him, making him want to laugh. He keeps at it, his fingers sliding far enough to tease your entrance. Your hole is twitching without him having done much at all, his middle finger teasing and prodding. 
“Don’t t-tease so much,”  You pant. 
Yuta nearly blows his load listening to you talk like that. He didn’t think you could be so cute. He listens though, pushing his middle finger into you with ease. It doesn’t take too much effort. Your insides are so incredibly wet for him. Your walls are so soft and inviting, syrupy to the touch. Yuta loves feeling them. He gives you time to adjust to the new sensation, fucking in and out slow enough that the tension melts. He gets knuckle deep with his middle finger and when it doesn’t seem like you’re tense anymore - he goes and adds another. 
He does both in tandem - and there’s a period where it’s all a bunch of sensation for you. Eventually it stops being just a feeling, turns into pleasure. He curls his fingers up against you hard, rubbing the soft and spongy area and he can feel you practically lurch forward. Your spine arches, mouth dropped open in a soft ‘o’. Another feeling of pride spreads through his chest, his whole body. He wants you to let go again just like this. While he fingers your weepy cunt and with your clit in his mouth - he wants to see how far he can push. How wet you can get before he ever gets inside. 
Yuta isn’t one for competition or ego. He’s always been easy-going. But something about you being underneath him like this, moaning for him like this - makes him feel like he should put in a little more effort to prove himself. He wants to make you feel so good, wants to see your composure break down steadily. He wants you praise him for it, to fuck each other like animals in the thereafter of your second orgasm. He pushes towards that goal steadfastly, and soon enough your body catches up with him. 
Yuta can practically feel your stomach tighten. You let out a noise, a string of mismatched syllables like a warning. Yuta only hums in encouragement, keeping his pace exactly the same. Feeling it is incredible. His fingers can feel the way your walls tighten up so hard and the tremors of the aftermath. 
Your back curves in a C as you cum, hard for him and he can feel it. He can feel you cum. He can see you, see the pleasure crash into you like a tidal wave. A second. Yuta made you cum twice in a row and he’s already itching to do it a third. 
You practically pry him off as you ride the wave of your high. You sigh deeply, and Yuta licks his fingers. He waits for your adoration, pleased to receive as you pull him up for a kiss. 
“You’re so fucking good, Yuta,” You say and Yuta feels his resolve crumble. He needs to fuck you immediately “So, so good to me baby.” 
He whimpers into your mouth. “I need you.”
You laugh breathlessly, your hand reaching between your bodies to squeeze his cock. Yuta shudders and you giggle to yourself. 
“Yeah. Bet you’re feeling pent up, Yuta. How about I treat you this time? That okay?” 
“Treat me?” 
“By riding you,” You say, smiling at him. He gets chills from the offer “You want that?” 
“Oh. Oh, fuck - please. Please?” 
You smile at him. 
“Lay on your back, sweet boy.” 
Sweet boy. He swallows thickly but does as you say. Lays back and watches you climb over him a second time tonight - this time with a much more obvious intent. He can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous he finds you - no matter how many times he sees you, it’s not easy to get used to. 
You sit up on his lap, naked and beautiful, your hangs tugging down his boxers just enough to free his cock. He hisses at the sensation of air, then moans because your hand squeezed around the shaft. Yuta watches, bewitched, by how you spit into the palm of your hands and let it drip down onto his cock. You stroke until he’s covered in it, saliva making a mess of him. When he’s all wet, you scoot forward just slightly. A hand ends up on his chest as you pull your hips up. 
Guiding the tip to your hole, you sink down on Yuta finally. He can only recognize loosely that there’s no condoms to be seen but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. There’s a slight sensation of tension that quickly gives away to nothing but slick, white-hot pleasure. You feel amazing. It’s not like anything he’s ever felt in his entire life and each time you drop down another inch - he’s biting his cheek trying not to cum immediately. That’d be such a waste, even if you’ve promised to fuck like rabbits - Yuta wants to make this last long. 
You lower yourself steadily until all of him is inside. Your expression is slightly pinched, and your whole body trembles before you finally seem comfortable. You lean forward, your hand next to Yuta’s head as you look at him. 
“Cum when you feel like you need to, ‘kay?” 
Yuta just swallows. 
Before he gets a chance to adjust to the feeling, you pick your hips and slam them back down on his cock without breaking a sweat. Yuta nearly screams, his hands immediately shooting to your hips to try and slow you down. You give him a wry grin, He almost wants to plead for your mercy. 
“Want me to go slower?” 
“Please be nice.” 
You giggle but heed his request. Repeating the motion but slower as promised, you rock yourself steadily onto Yuta’s cock. The pace is controlled and smooth, a rhythmic pass of your hips over and over. Your insides feel like they’ll melt him completely, make him liquid from the inside out. You’re picturesque riding him, tits bouncing and leaned forward enough that Yuta can see the concentration on your face. He watches you find your own pleasure in it too - somewhere half-way between grinding and bouncing that makes you look so good. He feels so incredible like this. 
He moves his hands so they’re grabbing your ass and only moves with you slightly. Not enough to change the pace, but to meet you. The room is filled with the sound of skin hitting skin - a tacky smack as your bounces hard enough to hit Yutas thighs. Something about is so vulgar, but something about is so sensual. He can feel every nerve in his body standing on edge. Your hand moves gently between your bodies to tease your clit as you ride and Yuta can’t help but be impressed by your stamina. He feels so spoiled. Feels so mind-numbingly good he wants to go brain dead while you drain for everything he’s got. 
Your expression is blissed out as you hit your stride, absolutely debauched. He can feel you again, another rush of arousal. He’s getting better at telling when you’re close. Your pussy is so sloppy all for him, because of him. So messy that it’s dripping down his cock onto his balls, all over the sheets underneath you. He can feel you clench in anticipation - the sudden spasming in the build up. 
“Gonna cum again and I want you cum right after me, yeah baby? Can you do that?” 
Yuta groans. 
“Pleasepleaseplease.” Is all he can make out. You laugh, breathy. Your pace is still the same as you rub your clit. The third time you cum is less intense. It’s a shorter wave, a softer sort of orgasm that seems to ease you more than it does anything else. Even still, you clench around his cock hard - getting so much wetter than you were a minute ago. 
It’s in the tremors that Yuta finally feels in touch with himself again. He loses himself completely. Finally giving into the sensation that’s been drowning him, He feels it in his entire lower body. Every atom of him finally catching up to the high of the release. It’s so intense when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. His eyes shoot open then go back closed. The coil in his stomach loosens more slowly at first than all at once, like a car crash. When Yuta finally cums he sees nothing but white stars in his vision. He can’t scream, can’t speak - so he holds onto you tight and finishes to the sound of your gentle coaxing. Your voice is shot hoarse as you coo to him.
“That’s it baby, cum for me. That’s it, there you go.” Echoes around in his head. Cum spurts out of him, thick and hot in your walls and he doesn’t even try to pull out as he goes completely limp underneath you. 
When he opens his eyes back up again, you're both just as ragged as each other. Yuta can’t stop himself from laughing. He hugs you tight to his chest as you lay on top of him - naked bodies and tangled limbs. 
“I love you,” Yuta says blearily. You laugh. 
“I love you too, Yuta.” 
__ 
After you and Yuta manage the energy to shower, you find yourselves back in bed. It’s late when you’re finally ready to sleep, being in the same positions you were before. Only this time with new sheets. 
Yuta lets you into his arms, wrapping them around you as you nuzzle into his chest. 
“So. Was it worth breaking your rules?” 
Yuta can’t help but break out into laughter at your question. He nods his head, a flush on his expression. 
“Yeah. Yeah it was.” 
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ghostfacd · 1 year
Text
THE KING AND HIS QUEEN, — king george iii
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pairing: king george iii x fem!queen!reader
summary: your new life of being queen has been quite a struggle adjusting to. thankfully, you have the perfect king to stand right by your side.
genre: royal!au, fluff, mentions of arranged marriage, reader said to be a princess from france but ethnicity is not specified, plot kind of differs from queen charlotte: a bridgeton story, talk of wanting children
author’s note: the plot is different from that of the netflix series so don’t come at me ! wanted to write for george because his character is very intriguing to me and also bc the actor for young george is so mighty fine 😋😋 enjoy!
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“Are you alright?” The king asked you. His face examined yours, locking his eyes onto your frame.
“Yes my king,” you say, staring down at your plate with a forced smile. In all truths, you were not alright. You had just wedded the week before, and the life of a queen was taking much more of a toll on you than you’d expect.
You remembered like it was just yesterday. Well, technically, it was. It was barely a week ago.
“Will Her Royal Highness, Princess of France, take His Majesty, The King as husband, from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part; according to God's holy law?”
“I, Princess of France, in the presence of God make this vow, from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law.”
“Very well, you may kiss the bride.”
And just like that, you were proclaimed Queen of Great Britain and Ireland.
“You’re spacing out,” George inquires, face filled with concern. You almost wonder why he cares. The two of you were not inlove. The marriage had been an arranged deal between your father and his since the day you were both born. Your fate had been sealed as soon as you came out your mother’s womb.
“Leave us.” He motions to the guards standing. They obey him like robots, leaving at his command. Now, it was just the two of you alone.
“YN,” for the first time since the two of you met, he had said your first name. No ‘my queen’ but just YN.
“Yes, my king?”
“Please, just George.”
You sigh, finally deciding to look him in the eyes. “Very well. George?”
“You know you can always tell me what is wrong, right?” He looks almost saddened. Or was it pity? You didn’t know him very well—the two of you rarely communicating since the marriage had been finalized.
“Of course my king,”
“George.” He corrects.
“Apologies, it was out of habit.”
He stands up, motioning you to come over to him. With raised eyebrows, you do as he wants, your long gown flowing onto the marble floor beautifully.
“Come with me,” he says, taking your hands into his. “To our chambers.”
You flush up at the feeling of George’s hands holding yours. You hadn’t had a boyfriend before marrying him, your father being very keen on keeping yourself innocent and pure for the King of Great Britain.
When you two arrive at the large tall entrance of the chamber, George waves off the two guards standing in front.
“Marital duties?” One of the dukes asked. “Great job Georgie, knew you had it in ‘ya.”
The King rolls his eyes at this, though he makes sure the duke hadn’t caught it. When you’re both inside the chamber, George finally lets out a breath of relief, situating himself onto the large mattress.
It was even larger than yours back at your palace in France. It was meant for the King and Queen, you and George, to sleep in at night and perform your marital duties.
“Sit, please.” George says, patting the empty space next to him. You sit down awkwardly, not sure where to look.
“Listen, I know it’s hard,” George lifts up your chin with his finger. “Adjusting to your life as my queen. The Queen of Great Britain and Ireland. But I assure you, as long as I live, I will make sure nobody will ever lay their hands on you or our future children, and that I will provide you with my love and support as I do with our country.”
Your eyes softened at his mini speech towards you, and your heart fluttered with joy. You were scared the two of you would end up in a loveless marriage like your Father and Mother had been—only together to provide the next heir of France. The heir ended up being your brother, your parent’s firstborn, King Charles of France. Second in throne was your other brother, Prince Louis, the spare. The only reason your parents had you was because your father had wanted a daughter to spoil, not because they were “inlove”. God no.
“Thank you my king. I appreciate this greatly, you have no idea. The stress of being Queen has taken quite the toll on me, and I was afraid of confiding in you about my worries.”
“You have no reason to be afraid,” George takes your hand, placing a soft kiss on it. “You are my wife, and I am your husband. You should never be afraid to confide in me. We promised that only death can do us part, and that we will love each other in sickness and suffering.”
“You are right my king,” you say, placing a peck on his cheek. For the first time, you were making a move, not him.
The two of you stay in each other’s embrace for the next hour, a comfortable and comforting silence fulfilling you both.
For the first time since you’ve step foot into Britain, you felt safe and loved. Loved by the King himself.
“You mentioned protecting me and our future children?” You tease him as you pull away. He bashfully looks down, letting out a small embarrassed laugh.
“Yes, my queen. The future heir, our lineage.”
“I hope it’s a boy,” you blurt out. You wanted your firstborn to be a boy because you’ve always seen your big brothers as a clear example of well raised princes, and you wanted the same for your future children.
“A boy would be ideal,” George says, pulling you close to him, “but I wouldn’t mind a girl. Spoil her rotten and braid her hair.”
You laugh, nodding along with George’s words. “I suppose a girl wouldn’t be so bad. As long as our future baby will be healthy.”
“Yes.”
The next few hours are spent with you and George mapping out the future, forgetting all your responsibilities for just the moment. George wanted Edward for a boy and Marionette for a girl, Nette for short. He expressed to you how he always dreamed of a normal life, farming and doing astronomy. However, he was grateful for growing up in royalty, never surrounded by poverty.
And just like that, the night you and George connected had flew by and you were expecting your second child in a few weeks time.
“Edward!” You say, giggling at the boy running around your legs. Edward was five, and quite the rowdy one. He took after his father’s handsomeness and had the eyes of George, the same ones that had looked at you with concern 6 years prior on that fateful night.
“Mummy!” Edward shrieks in delight. His eyes brighten when he sees his Father, who picks him up in an instant.
“I hope you’re not giving mummy a hard time,” George says, booping the young prince’s nose. “Are you, Prince Edward of Wales?”
“Course not daddy!” Edward scrambles to be let down on the ground, making George grunt as he sets the boy down. “Just wanted to hang out with mummy, that’s all.”
“Yes, my handsome little prince was doing no harm dear,” you reassure your husband. He rubs your baby bump softly, admiring your beauty.
“Just worried about you and Marionette is all,” he says with a soft smile.
“Me and Nette are fine,” you say, “now Edward, would you like me to tell you the day I became Queen?”
“Yes mummy!” Edward grins excitedly.
George can’t help but admire his little family as you told the story to your son Edward, brushing small strands of his brunette hair out of his face. In a few weeks, little Marionette will be arriving, and he couldn’t wait.
He wouldn’t trade what he had now for anything, not even for the whole wide world.
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luxxid · 1 year
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SAYING "I LOVE YOU" RANDOMLY
characters : ayato, albedo, kazuha, aether, al haitham, xiao, ajax, scaramouche, cyno.
warnings: fluff, gn!reader, nicknames, reader is being a bit too curious again :/
request: mai mai! imagine the genshin men's reaction to you saying "i love you" randomly. 🤭🤭🤭
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ayato who gets caught off guard, he didn't expect you to proclaim such syrupy words. he chagrins, his cheeks turning into a lustrous tincture as he processes the unexpected words. his heart was tromping, he covers it up with a small smile, "how sweet of you, darling." he mutters, yet the hues that were painted on his cheeks never faded away. he was rendered speechless, his eyes aglow with surprise and delight at your compliment. he couldn't help but smile airily, and his heart beat faster as he basked in the moment. oh archons, how he cherished every single second with you, he had never felt more alive.
albedo who gently smiles upon hearing those three words. his head lifted up to face his love, his eyes meeting with yours. he wasn't abashed or flushed, instead he found it quite, cute. he felt a warmth swell in his chest as he embraced the words, feeling as though they were the only thing necessary to make him feel complete. his lips parted into a soft smile in response, hoping his feelings were conveyed in that simple gesture. "i love you too, dove." with a voice full of love and tenderness, his heart raced as he whispered those three words back to you. his feelings were so strong and genuine, they could not be contained. he may not have said much, but it was enough to convey the depth of his love for you.
kazuha who softly grins, his pearly whites dazzling. he embraces your hand in his, gently folding and twiddling with each finger. "my love for you is like this sea, never ending." he vocalizes, those 10 words were enough to make you cherubic and rosy. his words resonate in your heart, touching you in a way that cannot be put into words. you feel your love for him multiplying, swelling in your chest and bringing a smile to your face. billows of wind flew past the both of you, mitigation floated in the solace atmosphere, he looked into your eyes, and you know he meant it - his love is infinite, just like the ocean before you.
aether's face is hung low, crimson inches on his forehead. seems like those three words were still processing through his ears. his mellifluous gems meets yours, yet his expression was unchanged; he was still struggling to comprehend what had been said. his eyes became glassy and his mouth slightly agape. he was trying to find the right words, but nothing came out. he knew he couldn't bear to hear the answer and had to look away. "y-y/n, maybe not infront of paimon." he mumbled inaudibly. "what? paimon doesn't understand!" the little girl exclaimed, but it looked like neither of you wanted to answer her. but don't take him wrong! he loved you more than anything, but with a literal child in front of you, how dare you ask him such questions >:(
al haitham looks unimpressed, bored. almost like he didn't hear you. but truth is, his inner self is running abrack. totally out of control. his eyes were fixated on the pages of his book, eyebrows knitted together. but his mind was aware of those three oh-so-sweet words that came out of your pretty mouth. he was trying his hardest to keep his composure, but he couldn't help but feel a spark of inducement at hearing those three nubile words, his heart hastened, and the corners of his mouth twitched as he tried to fight back a smile, but the exultation was too much for him to bear. "was it by coincidence that those three words you just uttered had repeated in this book?" he questioned, a sly smirk was threating to show through the covers of his lips. "what three words?" you came back, turmoiled expressions were drawn onto your face. the viridescent-eyed male, at last let a sly grin to curve up on his face before muttering,"i love you."
xiao almost immediately turned his head towards you, his primitive eyes augmented. his pallid cheeks were masked with a merlot contrast, his lips were sundered. his appearance was almost amusing— to you at least. your soft giggles and chuckles filled the air, his eyebrows creased together as he cleared his throat, "you mortals find this despicable sentence funny?" he blurted out of embarrassment. his hindrance was palpable, as he quickly added, "i suppose you mortals have a pitiable sense of humour." his arms folded together as they were placed in front of his chest. "well, in that case..." he continued, his expression hardening, "let's see how funny you find this." before ramming his gelid lips against yours. checkmate.
ajax finds your statement cute, of course he would want his darling to feel the same way with him. he takes your hand in his stark larger ones, brushing your back before whispering into your ear, "why i feel the same way, darling." his airy breath washed over you like a calm breeze. a pompous smile spread over his face before he parted from you, gently chuckling at your sanguine mess. "i think you're too adorable for your own good. i can't help but want to keep you close," he teases as he pulls you closer to him. his eyes twinkle with amusement as he leans in to whisper softly, "you make me feel so alive."
scaramouche elevates an eyebrow as he blankly stares at you with a stoic expression. obviously, he is not amused. a deep sigh comes from him, letting you know he has no more tolerance for your antics. "is this a joke?" he questions, his voice dripping with sarcasm. a couple of blinks at him were enough to convince him that this wasn't a joke. "love, huh?" he says, his lips quirking up into a smirk. he glances at you, his eyes brightened with amusement. "well, I guess i should have seen this coming." he teases, "you're really going for it, aren't you? i guess i should be used to your wild ideas by now." he uttered before adding "don't worry idiot, i love you too." his sentences almost immediately send metarule hues to your cheeks, earning multiple chuckles from him. he won, better luck next time!
cyno was quite amused with your sudden declaration of love, for him of course. he conceals his eyes before letting out a soft sigh. he wasn't all red and blushy. instead, he was entertained, almost as if he had been expecting it. his lips quirked up into a small smile, his delectation was clear to see. "I guess this means we're getting married now, right?". yea, that earned him one slap.
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shroomi1e · 1 year
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❝ realistic courting ❞
cyno + tighnari (separately)
summary: how they court you/act around you based off of the research i did on their animal counterparts
cw: none, mostly fluff, g/n reader
a/n: ik i could’ve added gorou and yae but dogs and foxes don’t rly have courting behaviors other than humping each other and I WANNA KEEP THIS PG 13🤬 and yes ik cyno rly isn’t a jackal but he’s based off of an egyptian god who’s a jackal, i also just wanted an excuse to write for the sumeru characters lol
cyno: the jackal
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jackals are exclusively monogamous and live in pairs. they hunt, rest, and forage together and spend nearly all their time together. male jackals will urinate on their territory to ensure that other male jackals will not invade their environment or their female counterparts. once jackals are done mating, the male jackal will bring food to the female jackal and take care of them.
the moment cyno and you become official, he will never leave you alone.
the two of you are attached by the hip, and cyno will always be making sure that people know that you’re his, despite not being too fond of pda.
he’ll give you subtle touches here and there, whether it be putting a hand on your lower back to steer you away from the crowd, gently holding your hand before asking you a question, or resting his hand on your knee when the two of you are sitting together.
he’s also a lot clingier than he’d like to let on. he thinks he’s being subtle but it’s so painfully obvious when he grips the edge of your sleeve, his usually hardened eyes just a tad softer.
“i have to go run some errands, cyno…” you shake your arm a little in hopes of cyno’s hand releasing his death grip on your sleeve
his lips pout ever so slightly, his eyes falling to the ground in disappointment
you giggle at the thought of his subordinates seeing their boss like this, clinging onto you and pouting like a kicked puppy. “i’ll help with your errands then. please?”
you sigh in defeat and let your boyfriend accompany you as you do mundane tasks like grocery shopping and whatnot. but to cyno, being able to spend time with you is something to cherish, as he’s usually so busy dealing with affairs at the akademiya.
cyno is also very protective/possessive, glaring down at anyone who dares to even glance in your direction while you obliviously run your errands.
he won’t be super open about his possessiveness, but will instead show it once you two are alone. the moment the two of you are in private, he’ll give you a bone-crushing hug, refusing to let go until he’s done processing his emotions.
but if someone were to ever make you uncomfortable, he wouldn’t hesitate to summon his polearm, one arm extended to push you behind him as he watches your unwanted suitor crumple up in fear. 
and later when you two arrive home, he’ll just sit there and stare at you in silence, his brain muddled with thoughts.  
“is everything okay…?” you ask.
your boyfriend sighs. “it’s just… i didn’t like that he touched you that way.” he then lowers his voice before saying, “only i’m allowed to do that.” 
tighnari: the fennec fox
male fennec foxes mark their territory with urine and become incredibly aggressive toward one another, particularly when competing for females during the mating season. once they have found a mate, they mate for life with couples inhabiting the same part of the den for the whole year round.
it took a while for tighnari to decide whether or not to make things official. not because he didn’t like you, but because choosing a partner as a fennec fox-hybrid held a lot of weight for his kind.
but the more and more time he spent with you, the more difficult it became to be apart from you. sleeping at night became unbearable, and so did his day-to-day tasks. 
and though tighnari can be quite possessive, he tries to suppress those feelings since the two of you aren’t exactly official yet. but his patience wears thin after a while, especially when someone attempts to court you right in front of him
you can tell when he becomes agitated by the way his ears flick and twitch and the way his tail slowly sways side to side
won’t show the jealousy right in front of you but instead take it out in other passive-aggressive ways. like sending them to patrols as far away from you as possible, or making sure their assignments are as long as possible in order to occupy them and keep them away from you
he knows it’s petty, he knows it’s probably not a healthy way to process his feelings, but he just can’t help it. not when a potential partner-for-life is right there in front of him. 
but when tighnari finally gets the courage to confess, he makes sure you know the weight that this decision holds. you still remember how stern and serious he was when he first told you.
“I just want to make sure you know one more time: fennec foxes are partners for life. I don’t doubt our relationship, but in case you want to leave, I wouldn’t be able to let you. are you sure you’re willing to commit?”
when he hears you say yes, his pointed ears relax and his tail wags softly. he hugs you right there and then, burying his face in your neck and tickling your cheeks with the tips of his ears.
a few days later, he shyly approaches you to tell you that he’s moved your bunker right next to his
“back in my hometown, couples usually live together as soon as they make a relationship official. I… I know doing that may seem too forward, so I decided to just move your bunker next to mine instead… is that okay with you?”
he will respect your boundaries until you’re ready to join the traditions of his kind, but when you finally decide to move in with him, he is over the moon
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stormhearty · 3 months
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Parings: Azriel x Reader
Word Count: 3k+
Triggers: character death, torture, blood, war
Summary: The fear that Helion envisioned had come true — the Death-God used your body to resurrect himself from the lake on the continent. But what no one had imagined, was that you would be alongside him — tainted in darkness matching the Death-God. What would the Inner Circle and Azriel do, to be bestowed your forgiveness for their acts against you? What will be the fate of Prythian with you guiding fates?
Note: The last part of “Pushed to the Edge”! I thank you so much for all the support for this requested series! Like I said, never thought people would want a continuation of that one-shot! I had so much fun writing this trilogy, and had so much fun watching everyone’s reactions! Please enjoy! Also… I will be writing an epilogue for this series. AHEM. Just to wrap everything up in an angsty bow. Also, I am always willing to write more for Seer!Reader! Don’t be hesitant to ask!
Part One | Part Two | Epilogue
<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist
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The room was deathly chilled, the skies above clouding, blocking the bright sun that had ruled over Day Court. The powers of a God overtaking a High Lord’s. The two of you stood near the large balcony window, shadow and sin coating the two of you — a God and a Seer — a powerful duo shaking the very foundations of Prythian.
Kosechi’s sinister grin grew wider as he turned his heels, walking towards the dias, you follow his tail. You felt the shimmer of wards opening and the winnowing of guards, the Dawn Court’s Peregryn surrounding the edges of the throne room — all ready to attack if the Death-God lifted the wrong finger against the High Lords.
But little did they know, you were a guard dog, ready to attack anyone that would be a threat to the God — ruthless and unforgiving.
Both of you rounded the last quarter of the table, stepping up to the dias as the Deathless God took a seat on the High Lord’s seat, as you stood near him — a vision of a High Lord and his High Lady of the Darkness.
You felt it though… The stares from the Inner Circle. They did not care for the Death God that casually sitting on the throne. They only looked at you, disbelief in their features but you could see something underneath that — the look of longing and regret.
You wanted to sneer, you wanted to show any hint of disgust at the look on their features — how dare they. After everything they have done to you.
Kosechi looked at the Inner Circle, before glancing at you from the corner of his eye and he snicked under his breath.
“How unfortunate, High Lord of the Night. To have lost your beloved Seer to me…” he pointed out, casually resting head tilting on bony hands as he looked at Rhysand, grin still evident on his features. “Did you know… how the High Lord of Day had hidden her from my followers since she was young … protected her within the wards of Day Court. I’ve been waiting… Waiting for her to fall to me, and you and her mate had made that happen.”
He leaned forward, pressing his hands onto his thighs as the grin widened, sharpened teeth glistening in the light.
“She was beautiful… when my followers found her bleeding body. It took a lot of power to seize her, your shadows protecting her…” Blackened eyes staring at Azriel, “But it was a well-worthy fight. Her light was dimming, leaving an empty echo and so I filled it. Filled it with darkness, it was so exquisite, watching her light dull…”
The Death-God caught your eye and tilted his head.
You had looked at him, charcoal hues staring before you bowed your head, silently thanking him as you felt the weave of shadow up your arms, ghosting over your skin — ensuring you were safe and well protected from any danger, even from Koschei himself.
Azriel watched, those tendrils of shadow wound around you, hearing the purr of devotion to you:
“We serve,
“We protect…
“We find, we hide…
“We cherish the light…”
After your death and after the disappearance of your body, Azriel could never summon the shadows again; they did not flock to him, they did not sing to him, not ever since then — and he realized why.
He realized that despite his infatuation with the middle Archeron sister, his shadows knew exactly what he had wanted, where he should have stayed next to. His shadows were attracted to your light, like flies to fire.
And they still clung to you, even now, and would never let you go.
He tried, fisting his hand as if trying to summon his shadows back to him; however, he could hear them hiss at him:
“You failed, you lost…
“You are not worthy of her light…
“We will not sing for you, only for her…”
Your eyes snapped at him as if feeling the attempt to strip you of the shadows. Your eyes met and you just stared, much like he did to you — all those months ago. That very stare, as if reaching into the depths of his soul, causing him to stumble backward, hands bracing the table behind him — the echo of the broken mating bond aching in his chest; something he will never get used to.
“And so,” Kosechi ended*, “I would like to give my savior a gift… one that I had promised her when I had resurrected her from her unfortunate death,” Koschei cheerfully said, straightening up in his seat, “Blood… of all of Pyrthian, starting with her beloved Night Court.” He raised a hand, darkness flowing out of him.
The Peregryn saw that to be a moment of attack and charged for the Death-God, only to be killed, swiftly and silently by you.
No one had seen it, your movement from the dias to the edges of the room, as if you used the shadows to winnow from one end to the other, though impossible. You stood, surrounded by lifeless bodies of those guards, dull eyes staring at the dead, in your hand a familiar dagger — Truth-Teller, dripping in blood.
Helion, Rhysand, and the rest of the Inner Circle watched, trying to hold back the bile that was rising in their throats at the site of you.
This wasn’t you.
You were someone who would never hurt anyone.
You hated seeing war, hated seeing bloodshed — saw it too often in your visions.
And it had been your duty to ensure, with your sight, to prevent it.
And yet, now, you were the one wreaking havoc on Pyrthian.
In that instant, they knew, they had lost you, completely, to the shadows and darkness that they had drowned you in — in the darkness that the Death God had filled you up with. They had failed you, completely and they weren’t sure… if they would ever get you back.
Feyre looked at you, and took a step forward, only to have her held back by Rhysand — a feeble attempt to protect his mate, “(Y/N) …” she called out your name, as if a way to break you out of this trance, to call you back to them, “What has he done to you? We apologize for not listening to you, and for not seeing you. Please, come back home… We’ll make it up to you, we’ll do anything to bring you back… please…”
You snapped your head towards her, charcoal eyes staring at your former High Lady, a mixed look of longing and hatred towards her way. Tears swam beneath your eyes, forcing them back, “You can’t apologize now…” you seethed, “You can’t tell me that you want me back — when all you did for months was ignore me,” your voice was shaking, that small part of you, that old light you had broken through, “And home? When has that been my home for the past few months? I was alienated, thrown away, cast aside, and yet you want me to go back? For what? For you to do the same again?”
Tears broke, as they ran down your cheeks, “He has done nothing to me… You all have forced your hand to make it this way. I have asked you multiple times to listen to me… I begged all of you to listen, but here we are now…” Pained hues stared at your family, “You have doomed us all to Pyrthian’s destruction.”
That old part of you, the one that had died when you had taken your life, the one that disappeared when Kosechi revived you, cried out — cried out for the loss of your light, loss of your innocence, loss of your own life; cried for the circumstances that fell into place. That old part of you drowned in the darkness that your mate and family had subjected you to. Leaving you seeping in the darkness that the Death-God soaked you in.
And you were losing yourself in that darkness.
You never meant it, you never meant to resurrect the Death-God, you didn’t want to.
You never meant to be the cause of Prythian’s doom.
But fate… seemed to be laughing in your face.
Azriel watched the confrontation between you and his High Lady, but he couldn't glance her way, all his attention on you. He watched as you held Truth-Teller in your hand, watched as his shadows wrapped around your hand that held that dagger as if to steady it in your hand, holding back the quiver that shook your body.
He could see it, that bit of light, that piece of you that he loved so dearly — he hoped to reach out to it… to bring you back home, to bring you back to him.
He took a step forward, passing his High Lady, a hand reaching out towards you.
Your head snapped at him, glaring at him as the hot streams of tears never ended.
It was as if the whole world stilled, just the two of you in that room.
“(Y/N) …” he whispered; your name was a prayer on his lips.
Much like his was yours, for so many centuries.
He stood in front of you, a hand shakily reaching up to try to touch you, to hold you again — to apologize for his mistakes, to beg for you to come back. Azriel let scarred fingers touch your cheeks, wiping the tears that stained your cheeks. Your skin was cold, ice cold. No warmth, nothing that echoed you. But he held on, cupping your cheek and holding you near him.
You bit your lip, trembling, fighting back all the urge to lean into his warmth — to fall back in love with the Shadowsinger.
“I’m sorry… I am sorry. I will beg for the rest of my life for your forgiveness. To kiss the very ground you walk on, follow the shadows to the darkness of your soul. I will be your blade, slicing your enemies for you so that your soul doesn’t darken anymore…”
Azriel’s hand slipped down your face, caressing cold skin as it trailed down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before grasping around your hand that held Truth-Teller. The burn of a bargain tattoo searing onto both of your skin.
He flinched slightly but kept his hazel eyes on you, his hand gripping tightly onto yours. He felt your every shiver against his hold, he felt those tendrils of shadow wrap around his hand — hissing at the completeness of the two mates.
A sob escaped you, your bottom lip shaking as you looked at those hazel eyes you adored. His words soothed the ache in your chest; it was all you had wanted to hear… all those months ago.
But you couldn’t… you couldn’t let yourself forgive him.
You wrenched your hand away from him, as your other hand reached up, mirroring him, pressing the palm of your hand to his cheek, “We had everything, Az…” your voice was hauntingly beautiful, mesmerizing, lyrical, broken, “A family that loved us, a family that we cared for… Yet you were willing to throw it away for a few moments of passion, gallivanting with Elain… You had chosen her over me…” Dark eyes looked at the Made-Fae who stared at both of you with wide brown hues.
You stared back at Azriel, who looked at you as if you were the whole night sky, “…You, Azriel, have broken me, entirely and fully. You will beg for eternity for my forgiveness… We will see to what lengths you will go through… for me…”
You brought his face close to yours, your scent of fresh soft florals — jasmine and sage, overtaking Azriel’s senses. Your lips hovering over his own, “I will show you, my love, on how much you have broken me…”
And with your other hand, you flung Truth-Teller across the room, towards Elain, stabbing her right in her chest. A scream echoed, before your shadows flooded, blanketing the room in darkness, Koschei’s maniacal laughter ringing through the dark.
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Azriel had lost track of how long he had been trapped within his cell, with no remembrance of how he got there. The wards that surrounded his cell were unbreakable, one of strong, ancient magic weaving through its walls. He had tried, multiple times to break it. However, difficult; his siphons were taken away and his wings were battered. His strength only depleted day after day, with every attempt to get out. He yelled and screamed, only to be met with silence every single time — he lost all will after that.
So he sat, in that cold, dark cell, watching the sun through the small crack in the rock as his only light source.
He had no idea what was going on in the outside world — in Pyrthian.
He heard, though, through the cracks in the rocks.
He heard the whispers of Koschei’s magic and powers seeping through Pyrthian. The destruction of the world was quick and simple. The God’s power was no match for the Fae that lived, the Fae that had fought against him. He had realized that he and his family had caused this plight to fall upon Prythian.
And that you were right next to the Death-God, using those arrows made of shadow and darkness to rain havoc on both fae and humans alike. Sparing no one in its terrible wake, but…
He had heard of the whispers that you had asked to spare the High Lords from the destruction.
All but the Inner Circle.
The first time you had come to see him was three days after being locked in that cell. The shadows still clung onto your body, whispering and seething at him.
You had tortured him, physically and mentally. Using Truth-Teller to inflict wounds on skin and whispering to him on destruction that wrecked Prythian — as if you were lovers laying in bed after lovemaking.
After hours of torture, shadows swarming towards him to heal those wounds, you had lifted the silencing ward, allowing him to call out to his family — for them to communicate to each other… to keep their sanity within those walls. A kind gesture, you had reminded him. For them to listen to each other — when they couldn’t do the same to you.
What he didn’t realize was that the silencing spell was a haven — it allowed Azriel not to listen to the screams of torture that befallen his family.
He could hear the yells of his High Lord, the call of Feyre to her family, the frantic screams of Nesta and Cassian calling for each other, and the whimpers of the still-alive Elain.
There were many times when he tried to reach out — call for them, let his voice be an anchor through the pain.
He had been the reason for this destruction.
But it wasn’t enough. Eventually, Azirel stopped reaching out; there was no point, there was no getting out of there.
It was like their own Prison, but it was of their own making.
The second time you had come to see him, you had pressed Truth-Teller into his hands, dark eyes locking into dulling hazel.
“I call upon your promise, Shadowsinger…” you had told him, the sting of the bargain tattoo on the back of his neck, the call of the use of the bargain, causing him to flinch, “The blade that will free my soul from the darkness. You promised you’d be it, right?”
And that’s what he had become.
A sword of blood — against all of Prythian.
All for you.
He wielded Truth-Teller against all Fae, beast, and humans alike.
He followed your command, not a single thought but listening to your voice as you whispered with the shadows on who to kill and whom to spare — much like a puppet on a string. Slowly breaking from the inside as he raised his hand against his home.
He had thought that you’d call on him often. As he promised, he didn’t want your hands to be stained more with blood, to have your soul darken more.
But you rarely had called him, only twice you had asked him to kill for you.
When the creak of his cell door opened, hazel eyes looked up from his position on the ground, watching you enter and closing the door behind you.
You tilted your head at him your hand reached out towards him, and Azriel shifted to his feet before kneeling in front of you — his bloodied hands grasping your own and pressing a kiss towards the top of your hand — a movement of devotion.
You leaned down, hovering over him as he looked up at you, “One last time… Azriel…” you whispered, your breath caressing his skin as you pressed Truth-Teller one last time into his hands, the two of you were winnowing out of his cell.
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The two of you landed on familiar lands — Velaris — and in the distance the darkening cloud of Koschei’s followers and the Death-God himself, heading towards the City of Starlight.
Azriel watched as they slowly descended into the city, his body screaming to defend, to fight… to protect his home. But he waited for your command, on your word.
What he had not expected was for your shadows to cover his eyes, cover his ears, and slither around his hand that held Truth-Teller. His senses were blocked by darkness, and he couldn’t help the panic that zipped through his body.
This wasn’t like before — you never used your shadows like this.
He knew it was torture for him, to watch himself raise his hand and blade against Prythian — it was the reason why you forced him to fight — to see watch Prythian burn in his wake.
He was confused and it showed in his features.
He felt your hand on his upper arm, through the Illryian leathers that seemed to stick to his skin. He felt your body close to his own as you whispered in his ear, “Let the shadows guide you, Shadowsinger… Let them help you kill on my command…”
Azriel felt his throat bob and allowed the shadows to guide his feet, swarming around him and allowing them to whisper to him again.
He tore against leather and skin, smelt blood that splattered onto his face, and heard the muffled screams and cries of whoever he cut down. He didn’t know who he was killing, nor did he want to. He didn’t want to see the lifeless bodies of those who lived in his home, he had passed by on the streets.
He didn’t want to see the lives of the Velarians he just had taken.
The shadows continued to whisper to him — where to turn, when to strike, when to kill — relying on them as he did once before. He and the shadows were working in tandem, following your commands.
As he walked through the streets of Velaris, he felt the world calm — the screams stopped, the smell of blood fading through the whisps of wind — as if time stopped around him.
He allowed the shadows to lead him, stepping over fallen bodies, and debris. Azriel didn’t know where he was being taken and he didn’t want to know where if it meant more bloodshed on his people.
Footsteps grew closer, and a chilling shiver ran down the Spymaster’s spine, ears picking up on the slightest sound from the direction of the footsteps, Truth-Teller armed against whoever might attack him.
“…Strike in the void in the chest…”
He let the shadow lift his arm, as he lunged forward, Truth-Teller gleaming in the light as he broke through skin, striking at the place where the shadows whispered to hit.
A familiar gasp reached his ears, and the body collapsed against him; his arms naturally wrapping around.
The shadows slithered away from his body and Azriel blinked, focusing his eyes on the figure in front of him.
In his arms, at the end of Truth-Teller was you — he had stabbed you.
“(Y/N) … What…?” his breath came out shaky, as he collapsed with you in his arms, his hand releasing its hold on Truth-Teller as it remained embedded in you, in your chest, right where the void seemed to be swirling around the dagger.
He looked around him, noticing that it wasn’t the bodies of his city that lay on the ground but of Kosechi’s army — you had commanded him to kill Kosechi’s followers.
Before he could breathe out something else, a yell echoed through the skies of Velaris. Azriel whipped his head toward the sound, and he watched Kosechi’s body strike the ground, cracks on the earth as he stalked towards Azriel — the same gaping void in his chest mirroring your own.
Charcoal eyes of the Death-God shifted from the Spymaster’s to your own, as your life was slowly leaving your body and he let out a broken laugh, “Seems that your Seer has planned this… since I had resurrected her. Our connection...” another laugh, one of disbelief, "...was our downfall..."
Eyes moved again to Azriel, “You all never deserved her…”
Azriel watched as Kosechi’s body was swallowed by the void, leaving nothing but whisps of air in his waking — the Deathless God, dead.
Not even a second later, he was focusing on your body, watching the shadows wrap around Truth-Teller, as if trying to stop death from taking your body.
“No….No!” he screamed, as he shifted you in his arms, pressing a hand against your cheek and his forehead resting against your head, “You can’t do this, (Y/N)…” as he tried to catch your eyes, hazel eyes in panic mode.
Azriel didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to think. All he could think was that he was losing you all over again — and this time permanently.
He felt tears streaking down his features, watching them fall onto your face, “What did you do, my love? Why did you do this?” he whispered against your skin.
He felt you chuckle, one so broken and shallow and he watched you look up at him, your colored hues staring up at him — one devoid of the darkness that had swallowed you up.
“I had always loved you, Azriel…” you mumbled, “… Loved you with my whole being… for centuries I had been devoted to you…”
A cough escaped your lips, dark as night blood dripping down the edge, “You will, for eternity, regret and mourn… You will be as broken as I was when you betrayed me…”
He leaned against the hand that you had lifted to rest against his cheek, your blackened blood streaking against his skin.
“You will never forget what you had pushed me to do… To save Prythian…”
With one last breath, your hand fell limp against your chest, your eyes dimming as the last of your light finally diminished. The shadows went wild against your body, their cries ringing in Azriel’s ears as he shook, he brought your body close to his.
A roar echoed through the skies of Valeris — one full of anguish and regret.
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tiredmamaissy · 1 year
Text
Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Two
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
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Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info
🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, a lot of sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, heat cycle, scenting, fingering, thigh grinding, cumshot, blood/wounds, recollection of non-con trauma (not heavily described - purely for the plot), let me know if i forgot anything?
Word Count: 8k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Satisfaction - Benny Benassi fully took me through this fic. This one's long. It's got fluff, angst, and smut in it. So buckle up. I hope you guys enjoy 🤍
Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.
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Lessons were productive and frequent. You saw him almost daily, except on the days that Tonowari recruited him for his duties as warrior and hunter. Those were the days you dreaded most. The days when he’d traipse in exhausted and banged up. The days that made you start carrying your medicine pouch on your hip like it was a part of your body.
Days like today.
Ralak walks in moments before the eclipse, jaw clenched with a stagger in his step. You can sense the fracture in his spirit, another unpleasant hunting trip further inland. The gash in his shoulder is evidence of it. You rush over to him, hand firmly gripping your medicine pouch.
“Ra-lak!” your words come out broken, voice bouncing with each thud of your feet.
“It is fine.” he begins, head dropping to hide his grimace.
“It is not. Tonowari asks too much of you.” you huff, running over to him so fast you nearly bump into him. “Oh, Eywa. Look at you.” you tippy toe, eyes franticly scanning his bruised torso, hands doing their mighty best to move his body to have a better look.
“I said, it is –”
“Oh, Ralak.” you cut him off, grazing a finger over the inflamed skin, making his teeth grind even harder.  
“I’m fine. It is just a –”
“Just. Shh. Let me look... let me help you.” you shush him, your other hand brushing over the deep scrapes on his chest.
It’s laughable that he has to hunch his back just for you to have a proper ‘look’. But you didn’t find it funny. Your brows gather tightly at the sight, bottom lip quivering from the mix of emotions surging through you – anger, sadness, concern. Your innocent touches makes blood rush to his face, staining his cheeks a light tinge of pink. His heartbeat quickens - breath deepening.
His eyes remain locked onto you, quietly admiring your beauty. The way your nose scrunches, the little canines chewing on your bottom lip – the heave of your chest. He didn’t mean to let his eyes wander so low, but now that they were there, he couldn’t resist the urge to stare a little longer. To count the beads on your top.
To count the droplets of water trickling between your breasts.
You scoop up a glob of yalnabark, an omaticayan herb you saved for special times like this, and smear it on his chest. The sudden sting brings him back, snapping his gaze up to your screwed face of concern. It warms his heart, just like it did every time he’d come back from a hunting trip a little too banged up. He loved the way you took care of him. The way your small, gentle hands caressed his battered body with whatever smelly concoction you had stowed away in your pouch.
It's all he’s ever craved. Someone to take care of him. To cherish him. To love him. A simple life, in his marui pod he built with his two hands. Big enough for him and his mate, in front of the ocean so that he could fish in the mornings and then bond with his mate in the evenings. Where he could provide for his mate. For his family. To protect.
A mundane life to many, but a perfect life to him.
But rather, he has been recruited by the olo’eyktan himself, to be his right-hand man, to help lead and teach the upcoming hunters and warriors. He yearns for his old life as a fisherman.  Simple. Humble. But shortly after a run in with another clan, Tonowari made the order, and Ralak obeyed. It was at that point in his life that he relinquished his dream of a mundane life.
There’s a part of him, a part that he’s denied attention since he came to adulthood, that yearns for someone like you. Yearns for the possibility that you can provide this simple life for him. A mate. A home. Children. His heart gallops in his chest, slamming against his ribs, but you wouldn’t even know. Not by the way he’s looking at you. But there was one thing he knew for sure, and that was –
His feelings for you are indubitable.
“It is just a scratch.” he says softly, finally finishing his sentence. His hand instinctively rests on your hip as yours search his body for more wounds to smear the herbal concoction on.
“A scratch?” you huff a sigh, beady eyes boring into his before landing on the open gash in his shoulder. Blood trickles down his arm, staining the dark ink pricked under his skin. “You are bleeding. A lot.” you pout, glossy, amber saucers for eyes staring up at him, “…that must really hurt, karyu.”
He crumbles under your touch, gaze softening and body relaxing into you even more. “Do what you need, paysyul [water lily].”
That’s a new one. You smile to yourself and begin cleaning the open wound.
----
Funnily, the only thing you had left to master before your iknimaya was the sign language of the sea people. The ‘finger talk’. Perhaps it was because you had an extra finger, but you found it difficult to create and string together all the signs. Ralak determined that you would need an entire week to learn it, which you couldn’t help but scoff at.
But, he just didn’t want to let go of you so soon.
It was the only thing you practiced outside of the water. It was a refreshing change, to feel the fine, pillowy sand between your toes. To not be wet all the time with hair clung onto your skin. Undoubtedly, it was also easier to focus when this man didn’t have his loincloth stuck to himself, thick bulge on full display.
Most of the days began with you prancing on over, and him guiding you to the pit of sand right outside his marui. Bringing you to your knees with a slight tug of your arms, then kneeling with you. And soon you would be facing one another, in comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes. It seemed to be his favourite part of the day. To watch you be brought to your knees in front him, even if its only for a split second before he joined you.
He took each day slowly, starting with the most basic signs. Going over them twice. Thrice. Just to ‘make sure’ you knew them. By the middle of the week, he established his first rule. No talking. From the hellos to the goodbyes, everything must be signed. And if you spoke in casual conversation, he would not answer. This made it even more difficult to poke your figurative finger at him. To find out more about this man before you had to part ways. You did your best to abide by this rule, until you couldn’t ignore the itch anymore.
So, you scratched it.
--
Ralak balls his fist in the middle of his chest, extending it outwards as he opens it and wiggles his fingers.
“Thank you!” you blurt out, straightening your spine and smiling wide.
Ralak gives you a firm nod, quick to move to the next sign. He sweeps his hands away from his forehead, extending them towards you.
“I see you” your voice fades, almost as if you were saying it seriously. Sensually.
He smiles a little, giving you another nod. A moment of silence fills the space between you two. A moment where he just stares, allowing his eyes to trail your body. The way your knees sink into the sand. Your small hands resting on your thighs. The flap of your loincloth draping between your legs. He wants to sign it back. So badly. But you were still his student. His numeyu [student].
He knew he could do it – maintain his composure, that is. Just until after your iknimaya at least. And then he would ask Jake and Tonowari for your hand. He’s patient. Confident in himself that he could do this. Which is why he had to get you out of the water for a while. To stop your breasts from bouncing with the tide, and your nipples from peeking through your beaded top.
“C’mon, give me something harder. I know those.” you break the silence, repositioning yourself in the dip of your feet. 
Ralak blinks a few times, reentering his train of thought. He nods with a slight smile and raises both his arms, hands at ear level with his pointer fingers straightened in the air. He quickly brings them together, allowing for a little space between his fists. He cocks his brow, waiting for your answer.
“Siv-ako?” the word is broken, full of uncertainty.
“Ah. That’s a good girl.” he speaks for the first time, voice extra husky and gruff. He couldn’t fight it – the urge to praise you. Honestly, he’s having a hard time fighting a lot of his ‘urges’ today. He takes a deep breath, hoping to recenter himself, but it only seems makes things worse – making him light in the head.
Oh? Good girl?
The words echo in your skull, heart beating a thump too quick. You can’t stop rub of your thighs; they’re doing it all on their own. You hide your flushed face, looking down at how your lap squirms about, only making your cheeks hotter. Your body seems to be extra sensitive today, skin prickling at the slightest touch – the mere sound of his voice.
“Ralak.” you practically pant, raising your head to look at him. ‘What is the sign for m-a-t-e?’ you sign, fingerspelling the last word.  
The glow in your cheeks is catching, heat spreading to the tips of his ears. He swallows thickly, taking quick, shallow breaths to prevent himself from becoming anymore light-headed. He signs a similar sign as ‘friends’, but instead of all four fingers, he uses only two [I made this shit up].
Your lips pucker in understanding as you nod slowly, holding your hands in the air, carefully creating the motions with your fingers. The figurative - or not so figurative anymore - finger comes out to play.
‘Do you have a mate?’ you sign.
He cocks a brow, ‘No’.
‘Why? Not hiding one in your marui?’ you sign back.
His brows gather, yet a smile creeps on his face. He’s impressed with you, signing so well for him. He entertains the conversation – your snarky comments – curious to see where you’re going with this. ‘No.’ he scoffs a little, shaking his head.
You stare at him in silence, waiting for the reason why.
He tilts his head, half lidded eyes turning beady. ‘My trust was broken.’
Your brows lower in inquisitiveness, or perhaps confusion. Maybe you misread what he signed. ‘Broken? Who?’ you sign, stressing on the ‘who’.  
His eyelids flutter a little, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he huffs out a sigh. His way of expressing hesitation – uncertainty if he should open-up. To let you in. To tell you. You try reassuring him with your eyes, letting him know it’s alright to tell you. He briefly looks out to the horizon before looking back at you. His hands raise once more.
‘A woman who used me.’
You shake your head, unable to fully understand what he means. You understand the signs, but a woman using him? In what way? To carry her belongings? ‘Use you how?’
Now his true expression of hesitation comes forth. Flattened ears, slumped shoulders and brows so tightly pinched they may unify. If he told you, what would happen? Would you look at him the same? Would you accept his offer after your iknimaya? The event replays so vividly he feels like he’s back in the moment.
The moment where an older woman he trusted manipulated him into touching her, to fondle her, when he didn’t want to. When she made him feel like he had no other choice, like he couldn’t say no, or walk away. Young, naïve Ralak. At the merciless hands of her...
‘Heat’.
And just like that, his expert façade of indifference washes over his face. You can literally see him retreat, the crack in his spirit splitting further apart. Like recalling the memory put him back into the moment to feel the hurt of what he just signed.
Meanwhile, your gears were grinding twice as hard to figure out his single sign. You mirror the motion, fingers bending and overlapping slowly to figure it out. You couldn’t even guess. It looked nothing like any other sign you had seen before. Defeated, you shake your head and shrug your shoulders.
“I-I don’t understand, karyu.”
Eyelids fluttering momentarily, a blank stare bores into your eyes. “Heat.” he says the word whilst gesturing the sign. “She used me for her heat. Many years ago. I was... young.” he begins explaining, trying to maintain eye contact with you as it drifts down to your lap. 'Naïve' he signs the last word.  
You hear the words he’s saying. ‘Used’, ‘Young’, ‘Naïve”.
Yet all you could feel was the fire in your own heart. A blaze so big, so menacing it spills over into your chest. Making it cave in on itself. Like hairline fractures are running through each rib, making the foundation of your chest crumble. Jagged edges impaling your heart, the fire spread throughout your entire being.
Why did it hurt so much to hear that this grown man had sexual experience? Why did your heart ache at the thought of him with someone else? Was he always this way? A man willing to calm any na’vi he encounters in heat?
It just slips out.
“So what? Any na’vi woman in heat that you come across gets your help?” you snap, eyes burning from the tears that threaten to fill them.
Eywa, that stung.
It stung this gentle giant so bad that he grimaces. Like really grimaces. His top lip twitches, seemingly from anger. Anger at himself for telling you. He grinds his teeth so hard he may chip one. His head drops, eyes slamming shut to focus on calming that budding tightness in his own chest.
“Y/n” he growls, one of the few times he’s called you by your name.
You’ve come to learn that it usually means he’s frustrated with you. How could he be frustrated with you? He had no right. You can’t hold back the scoff bubbling up your throat, the shake of your head and the roll of your eyes.
“I guess that means you’ll help me when I’m in heat then, won’t you?”
He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he finally shuffles to his feet. He towers over your kneeling frame now, exuding the same level of intimidation when you first met. He’s trying his hardest to hold his tongue, but the words slip off it so effortlessly.
“Have you even gotten your heat yet?” he asks patronizingly.
There the tears go, rolling down the swell of your cheeks. Of course, you hadn’t. You were a late bloomer in all aspects of life, even this one.
But why were you feeling so sensitive about all of this? So moody and vulnerable? To the point of tears and condescending comments. It’s silly, really. Prying your nose into this grown man’s life only to get upset with him when he lets you in. Like you were anything special to him for you to be feeling this way.
He had never seen you cry before. Not like this. It melts his hardened heart, softening his exterior with it. You’re still young, still learning. He had let his feelings get the best of him, allowing his composure to break down for a split second. It doesn’t help that he was quite literally looking down at you, towering over your tiny stature.
‘I’m sorry’, he signs. “I should not have said that.”
“Don’t be. You’re r-right. I haven’t.” you sputter, breath hitching from your crying. “Almost twenty with no heat. Just a big fuck up.” you stand on your feet, turning your heel to leave.
“You should not be walking by yourself right now –” he begins, walking towards you, but you only walk away faster. “Tanhì!” he calls, voice cracking.
You stop dead in your tracks and turn back to look at him, tears streaming down your face. “Don’t call me that, Ralak.”
Dark grey clouds crowd the sky, darkening the ambiance. He opens his mouth to speak when a clap of thunder pierces the air. The sound of distant rain grows louder. With his attention averted to the sky, you take your chance and run. All the way back to your family marui as fast as your two left feet can go.
Downpour.
So hard and heavy you can barely see where you’re going. It’s so foggy and hazy that you cross your fingers and hope the marui pod you’re walking into is your own. Yanking back the flap, you duck under the doorframe, dripping wet. Jake and Neteyam stop their dinner preparations and look at you. They see the tears streaming down your face.
“Babygirl?” Jake rushes to his feet, voice frantic.
“Is it Ralak?” Neteyam snarls.
“Just, leave me alone.” you spit, hiding away into your little corner, pulling back your privacy curtain. You slump into your bed, burying your face into the pillow you made from feathers, and cried your eyes out, listening to the pitter patter of the rain on the taut material of your marui.
How fucking embarrassing. You always fuck up, y/n.
How could you be so stupid? To think that there was meaning behind the nicknames, the hugs... the moments. He’s just a teacher trying to tutor his pupil. His pupil that could never get shit right. That’s why he was so patient. So sweet. It was all just an order given by the chief. Not only that, but you were wrong. Totally in the wrong to even ask him such a personal question. But to throw it in his face after he opened-up about it?
Eywa, y/n. You stupid girl.
You feel terrible. Guilt filling your stomach to the brim that you feel queasy. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. So uneasy that you feel like you may throw up. You curl into a ball, clutching your knees as you bring them to your chest to cry.
And cry. And cry. And cry.
Until your eyes are so puffy, so raw that you can barely see. Until there’s two of everything. Your head begins to pound. Thump. Thump. Thump. Your eyes and teeth pulse with it. Yet all that’s running through your mind is Ralak. Ralak. Ralak.
How you feel so bad about what you said, about what happened to him. Not giving him the chance to speak before jumping down his throat. After he’s been nothing but patient with you. Handling you with care and gentle hands. Encouraging you with his words, albeit few. Letting you in when he had built such a tall, thick wall.
Letting you touch him – touch his most intimate tattoo.  
The way his core flexed to jerk his hips away from you. The sound of his grunts when he’s a little frustrated. Flustered. Especially when you tend to his wounds. When you run your fingers along his body, searching for more scrapes and ‘scratches’. The way he looks at you when he’s counting your freckles.
When he calls you tanhì.
Whenever the word slipped off his tongue, it always made your face hot. Just like now. Blushing at the mere thought. Cheeks heating up to a critical degree. Body heating up with it. It feels like you’re on fire – a scorching heat radiating from your core to your extremities. It feels like a fever dream.
Or perhaps it’s just a fever. Sick from the rain, as they would say. Making you shiver and shake, yet also kick off the sheet that’s covering your body. Maybe it was the swoosh of the heavy rain, but you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. All you wanted to do was to make things right. To apologize for your shitty behaviour.  
You had to do it. Now.
A surge of good ol’ determination rushes through you, bringing you to your feet. You wipe the snot off your face and rush out the tent, Jake and Neteyam calling after you. Saying something about the eclipse beginning. A storm forming. You can’t really hear them. It’s all an echo, reverberating in your skull. You wave them off and make quick strides towards his marui.
You feel dizzy. Like the world is spinning around you but it didn’t matter. You’re too focused on making things right. Getting rid of this queasiness. Fixing the one good thing you had for yourself in this wetland. Sand spills between your toes, you can feel it. You’re here.
“Ralak!” you try to shout, only for it to come out as a hoarse cry. “Ralak!”
You look around through blurred vision, the ocean is empty. Of course, it is. The ripple of raindrops piercing the water, the furious push and pull of the tide, the waves that crash violently into the shore – it’s storming. Head snapping to the right, you find that his marui is dark, seemingly with nobody home.
Where is he?
Eyes falling on your own feet, you catch sight of deep footprints in the wet sand, leading inland under the tall mangroves. Tracking the impressions, you find yourself standing at the opening of a cave, tucked away deep into the webs of mangrove roots. A hidden spot, with a lake, lit up by the bioluminescent fauna stuck to the stalagmites hanging from the ceiling. When you see him, it’s like your vision clears. Crystal clear. He’s –
Bathing.
Standing thigh deep in the water, wet hair stuck to his chest. His bioluminescent freckles twinkle brightly, reflecting against the water’s surface. His ears are tucked in, relaxing against his skull, eyes lidded and heavy. Tattoos bold and prominent, they accentuate his muscular physique. Gravity of pandora in full motion, water droplets dribble down his body. Down his jaw. His chest. His stomach. His –
Oh, fuck.  
You tell your eyes to move. To look away. Close. Anything. But they don’t. They stare. Taking in every detail of his thick, half-hard cock, partially submerged in the water. You come to the realization of how he never actually showed you his full tattoo, as the ends of it encircled the base of his length. Eywa, he’s huge. You swallow thickly at the sight, cheeks growing even hotter.
“Ralak.” a whisper parts your lips, eyelids fluttering wildly before you can pull your eyes away. “Sorry. I-I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No need.” he mutters, continuing his bath.
He knew you were standing there all this time. He could sense you. Smell you. And Eywa, it took every bone and fiber in his body to maintain the sliver of composure he has left. He isn’t shy about his body and honestly, didn’t mind if you saw.
He turns to you, flicking his gaze up to meet yours, pupils blown. “You should go home, y/n.” he says as calmly as he can.
“Ralak. I’m sorry for what I said to you. I had no right.” you say, turning your head to look away from his body. It only made things worse for you, making the wooziness unbearable. Making you struggle with your words. “I-I don’t know why I got so upset. I’m not sure –”
“You are sensitive right now. I am not... upset.” he states, accent thick as tree sap.
“What?” you blurt out, looking back at him as you walk into the cave.
Sensitive? What does he mean?
“Y/n. You should go home.”
Hearing your name makes your heart sink. You wish you never told him to stop calling you tanhì. “What do you mean?”
“Look. I am sorry about what I said to you, y/n. But you need to go home.” he says through gritted teeth, as if he were having a hard time withholding his 'anger'.
“No. No. Ralak. I-I’m sorry, too. I just – I want to make this right. I-I feel like I can’t even think clearly right now. But I know that I made a mistake. I’m sorry.” you blubber out, entering the water to walk closer to him.
“Y/n” he growls, stepping back a little. “Please. You said it yourself. You cannot think clearly.”
“Ralak.” you croak, tears welling up in your eyes once more.
Blown pupils peer down at you, eyelids so heavy they look like they may close. “Go.”
Your bottom lip trembles, heart aching from him shooing you away. It feels like your throat is closing, vision blurring so badly that you could barely see him. You try to say the words, only for them to catch in your throat.
‘I was jealous.’ you sign, tears flowing down your cheeks. ‘I was wrong. I am no one to you to be upset with you for being with another.’ you string the words together to the best of your abilities, unsure if they even make sense.
“Oh, y/n. It is not as you think. I have not... given myself to anyone.” he struggles to explain, the heat of your body transferring to his. “Please, do not cry.” his voice falters, brows lowering, blown pupils flickering as they search your puffy face.
Relief. Radiating through your body. Your body yearned for him now, more than ever. For him to be your first. For you to be his first. To mate.
“Then w-what?” the words dislodge from your throat.
“She took advantage of me. Coerced me. But never farther than this” he raises his hand, moving his fingers.  
“Karyu. I’m so sorry. I-I would never –” you cry, gripping two of his fingers.
“Shh. It is alright. I’m sorry, too” he hushes you, bringing your hand to his chest.
“I feel so... so overwhelmed right now. I don’t u-understand it.” your teeth begin to chatter as you finally close the gap between your bodies, slumping into him for one of his hugs. “I think have feelings for my karyu.”
He embraces you, holding you close to his body. “And I have fallen for my numeyu” he chokes out, having a hard time catching his own breath.
Your head snaps up, glossy, panicked eyes glaring up into his. You have a hard time processing what he’s saying, all you can see is the strain on his face as he tries his hardest to remain calm.
“Mawey. Mawey [calm]. Everything is heightened for you now. You’re alright.” he hums shakily, rubbing your back.
“I feel... s-so weird, so hot.” you hiccup, taking those deep breaths that you normally take when you hug him, overfilling your lungs with his scent.
It smells so good today. So good you wish you could bathe in it. Coat your body in his scent. You rub your face into his chest, trying to smear it on your skin. It calms you down, steadying your galloping heart and slowing your shaky breaths. 
“Tanhì.” he heaves a strained sigh, heavy lidded eyes squeezing tightly.
“Lak.” you breathe, body pressing into his.  
“Do you want me to?” he whispers, arm snaking around your waist to bring you closer.
“Hm?” you purr into his chest, rubbing your thighs together.
“Do you want me to help you when you get your heat?” he gruffly pants the words.
This morning replays in your head. All the hurtful words you said to him and the question that came shortly after.
‘I guess that means if I’m in heat then you’ll ‘help’ me then, won’t you?’
“Yes, please.” you exhale, head nodding in his chest.
With that, he holds your trembling body closer, allowing himself to take a full breath, filling his lungs with your scent. Your pheromones. This is the first time he’s letting himself savour them. He’s been picking up your scent all day, trying his hardest not to give into his primal urges to scent you himself – to mark you as his. Eywa, it’s divine. It’s so sweet, and fruity. Nothing like the fruits of the sea.  
His scent grows stronger, his body simply responding to yours. His pheromones make you feel feverish, skin prickling from the fingertips that graze your waist. Your heart thumps wildly between your ribs just as your double vision sets in. A sharp heat shoots down your spine, and pools in your core. Soon you’re panting and sweating in his arms, shaking uncontrollably as you squeeze your trembling legs tighter.
It frightens you.
“Ralak. I-I don’t know w-what’s – happening to me. What’s – what’s happening to me?” you blubber, voice full of panic.
“It is your heat, tanhì.”
“My h-heat?” you squirm in his chest, rubbing your body all over his – unknowingly scenting him.
“Mm-mhm.” he hums, fingers working at the knot of your loincloth. “Is this okay?”
“Yes. Yes.” you moan softly, legs parting to help him take the soddened cloth off you.
Once the knot comes undone, the cloth floats freely in the water, drifting away from you. In one swift movement, he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. Another breathy moan parts your lips, your clit finally getting the attention it’s been swelling for. You instinctively cling on to him, snaking your arms around his neck.
He supports your body with one hand under your upper thigh, whilst his free hand cups the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your hair. For a moment, you both indulge yourselves in each other’s scent, rubbing your noses into one another’s neck. It’s almost suffocating. So suffocating that you both pull up simultaneously to gasp for air. Pupils completely blown, you stare into each other’s eyes, panting shakily – lips inching closer and closer together.
He lingers there, flushed lips parted, waiting patiently for your move. For your touch. For your command. You couldn’t take it anymore. The tension is strung too tight that you can feel it in your core, about to snap. Your foreheads touch, noses rubbing together, lips brushing against one another.
“Kiss me.” you mewl needily.
Before you know it, his lips crash into yours roughly, almost bruising them. He’s so hungry for you. For your touch. He’s wanted this for so, so long. Peak of your heat quickly approaching, he wills himself to regain his control. To take it easy with you on your first time.
“My paysyul.” he pants into your mouth, tongue swiping against your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth.
You hum with fervour, allowing your tongue to explore his mouth – to intertwine with his. His fingers untangle from your hair, and cup your cheek, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. Soon you’re sharing the same breath, making everything even more hazy.
A large hand slides down your neck and grips it gently, earning him a sudden, breathy moan. Legs tightening around his waist, your hips stutter on their own, desperately trying to find something hump against.
Reading your needy body language, his hand quickly moves down your chest, pulling up one side of your beaded top to reveal your round breast and peaked nipple. He rolls it between his fingers as gently as possible, sending little shocks throughout your breast. The sensation sends your hips into a frenzy, gliding your clit back and forth over each ab muscle.
“Ugh – oh!” you cry out, jaw locking as your mouth hangs agape. Your wetness is overflowing, coating his stomach in a thick layer of slick. The jerk of your hips becomes easier, gliding up and down his stomach even faster. Your teeth click together, eyes watering as you desperately chase the budding feeling in your core.
The little, filthy sounds coming from your mouth only rile him up more, ebbing away more of his restraint. His cock springs up, swollen head smacking against your thigh, quick movements providing just enough friction on his tip, making his hips stammer too. Soon your bodies fall under the trance of your heat, desperately grinding into one another.  
The urge to touch, no – to be inside you is overwhelming. He wants to know how your gummy walls feel around his cock. But he knows that your too small to take him, that he would have to stretch you out first. Prepare your little body so it wouldn’t hurt.
His hand works its way from your breast, down to your stomach where he lingers for some time. His fingers play in the dip of your navel as they slide between your sticky pelvis and his stomach, parting your folds carefully. Hips snapping back, you open yourself up to his touches, resting your chin in the dip of his collarbone.   
“This okay?” he asks quickly, fingertips finding the bundle of nerves at the peak of your slit.
“Mm-mhm! Please -” you whine lengthily, frustration so pent up it leaves you breathless.
“Breathe, tanhì.” he hums, fingers rubbing tight circles into your clit.
You gasp for air, a cool sensation filling your lungs. It feels so good – so much better than the way you do it before you go to sleep. You try hard to focus on the budding feeling in your core, to chase it so you can finally know what an orgasm feels like. But this was just another thing that you struggled with.
“Used fingers before?” he huffs in your ear, sliding two fingers down to your entrance.  
“T-tried it... once.” you admit timidly.
“How many?” he rasps, pulling a finger back into his palm, leaving only one to prod at your slit.
His strong scent disorients you, leaving you in such a befuddled state that you ignore his question and snuggle into the crook of his neck.
“Tell me, tanhì. Quickly.” he pants.
“One.” you mumble, grazing your canines on his pulsing throat as you suckle on his skin, leaving behind a bruise-like mark. Surely one of his is equivalent to almost two of yours. He knew that this was going to hurt if he didn’t take his time with you and let you fully adjust to something inside you.
“Tell me if you feel pain.” he grunts, sliding his finger inside you to the first knuckle. You let out a little whimper, walls clamping tightly around his finger. “Feel okay?”
You nod franticly, burying your grimaced face into his chest. “Mhmm.” You wiggle your hips, desperately trying to take more of him inside you. He follows your movements, ensuring not to slide it in any further just yet. “M-more please”
“Patience, tanhì”
You’ll admit, it burned a little. It was the biggest stretch you’ve had so far, but the slickness of your heat made it so that his finger slid in easily. “Please. It. It feels... feels weird, Ralak.”
“I know, I know.” he coos, feeling your walls relax around his knuckle. “I'm going to make it go away, take a breath for me.”
You inhale deeply, just as you would before a breathing lesson, holding it deep in your stomach rather than your chest. He slides his finger inside you to his second knuckle, keeping it there while you adjust some more. Your grip around his neck tightens, fingernails digging into his turquoise skin just as you release your breath - blowing hot air onto his chest. The way his finger stretches you out brings tears to your eyes. Tears of ecstasy - of satiation. Satiating an itch that you weren’t even aware of.
“More!” Desperation plagues your trembling voice.
He knows better than to listen to the words that come out your mouth and listen to what your body is saying to him instead. It’s not his first time dealing with a na’vi in heat, albeit by force. It feels so similar, the influence your heat has on him. But yours is so much more intense. Feelings of uncertainty creep in, muddling with all the other emotions he’s trying to deal with. He didn’t want to be used again.
She’s not her. He reminds himself, persevering through the hesitancy. “Ready?”
“Yes. Yes Ralak.” You hold on to him tighter - closer.
Your pheromones already had him in a trance, gritting his teeth just so he could maintain his composure. He’d never been influenced by pheromones like this - so strong and potent. Perhaps it’s because it’s your first heat, or maybe it’s because you’re the na’vi he has the urge to protect most – to mate with.
He finds himself taking deep, long breaths. The kind he takes before going spear fishing in the depths of the ocean. Your scent fills his head, making him woozy. Blood rushes to his face, turning it hot and flushed – stained with a tinge of pink. Oh, to make a gentle giant like Ralak blush.
He exhales as he gently slides the rest of his digit inside of your slippery pussy. You both groan in unison, just as your tightness clamps down around his finger - your nails scraping down his back. You’re so, so wet that your glossy, slick coats his knuckles, dribbling down his hand to his wrist.
“Shit.” he lets out a curse, something he rarely does. “How are you this wet?”
He really shouldn’t compare, but he’s never seen a na’vi in heat so soaked. You couldn’t help it really, your feelings for him are so strong that they feel overwhelming at times. Times like right now, where your feelings overflow and have nowhere else to go but between your legs, making a mess all over your thighs. “S-sorry” you pant, your soft, petite body shuddering in his grasp.
“Never apologize for that.”
The first curl of his finger earns a loud, sudden moan from your throat, just as his grip on the fleshiness of your thigh tightens. His cock is so painfully hard, turning veiny and almost blue. All he wants to do is replace his finger with his cock but, he can’t. Not when you’re this tight. The way your gummy walls grip so tightly around his finger makes it hard to even move it.
“Ra-lak” the word momentarily catches in your throat just as he curls his finger once more.
“Mm?” He hums, eyes squeezed shut, brows gathering.
“Ngh – feels... s-so good. Please.” you beg quietly, squeezing his waist with your legs as your body tries to shove his finger deeper inside you.
“There it is.” he grunts, listening to your body’s commands.
He roughly furls and unfurls his finger inside you, rubbing the pad of his fingertip against the warm, spongey part of your cunt. Each hook of his finger works out a squelching noise, and a breathy mewl from your mouth. Soon you’re panting into his chest, trying to keep your soft moans to a minimum as he picks up the pace.
There was really no point, as the more he fucks you out with a single finger, the more your moans lose their softness. His ears perk up higher and higher as the volume of your sweet, filthy moans grow louder and louder, making his rock-hard cock twitch against your thigh.
Your sweet spot swells with pleasure, moans becoming deeper and strained. He knows you’re close. So close that you were going to cum on his finger any minute, just by the way your pussy walls clench tightly around his finger. He feels the tension in your body, the way it seizes up, trying to fight the unbearable heat pooling in your pelvis. His dazed eyes open, scent of your pheromones wafting up his nose as he lowers his head, mouth next to the shell of your ear.
“Don’t fight it.” he whispers.
Your moans quiet down into low, laboured pants as you try to relax your tensed muscles. You’re having a hard time, and he can sense it.
“Let it happen, my paysyul. I'm right here.” he hums, using his thumb to rub loose, slow circles into your puffy clit.
“Mmmn! I-I can’t. Ra – ah haah, ngh! ‘ts t-too much – too much!” your shaky breaths hiccup as you shake your head side to side in his chest. 
“Cum for your karyu.” he encourages you, tightening the circles and picking up the speed of his thumb.
Of course, your karyu would be the one to teach you how to cum.
The sound of his husky voice in your ear sends you over the edge – heated coil unravelling, stomach muscles relaxing. It’s as if your body were responding to his command all on its own. This foreign feeling was just too good – too euphoric. You pull up suddenly from his chest, gasping for air as your entire body convulses in his grip.
“Oh, f-fuck!” you shout, tears streaming down your face.
“There you go. Good girl.” he grunts low in his chest.
He relishes in the quick flutter of your pussy walls around his finger. The way your cum dribbles down his arm. The way you’re staring into his eyes with your mouth open, releasing silent screams into the air. He can feel the beads of precum oozing from his tip, dripping down his pulsing length and onto his swollen balls.
He keeps his finger buried deep inside you, waiting patiently for you to come down from your high. Your sputtering broken words into his ear, body going limp in his grip. He could tell it was time to get you comfortable for the long night ahead. Ralak moves quickly through the storm, bringing you up to his marui.
A whine splits your lips when he tenderly pulls his finger out of you, laying you down on his bed. It’s so warm and cozy, soft sheeting fluffed up around your shivering body. You give in to the pull of your eyelids, resting them for a couple seconds. Ralak settles himself behind you, pressing his body against yours and wrapping his arms around your waist.
It feels so good, so right. The way his body completely envelopes yours, acting as your own personal shield. You back yourself up onto him, rubbing the swell of your ass on his cock – glossy from his precum. Your body moves on its own, a hand sliding down his crotch to wrap your fingers around his girth.
Fingertips barely touching one another, you stroke half the length of his cock, feeling it warm up in your hand. His breath is heavy and hot, right in the shell of your ear. He nuzzles his face into your neck, peppering wet kisses down to your shoulder. Eywa, how you wanted him to be inside you, filling you up and making you feel full.
There’s a dull ache, deep in your womb. So deep that only something this big could make it go away. Every bone and fiber in your body is screaming for you to shove his cock inside. It’s so loud you can’t ignore them anymore, the need to be fucked.
“Lak.” you mumble, half awake.
“Mm?” he hums with fervour, cock finally getting the attention it’s been begging for.
“Want you inside.” you breathe, positioning his swollen tip to your entrance.
His hips snap back, pulling himself away from you. “Not today.”
“Please.” you whine, backing up on him once more. “My body n-needs you.”
“It will hurt, tanhì.” he mumbles between kisses, holding your hips to push them away. “Another day.”
You didn’t want to take no for an answer. Your body pined for him to stretch you out and fill you up. Your back arches as you slump your head back into his shoulder, opening your neck to his kisses. “Please, please.” you beg,
“Not when you are in heat. Not when we are not mated.” he groans, reluctantly pulling his aching cock away from your soft pussy lips.
“F-fuck. I can’t take this. I can’t. It’s – it’s too much. Please, Ralak.” you whine, squirming around from the sensation in your womb, lying on your back.
“Mawey. We will get through this.” he coos, sliding his hand down your stomach to your cunt.
Instinctively, your legs spread, welcoming the fingers that slide up and down between your folds. He slides a finger in easily, hooking it right into the gummy part of your heat, slowly massaging circles into it. He grinds his cock into your thigh, coating it with his own slick as he works yet another orgasm out of you.
“Just like last time” he coaches you through it, your breathy moans increasing in volume. “Relax, and let it happen” his words bounce with the thrust of his hips, chasing his own climax against your slickened thigh. Your walls contract, just as they did when you were about to cum. And then you lose it, walls suddenly relaxing around his digit.
“Again. Listen to your body.” he grunts, planting an encouraging kiss behind your ear.
Focusing on the budding feeling, your hands grip his veiny forearm, using it as leverage to hump his hand. You let go, allowing your body to take over. Head sinking back into the softness of the bed, you grind erratically into his hand.
“I’m close – s-so close!” you cry out, eyes popping open as your body tenses.
“Good girl, ride it out.” his voice is thick with desire, shaky from the buck of his hips. He’s on the edge, forcing himself to wait for you to cum before he does. Your hips lift in the air, his hand following with them. “Go on, let go.”
“Ra – lak! Cumming! Cumming!” you release a sudden, strained whine.
Just as your pussy walls flutter around his finger, he quickly slides a second one in, masking the pain of the stretch with the pleasure of your orgasm. With two fingers deep inside your cunt, your body convulses from satiation and pleasure, feeling stuffed to the brim.  
“That’s it.” He growls low in his chest, eyes squeezing shut as he gives your thigh a few hard thrusts. Guttural noises picking up in volume and bass, he listens to his own body, spurting his warm, thick cum all over your thigh and stomach. He opens his eyes, to see a jaded look on your face as you calm down from your heat.
“I love you, my tanhì” he mumbles in your ear, fingers still inside you.
“I love you, my karyu.” you barely get out, eyelids falling shut.
He leans over you, using his free hand to grab the cloth next to his bed to clean you up with. He knew better than to take his fingers out of you, and to think that this was all over. It was only the beginning of a long night ahead.
And oh Eywa, it was.
Every few hours, you’d wake up sweating and squirming from your heat, backing yourself up onto Ralak’s warm body, begging for his touches. He’d be quick to oblige, curling the fingers that remain inside you for the entire night, making you cum as many times as you wanted. The only thing he wouldn’t give into were your pleas to be fucked. That was one thing he maintained his composure about.
----
“Y/n. For the love of Christ, you better tell me that the storm held ya up last night.” Jakes voice rings in your ear, waking you up.
Oh shit.
Tag list: @azaleaniath @jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @avatar-lover @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @qweq-6802 @girlpostingsposts @erinloversworld @agelsully @zestys-stuff @raaaaainn  @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump @erenjaegerwifee @eywaheardyou @saturnheartz @lovekeeho @afro-hispwriter @lovemyavatar @rainbowsocks @eddiesluvt @etherialblackrose @sleepilysworld @fezandashgirlfriend @kahlowy @babyymeme @lovekeeho
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n0niff · 1 month
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(some) bllk characters falling in love*ੈ✩‧₊˚
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he fell first
time and noise seemed to stop, the universe paused when your eyes met. he knew he had fallen deeply. it might sound cliché, but that's precisely his perspective. your first interaction only reinforced this feeling…now that you rest in his arms, with a silly comedy movie playing in the background, your laughter is the only thing that holds his attention. he can't belive he can call himself yours
bachira, kurona, kunigami, nanase, tokimitsu, ness
he fell harder
he wasn't sure when everything changed, when his playful "you're annoying's" turned into earnest "i miss you's". he didn't know when he started noticing reminders of you in his surroundings, or when he began instinctively ordering a second drink at the cafe—your exact order, memorized to a t. he couldn't pinpoint when you gradually found a place in his heart, but he wasn't complaining.
rin, sae, oliver, kaiser, baro, shidou, otoya, nagi, chigiri, niko
he fell first & harder
from the moment he saw you, he knew you were destined to be part of his life. you fit in so naturally; his friends liked you and it seemed as if everyone around him adored you. and so did he. one might think his love couldn't grow any deeper, but every day, he proves otherwise. he is the man that you cherish, but he cherishes you even more.
isagi, yukimiya, hiori, loki, reo
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⋆。°✩ srry if I forgot one of your favs (• ᴖ •。)
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oepionie · 1 year
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HIS COMPLETE DEVOTION: THE AFTERMATH. malleus draconia
Synopsis: A week after the spell incident, Lilia tells Malleus about all the things he's done to you when he lost his memory. Horrified at his actions, Malleus locks himself away in his room to brood.
Character/s: Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Crack-Fluff, Malleus is really dramatic, Intense love, Lilia drags Malleus' ass, Lilia turns into his true form, Malleus has gargoyle bedsheets lol, Flustered Malleus, Malleus kneels for u
A/N: Might have went a little bit overboard here loll, I just read a bunch of sagau zhongli fics and it inspired me eheg
WordCount: 800+ | 💌Masterlist | PART I HERE
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Malleus Draconia was in love with you. There was no doubt regarding that.
Every bit of your affection, no matter how small or big makes Malleus melt. In the aftermath of your love, he has trouble keeping his heart still as it bounces and dances around his chest. His face blossoms a bright red and a wide silly smile remains on his face for hours, leaving his cheeks burning and strained.
The dragon fae always clung onto you, standing by your side like a devoted knight - so vigilant and attentive that it would put his own retainers to shame.
Though, why is it now that you find yourself eating lunch all alone, with your dragon nowhere to be found?
Well…after the incident last week, Malleus dared not to show his face to you.
Lilia had told him about everything that had transpired that day and oh, how he hated to hear about the sorrow of his cherished treasure. It trod on, tore at, and beat at his poor heart. Even more so once he found out he was the cause of your pain. Such an unpardonable act that Malleus, overcome with grief, shut himself in his room.
No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't visit him. Every time you entered the area around his room, a push of wind magic would always carry you away; it was gentle enough to never hurt you but firm enough to never let you get past.
After days of trying, you decided to simply give Malleus his space, hoping that he wasn't taking it too seriously…
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Guilt.
Such a twisted, dreadful feeling which gnawed at his bones and mauled his conscience.
Malleus sits in his bedroom, glaring down at his feet. After locking himself up, the young prince refused to speak to anyone and only came out when it was time for class.
When he was in school, he avoided you like the plague; immediately teleporting away as soon as he caught sight of your figure.
It was safe to say that he wasn't taking the situation so lightly and after a week of his dramatics and Sebek's mourning, Lilia eventually had to step in.
"No!" Malleus growls, tugging his gargoyle themed blanket away from Lilia's grasp and burying his head underneath it.
Lilia sighs and yanks it away from him once more, glaring at Malleus with a stern look. "Do you plan on going about the entire month sulking like this?"
"Yes. Yes I do." Malleus huffs, a puff of fire floating into the air before dissolving into ash and smoke. He turns his back to his guardian and shuts his eyes tight. "Leave."
Silence falls over the room as the two stay still. Lilia squints his eyes, slowly rolling the sleeves to his shirt up. His hair grows, draping over his shoulders and cascading down his back. Malleus turns to glance at him, eyes ripping wide open as he recognises Lilia in his true form.
"I may be old but that doesn't mean I've grown brittle." Lilia rushes forward, tackling Malleus in a vice grip. The dragon writhes in his arms but Lilia's hold doesn't falter one bit. He carries the wriggling fae out the dorm, along a path Malleus was all too familiar with.
"Now, let's go to that darling treasure of yours."
Despite Malleus' protests, the bat fae dragged the poor withered dragon all the way to your dorm.
Once they arrived, Lilia made sure to switch back to the form that you were familiar with.
Unsure of what to do with himself, Malleus stood uncomfortably behind him as the bat fae rapidly knocked on the old rickety wooden door.
There you appeared, disheveled and drowsy with Grim hanging off your shoulder. For the first time in weeks, Malleus' eyes fell upon your figure, and his heart hammered heavily in his chest. Lilia pushed him towards you. "Go on Malleus, I believe you wished to tell them something."
You looked up at him in anticipation, a bright smile on your face. With a trembling sigh, Malleus strode forward.
"I-I'm sorry." He dropped to his knees and bowed deeply, his head striking the ground hard. His shoulders were locked and tensed in a straight line, posture stiff and rigid.
"Malleus!" You gasped, rushing forward. Despite your hasty attempts to urge him to stand, he remained anchored to the ground like stone.
The dragon fae grabbed onto your ankles, his forehead pressed against your feet. "My treasure, I a-am so sorry."
"Oh Malleus, love, you're being a bit too dramatic. It's okay." You shushed him, stooping down to take him into your arms.
Almost immediately, he melts into your embrace, curling up against your chest. His head lay against your shoulder, an arm draped over his eyes. Apologies flowing out of his mouth in an uncommon display of vulnerability.
Sighing, you cast a glance at Lilia who only shrugged as if to say 'Well, he's your problem now.'
"I'll make it up to you." He whispers, throat burning after his numerous confession of guilt. You smiled, burying your face into his hair. "I know, Tsunotarou, I know."
" Though I must say…" You trailed off, and Malleus peered up at you, his eyes wide with curiosity. "That locket you had of me was really lovely."
Malleus coughed, his cheeks turning slightly red. "I hadn't intended for you to ever see it."
"Khee hee~ Ah yes, the locket." Lilia sniggered, grinning impishly. "Prefect, did you know he had a box of true gold specifically custom made for it?"
"Lilia."
"He was so protective of it, always growling if someone dared to touch what was his."
"Lilia, please."
"There was even an enchanted silk pillow! He would always place the box atop it. I'm quite sure both the box and the pillow were embedded with a protection spell.
"I beg of you, stop."
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Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!
Taglist: @keedas , @spadecentral , @crypticbibliophile ⤷ (want to be added?)
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