#I'm weak for ships and drawing them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

americaswritings · 2 years ago

Text

Voices of Roses and Ruin

Warnings: Psychological torture, manipulation, Coriolanus being himself

Summary: Coriolanus is forced to watch the gamemaker use his voice against you in the arena.

Words: around 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I watched TBOSAS yesterday and yeah don't judge me but young Snow is hot and I shipped him and Lucy Gray a lot (until it all went downhill cough cough). Obviously he's horrible and does many unspeakable things later (!!!). But I think the idea of a love story between a mentor and their tribute has so much potential and when I saw the birds in the film I thought of this idea.

This is written from Coriolanus perspective (I haven't read the book yet. I just bought it and I'm so excited to read it!). I obviously wanted this to be about real feelings, but I tried to stay true to his character so there are some 'questionable' and alarming thoughts and motifs in here.

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part II | Masterlist

Coriolanus had thought watching you in the arena, alone and scared, hiding from a pack of murders that were hunting for your life was among the worst things he had ever gone through, but nothing could have prepared him for the Gamemaker’s new horrendous plan.

He was tired, just as you were, but refused to go home like most students had done. Instead his head was resting in his hand as he kept watching your sleeping form, as if he could protect you if he just kept his eyes on the screen and on the lookout for a potential threat.

He wouldn’t be able to do anything for you, if the pack of murders found you. He couldn’t warn you or give you advice.

All he could do was sit here and watch and he found himself thinking if this was not the worst torture of them all; being trapped here while you were out there and all he could do was watch.

You were trembling in your sleep, if from the cold or fear he didn’t know, but he kept his expression carefully guarded as he felt his own heart breaking bits by bits.

Even there covered in dirt, with your hair a wild mess and your clothes strained with mud you looked breathtaking to him.

You were pretty, there was no denying that. Everyone else saw it too. He saw it in the way heads turned for you, men‘s eyes raking over your body like you were theirs to take.

He hated it, every part of it.

They all deserved to die.

But it wasn’t your looks that had drawn his attention to you. What had fascinated him. He liked to think he wasn‘t shallow like most people and blinded by pretty things.

No, what has drawn him to you was the way you carried yourself. The confidence you wore like an amour. Yet you were breakable at the same time.

You seemed to be made up of duality; strong but so weak, fierce but uncertain, opinionated but withdrawn, stubborn but helpless.

You were a dangerous little thing and a petite fragile flower at once. Drawing all eyes on you but forgotten due to your ordinariness by most after a moment.

Not by him though. To him you could never be ordinary.

It was frustrating and captivating and alluring.

Naturally, his constant worry for you since you had entered the arena stemmed from his will to get the scholarship. It was what he deserved and he would claim it.

Tht was why he was so engaged in saving you, not because of the deep unease he felt when he saw you in that arena, your eyes drifting around frantically until they passed a camera and he could have sworn they had locked on his for a moment.

It had nothing to do with the way his whole body seemed to light up when you smiled or the invisible pull he felt towards you when you were in the same room as him.

He definitely didn’t want to kiss you and he didn’t dream about you since the reaping, when his eyes had fallen on you for the first time and he had only thought one thing: You’re mine now.

Mine to claim, to showcase, to protect.

He had gone into the mentorship thinking he would use you to serve him and his purpose of getting what he deserved, but as he watched you now, still rooted in his chair although a deep exhaustion weighted down his body, he knew he was serving you.

Being here with you every second of the way. Vowing to protect you. Whatever it took.

You awoke from your restless sleep right before the screaming started. In an instant you were up, your eyes widened in panic as you gazed around, trying to locate the source. With the rest of the students that had stayed Coriolanus flinched in his seat, leaning forward to try and help you figure this out.

As quickly as it had started the screaming stopped and for a moment you were one, both breathing and blinking heavily as your mind tried to make sense of what happened.

And then he heard a voice. His voice. “Follow me.”

He forgot to breathe for a moment as he stared at what was happening in pure shock. You seemed just as confused, turning around in circles as you tried to find him there.

„Coriolanus?”, you whispered and took a step forward, towards the voice. “Follow me”, it whispered again and he watched you do.

No, no, no.

Around him he heard chuckles from the other students, but he drowned them out. All he could focus on was you, following his voice through the darkness. “Where are you?”, you hissed, your eyes darting around. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you.”

He sank lower in his seat, wishing himself somewhere else. It wasn’t him saying the words, obviously, but it was his voice and everyone could hear it, see you follow it.

He hoped people would laugh about you. About your nativity and the brilliant idea of the gamemaker to use your mentors voice against you. Hell, he didn’t even care, if they thought you might have a silly little crush on him and the gamemaker used it against you.

Because if people knew the whole truth, he couldn’t imagine the catastrophe that would follow.

The truth that there was something between the two of you, the mentor and the tribute. That it was something he couldn’t explain, but had let him do dangerous things. Break rules. Forget himself.

The truth that this might not be him speaking those words now, but that he had spoken them to you once. Had they been listening all this time?

His stomach twist in terror as he tried to remember all you had shared with each other, all he had said to you. Promised you.

It would ruin him.

“I can’t see you”, you whispered now, being led further into darkness.

Damn it, think! He wanted to yell at you. It’s not me. I’m not there.

There was no reason for him to be there.

Except…there was.

“I’m here to see you. I won’t let anything happen to you!”

“How cute”, one girl hissed in his ear, but he remained stoic. “She’s as dumb as they come”, another said and he wanted to punch her. Enjoy the feeling of triumph when she looked at him in horror and didn’t dare open her mouth again.

“Looks like you’re guiding her straight to her own death. How ironic.”

And it was ironic.

Maybe in his attempt to protect you, save you, all he had done was ruined your one chance.

All he had said to you to make you trust him and then because he hadn’t been able to stop himself were used against you now and all he could do was watch. Keeping his face carefully blank he shut out their voices. They didn’t matter.

Finally he saw you hesitate. Maybe you had remembered his exact words or maybe you realized that you weren’t getting anywhere. That if it truly was him he would have just stepped out of the shadows and shown his face. “Is this real?”

Oh how funny it was to the people around him. He hated them all. Every single one.

Your words hit a mark. They pierced right through his heart, because he had said them to you. Whispered them. Before your farewell, when he had visited you one last time.

Your faces had only been separated by a few inches and he had fought the urge to kiss you right there and then. But he couldn’t.

Because of everything, but also because it felt too much like goodbye. It was stupid, but if he didn’t give into the temptation then, a part of him hoped it meant you would come back to him.

That your chapter wasn’t over, your story just starting. He would kiss you when you won. When there was a chance for a future with you.

Still those words had escaped his mouth, like he needed the reassurance that you felt the same way. That this meant something, so much that it was worth the risk.

Coriolanus leaned forward in his seat, hope blossoming in his chest. He didn’t know why whatever game they were playing with you hadn’t affected the other tributes yet, but he was sure their time would come.

And right now it seemed you wouldn’t fall for their tricks. Because there could come no answer to your question, as he had been the one asking it.

But he had underestimated the gamemakers.

Instead of a reply there came a scream and then a groan. “Coriolanus?” “Help me!”, he heard himself yelp. What?! He had never sounded like that.

But then flashes came back to him. The bombs. How the arena had collapsed, almost burying him alive. He would have died there, if it hadn’t been for you.

You had saved him.

But how in the hell did they get his voice now?!

“Coriolanus!”

Gone was the glimpse of hesitance and suspicion and you began sprinting into the direction the voice was coming from.

No!

He watched with dread as you ran directly towards the sound. It’s not real, he whispered, knowing you couldn’t hear him but desperately hoping somehow his words would reach you.

When you stumbled upon a clearing you jerked to a stop, twisting and turning, your gaze furiously searching for something.

“Coriolanus! Tell me where you are!” But he could only hear his own painful screams, in between pleading for your help. Sounds he was certain he had never made.

What was this?

With a stab of pain he saw your face was tearstained. You were crying. For him. For someone from the capitol.

Was this what the gamemaker wanted?

Whatever you did or said would never matter again.

All everyone would see when they looked at you now was the broken girl in a dark forest, all alone and desperate and crying for a man she never stood a chance with.

A man who knew hunger just as you did, who in a way fought for survival every day too. But they would never see that, because unlike you he wouldn’t let them. Where you had no choice, he still had one. And he was watching that one chance crumble in front of him.

Flashes of a better life filled his mind.

A house. Plates of food. Tigris smiling. His uniform, a real one made from the finest materials hanging draped neatly over a chair. Laughter echoing through the corridors and then a flash of your face as you stepped into the room, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you leaned over the desk to peek a look at what he was working on.

It was the life they deserved, he deserved, if he got the scholarship. But you were there too. Alive and well, just as breathtaking. And you were his.

There had never been the choice between the scholarship and you, because they were one. Your life was connected to it and so his was to yours.

But now he could loose both and he felt the agony of that thought travel through his whole body.

The screaming seemed to be everywhere and he watched helplessly as you bent forward, covering your ears. All he wanted was to get the screaming to stop, wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was okay.

Instead he forced a neutral expression on his face, as if seeing you break didn’t break him the same way and pray for this hell to end.

Part II

Tags:

PERMANENT

@capkilljoy @fairytalesforever @hamartocado @choke-me-sweet-pea @sleepinginthegarden7 @thenoddingbunny-blog @ttalisa @hallecarey1 @Not-jay-c @sunwardsss @writingrem-blog @the-pink-petite-princess @wanniiieeee @part-time-patronus @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @theshortegg @not-reptilian @msdrpreist @alisonhepps @hallecarey1 @thatfangirl42 @dustyinkpages @ellabellabus07 @iluvjj @wayward-hunter @sweet-texas-girl @rosie-posie08 @ @olsensnpm @meyocoko @alexxavicry @shhh423 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jayyeahthatsme @savagemickey03 @alexxavicry @partiallypearl @earthtolottie @gisobsessedwithfanfiction @navs-bhat @AlohaStitch_626 @multi-fandom-lover7667 @xcallmetaniax @esposadomd @halsteadloversworld @girlintheredscarf @randomwriter1021 @joyfulfxckery

Add yourself to my taglist!

3K notes · View notes

nanamiskentos · 3 months ago

Note

Begging you to write something for Kashimo you're the only writer I've seen that actively writes for him please i will literally suck you off (pretend I just didn't type that, i'm just desperate for fine shyt)

I CAN DO A LOT WITH FIFTEEN MINUTES ❛ hajime kashimo won't ever admit defeat, even if there's a time constraint. he just has to make you finish ❜

cw — afab!reader, MDNI, marking, édging, kashimo doesn't fw gojo, thigh ríding, inappropriate jujutsu usage, gojo cameo, fíngéring

"i kinda' ship them, wouldn't you agree?" you're snapping your glossy mouth, gently gnawing on your lower lip. straddled over a toned, muscular thigh, with your back pressed against a washboard, deliciously carved abdomen, "hakari and kirara, right?"

you hear a clever tongue click absent-mindedly behind the soft shell of your ear, "i do not understand this, i may find them . . insufferable, but are they not friends of yours?" you can hear the strained confusion colouring kashimo's voice, that, and the impatience as he's hissing and sucking a quick draw of breath between teeth as you lean back into him just a little bit more, "why would you send them off on a boat?"

ah, sometimes it's easy to forget that the sharp-tongued, bratty, teal-haired sorcerer ( who spends his days attempting to pick fights with anyone who looks at him 'funny' ) is yet to fully swap out his birth-tongue medieval vernacular for something a bit more up to date.

"it means that i think they'd look cute together, 'jime," you sigh, hearing kashimo sigh, loud and heavy, before opting to bury his face into the crook of your neck. if only to nip at the soft flesh there, awaiting the blooming petals of the pink and violet bruises he so loves to see there.

"that's nice, little dove," kashimo murmurs, and you can tell that he's doing his best to indulge your gossip and conversation, but the thick curve that's straining against the loose drape of his martial pants is making it quite difficult for him to focus, "but we do not have long before everyone is scheduled to meet here. and the last thing i wish for is that irritating, white-haired upstart to kick up a fuss."

"who?" you frown, a soft whine slipping from your lips as kashimo's strong hands find a firm grip on your waist, gently beginning to move you back and forth in a slow rocking motion, "gojo?"

"if i do not like someone, i will not indulge them by speaking their name."

sighhh, frankly what gojo thinks is the last thing on your mind right now. . . for all you can truly think about is the gentle, cloying strands of slick that must be pooling now in your underwear. stimulated by the soft brush of fabric creating an electrifying friction, dampening kashimo's pants with a translucent stain of your arousal.

you're so lost in the addictive sway of your cunt against the contours and muscle of kashimo's thighs, like the subtle pressure of a coiled spring just waiting to break loose, "feels s-so good, 'jime."

a rasp-rough chuckle from kashimo, his hands falling away from your hips and leaving you to rock yourself against his thigh in growing desperation. hands instead curling around your front to slide surreptitiously up your top, breezing past sensitive and pebbled skin to gently cup your breasts, tweaking and flicking, "yeah, yeah? thought so, heh, my fair lady."

but just as you're so, so close to seeing stars shoot across your vision, kashimo bounces his thigh, creating the most delicious jolt that suddenly breaks your rhythm and leaving you to kiss your climax a tearful goodbye, "what the f-fuck, i was gonna' –"

kashimo is so close to you, his face practically glued to the back of your neck that you can feel the flutter of his long, teal lashes as he rolls his eyes, "whaaat? you were gonna cum, was that it, little dove? is that why you're suddenly so –," a bandaged finger reaching around to wipe a stray, frustrated crystalline droplet from your teary eyes, "weak, mm? weak for my touch?"

"y-you're the one who said we didn't have long 'n –"

the same finger that was gently brushing over your weeping eye, gliding away the last remnants of your ruined orgasm, now presses over your lips, firm, "shh."

kashimo quickly spreads his thighs apart, and considering you had just been balancing on one, the action should have toppled your balance. but a veiny arm wraps your waist, keeping you in. . place pressed against his back.

instead, now your legs are spread wide, each ankle hooked around kashimo's calves so you balance precariously.

praying to god, to tengen, to every deity out there and throwing whoever you can quickly of in, that the training room door will remained closed for at least fifteen minutes. but it's hard to think rationally when kashimo is purring, still pressed to your back as he reaches around your waist to gently pull down your waistband.

"how filthy," he teases, "tsk', i've barely even touched you, and you're drippin' allll over my fingers." and while you'd like to keep your dignity intact, there's no denying that every prod of kashimo's padded fingertips against your pussy leaves the bandages soaked in your wetness.

"alright, little dove," kashimo murmurs, "here we go, keep ya' balance for me." and you wonder why he's bothering to give you a warning when your cunt is already spread by his hand, but in hindsight, it makes so much sense because like most things kashimo does, his pace is brutal and aiming to win.

in and out, in and out. the sloppy pshh and pop! of kashimo's fingers driving into your gummy walls has you keening, and it has the old sorcerer loudly moaning before he sucks in a breath, lips pressed together tightly like all he wants to hear right now is you, just you.

"ah, ah, 'jime," you writhe in his gasp, groaning as his fingers prod and curl in all the right places. sharp, pistoning motions that faintly crackle, you swear, heightening every sensation tenfold, "are you, f-fuck, are you seriously using –, oh my god!"

you can feel kashimo smile against your neck, and the soft press of his lips on your skin, "am i using what, love?" waiting for your answer that was never going to arrive, not with how kashimo's pumping his middle finger against that sweet spot, "ah, can't even speak now, 's a damn shame."

what a debauched sight the two of you must make. kashimo, flushed just from watching and hearing you fall apart on his lap, with his teal hair unbound. choppy, slick strands brushing his shoulders. you, with your legs pushed wide open, and wider still as kashimo jolts his own thighs apart further.

you're babbling now, riddled cries of the sorcerer's name, as he never lets up, not even once on the nasty pace. if you turn your head to fall back against kashimo's shoulder, you can taste the trail of salt-tears at the corner of your mouth, "baby, 'j-jime, so close now, baby."

"good, good," kashimo hisses, and you don't miss how he's furiously bucking his hips up, jolting you higher into his lap as he must chase some friction for his own release, "if you jus' hold onn, little dove."

a thumb messily gliding through your glossy mess to flick at your clit, all in conjunction with kashimo melding three fingers into your pussy, well, it's got you hurtling close and the sorcerer knows it, "three." he crooks his fingers inside and towards your groin, "two." sloppily running his thumb alongside the side of your clit, scooping, "one."

a devastating high that leaves you both panting, and your hips clenching and twitching, your arousal so plentiful that it's beginning to froth and pool at the edges of your pushed aside underwear. kashimo hisses, and then sighs, "made a mess, love." and you need not pointedly mention the dark stain on his loose, white pants.

"you look like a mess, 'jime." your legs feel utterly boneless but you make an effort to move, falling back into kashimo's surprisingly gentle, "i've got a hold of you." the sorcerer's laughing as you smooth your skirt down, grimacing at the slap of slick and sweat that's dampening your flesh.

kashimo's snapping his teeth around a loose tie that hangs off his wrist to scrape his cyan hair back up into his recognisable knots, "you know, if we had more time, little dove, i would have –" he makes a quick whistling sound, jerking his wrist over his groin and pointedly looking down to your shaking thighs, "but we had to make do."

it's a surprisingly crude gesture from the prudish sorcerer that makes you laugh, "and right on time, too. because i swear, if anyone had –"

"i swear to fucking god, you two pull that shit again, i'm going to fight sukuna early." yeah, right on time, because gojo's pushing open the training room door with one hand, the most disgusted look over his face that informs you that you didn't account for the sheer magnitude of six eyes.

gojo's bright-blue eyes swivel away from the turquoise-haired sorcerer now, to where you're shuffling sheepishly and avoiding kashimo's proud, fanged grin, "and you, control your boy toy. i don't have time for this shit."

you press your lips together in faint embarrassment in front of one of your oldest friends, all while kashimo is vaguely fiddling with his hands, making you wonder if he's about to pull out some new domain expansion that no one has heard of. but what you end up hearing is a satisfied 'aha!'.

"see, i'm getting the hang of these modern things." kashimo's fingers are curled into a tight fist, all save for the middle one, proudly flipping gojo off ( who just mutters some ominous portent about hoping that december 24 rolls around quicker )

#i too am desperate for fine shyt 😭 come home to me kashimo come home to papa (me and the five kashimo fans on this site 🎉)#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x reader #hajime kashimo smut #kashimo x reader #kashimo #kashimo smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #anime smut #smut

265 notes · View notes

casuallyanidiot · 10 months ago

Note

Oh dear. Poor reader :(. They must be crying and whimpering, all scared in that dark but spacious boot of his car. It's not right, their screams are perfectly muffled by the gag he so perfectly and effectively bound them up in.

Can you blame him though? It's painfully infuriating to see them struggle in shitty flats with worse room mates. He made sure they can't work anywhere else so they definitely can't afford anything better. Yan (ex) coworker knows they'd be happiest and safest locked inside his lovely manor at the edge of some remote forest with no where to run! ☺️

He's got everything prepared. A pretty room, locked up for them to acclimatise so that they don't hurt themselves or him. They don't even have to worry about the things they love, he's already got everything shipped out there.

What's wrong? He's got everything they could possibly need. Don't piss him off now. He's seen them be useless at everything ever. Just be the pretty doll they know they can be :)

Yandere coworker, if you can even call him that anymore, is nicer to you once you're chained in his basement than he's ever been before.

It's honestly a guilty pleasure of his, but he can't help but get hard when he sees you all teary and curled up on the plush bed he's given you. Yandere coworker smiles despite your fear. He loves this. Finally after all this time, you're the weak little thing he knew you always were.

"Don't cry baby," He coos. "I'm gonna take good care of you," He murmurs with an almost giddy smile. He grabs your ankle and tugs you towards him. You try and claw away from him, but of course you can't even do that. God, you're helpless without him.

Yandere Coworker wrangles you onto his lap and squishes your face in his hand. "Be nice," He warns despite the soft grin on his face. He forced you into a cute little outfit earlier. He had always imagined that you would look far better in short, frilly skirts and soft pastel sweaters than you would office wear. He's glad to know that he, as usual, was right.

"Be nice," He repeats. "You're acting like the world is ending, baby." His voice is full of playful affection. He presses open mouthed kisses to the back of your neck and rolls his clothes hips against yours. You whimper, and he can't help but chuckle. Even after all of this, you still don't get how good you have it. The entire room is filled with designer furniture, all tasteful and cute like you. There's nothing on your body that's worth less than a hundred dollars, and he feeds you (even if by force) only the best meals.

"You're just so dumb, sweetie," Yandere coworker murmurs as he nibbles on your earlobe and forces your thighs apart. He hears you squeak and feels you shake against him. He shushes you quietly. "Acting like you can do anything for yourself... Fuck, you're so useless. You can't even get good sleep if I don't make you, huh?"

You flinch. You try to argue, but he delivers another warning squeeze to your cheeks. He hums and draws circles up your plush thighs with his thumb. "That's why you need me, baby," He practically moans out his words. You're terrified, and even though he knows that he should be trying to get you to accept all of this, he just loves how you tense up in his arms.

"But I know, baby," His voice drips with false sympathy like honey on his tongue. You "I know exactly what you're good for."

Yandere Coworker knows that it's hard for something so simple and sweet like you to understand that this is a good thing. Maybe once you're face down, ass up and stuffed full of his cock, you'll stop pretending like you can even do that.

#yandere x reader #my writing #yandere #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere x you #stalker yandere #fanfic writing #yandere boyfriend #x reader #yandere co worker #yandere core #yandere concept #yandere character #answered asks #ask #asks open #smut #tw kidnapping

786 notes · View notes

danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

Note

Soooo, I hope that this is alright to request. I can't really pick between a ship for this b/c I love them and how you write them so much. So, if you don't mind, could you write about the reactions of Feysand, Rowaelin, and Nessian + Azriel (...Nesriel?? IDK) to reader getting poisoned by an enemy (reader lives, but is left feeling very, very weak and ill)?? If you just want to do one or two that's fine... I was just curious to see how some of them might react :).

Cured By You headcanons

Feysand x reader, Rowaelin x reader, & Nezriel x reader

A/n: I would not be able to pick between them in general and I love these ships and so happy you do too anon

Warnings: poison, over bearing mates

Feysand

It happened while visiting the court of nightmares

You felt like an idiot, you always check your drinks or have Azriel’s shadows check

When you wake up 2 days later you were more embarrassed than anything. Especially passing out in the middle of the Court of Nightmares, like what a rookie move

Cassian and Azriel jump into action as Rhys scoops you to his chest. Feyre unleashes her claws, practically growling in Kier's direction. Rhys grabs her and winnows the three of you home to an awaiting Madja

thankfully you healed quickly. whoever poisned you clearly didn't get their dosage right

you still feel weak and get tired easily during the day for a few weeks

the first thing you see is Rhys and Feyre casually chatting. you watch them for a bit before reaching for Feyre's hand that's casually draped on the bed

they jump at your movement and are overjoyed that you're finally awake

if you thought they were doting and overly fussy about you when you have the sniffles, think again. these two are unbearable!

Rhys carries you everywhere. it was a struggle to convince them to let you out of bed so this was the compromise

the poison had weakend you to the point where lifting your arms was a chore. Feyre had decided to feed you even though most of the time you gave her an I'm-going-to-kill-you look

you considered yourself lucky though. to have mates that take care of you is a blessing

Rowaelin

Furious doesn’t even begin to describe how Rowan and Aelin felt

everything was fine, dinner was going great. this new alliance with a kingdom bordering Wendlyn seemed promising

until you polished off your wine. you turned pale and Rowan immediately scented that something was wrong with you

you passed out, collapsing from your chair. the dining room fell into chaos as soon as Fenrys sniffed your glass and announced you'd been poisoned

the guests were ushered out and taken to another room to be interrogated while Rowan rushes you to your shared bedroom, Yrene following and ready to draw the poison from your system

you woke up two days later with Fleetfoot watching over you, her golden head laying on your stomach. her big brown eyes staring at you. petting Fleetfoot behind the ears she shakes your hand off after having her fill. leaping off the bed the large golden beast sits by the door and begins to howl as loud as she possibly can

the queen and king coming running, almsot breaking down the door

Fleetfoot wags her tail at the sight of Aelin, running back over to sit next to the bed as your mates approach

the pair throw themselves down next to you, squishing you between them carefully. "We were so worried, oh gods." Aelin breathes out as Rowan repeatedly kisses your face

(like Feysand) the two of them don't let you lift a finger. Rowan never gets to do this for Aelin so he babies you to the max

from helping you walk and work out the muscels in your body to feeding and bathing you he does everything for you

Aelin spoild you with attention and treats. you two spend all her free time snuggled up in bed eating junk food

Nesriel

they each have a very different (yet extreme and justified) reaction

Azriel starts threatening people with Nesta, who lets her power rumble through the room, flames cupped in her hands

Cassian is getting you the hell out of there and to Madja

Cass doesn't let go of you for a single second while the healers pulls the poison from your body. he presses kisses to your temple and whispers sweet nothings as you writhe in pain from the poison being extracted

while you sleep for a week they hover over you, watching over you like hawkes

Azriel sleeps sitting up in a chair next to the bed while Nesta sleeps next to you, playing with your hair so you feel soothed in your unconcious state

when you wake up you're startled to find Cassian curled up at the end of the bed like a dog, Azriel in a chair, and Nesta next to you

Az's shadows go haywire next to his ears, alerting him to your conciousness. the shadows rush to alert Cass and Nes who perk up immediately

Nesta sits up, holding your face in her hands, "oh thank gods, you're ok." she coos on the verge of tears

even though you're weak you force your arm to move so you can hold her wrist. "I'm ok," you whisper

you all thought Cassian would be the more doting/crazy one but it turns out to be Nesta

she freaks out every time Az or Cass move you, worried about your comfort levels or if you're in pain. she yells at them if you even wince, "Careful! you're hurting her!" they always give her the same exasperated look as you giggle

when they find out who poisoned you Cassian tells you and stays with you. meanwhile Az lets Nesta tag along to the interrogation

he even let Nesta participate and she did not hold back. making this guy feel the worst pain he has ever endured

458 notes · View notes

0ekkye0 · 9 months ago

Text

i need to draw ling more cause i have no idea how to translate him in my style 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 ANYWAY

first look at my FashionStudent!Ed AU (i need to find a better name for it)

i have everyone's roles and majors listed i just need to finish everyone's designs so i can start spamming ya'll with art of them

just so u know it WILL be an EdLing au because i'm obsessed and weak BUT it will have other ships and other dynamics because i like to suffer and love chaos

#fma #art #my art #ekkye art #fma fanart #digital art #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #edward elric #ling yao #edling #edling fanart #au #fma au #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood fanart #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist au

316 notes · View notes

logansobsession · 9 months ago

Text

Intoxicating Desire

Pairings: Logan Howlett x fem! mutant reader

Summary: You and Logan have always been close friends, you knew everything about each other and did everything together. The only thing Logan doesn't do, is sit where your power is strongest: the greenhouse. Logan has never seen or heard about your power.

Word count: 4.8 K

Content Warnings: Explicit (18+ mdni), Smut, dirty thoughts, spitting, spicy tension, age gap, praising kink, no use of y/n, reader has ability to control plants and produce flowers from body, along with other flower related things, borderline sub!, teasing, choking.

A/N: This has been sitting in the back of my mind for the past week, I love me a weak Logan * cries out*. Something about his shell breaking and being putty in our hands makes ME turn to putty. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

The greenhouse. The place you go to find solace. Granted, it's the only place you can go to feel your powers fully. With being "graced" with the mutation to control plants, along with sprouting whatever you decide from your body.

The silence. The pure oxygen from the plants. It's otherworldly to you, keeping you chained there for hours, sometimes days. Most of your friends at the mansion know about your mutation. But, it's never spoken per your request. Everyone has such powerful mutations, spectacles of wonder and curiosity, then there's you. The plant girl.

You used to hate the mutation when you were shipped to the mansion at 16. Suppressing it any moment given. Charles spent hours upon hours with you, slowly teaching you to love and use the mutation in beautiful ways. Hank taught you how to control your frustrations and anger, which made it more difficult to control it. Scott... Scott didn't teach anything to you, he just enjoyed watching the show when you did use the mutation.

But Logan? He became your best friend, in the aspects of being your mentor. Taught you how to fight and defend yourself during hand to hand combat. He was there to offer a silent shoulder when you cried about boys, to hanging out with you. In fact, you guys hung out everywhere. Until Charles had the greenhouse built for you shortly after turning 18.

Logan never came to visit you when you would hole yourself up for hours. Nobody did really. The only person that visited you was Hank, but he couldn't handle the humidity as well as you did.

Today was humid, but rain pouring down as if the gods were crying. Which meant you would receive no visitors. The constant assault of rain upon the see through roof provided a lulling background noise, it was almost calming enough to let you rest there.

Logan was walking around the halls, bored out of his mind, he didn't have anything to do so he decided to try and find something or someone to cure his boredom with. He turned the corner and began to approach the greenhouse.

You stood in front of a rose bush, trimming any dead or sick leaves and stems from the bush. The rain was a constant sound, almost drowning out the sound of Logan's knocking before entering the greenhouse.

He stood at the entrance to the greenhouse, peering in at you, watching you for a moment before deciding to interrupt you.

"Hey." He said in a gruff voice.

You jumped in surprise, clutching at your heart before smiling.

"Hey! You finally visiting? Or is it too hot in here for you?"

"Too hot?" He raised a questioning eyebrow and shut the door behind him, the temperature in the room didn't seem to bother him at all.

"Seems fine in here to me."

You nod and laugh "Most of them don't enjoy being in here because it gets fairly humid. I think the rain cooled it down a significant amount today." as you gesture to the roof with the plant trimmers before resuming your task.

"Eh, I've been through worse." He shrugged, slowly drawing closer to you, looking over your shoulder to see what you were doing.

You smile again, continuing your work. "I'm cutting any sick or dead stems from the bush. Keeps the plant itself from getting sick or dying."

You look over your shoulder at him. "Would you like a stool? I usually keep one nearby incase Hank or Scott come to visit."

"Nah, I'm fine." He insisted, as he leaned against the wall, he continued to watch you as you worked, he wasn't all that interested in what you were doing with the plant; he was more interested in you to be honest, he'd just never come to check on you as he usually avoided the greenhouse.

"Alright, suit yourself." You shrug your shoulders before doing a final check on the bush, ensuring you didn't leave any behind. You take a step back and smile at your work.

"Now that's a healthy rose bush if I do say so myself." You walk back to the center of the greenhouse, a midsize willow tree surrounded by stone bricks. You sit down on the stone and pat the empty spot next to you.

He watched you as you sat down and pat next to you, beckoning him to sit with you. Logan pushed himself off the wall and stalked over to you, taking a seat next to you. Even sitting down he still dwarfed you in both size and stature, he leaned against the trunk of the tree but still turned his head to look at you, with an eyebrow raised.

You stare up at the willow, and smile. As you're looking up, you say "Isn't it beautiful? Charles picked the location of the green house for the sole purpose of this willow. It's soothing in a way. Branches drooping, almost sad in a constant melancholy state."

He also looked up at the willow, and he had to agree that it was beautiful. As he watched the branches sway, he also noticed the way that they seemed to droop, as if they were sad.

"It does have a calming presence to it." He agreed as he sat by your side, watching the willow.

You break your gaze from the willow, bringing it to Logan. "So how come you never come to the greenhouse? I'm almost always in here. Granted, no one likes the plant loving mutant and her weird fascination with plants, so I don't blame any of you."

He turned his face to look at you, he thought for a moment in whether he should be fully honest with you or not. He let out a sigh before speaking.

"It's not that I have anything against you, I just ain't a big fan in spending a whole lot of time around plants, or inside for that matter."

You nod your head, listening to him as he spoke. You pat your hands against your lap before you stood in front of him "Do you actually think I'm a mutant... like you?" you say as you place your hands on your hips.

Logan raised an eyebrow curiously as you asked the question. What a strange and out of the blue question to ask, he thought to himself as he looked up at you. He also noticed a shift in your tone. So leaned back against the willow and took a moment to think about his answer, before responding, "If I had to make a guess... I'd think you're a mutant."

You nod your head and smile. "That is correct. But my mutation isn't anything special. So I never use it." You shrug before picking up the trimmers and walk over to a patch of lilacs.

He continued to watch you as you moved over to a different plant. He stood up and followed you to the patch of lilacs. " Why don't you use it? You've been here for years, and I've never seen you do anything different?"

You get down on your knees and slowly start your work on the lilacs "Well it doesn't serve any real purpose, so I don't use it. I'm not a show off like some people in the mansion." You turn your head up at Logan and smile innocently.

He chuckled at your response, "No, you're too sweet to be that kind of person." A thought suddenly crossed his mind, he looked down at the lilacs as you worked on them.

"May I ask you something?"

You smile wider at Logan's compliment and turn your head back to the lilacs "Of course, I'm an open book. You can ask me anything."

He watched you for a moment as you continued to work. He paused for a moment, he was suddenly feeling a bit nervous but he didn't show outward signs of it. "So, what exactly is your mutation then?"

You let out a small sigh and slowly stand up. You walk back to the willow, setting the trimmers down. " I'm a little rusty, it's not something I do often, so bear with me." You say, brushing your hands off on your apron. "Come here" You hold out your hand for Logan to come near.

He watched you as you finished up and put the trimmers down. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity as you held out your hand and gestured for him to come closer. He hesitantly stepped closer towards you.

"Come closer...I need you closer for this." You wave him to come closer. You shake your arms and shoulders, growing nervous as to if you can even do it anymore. You smile and wink at Logan, " This is my favorite party trick. But I save it for special people."

He watched you as you stood in front of him with a nervous smile. He raised his eyebrow as you said it was a "party trick". Still, he was more than intrigued to know what exactly what your trick was. He stepped even closer to you, standing in front of you.

You place your hands softly on Logan's chest, over his heart. I looked up at him, " I need you to think about something or someone you care about or love. Whatever it may be. Okay?" You raise your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

He took a sharp breath as you placed your hands on his chest. He felt his heart rate pick up as you did so. He looked down at you, noticing you had gotten closer to him. He nodded, he had someone in his mind.

"Alright. I got what I need in mind."

Logan watched in surprise as the green house began to change around the both of you, as vines and branches creeped up the glass walls, making it much darker inside than it was before. He looked up at the roof and saw it covered in vines and branches. He watched as vines slowly crept down, blooming into long tufts of wisteria. He looked back down at you, he was shocked to see you exerting this kind of power. He'd never expected it from someone of your nature. Still, he kept his mouth shut, eager to see what you'd do next.

You let out a ragged breath, searching for any more power you had. Slowly, hues of pinks and purples erupted from your hair. Tiny flowers blossomed, framing your face perfectly. You open your eyes, breathing hard and smiling. Your hands still resting on Logan's chest as you say "Like my party trick?" You look around at the vines and flowers covering the inside of the greenhouse.

He was speechless, he looked around in awe at the greenhouse. Covered in vines, with wisteria everywhere. His eyes fell back down to you as you spoke. He looked over your face, noticing all the tiny flowers framing your pretty face. He blinked a few times in shock, until he finally came back to his sense and spoke, his voice slightly shaky from the shock. "That's a pretty amazing party trick you have there."

You smile and gently remove your hands from Logan's chest. He remained in a daze, watching you pat his chest before removing your hands. You looked up at the ceiling, proud of the show you had put on for Logan, after not using your abilities in at least two years.

You reached up, grabbing a small tuft of wisteria, opening Logan's hand and placing the flower in his hand gently. He felt his heart skip a beat as you grabbed his hand, placing the flower there. He could feel butterflies in his stomach as you looked at him.

Your face grows warm before speaking up, " I do have one little more part of my mutation that I didn't tell you about."

Logan raise an eyebrow slightly at your words, listening intently as you spoke. You'd piqued his curiosity. A part of your mutation that you hadn't told him about? He found that interesting and honestly a bit annoying that you hadn't told him already.

"There's a part to your mutation that you haven't told me about? And what is that part, sweetheart?"

You smile, taking a step back so you could clearly see his face. "You know some flowers release a scent? An almost intoxicating scent that's alluring to the senses?"

He glanced after you as you stepped away from him, watching as you brought your hands to your sides. He nodded his head, already knowing where you're going with this. He was already realizing that you'd been holding something back from him. "Yeah, I know what you're talking about, why?"

You stay silent point to yourself, hoping he makes the connection. It took him a moment, but he soon caught on to what you were hinting at. And as soon as he had, he swore his knees almost buckled at the realization.

"You-your flowers do release a scent that's luring to the senses?"

You nod, "Some of them yes. As an extra boost. But Charles taught me to suppress my emotions and this because it acts as pheromone." You state. You take a few moments in silence. "Would you like to see what I mean?"

He didn't even have to think before nodding his head, he wanted to see un-suppress this little ability of yours, seeing the effects it'd have just out of pure curiosity. " Yeah, I'd like to see what you mean. Go on sweetheart go ahead and show me."

You sit down on the stone by the willow tree and close your eyes. You mentally unravel everything Charles had taught you. Slowly. But surely, a rainbow of colors blossomed within your hair and an intoxicating scent mixed with your pheromones.

Logan was absolutely mesmerized as he watched you sit down and close your eyes, watching in wonder as the normally subtle blossoms in your hair began to explode to an almost dazzling spectrum of colors. And as the intoxicating scent mixed your pheromones, he strange sort of need grow in his chest.

"Sweetheart... What are you doing to me..."

The scent grew stronger, becoming easily detected by the normal senses. It filled the green house, almost creating an invisible haze. The scent was slowly driving Logan crazy. His breathing was getting heavier in response to it, the smell being intoxicating like you had said. He felt something deep within him respond and almost beg for him to get physically closer to you.

"Fuck... darling...the smell... It's messing with me..."

You opened your eyes slowly while holding your breath and looked at Logan. You tilted your head in a way of saying "I told you so" before closing your eyes again and cutting off the scent from emanating any more. You stood up and walked back to Logan and smiled.

The moment you'd cut off the scent, he felt like he'd suddenly been doused in a bucket of cold water. He was suddenly able to actually get his bearings again, able to realize how strongly he'd been affected by you un-suppressing that part of your mutation.

"Jesus Christ... that scent was... something else.. I don't think I've ever felt that type of need for someone, sweetheart..."

You dramatically bow, and stand back up straight. " And that is why I spent four years training alone with Charles. All in the mind."

Logan chuckled softly, feeling amused at how dramatically you had bowed just to emphasize the effectiveness of the power you had just revealed. " Damn... I can't really blame Charles for spending that much time with you to make sure you'd be able to control it. If you could just let that loose, anytime, you'd have every single person in the mansion swooning over you in no time."

You look down at your hands momentarily, " That isn't it at the strongest, I know your heightened senses are probably raw from that little bit. I could show you, but if you need fresh air, I promise I won't be mad at you Logan."

As the scent of the flowers still lingered throughout the air, mixing with the subtle but still present smell of your pheromones. It was driving him insane, like a constant itch in the back of his mind, to just grab you and keep you close to him. "Darling I'm not going anywhere."

He hadn't completely regained control yet and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave you alone when he was still being affected by you. You look at him and nod, understanding. " I'll go somewhere where you can't hurt me and I can stop anytime that you want me to."

His breath hitched slightly at your question. His head was still clouded from the scent that had filled the green house and he couldn't think clearly enough to decide whether that would be a good idea or not. Something deep within him was still demanding and almost begging for him to get closer to you, to hold you in his arms. But he somehow managed to answer coherently

"You sure you want to do that sweetheart?"

"I want to show you what it's like if I went out on a field mission with you guys." You start speaking as you look at Logan. "I can't direct it yet at a single person, so if I use it against an enemy, it'll also affect the entire team."

Logan nodded as you spoke, listening intently. The strong scent still filled the air, his mind still in a haze. He was definitely tempted to get closer to you, but he managed to rein in his urges, barely..

"So that's why you can't actually go missions... it'll affect the team as well, not just the enemies.."

You nod your head "Yes. It's really the only useful and semi powerful thing in relation to my mutation..." You trail off, bringing your hand back to Logan's chest. "Are you sure you want to go through it again?"

He was tempted to just wrap his arms around you the second you put your hand on his chest, feeling it like a jolt to his system that just further made it hard to think. But he managed to answer you again,

"Yeah. Go ahead, sweetheart. Let's see what happens."

"Stay right there and don't move" you say with a serious tone coating your voice. You walk over to the willow tree and begin climbing in.

You reach the part of the tree that has a groove, perfect for sitting, a place you commonly rested at. You sat yourself in a way that Logan could still see you, but still in a way that would prevent you from falling in case you fainted.

"And you're positive that you want to do this?"

Logan watched as you went and climbed the tree. He was definitely having to exert every last ounce of willpower and strength he had to follow your instructions and just stay where he was and not follow you up that damn tree. "Sweetheart, I'm positive. Go ahead and show me what you got."

You close your eyes and open your arms from your body. Flowers blossoming from your head, painting your arms in hues of pinks and purples. You slowly begin to smell the familiar scent you spent hours holding deep down, radiate from your skin. As your eyes are closed and focusing on your body, you softly say "This isn't full power... Are you okay?"

The moment he felt the scent return to the air and begin to permeate throughout the greenhouse, all control Logan had was gone; the scent completely taking over his mind within moments. All he could think about was getting up to you, how perfect you would fit in his arms, and how much he just wanted to get close and touch you. But he tried to answer you in a coherent way. "Yeah... I'm fine... keeping going.."

You take a deep breath and let your mind and body begin to take over. You mentally go to a different place as the scent grows unbearably strong. Your body begins to sweat, beads of sickly sweet sweat rolling from your face down onto your cleavage. The sweat creates an even more pungent aroma that mingles with the scent within the greenhouse.

Logan's breathing was becoming shakier with every second that passed, feeling the scent grow even stronger and that mixed with the beads of sweat slowly making their way down your body was driving him absolutely insane. He was still having to exercise every ounce of self control to not follow you up the damn tree, desperately fighting against the overwhelming urge to just grab you and make you his.

"Oh...God... sweetheart you're making this so damn goddamn hard..."

It's been so long since you've let go like this, the release of pent up energy felt good, too good. You lean back hard, back connecting with the thick tree branch as the scent rolls off of you in thick, aggressive waves, as your self control whittles down to nothing.

He was at the very edge of his willpower by this point, the scent was so damn strong now and the sight of you lean back, sweat rolling down your body was taking every ounce of control he had away.

"Fuck...sweetheart you're going to send me over the edge... I swear to God I'm gonna completely lose it if you go anymore..."

Logan's voice sounding further away as you drift away from the control you had spent years precising. You knew deep down that you would have to go back to working with Charles, but in the very moment, it felt soothing to finally lose control.

Logan couldn't think clearly at all by this point, the scent that filled the air and the sight of your body, sweat beginning to soak your camisole, were driving him past the brink of sanity.

"God... Sweetheart... I can't hold back anymore.. I'm gonna do something...I'm warning you now"

You relish in the feeling of release, realizing that it needs to be done more than not doing it at all. Flowers and thin vines erupting from your hands, crawling and wrapping slowly around the tree; creating more open pockets to release the intoxicating aroma.

That was it.

You relishing in the release and the sight of the vines and flowers from your hands, wrapping around the tree was the last straw for Logan. He couldn't hold back anymore and as such, he gave in to the urge, not caring anymore.

"God DAMN it... I warned you." He let out a growl as he quickly ran towards the tree.

You laid there in uncontrolled bliss, too far off of the edge on control to reel it back in. Logan quickly jumped, using every ounce of his strength to scale the tree and get up to where you were, looking absolutely feral as he approached you, where you were sitting in the small groove of the tree.

"Oh sweetheart... look at you... you look like an absolute mess.. like a damn vision sitting up here... a vision that's mine to touch."

You barely feel Logan's body heat as your senses are far more defined than before. But all control of this has been lost and you lay there deep within your mind.

He quickly crowded towards you, leaning over you slightly as you sat there in a sort of half dazed state in the tree. He was feeling very, very possessive of you in this moment, seeing you with sweat coating your body; flowers and vines from your hands wrapping around the tree, and that scent of yours filling the air.

"God you're so damn perfect like this, so damn gorgeous.. so damn mine to touch..."

The lull of release temporarily becomes bearable and you slowly come back to your mind, scent still radiating from your body. You open your eyes and see Logan leaning over you, eyes dark and filled with desire.

He was looming over you, body almost fully caging you to the trunk of the tree. Eyes dark, nothing but lust and wild with possessiveness as he looked down on you, seeing you slowly start to come back to your senses. He couldn't help but take in the sight of you, practically drenched in sweat and flowers, sitting there in a half-dazed state of release at his touch. "There you are... look at you doll... a complete mess..."

You hazily smiled, closing your eyes once again, more vines erupting from your hands, slowly slinking around Logan, tying him in place all while pulling him closer. You whisper to him gently "I told you it's a lot."

Logan tried to bite back a moan as he was suddenly enveloped by the vines from your hands, feeling them wrap around his arms and legs, pulling him even closer until he was fully pressed against you, completely at your mercy.

"Doll... you're killing me here.. you feel so damn good..."

You look at him through half-lidded eyes, whispering "You doing okay?"

He nodded quickly at your question, feeling like his body had never been more alive and on fire than right then. Being all tied up by the vines from your hands, being held so close against you, the aroma of flowers and the sweat from your body being absolutely overpowering...

"Yeah... I'm doing more than okay sweetheart.."

A vine slowly snaked up Logan's back and around his neck, wrapping itself firmly around his neck as more flowers blossomed, releasing the aroma right underneath his nose.

He practically saw stars as the vine began to wrap around his neck, flowers releasing more of the damn intoxicating scent and completely scrambling his mind even more. He let out an almost guttural sounding moan at the intense feeling, the vines and scent making it increasingly difficult to think.

"God... sweetheart.. that feels so goooood...."

You close your eyes once more, controlling the vines wrapping Logan, pulling him face to face with me. The vine grips at Logan's neck again, you open your eyes again and smile. " Told you it's powerful.." You whisper against his lips.

Logan looked completely feral with how he practically on the verge of losing it as you pulled his face even closer, the vine around his neck tugging again, making the sensation even more intense. He let out a guttural moan again at how good it felt being wrapped up and completely within your power, being so close to your face with your lips just barely touching his.

" God sweetheart... you're insane."

You open your mouth just barely, dragging your tongue against Logan's bottom lip before bringing it into your mouth, biting and tugging at it before releasing it. "Tell me what you want to do to me Logan...please."

Logan practically whimpered at that, the feeling of your tongue against his bottom lip and you biting and tugging was more intense than he really expected it to be, driving him insane. He let out another guttural moan as you released his lip, feeling completely under your control as he managed to answer

"I want.. want to touch you.. kiss you.. feel your bare skin against mine.. just have you completely."

A low hum radiates from your throat as you bite Logan's bottom lip again, harder and drawing blood from his lip. "Tell me what you want to do to my body Logan."

He let out another moan as you bite his lip again, drawing blood. It hurt, but he couldn't focus on the pain as the feeling being tangled and held by the vines and being held so damn close you was overwhelming.

"God..I'm..I'm gonna kiss your body all over.. gonna feel your skin.. gonna devour every damn inch of you and make you mine..."

You hum again, "Tell me you're mine... tell me you'll be mine to use and play with whenever my little heart desires Logan.."

He let out a moan at the hum you gave him, feeling more and more like he was yours to use and play with. His primal side was fully taking over at this point as he answered.

" God yes... I'm yours sweetheart, I'm all yours.. I'll be yours to use and play with whenever your damn little heart pleases..."

You close your eyes, tightening the vine around Logan's neck even more "Good boy..." You whisper, praising him.

Logan let out another moan as the vine around his neck was tightened even more, his breathing becoming even more labored as it took him everything he had to answer you. His mind completely fogged over by how this felt, being so completely captured by you, completely at your mercy.

"God... yes... I'm your good boy.. please sweetheart... don't stop... keep going.. I'm all yours..."

#logan howlet smut #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #wolverine smut #wolverine x f!reader #wolverine x you #god #fuck #sub!character #logan howlett x mutant reader

180 notes · View notes

winxanity-ii · 10 months ago

Text

TOUCH IT

ship: gojo x fem!empath!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v, fingering); overstimulation word count: 7.0k (omg, i forgot to post this; it was originally supposed to be 2-parts but i just let it all stay together 🥹long fic again, i promise kast time jajaja... ) A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to let you know that i'm reposting this from my alt account, lulu-4-u in case you've seen this posted before...

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

The strongest sorcerer to ever live, in all the heavens and the earth, feared by cursed spirits alike, was… bored.

Lounging in his seat, Gojo Satoru let out a low hum, his head tipped back lazily as the council droned on and on about his newest mission.

The weight of the room was thick with tension, but none of it seemed to touch him. His fingers tapped a careless rhythm on the armrest, legs spread out in front of him, exuding a carelessness that bordered on irreverence.

"…growing threat…potentially catastrophic…dangerous sorcerer…" The words buzzed around his head like an annoying fly he had no intention of swatting away.

He exhaled through his nose, continuing his little hum as the head councilman's voice grew more insistent. The man's brows were knitted together, speaking with all the gravity that someone in his position ought to muster.

But it was all white noise to Satoru—at least, until—

"Gojo."

A beat.

"Gojo, this is serious. Pay attention..." The councilman's voice sliced through the monotony, sharp enough to make him lazily shift his head to the side.

Slowly, Satoru turned his head, letting his neck roll as he turned his attention to the source of the command. His eyes, usually hidden behind his shades, seemed to sharpen with the motion, focusing like a hawk about to strike.

Even through the dark lenses, the icy intensity of his gaze bore down on the man. His smile stayed in place—easy, almost playful—but his stare was dead.

Empty.

It was a predator's look, concealed beneath the mask of casual indifference.

A tremor rippled through the room. The councilmen around him shifted in their seats, unease crawling up their spines as they suddenly remembered exactly who they were addressing.

The strongest. The untouchable. The one who smiled but never truly revealed his hand.

"So..." Satoru's voice was deceptively light, a mocking tilt to his words as he spoke. "You want me to take out this 'big bad' or whatever, yeah? Because they're, like, super dangerous and might cause some, I dunno, world-ending chaos?" He let the sentence drag, his smile never faltering, but his eyes remained locked on the councilman like a wolf sizing up its prey. "That about sum it up?"

The councilman, clearly rattled, swallowed hard. His voice faltered as he stammered out a weak, "Y-yes, correct."

Satoru sighed, long and exaggerated, before standing up in one smooth motion. His towering frame unfolded effortlessly, drawing every eye in the room.

Stretching his arms above his head, he dragged a hand through his snowy hair, letting out a groan as though this entire affair was just a mild inconvenience to him. "Alright, alright," he drawled, adjusting his shades as he flashed them another easy grin. "Let's just get this over with."

You were carefully decorating the last of the cupcakes, smoothing the frosting into perfect swirls, when the familiar ding of the bakery bell rang through the back. "Just a minute!" you called out, wiping your hands on the apron tied snugly around your waist.

It was just you on the morning shift today—your coworker had called out last minute, promising to take your afternoon shift so you wouldn't have to pull a double.

Not something you were unfamiliar with, but still, it left you scrambling to deal with the shop alone.

Your fingers were still a little sticky with frosting, and you knew there were probably a few smudges on your face, but you couldn’t keep a customer waiting.

Quickly, you smoothed your apron down, pushing through the swinging door that led to the front of the shop.

As you stepped behind the counter, the first thing you noticed was a figure crouched down, examining the glass display case where rows of colorful cupcakes, cakes, and pastries were lined up neatly.

From your angle, you could only see their side profile—a tall, lean figure, slightly hunched as they squatted low, eyes fixed on the sugary treats.

You scurried behind the register, hastily plastering on your customer service smile. "Hi! How can I help you—?" Your sentence trailed off, the words drying up in your throat as the figure slowly rose to full height, straightening out.

Your hand froze mid-motion as you adjusted your glasses, your face warming with an instant, involuntary blush. Standing before you was quite possibly the most striking person you'd ever seen.

His hair was the first thing to catch your eye—white as freshly fallen snow, a stark contrast against the black suit that clung to his lithe, muscled frame. He wore it effortlessly: black business pants, a sleek turtleneck, and a long jacket draped over his shoulders in a way that screamed confidence.

But it was his eyes that left you breathless. The brightest, most piercing shade of blue you had ever seen, framed by delicate, pale lashes.

They gleamed behind a pair of circular glasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose, as if he’d forgotten they were even there. His head tilted slightly, curiously, like he was taking you in just as you were gawking at him.

There was something both playful and intimidating in the way he smiled—a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes but made your heart race all the same.

Your breath caught, and you fumbled with the edge of your apron, trying desperately to calm the heat that was crawling up your neck. You quickly shook yourself out of your stupor, blinking rapidly as if to reset your brain. "Y-yes! W-we have plenty to choose from," you stammered, forcing your voice to steady itself.

Your heart raced, the thumping in your chest almost deafening as your eyes darted anywhere but at him, unable to hold his gaze for too long without feeling your cheeks heat up all over again. "Is there... um, anything in particular you're looking for?"

The man didn’t respond right away, and you half wondered if he hadn’t noticed your nervousness—or maybe he was just too polite to say anything about it. But the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips said otherwise.

He knew.

Of course he knew.

He hummed thoughtfully, the sound deep and drawn out, leaning casually against the glass display case. His hand came up to prop his head up as he tilted it slightly, his lips forming a small pout. "Hmm... I'm not sure. I'm looking for something... sweet." His voice dipped on the last word as if he wasn't just talking about pastries.

Your breath hitched, and you could feel the flush of embarrassment crawl up your neck again. You scrambled to maintain your composure, glancing down at the cupcakes and cookies like they held the answers to his cryptic request.

From his Satoru's perspective, you barely reached his chest. He couldn't help but notice how tiny you looked in comparison, especially with your hair tied up into a neat, tight bun, a silk scarf wrapped around your head as if to keep stray strands in check.

You wore a baking apron that was thoroughly covered in flour, smudges of icing trailing from your hands to your face, and a couple of spots dabbed on your cheeks.

The glasses perched on your nose kept slipping down, and you pushed them up in a quick, nervous motion every time they fell.

Your wide, inquisitive eyes blinked up at him, and he noted the light freckles dusted across the bridge of your nose.

Cute.

Everything about you—from the shy glances to the nervous fidgeting—made him want to toy with you, just a little.

"Well, if you're looking for sweet, we have a variety of cupcakes that are really popular," you offered, your voice wavering slightly as you gestured towards the rows of neatly frosted confections. "Or, um, cookies... cakes..." Your words trailed off as his gaze lingered on you, and it felt as though the temperature in the room had gone up a few degrees.

He didn't seem particularly interested in the pastries, though. His eyes remained on you, as if you were far more interesting than anything in the display case.

"Hmm, that's tempting," he murmured, his smirk growing just a little wider. His eyes flickered to the cupcakes, but only for a brief moment before they returned to you. "But I think I'm in the mood for something... softer."

Your heart did a somersault at the way he emphasized the last word words, and you couldn't help but wonder just what exactly this man was getting at.

"O-oh, softer?" You fumbled, trying desperately to keep your brain from melting. You forced yourself to focus, tapping your fingers nervously against the counter. "W-we have some cream-filled pastries, if that's more to your taste?" you managed to choke out, trying to keep your voice steady.

Whatever it was, you weren't sure how much longer you could handle it without combusting on the spot.

"Maybe..." He dragged the word out, enjoying the way you squirmed under his attention. "But what would you recommend?" His voice dipped again, lower, almost teasing, like he wasn't just asking about pastries anymore.

"I-I'll just choose something!" you stammered, turning quickly before you could embarrass yourself further.

Your pulse raced as you headed to the back, reaching for the dessert you had made earlier—a strawberry cheesecake, heavily decorated and sweet.

It was indulgent, something you'd crafted for yourself during a quiet moment, filled with all the sugary indulgence you allowed yourself on rare occasions.

You pulled out a small slice, plating it carefully, your fingers trembling slightly as you arranged it perfectly.

When you returned to the counter, you placed a small sample in front of him, offering it with shaky hands. "Here, try this," you said, your voice softer than you’d intended.

He didn't need any further prompting. With a smooth, almost languid motion, he picked up the small fork you offered and took a bite.

You watched as the dessert disappeared into his mouth, his lips curling upward in a satisfied hum. The moment his eyes brightened, a wave of pride hit you. A low, pleased hum escaped him, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine.

He savored it, his gaze flickering back to you with delighted approval, as though the simple dessert had been crafted by the hands of gods.

"This is fantastic," he murmured, the praise making your chest tighten. "Where do you get this from? Who made it?"

You glanced away, feeling your face flush under his stare. "I, um... I made it."

"You did?"

With a small nod, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Y-yes, I made it this morning."

His lips twitched into an amused grin, but this time, his eyes didn’t stay on your face. "Well, that explains why it's so perfect..." His gaze, deliberate and slow, trailed downwards, lingering for a long moment on your chest. It wasn't subtle—he wanted you to notice. You felt the heat creeping up your neck as his eyes lingered on your name tag.

"...____," he read aloud, his voice low and teasing, drawing out each letter. He let the name hang in the air for a moment, before lifting his gaze back to your flushed face.

The intensity of his gaze, combined with the deliberate way he said your name, sent a jolt of awareness through you. You tried to keep your composure, your hands trembled slightly as you packed up the rest of the cheesecake, placing the box on the counter.

"Here you are, Mr...." You trailed off, realizing you didn’t know his name. Your eyes flickered up to meet his again, a silent question hanging in the air.

He caught your hesitation, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Satoru," he said smoothly, the name rolling off his tongue like a secret only he was sharing with you.

You swallowed hard, nodding quickly as you cleared your throat. "R-right. Mr. Satoru." You glanced at the register, trying to refocus as you gave him the total softly.

He blinked in mild surprise, his smirk widening. "That's practically half off from the price on the card," he remarked, amusement evident in his voice.

You could feel your face grow impossibly warmer. "O-oh, um..." Your lips fell into a small pout as you avoided his gaze, your hand twitching up to adjust your glasses again in a nervous habit. "I-it's no big deal. I mean, I like to, uh, give stuff to new customers... in hopes that they return, yeah..."

Your voice trailed off, and you immediately wanted to kick yourself for the weak excuse. But it was too late now. You shrugged your shoulders, trying to act nonchalant, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

Satoru's chuckle made your heart skip a beat. Even his laughter sounded handsome, deep and melodic, sending your pulse racing. "Is that so?" he mused, his voice holding a playful edge. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the cheesecake, and your breath caught in your throat.

"Well, I'll definitely be back... ____."

He winked, and you nearly melted on the spot as he turned toward the door. With a casual wave, he added, "See you soon, Sweets," leaving you standing there, flustered and wide-eyed, barely able to process what had just happened.

The bell above the door rang as he left, and only then did you release the breath you had been holding. You stood there, staring after him, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Sweets?

A few hours later, the warmth of the late afternoon sun filtered through the bakery’s front windows, casting long shadows across the floor as you wiped down the counters.

It had been a relatively quiet shift after he left, though your heart was still recovering from the encounter. As you finished up, the front door swung open with a familiar jingle, and you turned to see your coworker rushing in.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry I'm late!" The boy practically stumbled through the door, one hand frantically adjusting the tie of his high school uniform, the other pushing his hair back in a desperate attempt to look more presentable. "I got caught up in something!"

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his flustered state. Itadori Yuji, always full of energy and apologies, was like a golden retriever in human form—warm, friendly, and almost comically eager to please. His messy pink hair and wide, bright eyes gave him an air of youthful enthusiasm, and his genuine smile could light up a room.

"It's fine, Yuji," you said with a laugh, waving him off as you headed to the back to grab your things. "You're not that late."

He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he finally finished fixing his uniform. "Still, I hate being late. Promise it won't happen again, if it does, I owe you lunch!"

"Deal," you replied, opening your locker and pulling out your bag. As you walked back toward him, you noticed his name tag was crooked, dangling off one pin. With a quick flick of your hand, you reached out to fix it, adjusting it until it sat neatly on his chest.

"There," you said, looking up at him with a soft smile. "Much better." His warm grin mirrored your own as he stood there, slightly flustered but grateful. "Have a good shift, Yuji. Oh, and the manager should be stopping by later to check in on you."

"Thanks!" he said, already grabbing an apron and getting ready to dive into work. "I’ll handle it. You get out of here and enjoy your break!"

You gave him a small wave and turned to leave, but just as you reached the door, you heard him call out behind you. "Y/N!" Yuji's voice was filled with enthusiasm, and you turned to see him waving both hands energetically, grinning from ear to ear. "Goodbye! See you tomorrow!"

You waved back, shaking your head with a fond smile as you stepped outside, the cool afternoon air brushing against your skin.

You allowed yourself to get lost in the rhythm of your steps as you strolled home, your mind wandering as you took in the sights and sounds around you—the rustling of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, and the occasional chatter of people passing by.

It was a rare moment of peace after the hectic shift, a brief escape from the buzz of daily life.

As you rounded the corner, something unexpected caught your eye—a small form, huddled on the edge of the sidewalk.

Your pace slowed as you approached, your brow furrowing in concern.

It was a cat, lying awkwardly on its side, its fur matted and dirty. A quick glance told you it had been hit by something, maybe a car or someone careless.

Normally, you would have continued walking, not wanting to get too involved. But just beyond the cat, two tiny kittens sat mewling helplessly, their cries piercing the quiet air.

Your heart clenched at the sight.

With a soft sigh, you crouched down, inching closer to the injured cat. It hissed at you, its eyes wild with pain and fear, its body tense as it tried to protect its young. But you ignored the warning sounds, reaching out slowly, gently, until your fingers brushed under its chin.

"Hey, it’s okay," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing.

At your touch, the cat stiffened for a moment before going completely lax, its body relaxing against the ground. You stroked it tenderly, watching in quiet as the distended paw began to shift, the bones cracking softly back into place.

You could almost feel the snap of pain yourself, a sharp ache spreading through your own wrist as the cat's injury healed before your eyes.

After a few seconds, the paw was as good as new. The cat stood, shaking itself off, and without a second glance at you, it gathered its kittens and disappeared into the safety of the alleyway.

You remained crouched there for a moment, watching the small family as they vanished from sight, the ache in your wrist growing stronger.

Slowly, you straightened up, flexing your fingers as the pain began to dull. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but it didn't make it any easier to bear.

Feelings.

That's all you'd ever known. Whether you wanted to or not.

All your life, you'd felt things—things you shouldn't be able to feel.

Anger from your neighbors down the hall as they argued about their personal issues, envy from classmates who resented your successes, and worst of all, the fear radiating from your parents as they stood helpless, unable to comfort you through your relentless sobs.

You could feel their confusion, their frustration.

But at the end of it all, they couldn't fix something they couldn't see.

Over time, it grew—your ability to feel. At first, it was just emotions. You could sense a slight shift in someone’s mood, a flicker of sadness or anger, just an inkling of what they were going through. But soon, it became more than that.

You began to feel their thoughts, whispers that echoed faintly in your mind, giving you glimpses of what lay beneath their surface emotions.

And then... it escalated. Suddenly, you could feel everything.

Whatever someone was going through—physically or emotionally—washed over you like a wave. Their pain became your pain. Their joy became your joy. It all found its way to you.

No matter how far you distanced yourself, it clung to you like a shadow.

It was overwhelming, relentless, like you were drowning in the feelings of others with no way to claw your way to the surface.

As the years went by, your condition worsened. What started as a manageable, if confusing, ability turned into a burden too heavy to bear.

The world became unbearable. Every day was agony, the constant onslaught of emotions and sensations from those around you leaving you raw, exhausted, and desperate for relief.

The cacophony of the city—the anger, the fear, the pain—was like a living entity, clawing at your skin, leaving you shaking and fragile.

Your parents were at a loss. They didn't understand what was happening to you, couldn't see the invisible weight pressing down on your soul. They could only watch as you withdrew further, your silence growing more suffocating by the day.

When your father finally made a call to a buddy—a man who had a cousin that owned a small apartment complex on the edge of the city—it was an act of desperation.

They didn't know what else to do.

So, at fifteen, they sent you away. The cousin gave your parents a deal, allowing them to pay for three years of rent upfront for the ‘penthouse’—a small, one-bedroom apartment that was anything but luxurious.

It was decrepit, cheap, and hidden away in an area most people avoided. The walls were stained with years of neglect, the air thick with the smell of dust and mold.

But it was quiet. Isolated.

And for the first time, you were alone with your thoughts.

Alone with the pain.

But that wasn't the only thing you had to deal with. Upon leaving home, you unknowingly stepped into a new world—a world of curses and sorcerers.

It happened by accident, of course. During one of your bad days, when the weight of others' emotions became too much to bear, you found yourself overwhelmed, losing control, but this time was different.

This time, it happened in public.

You don't remember exactly how you ended up on that street, or why you couldn’t move your legs when you wanted to run. All you knew was that your chest was heaving, your heart pounding, and everything was too loud, too bright.

The emotions pouring out of you were anything but silent. They radiated outward like a tidal wave, flooding the space around you. People nearby started to feel it—your pain, your panic.

The air grew heavy with the thick, chaotic energy you couldn't control.

You didn't know it at the time, but there had been sorcerers nearby. They had been in the middle of an exorcism, dealing with a high-grade curse just down the block. But your outburst—your instability—had thrown everything into disarray.

By the time you calmed down, the sorcerers had won their battle, but the damage was done.

You were on their radar.

At first, the solitude was a relief. The absence of people meant an absence of feelings—no more sadness seeping through the walls, no more anger gracing your vision from out of nowhere, no more envy creeping in with every inhale of breath, rattling you to the bone. But as the years passed, the silence became suffocating in a different way.

You found yourself missing the world outside, the life you had once known slipping further and further away. And yet... somehow, you survived.

As the years passed, you learned to cope with your abilities. Instead of rejecting the constant barrage of feelings, you began to embrace them, to accept the pain and emotion as part of you.

It was hard, terrifying even, at first.

There were times when the spasms would hit, your body wracked with the pain of others, and you'd think you were slipping back into the endless agony of your youth. But you learned to shake it off, to focus, and slowly, everything would melt into the background.

Now, at twenty-three, you've managed to regain some semblance of normalcy. You work part-time at a small bakery just a block away from the apartment, a quiet job that doesn't demand too much interaction with people.

And as you've grown more confident in yourself, so too have your powers.

Now, not only can you feel and change others' emotions, but you've learned to take away their pain as well—absorbing it into yourself, inadvertently healing them.

You glanced down at your wrist, the ache in your wrist from earlier was a reminder of that, the subtle way your body absorbs and dissipates pain.

You didn't know when it started exactly, but the more you leaned into your ability, the more you realized how much power you had over others' emotions—and their suffering.

Arriving home, you expected to be a typical Friday night of you sitting comfortably on your worn-out couch, book in hand, ready to lose yourself in another evening of quiet solitude.

But the buzz of your phone said otherwise.

Your best friend, Sumi, didn't give you a second before launching into an excited explanation about some classmates going out to celebrate the end of exam season and begged you to join them. She pointed out how you never went out anymore, and that you'd been practically living as a hermit

You tried to resist, your first instinct to decline and stick to your quiet night in, but Sumi;s persistence wore you down. She had a way of making even the simplest invitation sound like a grand adventure, and after a bit of internal back-and-forth, you finally relented.

After ending the call, you stood up, looking around your small apartment. It had been a while since you'd gone out, and a part of you felt nervous, but another part—one you hadn't acknowledged in some time—was starting to feel a flicker of anticipation.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to step outside your comfort zone for once.

The music was loud, vibrating through the floor and up into your bones as you sat squeezed into a booth, surrounded by people on all sides.

You hadn't expected the party to be this big—Sumi had said it would be a small celebration, but it turned out to be anything but. The entire club was packed, and the crowd seemed to pulse with energy, the lights flashing erratically in rhythm with the heavy bass.

It was... overwhelming, to say the least, and you'd already considered slipping out the back more than once.

But every time you thought about leaving, someone—whether it was Sumi or one of her classmates—would pull you back into the booth, keeping you tethered to the chaos.

After a while, you accepted your fate, sighing softly as you forced yourself to take a sip of the drink in your hand. The alcohol was meant to distract you, to keep your mind from spiraling into overstimulation.

The lights, the smells, the music, the press of bodies around you—it was all too much. But if you focused on the cool burn of the drink sliding down your throat, maybe you could hold yourself together a little longer.

A few drinks later, your muscles loosened, and the tightness in your chest began to melt away. The alcohol took the edge off, softening the sharpness of your senses, and you finally started to feel relaxed.

When Sumi eagerly dragged you onto the dance floor, you didn't resist, allowing yourself to get swept up in the moment.

The music pounded through the air, and soon you were caught in the rhythm. You let yourself get lost in it, swaying with the crowd, Sumi's infectious energy keeping you in the moment.

"You're finally having fun, aren't you?" Sumi laughed, spinning around you, her blonde hair whipping in the flashing lights.

You smiled faintly, your body relaxing into the music. "Yeah, it's... not so bad."

But as the alcohol worked through your system, the familiar buzz started beneath your skin. The sensations around you grew sharper—eagerness, excitement, arousal.

You could feel it all.

As you danced, it became harder to focus, every emotion from the people packed around you began to seep into your mind, their energy flooding your senses.

It was too much, and yet you couldn't seem to pull yourself out of it.

You wanted to scream, to escape, but the crowd held you tight, the sensations enveloping you like a suffocating blanket.

The music blurred with the flashes of emotion that weren't your own. It was like you were taking in everyone's feelings, all at once. A wave of drunken joy hit you, followed by a sharp stab of lust from a couple nearby.

And then, you felt two hands grip your waist from behind, steady and firm, tethering you to the moment.

A more coherent version of yourself might have jumped away from the unknown touch, startled by the sudden intrusion. But instead, you found yourself leaning into it, falling backward into whoever dared wrap you in their embrace.

The sensation of strong arms circling your waist held you in place, and the firmness of the chest against your back was like a solid wall anchoring you amidst the chaos.

You blinked slowly, your mind swimming as you squinted your eyes open. The faint tickle of soft hair brushed against your neck, and you could tell the person behind you was tall—taller than you by far. They had to slouch and bend over slightly to reach your ear.

It was only when you caught a glimpse of white, snowy hair out of the corner of your eye that you froze. A familiar shiver ran down your spine, and the sharp sensation of lust and arousal hit you like a wave, pouring off the figure behind you in an overwhelming rush.

It was intoxicating, and for the first time tonight, you felt your own emotions cut through the fog of everyone else's. Your heart raced, and the heat rising in your cheeks wasn't from the alcohol anymore.

You didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. But any doubt you had vanished when a smooth voice purred into your ear, "Hello, Sweets~"

The words sent a shiver through you, and before you could fully process the situation, you were whisked off the dance floor. One second you were drowning in the crowd, and the next, you were being led—no, practically carried—through the bustling club.

Satoru, with an ease that belied the chaos around him, guided you up the steps to the VIP section, his hand never leaving your waist.

In what felt like no time at all, you were settled in a more secluded booth at the top balcony, away from prying eyes. The noise of the club felt distant here, muted by the heavy drapes surrounding the area.

Satoru moved with purpose, easily sliding into the booth beside you, his presence commanding and all-encompassing.

You glanced at him, your breath catching in your throat as his bright blue eyes locked onto yours. There was a teasing glint in them as he took in your flushed face, a smirk curling at his lips.

Without warning, he cupped your cheek, his large hand warm against your skin, and pinched your face lightly.

"You're a lightweight, huh?" he teased, his tone light but dripping with amusement.

You swatted his hand away with a roll of your eyes, trying to steady yourself. "'m not drunk. 'm tipsy," you muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of control, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

Satoru chuckled, leaning in closer. His arm draped casually over the back of the booth, but the movement subtly caged you in, his broad back shielding you from view. He didn't seem concerned with the world beyond your little corner, his attention entirely on you.

"Tipsy, huh?" he drawled, his voice lowering as he leaned even closer, his breath warm against your ear. "You're definitely something."

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as his finger gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You're a pretty girl, you know that?" His words were soft but carried a weight that made your heart race.

Your mouth went dry as his finger trailed along the edge of your chin before brushing the underside of your lip. The touch was light, teasing, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. His eyes darkened slightly, the pupils dilating as his gaze lingered on your lips, a light flush dusting his own cheeks.

"I could get used to this," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his thumb stroked your bottom lip. "The way you look at me... I wonder how much better it would feel to have you under me."

The suggestiveness of his words hit you like a punch, your entire body flushing with heat.

You could feel the intensity of his desire, the raw lust pouring off him in waves, and for once, you weren't overwhelmed by it. Instead, it mixed with your own growing attraction, the tension between you crackling like static in the air.

Your breath hitched, and though you were flustered, you couldn't deny the pull between you.

Every part of you screamed to push back, to regain control, but the way Satoru's fingers lingered on your skin, the way his eyes drank you in like you were the only person in the world, made it hard to focus on anything but him.

Your mouth moved before your brain could catch up. "I do too..." The words were barely a whisper, slipping out between the pounding of your heart and the electric charge that hummed between you.

That was all it took.

In an instant, Satoru closed the space between you, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that made your head spin. You could feel the desperation in the way he kissed you, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, exploring, tasting. He licked into you with fervor, groaning low in his throat, the sound vibrating through your chest.

It was as if he couldn't get enough, like he was drinking in every little sound you made, savoring it.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his hands were on you—gripping your waist, pulling you closer, and leaving no space between your bodies.

The plush cushions of the sofa gave way beneath you as you felt your back press into them, Satoru already pushing you down. His body hovered over yours, his weight pinning you in place as his hands roamed freely, one sliding up your side, fingers brushing your skin under your shirt.

Every touch sent sparks through your veins, and you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped your lips when his palm finally slid under your skirt, pressing against the warmth of your skin.

His hand moved higher, fingers brushing over your upper thigh as his other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place beneath him. You squirmed under his touch, your body responding to every movement as if on instinct.

The sensation of his fingers ghosting over your skin was enough to drive you crazy, and you arched into his touch, your own hands finding purchase on his shoulders, gripping him tightly as if to anchor yourself to the moment.

Satoru groaned again, this time louder, the sound muffled by the kiss. His body pressed closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, the solid strength of his chest against yours.

It was dizzying—the way he seemed to consume you with every touch, every kiss, as if he was starved for you. His lips left yours for only a second, moving to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"Satoru..." you breathed, barely able to think as his lips found yours again. His hand gripped your thigh, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you deeper, more possessively, like he never wanted to let you go.

Before you could catch your breath, Satoru moved again, flipping you both upright with ease. He pulled you on top of his lap, his hands gripping your waist firmly as he settled you onto him.

You both sat there, panting from the intensity of the makeout session, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you stared down at him.

His eyes were dark, hooded with desire, the usual playfulness in his expression replaced by something more intense. His face was flushed, and a light sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. His hands, strong and confident, kneaded your exposed thighs, your skirt having ridden up from all the movement.

The warmth of his touch against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but feel your mind race as you took in his features—the sharpness of his jaw, the way his pale lashes framed those piercing blue eyes, his lips swollen from kissing.

Satoru licked his lips slowly, and you could feel the heat between you grow as he scooted you even closer on his lap. A shiver ran through you when you felt him hard beneath you, the sensation making your body tingle. He tilted his head to the side, a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched you.

"Hey, Sweets," he purred, his voice low and teasing. "Wanna feel how bad I wanna fuck you?"

If you weren't already lost in the feeling of him against you, you might've recoiled in embarrassment at his bluntness. But instead, your body reacted instinctively, pressing down onto him, sending a jolt of electricity through both of you.

The low groan that escaped his lips, paired with the small jump of his hips in response, had your heart racing even faster.

It was your turn to lick your lips, and you noticed the way Satoru's eyes snapped down to watch, darkening even further as his gaze locked onto your mouth.

You leaned in slightly, your lips hovering near his ear as you whispered, "Only if I get to make you beg for it first."

Satoru's breath hitched, and his eyes flickered with surprise and excitement at your boldness. His grip on your thighs tightened, and his cocky smirk grew wider, clearly pleased with your response. "Oh, Sweets," he murmured, his voice dripping with playful challenge. "I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun tonight."

Satoru wasted no time, his hand sliding between your thighs with practiced ease, his eyes focused solely on your face.

ou could only bite your lip in response as he easily slipped his fingers beneath your underwear, his breath growing heavier with each passing second.

"Shit… you're soaked," he breathed out, voice rough with desire.

You can feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment, heat flooding your body as his touch sent sparks through you. It was almost too easy for him to slip a single finger inside you, sinking in to the knuckle with no resistance.

His thumb began working in small, slow circles, rubbing against your clit, and your hips twitch involuntarily in response. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel your body reacting without thought.

Your hips moved on their own, instinctively jutting forward in small circles, matching the rhythm of his fingers as he skillfully worked you over.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he added another finger, pressing deeper, massaging your walls with a deliberate, teasing pressure.

A sharp, breathy squeak left you when he found your G-spot. "There she goes…" he murmurs with a low moan, his own hips twitching slightly beneath you, as if the sight of your reaction was enough to affect him too.

Before you know it, the tension inside you snapped. You gasp, feeling yourself reach the peak as your body shudders and tightens around his fingers, your mind reeling from the pleasure coursing through you.

While you were still clenching and twitching from your release, Satoru didn't hesitate. He pulled your underwear to the side and swiftly guided you down onto him, bullying his dick into your small hole.

A low hiss escaped his lips, followed by a growl as his entire body tensed beneath you, almost as if he was in pain.

It felt like all the air had been knocked out of you when he bottomed out in one stroke, your hips pressed flush against his. The fullness in your lower stomach was overwhelming, your thighs burning as they settled around his waist.

Your body reacted instinctively, twitching and clenching down as another orgasm washed over you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Satoru groaned, his voice thick and slurred as he lifted you up and down slowly, your whole clenching tight like a vice.

A low moan escaped his lips as he stared up with dazed and half-lidded eyes, as if he were completely drunk off the feel of you. His hands gripped your waist tightly, his head lolling back against the cushion.

You could only cling helplessly to his broad shoulders, your body trembling like a ragdoll as his hips picked up speed, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room with each deep thrust.

You were lost in the feel of him, lost in the way his lust matched yours, the heat between you nearly unbearable.

Satoru's hand found its way to your neck, fingers wrapping around it like a collar as he tilted your head back, exposing the curve of your throat.

You could feel his breath, hot and ragged, as his other hand trailed up slowly, his thumb brushing against your lips before slipping into your mouth.

A moan escaped you, muffled around his digit, your thighs twitching in response to the growing pressure building deep inside you.

Satoru's hips snapped up harder as if he could feel how close you were. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and just as you felt yourself about to tip over, his voice broke through the haze, panting and breathless in your ear.

"Y'know…" he rasped, punctuating each word with a rough thrust, "…I was sent here… to kill you…" His grip tightened on your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he groaned into your ear. "But how… can I get… rid of something… this… perfect?"

His voice was filthy, dripping with lust, and his words came out between gasping breaths. "My perfect… little cock-sleeve…" He smirked against your neck, his voice growing lower and more ragged with each thrust. "… And I'm never letting you go."

You couldn't stop the shudder that ran through you as his words sank in. Just as you tipped over the edge into one last, mind-numbing release, you couldn’t help but wonder what your future held next.

A/N: not me screeching into my pillows while editing like i didnt write this 😭😭

290 notes · View notes