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#me @ myself: talk about your other muses
Just wanna make a quick shout out to the self shippers that:
Don't gush often
Don't talk about their ships often
Are low energy and low spoons in general
We all have our reasons, but that doesn't make your ships any less valid. You have so much love in your heart and your F/Os are very lucky to share that with you!
Pro//shippers please DNI y'all make me very uncomfortable
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erabundus · 10 months
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HAPPY BLOG ANNIVERSARY!
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it's  officially  midnight  here,  which  means  i'm  allowed  to  post  this!  so ...  happy  one  year  anniversary  of  enduring  the  plague  of  avalon  upon  your  dashboards!  alternatively,  thank  you  so  much  for  giving  me  a  place  to  babble  about  my  #1  favorite  comfort  character  who  has  experienced  zero  comfort.  (  i  swear  i  am  being  SO  NORMAL  about  this.  yes i did literally buy  cake  and  party  hats.  )  whether  we  speak  on  the  daily,  you've  just  gotten  here  or  anywhere  in  between,  i  want  to  extend  my  sincerest  gratitude  for  being  on  this  absolutely  wild  ride  of  a  blog  with  me.  there's  been  ups  and  downs,  but  ultimately  i  feel  like  my  passion  for  writing  has  been  ignited  stronger  than  it's  ever  been  before.  i  am  still  always  so  excited  whenever  i  get  the  chance  to  log  on  here  and  create  stories  with  all  of  you  —  and  i  wouldn't  have  that  opportunity  if  it  wasn't  for  this little  corner  of  the  internet  you've  helped  make truly special.
there  are  so  many  of  you  i  feel  lucky  to  have  met.  (  and  so  many  i  would  love  to  get  to  know  better,  too!  )  i  hope  we  can  continue  writing  together  for  many  more  anniversaries  to  come.  and  if  the  day  ever  comes  that  they  finally  pull  the  plug  on  this  cockroach  of  a  hellsite,  i'll  forever remember  this  community  as  the  rpc  that  got me to  laugh  at  petrichor.
have  a  wonderful  day  /  night!  i'm  sharing  the  cake  with  everyone  in  spirit.
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guhamun · 6 months
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SCRIBBLES :blush:
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indigodawns · 1 year
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void-tiger · 1 year
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Well…if there’s one (1) good thing about having a crush, it’s that when I’m (for the moment anyway) not worrying about the other person’s boundaries and terror about whether I’ve stomped on them or not + my own frustration at how slow things are to just communicate verbally and directly instead of constantly dancing around nonverbal reads (that are two-way, I suppose but still no substitute, can still mean just about anything)…
…yeah. I do let myself be selfish. Acknowledge what I want instead of burying it so deeply away from my consciousness to not “take up space” I suppose. Finally give myself some damn permission to fall in love with another person “despite” being ace, and “despite” being chronically ill and struggling with my mental health.
And what is it I want?
To feel cared for. Cherished. By someone here. To wake up and have someone greet me with a gentle embrace mindful of the constant chronic pain especially in the mornings to not accidentally pinch things, but not treating me like glass, either. To be given autonomy instead of having it taken away—to do things together, FUN things, without being made to feel guilty about that “taking away” spoons from chores or “well why won’t you just work a job then!” but also respecting my need to rest periodically or take a longer rest after the fact.
To feel heard. To trust that there’s love enough for us to disagree and feel angry and frustrated and sad around eachother and with eachother without judgement, without the risk that things are forever one disagreement or misunderstanding away from falling apart completely or worse.
And please tease me. Teasing is a love language just as much as communication and encouragement and acts of service and finally being held. It’s verbal play, and I trust you to not bully me.
And…I’ve shown as much as I can, I think. I know you’re trying to mirror at least some of it. And I think I’m reading you correctly, but I wish I understood why you seem so terrified to talk directly to me.
#tiger’s musing#screw it. ‘don’t say i’m in love’ or whatever#and well. it will fade eventually. and I am very practiced at Behaving and keeping my feelings to myself#legit always have to do that the very few times I’m liked someone This Ain’t ‘Just’ Platonic Is It#because…guess what. the other person’s comfort and boundaries matters more to me#and friendships aren’t a ‘consolation prize.’ they’re the Good Shit#it’s…just that much harder when there isn’t that Direct Communication With Frequency for me#…bUT!! if he didn’t like me…why does he keep looking at me Like That?!#…right. hang in there for a few more weeks. I did hand over a script as..#…yeah. wonder if he realized /he’s/ the reason I finally found my nerve to write it the way I want#and for all my current ‘will you just RELAX and TALK to me yET?!’ frustration? he’s my muse for joseph!#I needed to see what a GOOD man even remotely looks like just as much as I needed someone like him#to accidentally or intentionally show interest (look. if ya gripe about wanting to do something. PUBLICALLY#(and it’s within my skills to make it available. guess what. I’m gonna call your bluff#(I’m too much of a writer and actress. if I see Checkov’s Gun I’m firing it!)#…does he realize that I basically told everyone off for pressuring him via social media and semi privately?#that the only reason why I started using facebook again was to get people to leave him alone?#(who knows. but that + him…kinda witnessing just How Bad my mental health is? is…when I think there was a turning point. maybe. probably.)#…I suck at socializing in Initial Stages. so much. it’s so uncomfortable#but…screw it. I’ve learned that I’ll use what power I have to change environments and make opportunities#even when it’s (deeply) uncomfortable for me to do so#…because sometimes you gotta blink first to make someone else feel safe. and hopefully latch onto that#and…yeah. guess I am patient. but also griping the entire time
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whirling-fangs · 10 months
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🚩 Whatever's on your mind bc I can't think of a topic. c':
send me a 🚩 and i'll share my unpopular rpc opinions and hot takes.
[[ It's okay to have favorites. Everyone has favorites. People should understand that sometimes you just have muse for a certain thread/type of threads for a few days and that's completely okay.
But if you ignore certain people for WEEKS all while being active every single day... Just be honest and admit you're not interested. Be honest with them and be honest with yourself. You have to make this into a comfortable place for you first and foremost, but being a decent person is actually super easy. Honesty hurts but it's 100% better than leaving people hanging and waiting and hoping for something that you cannot provide for them. ]]
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@bxtsence said: 1 (sexuality asks)
(sexuality asks - open)
what do you label your muse as, and how do they label themselves? is there a difference, and if so, why?
//thank you for asking this one, because this is one i actually was kinda hoping to talk about, haha!
so, i label salvatore as a polyamorous greyromantic bisexual trans man (i did originally list him as pan, but i think bi vibes a bit more with him specifically as a label, but honestly i'm not really gonna get into all of that right now because to me personally the minutiae doesn't matter too much. point is, he's attracted to all genders.)
sal labels himself, however, as nothing. he doesn't use any labels for himself for the most part, and in fact he barely understands what any queer labels actually mean. i think he'd call himself queer eventually after he comes to accept himself a lot more down the line, and he may even finally actually consider himself transsexual, but until then if you ask him he'll probably say, "what are you, a cop?"
and this is a bit twofold for salvatore in my intentions. for one thing, i love writing a queer character who doesn't know *shit*. i was joking with a friend recently that there's a good chance that salvatore, at least for a time, thought he was the first and only trans man to exist. that's how much he doesn't know shit. like characters who know themselves super well are all fine and dandy, but i think it's interesting to have a character who doesn't know how to put words to his experiences.
and my other thought is that salvatore gets to be the reflection of the part of me that's kinda tired of trying to label every part of my queer experience. to be clear, there is *nothing* wrong with having a lot of labels or microlabels or anything like that. at the end of the day, if the label serves you and your experiences, that's what matters.
but like........ i'm kinda tired, y'all. part of me likes to joke about being a label hoarder and that's fun, but i'm also like. i just kinda wanna be Just Some Guy. my gender is both complicated and simple and so is my orientation, and sal can be like that too. for me personally, it's not really that useful to stress about finding the perfect labels to define me. i'm just a guy! i'm here, i'm queer, and i'm just a guy.
guess what i'm trying to say is. oh he's just like me fr.
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neverendingford · 1 year
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#tag talk#got yet another “you should turn your hobbies into a business!” pitch today#like. sir I get that you think I'm really cool for making my own earrings yeah I'm super cool but still#I do not enjoy making things for other people. I enjoy making things for me. I've tried making things for other people#it's always disappointing for me. they love it. sure. but I always hate what I make. I make art for one person and it's me#I would never sell my crafts because I do not make things I don't want. I make things that are hyper specific to my tastes#I've been asked to recreate things I've made and the spark just isn't there. it's never even close to as good as the first one#I cannot motivate myself to make crafts for other people. I'll teach people how to do the thing. but I can't push myself to make it fo them#anyway would it be cool to have some extra money? sure. is it feasible to expect myself to be able to keep any kind of stock available? no#my art skill is “yeah I got possessed by my muse and churned this out overnight instead of sleeping and now I have it”#but I have to learn to not make things when I feel like I have to. I always hate the outcome.#I just wait until the mood takes me and then I create something that has life in it. I put myself into it and everyone can see that.#I get compliments because they're uniquely me. I can't recreate that on command. it either happens or not#plus I do not want to even think about setting up a new social media account and worrying about timing my work and tracking materials#just... no. I will continue to make things for me because it makes me happy. I do not wish to sell my crafts.#if it's a good craft it's a spark of inspiration. a piece of myself that I keep to remind me of who I am when I forget#anyway. I don't want to turn my hobbies into a side hustle
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saeist · 4 months
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a/n: alternate universe where touya didn't go insane and goes to UA :] dedicated to the loml @saerins cus we're on our touya brainrot + went a little insane with this instead...
"jesus doll, excited now are we?" touya muses, a smirk on his lips as he lets you push him inside your small and cramped bathroom.
rolling your eyes, you motioned him to sit down on the toilet lid while you prepare the shower. making sure the water is just the right temperature or else you might burn touya's head off when you rinse the hairdye off his hair
"is this the part where you remove your shirt and i suck on a titty?" touya says more of a statement rather than a cheeky question. you stop yourself from hitting the boy that has his signature lopsided smirk with the shower head you were currently holding
with an exasperated sigh and a pinch to your nose bridge, you answer him
"just shut up for once, touya. besides, won't your dad kill you if he found out you're dying your hair black? or did you forget that he almost kicked you out of the house when he saw your piercings for the first time?" you raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend who decided at the last minute to dye his hair as a sign of "rebellion against his "uptight, stick far up his ass dad" his words, not yours
"he can manage" touya huffs, scoffing at the memory of his dad yelling at him for acting and starting to look like a good for nothing delinquent or in endeavour's words, a villain. "it's not like it's my duty to keep our image of a "perfect family". if only the rest of the world knew what its like to have endeavor as your deadbeat dad!"
touya and endeavour never really got a long per say.. at least that's what touya tells you whenever he had a shit day training with endeavor. days where he would train with his dad were usually days where he'd opt to spend the night at your dorm. away from all the chaos inside the todoroki estate that he unfortunately refers to as his home
but to touya, at the end of the day, you are his home. his peace, his serenity, his anchor in this world where hell could break loose at any given moment
"don't give me that look, doll" touya sighs, shoulders dropping when he noticed you were staring at him.
"i just don't want to see you hurt all over again. you almost gave me a heart attack that one time when you showed up here unannounced" you pout, letting touya slowly wrap his arms around your waist.
touya’s arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. “i can handle the old man. it’s his problem if he can’t accept me for who i am,” he mutters, resting his forehead against your stomach
"i mean, he already stopped giving a shit when he realized i can't withstand my flames, so who am i to give a shit back after everything he did to me?" touya continues, his grip tightening
you run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the warmth of his presence. “shhh, we already talked about this" you shush him, "all i'm saying is that i just want you to be safe, touya. i can’t stand seeing you hurt,” you whisper, your voice tinged with worry.
he looks up at you, his usual smirk replaced with a rare, sincere expression. “i know, doll. i know." touya presses light kisses on your stomach, "but I have to be true to myself, even if it means pissing off endeavor” he chuckles, the pads of his thumb rubbing circles on your exposed skin
you both stay in that position in silence for a bit. just finding comfort with each other's presence. just the way touya likes it. nice and quiet. a contrast to his daily hellish life back at his own home
that is until touya starts to feel his scalp burn a little
"okay fun time's over, doll. my scalp's startin' to kill me here" touya shudders, slowly unwrapping his arms around you as he reaches for the shower head in your hand.
you stifle in your laughter watching him make a fuss inside your cramped bathroom.
that is until, you remembered that your bathroom tiles were pearly white and if he's rinsing off black hairdye then–
"TOUYA MY TILES!" you let out a screech
"too late, doll" touya pokes his tongue out at you, hair dye getting all over your walls and cold tiles.
you were gonna pay one hefty fine if you don't clean this shit up as soon as possible.
now, touya sits on your bed. drying his freshly dyed jet black hair with a towel and you're not even gonna lie to yourself. he looked a little too good for your liking. touya has always been a looker himself but with this new hairdo.. oh lord
"why are you looking at me like you want to eat me?" touya chuckles, hanging the now stained towel around his neck as he leans back on your bed with his elbows propped. he was giving you bedroom eyes, quite literally and figuratively.
what a tease!
"nothing. just making sure that i'm still talking to touya and not his emo alter ego dabi" you mused, plopping down on your bed next to him.
touya laughs at your comment. eyes turning into crescent moons
“thanks for everything, y/n,” touya says softly, voice full of genuine love and appreciation.
your heart swells at the sight of touya like this. you would move mountains if you could just to see touya– your touya happy.
"i love you, touya" you lean in for a kiss. to which touya happily returns the favor.
"i love you more than life, doll." touya smiles lazily against the kiss, cranking his neck to the side for more access as he deepens the kiss.
moments like these with you is when touya feels like he's on top of the world and he hopes it will forever stay like this cause to touya, he can face anything the world throws at him when he knows you'll be there right by his side
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11cupids-tarot11 · 2 months
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18+ What has your future spouse been dreaming about lately?
   .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚      ˚ .˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ . 
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1 -> 3 ♡
Want a private reading?
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-Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Pile 1- The Hermit, Ten of Wands, Knight of Coins, Ten of Cups, Knight of Coins, and The Sun.
Oracle cards- "Let there be closeness between you, but always give each other space. Love never claims, it simply allows and gives."
"It is important right now to take a step back and spend some time alone. Instead of placing your focus on another, now is the time to give to yourself."
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Okay, so right away I feel lots of sexual energy from your person 🙈 like they're gonna be very sexual towards you and have a high sex drive I feel like. I think they really like your back side, I feel like doggy style is one of their favorite positions lol this person has a few favorites I'm hearing 😀 lmao. This is someone who is going to make you blush a lot, like they're very flirty and physical touch might be their love language. I'm seeing someone who just can't keep their hands to themselves, they're gonna always be holding you, all over your body even while having sex or even if you two are just cuddling on the couch.
This person wants to get you alllll alone lol I just heard "all to myself". You could know this person? This person seems to want to plan a day with just you two lol I heard "gemme a hug" so see, this person wants to hug you as soon as they see you! Lol they're very handsy.
This could be someone you haven't seen in awhile, for some.
They're working on their finances right now! Like just piled in it lol, they want to work really hard to impress you! Take you out on nice fancy dates! They want to wine and dine you. They could dream and fantasize about taking a vacation with you, like disappear on everyone and just get away for awhile with just you two ;) they want to deepen y'all connection I heard within this time, not only sexually but emotionally as well, like real emotional support like a partner would. They want to know everything about you, they're that type. They want to lay in bed all day just listening to you talk. Real sweet energy! Your person might be more of a smooth talker than a dirty talker. I feel like just the way he makes you feel alone will turn you on vs him having to talk to you like some kind of porn star to get you turned on, so you'll probably find this person hot a lot 🤣 like you'll always just want to drag them off somewhere yk? LMAO I'm blushing, I think you're both going to be equally attracted and enamored with the other! Y'all's energy is so sexual together it's too much for me. Like I feel like if they're a freak in the bed you're also a freak in the bed! Y'all will match each other's energy lol cute! You two will be a freaking adorable couple.
I feel like this person fantasizes about the day they can court you basically loll. I never use the word court that is all them 🤣 they really want to show up to you like the Knight of Coins, like someone who is very stable and strong and just good enough for you basically lol. You might be really hot because they really really want to impress you pile 1 lmao!
I think they fantasize about seeing you naked! They can't wait to? They think you have a nice ass lol. I feel like this person is always smirking! Random lol.
Okay so with the Knight of Coins this person wants to dedicate himself to you >< awww so if he has any flaws that you don't like this person will for sure pull himself together! I'm talking about if this person smokes everyday and if you talk to them about it, they'll work so hard to quit for you! I feel like you're this person's muse! Not only that but I feel like this person fantasizes about being committed to you! They might dream about what it's like to be married to you often!
I feel like this person might have a tougher exterior! So this is why this person loves being around you! They can let down their guard and be themselves and they love that! They can be as affectionate as they want and you two never get sick of each other, that's because you two will work hard on balancing everything out in your lives together! Like work and play, you'll manage work and also have time for them! You guys will be able to spend moments away from each other and not miss the other because of how balanced you guys are, but when you see each other you're all lovey dovey once again still! How sweet omg!! 😭
Okay, I hope you guys liked this reading! Talk soon Angelz🪽💕
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
Pile 2- Justice, Ten of Wands, Ace of Swords, Knight of Wands, Ten of Wands, Nine of Cups.
Oracle cards- "Deep in your heart, you already know they answer. Do what feels right."
"Sacred Union- Honor and treasure your relationship, for it is truly sacred."
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Ooo lots of air energy. I feel like your person has facial hair, he's very masculine in bed, he likes it when you ride him in his dreams lol. He really really wants you to ride him 🤣 okay anyways let's read your cards now!
There's something about the hair here lol, for some the masculine has darker hair and the feminine has lighter hair and for others the masculine has lighter hair while the feminine has darker hair. Take it how it resonates!
First card out being Justice and I heard something about an orgasm, your person really wants to see you orgasm I hear. Like they want you riding them on top so they can feel it all over their body when you're done. You're person is really intense like sheesh. This person might be older or maybe more experienced in bed than you are, they'll teach you a lot of things so if you're into being submissive they really want you to be their student!
This person is very horny I feel like, I think they're really touch deprived and have "blue balls" they say? 🤣 You're person is making me laugh and blush like crazy they'll always surprise you with the things they'll say!
This person really likes to channel messages directly to you, they probably talk to you a lot. They'll love talking to you! They're so open about their fantasies with you it's crazy! They'll be very direct for sure, they won't beat around the bush. If they're horny they'll probably just flirt with you very directly and let you know they want to fuck you. This person feels very fresh and original actually, very different energy than I usually channel.
So yeah with the ten of wands I feel like your person is very tired right now and just wants to relax with you! This person fantasizes about more so letting you take the lead to make them feel good in bed, like they might fantasize about coming home to you and you're already in bed waiting to please them and help them relax after a long day at work. I don't think your person lets you take the lead often in bed, just when he really wants to relax! His fantasy 😇
This person fantasizes about you bringing them to a climax! 🤣 Riding them till they come basically. I feel like they self pleasure to this idea a lot too lol. I feel like this is more of a secretive dream of theirs too, like people could view them as a very masculine person in bed so when they let you take control it's because they really trust you with that vulnerable side of theirs. Funny because every card that flipped over in the beginning would hide away in my deck again and I'd have to go fishing to see which cards flipped over 🤣 they're shy about telling you this lol.
I feel like this person can't wait to show off their size to you as well, they think it's impressive! ;)
I feel like this person might fantasize about you two doing it in public places? There's an energy or a situation playing out in my head like two people having sex but very sneaky in unusual places while having to watch your back and keep a lookout lol.
With the Knight of Wands I feel like this is someone you might know already for a few, a specific message for someone that this could be someone you've been intimate with before and after they really wanted to pursue some sort of relationship after! It's like they got addicted to you after having you lol.
This person could fantasize about getting you pregnant? They could have a pregnancy kink I'm getting or might even want to get you pregnant to kind of trap you 😵‍💫 express boundaries please if you're not interested in having kids because this person will literally get you pregnant on purpose lol. I feel like they imagine what it would be like to have a family with you, they really want to see you as the mother of their kids! I think they see you as very nurturing so they think you'd make a good mom rather if you want kids or not.
I hope you enjoyed this reading!! Love youuu 🩷
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
Pile 3- Six of Wands, Eight of Swords, Two of Cups, King of Wands, Queen of Wands, Ten of Pentacles
Oracle cards- "Healing- Imagine yourself and your beloved surrounded by light. Feel your relationship being healed this very moment."
"Manifesting Miracles- Your dream is soon to become reality. Trust your heart and continue to follow its guidance."
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Hi pile 3 😊
So right away I picked up this is someone you could've had a relationship with before and it just didn't work out, I see you missing this person though! Maybe they've recently been on your mind or you've been wanting to reach out to them, but haven't! A specific message for a few.
So I feel like this is a relationship you've been trying to manifest, but I see some difficulties and uncertainty around the relationship and your Oracle cards make me feel like Spirit is saying to keep hope alive about this relationship! I feel like you guys are separated right now for healing purposes, maybe you both have things that you still need to work on within before you can work on the relationship.
With the Eight of Swords I feel like this person really wants to be immersed in you. I feel like this person is big on oral. They fantasize about you two being in a loving and committed relationship, one that's very unproblematic and full of love.
With the Two of Cups I feel like you two will be in union soon, I don't think this is goodbye for you two and I feel like that's the whole purpose of your reading today! Maybe this person fantasizes about coming back into your life, they could even have dreams about texting you and when they wake up they realize they've dreamed it all. I feel like this person tries to actually not think about you lol. These feel more like wishes than daydreams!
I feel like this person prefers to be more dominant in the bedroom lol they like it when you're submissive and give all power to them. They want to make you feel good, I feel like they dream about fucking you and you're just laying there taking it a lot of the time like "dick drunk" lmao.
So yeah I feel like this person is going to really find out what you like, they like bringing your body so much pleasure and I think this person will Intuitively know what you want. They fantasize about you giving them head but also can't wait for the day they can return the favor, I feel like they really want a sexual relationship with you that's very naked and carefree in a way. Like this person will be all up in your business 😭
With the Ten of Pentacles I think this person day dreams about pampering you, they could like to work for your attention/to feel like you're theirs. They might like to buy you lots of things just because you're their girl I'm hearing! You might notice this person buys you gold jewelry a lot or maybe they've already bought you something gold if you know this person.
That's all I'm getting for this pile, I was really hoping for all of the piles to reach the same lengths but I feel like this pile in particular doesn't have much to say 😭
I hope you enjoyed this reading!! Talk soon!!♡
Channeled songs- XO by Enhypen.
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saphronethaleph · 3 months
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He's the Calm One
“Give yourself to the dark side,” Vader advised, as he stalked through the darkened areas of the throne room. “It is the only way you can save your friends. Yes, your thoughts betray you. Your feelings for them are strong. Especially for…”
He paused.
“Your sister,” he said, interested. “So, you have a twin sister. If you will not turn to the Dark Side, then perhaps she will!”
“No!” Luke shouted, springing out of cover, lightsaber held ready.
Vader moved his own blade in a block, then stopped a moment later as he realized Luke wasn’t actually attacking.
“You mustn’t make her turn to the Dark Side,” Luke said, voice laced with urgency.
“I must not?” Vader asked. “That is not up to me-”
“No, father, that’s not what I mean,” Luke replied. “It’s a matter of safety. Personal and… galactic.”
Vader’s expression did not change, because he was wearing a helmet.
“You realize that I have no idea what you are talking about,” he said. “Who is your sister?”
Luke paused.
“Leia,” he said. “You should know that, father. Maybe now you’ll understand.”
Vader’s helmet tilted slightly.
“What?” he asked. “I never felt a thing. Her emotions never betrayed her.”
“She didn’t know,” Luke pointed out. “I didn’t know until you told me.”
“Still…” Vader mused. “The Force can be strange… but you seem insistent on keeping your sister from the Dark Side.”
“You’ve met her, haven’t you?” Luke asked.
Vader paused, giving that due consideration.
“...I suppose she would probably be suited to the Dark Side,” he said. “She would make a good apprentice.”
“You’re not listening,” Luke complained. “She would be a terrible person to have as an apprentice in the Dark Side of the Force, specifically.”
Vader attempted to glare at Luke. “You fail to understand the value of passion to the Dark Side.”
“Why have you stopped fighting?” Palpatine demanded, from the other side of the throne room.
“We are having a moment,” Vader called back. “I am attempting to turn Luke to the Dark Side by using his family members against him.”
“Very well!” Palpatine said. “Continue! That usually works.”
Vader inclined his head, slightly, the only sign of what was probably a frown under his helmet.
“I may need to think about that,” he said, under his hissing breath, then returned his attention to Luke.
Who was gesturing for emphasis.
“Maybe I’m not getting this across properly, Father,” he said. “But perhaps… you sent Han to Jabba the Hutt, didn’t you? You knew him?”
“I do not know Jabba the Hutt, son,” Vader retorted, his voice dark with rage. “I know who Jabba the Hutt is. But I fail to see the relevance.”
“As part of the plan to rescue Han, she got captured,” Luke explained. “Jabba chained her up and made her a dancing girl. The moment I began to fight during the rescue, she cut the lights and strangled him with that very chain.”
He stared into the eyes of Vader’s helmet, unblinking and unbowed. “Do you understand, Father?”
Vader considered that, then nodded, very slightly.
“I begin to see your point,” he said. “Damn.”
“If Leia turned to the Dark Side and was made an apprentice to you or the Emperor, it would be extremely bad for the health of everyone inside this room,” Luke summarized. “And also for the galaxy, more generally, though it would at least be run efficiently.”
“The Emperor has brought order to the galaxy,” Vader said, in a sort of distant voice like he wasn’t fully paying attention to the conversation.
“Have you seen how much he’s spent on pointless superweapons that get blown up by the Rebellion?” Luke shot back.
Vader held up his free hand, and for a moment Luke wondered if his father was about to use the Force… only for it to mean nothing more than a request that Luke be silent for a moment.
“...humour me, son,” Vader said. “What, exactly, is your plan here?”
“With surrendering myself to you?” Luke asked, and got a slight nod. “I hoped to be able to convince you that you’d done something wrong, and that you could realize that there was still good in you. That you were not trapped in the Dark Side, and could – if you truly wished it – return to the side of good.”
He paused. “...I will say, Obi-Wan and Yoda both told me it was impossible.”
“They do that,” Vader said, still sounding distracted. “And my daughter was raised by Bail and Breha, and she ended up… hm.”
“...Father?” Luke asked, after several seconds of silence had elapsed.
“I am just realizing that you are, apparently, Padme’s child of the two of you,” Vader said. “She killed Jabba the Hutt? Really?”
“Really,” Luke agreed. “Since you send Han to Jabba, we came up with a plan.”
He twirled his lightsaber. “First, I gave Jabba the droids C-3P0 and R2-D2, after concealing my lightsaber in R2. Then Leia turned in Chewbacca for the bounty, while disguised as an Ubese, and threatened to set off a bomb. Finally I came in to ask politely for Han’s release, offered Jabba one last opportunity to free us while about to be thrown into the Pit of Carkoon, and when he refused I killed… about half of Jabba’s entourage. Leia got Jabba and the other half when she rigged his sail barge to explode.”
“...this is a new feeling,” Vader said, almost to himself. “This must be paternal pride. Damn.”
“Have you turned him yet?” the Emperor called, waspishly.
“I’m working on it!” Luke called back.
Vader missed a breath, then his respirator worked overtime to recover.
“I still want to turn my daughter to the Dark Side,” he said, once he’d recovered. “But mostly to find out what would happen.”
“Fair,” Luke admitted. “I’m curious as well, but I don’t want to be in the blast radius and I’m fairly sure the entire galaxy would be the blast radius. Even if we were both trained Jedi I’d insist on being the one who came along, because I’d rather see you alive instead of a sort of faint ozone sheen in the air.”
“What is taking you so long, Vader?” Palpatine demanded, stalking over. “By this point, someone in this room should be dead. This delay is entirely tiresome!”
“All right,” Anakin replied, and pushed Palpatine off the bridge.
“...do you think that counts as dark side or not?” he added, glancing at his son. “I’m genuinely not sure, he was a very old man…”
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nebulaafterdark · 1 month
Text
Blood & Cheese
Summary: After the events of Blood and Cheese, Rhaenyra’s daughter returns to King’s Landing in hopes of speaking to her childhood companion. Based off this request.
Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader
18+ ONLY, MDNI
Targcest, mentions of death, loss of virginity
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Y/N and Aegon never had an ordinary relationship. They grew up together, they loved each other, knowing all the while they could not marry.
Aegon is promised to Helaena. He marries her, performs his duty, though he loves her as a sister and nothing more.
Y/N does not wed. Rhaenyra is in no hurry to marry off her only daughter.
Years pass, Y/N visits Aegon and Helaena often. Watching their children grow. Twins named Jaehaera and Jaehaerys.
“He looks like you,” Y/N muses, holding his sweet boy.
Aegon smiles, wistfully. Stroking a hand over the back of his son’s hair as he stares at her. What might our children have looked like? He kisses her cheek, “indeed.”
Y/N and Helaena understand each other well enough. Helaena loves Aegon as a brother and nothing more.
Helaena tells her, “I find myself happiest when you are near, as does he.”
Y/N holds her hand out, hoping the other woman will take it. “I should like to be here more, help with the children.”
“Aemond would wed you.” Helaena says, as if the offer is no more complex than the color of the sky. “He likes you well enough and has no qualms about your feelings for Aegon.”
That was before he killed Lucerys. A distant dream now. Y/N makes her way into the castle as servants hustle about.
“The King and Queen have lost their only son.”
Y/N finds the children’s apartments undetected; unable to believe what she has heard until she sees….one bed instead of two.
The door jostles open and someone steps inside, muttering to themselves. A voice Y/N knows well, she waits, huddled in the corner, until she can be certain they are alone.
“Helaena,” her name is whispered from the shadows, as she paces her children’s chamber.
She’s seen nothing of Aegon since the incident, she has been largely alone. Her mother and husband focus largely on finding the men responsible. Helaena knows it will change nothing. Instead she clutches the throw blanket embroidered for her son.
“Helaena,” the voice sounds, again. Y/N creeps out of the corner. Her eyes wide and haunted.
She isn’t real. She can’t be.
“I am so sorry for what’s happened.”
“You are always sorry.” In visions of her and when she stands before her. “Must be an awful way to live.”
Y/N swallows hard, “it is.”
“You are my brother’s only love…I believe he is yours. He’s often down at the pleasure house…wanting for you. You return to him like this? Now?”
Y/N assures her. “I wish only to see him.”
“I will not begrudge you happiness, nor him. But I’ve no wish to remarry, and I’ll have no more children. You might give him a son.” Helaena says.
“I did not come here to bed him, I came here tell him-”
Helaena’s eyes find Aegon’s. Whatever Y/N came here to do matters little now.
“You,” he sneers, approaching Y/N at a pace that sends Helaena scurrying from the room. “One wasn’t enough for you? You had to come yourself to finish the job?” Aegon takes Y/N’s face in his hands so harshly her jaw aches.
“No,” Y/N shakes her head.
“By raven, you might have contacted me.” His wide, mad eyes search hers.
“I thought it best to see you,” Y/N stammers, “so we might talk about this, the way we always have.”
“What is there to talk about?” Aegon scoffs, “my son is my legacy! My son is heir to the throne!”
“From the depths of my soul, I am sorry.” Y/N tells him.
“I never wanted this, I never wanted to marry Helaena, I never wanted to be King. I wanted to marry you, but I love my children. I wanted this to be peaceful and now it cannot be because your mother has killed my child. My sister is distraught, I am distraught.” Aegon pulls himself away, fighting for composure.
“That is why I’ve come.” Y/N tells him, “my mother did not order this, it was Daemon.”
Aegon runs a hand over his face, “so that fixes everything?”
“It doesn’t,” Y/N admits, “I know that much, but if we could stop this war-”
Aegon laughs, low and menacing. “I do not want to stop this war. I intend to fight it.”
“Aegon,” she breathes.
“Will you stand at my side or against me?”
“I have no wish to stand against you. Especially now, after all you have lost. But I would not know my place here.”
“Your place is with me.” Aegon insists.
“But Alicent-”
“I am the king. She made it so,” Aegon reminds her. “I love my mother, sister, and house. I will not abandon Helaena in this.”
“Of course not,” Y/N nods.
“Still you could…” Aegon moves back toward her, “be my wife. My second wife. Take the burden off Helaena.” He nods, “our children will be spared from acts such as these, when I am asked again to produce a male heir.”
“My love,” she cups his face in her hands, “I will do this for you. But not now, not like this.”
“I need you.” He argues.
Y/N strokes his cheeks, “I am here, the rest will sort.”
His lips are on hers then, in a soul crushing kiss. Pouring all of his sadness, loneliness and regret into it. “I love you.” It is a horrid, awful thing to say, following the death of his child, birthed by another woman.
“I love you too.”
He also mourns what might have been, had their mothers not been so stubborn. He wishes Jaehaerys were hers, it might have spared him. “Come with me.”
Y/N nods, allowing him to lead her down the hall to his rooms. Tearing at her clothes, and then his own, falling back onto the bed, with her beneath him. Panting as she stares up at him.
Aegon spits into his hand, wetting his cock as he does not have the patience for much more.
She means to tell him she’s never lied with a man, to warn him about her maidenhead. But she cannot bring herself to ask him to be gentle. She wants it to hurt…and it does. “Ahh.”
Aegon moves slowly, realizing what he’s done. The blood over his cock as he withdraws, “you were saving yourself?”
“It matters little.”
“It matters to me,” Aegon insists, “I’ve hurt you.”
“I want to do this for you.” She shakes her head, “I want you to split me open and bury your sorrows inside. I want to be yours. Your comfort, your strength.”
“Be my wife.”
“I will.”
“Be truthful with me.”
“I will.”
His strokes are slow and deep, kissing her sweetly as he fucks her perfect little cunt, getting her used to the feeling of fullness. “Does this hurt?”
“Yes,” Y/N admits.
Aegon slips a hand between them, rubbing her pearl in tight circles, “is that any better?”
Y/N gasps, “yes.”
Aegon smiles, “good.”
Y/N weaves her hands into his silver locks. Kissing him, holding him, consuming him. “I love you.”
Aegon groans, “I love you, dearly. I’ve longed for you each day we were apart.”
“Aegon.” She sighs, cunt tense with her impending peak.
“You’ll give me children, won’t you?”
“As many as you’d like.”
“And you will love them?”
“Of course,” Y/N nods.
“My daughter…Jaehaera, will you accept her and treat her as your own?”
Again, Y/N nods.
“Nothing could ever replace my son, but I will survive this, so long as I have you. Our children, Jaehaera, Helaena as well.”
Y/N smiles, “that sounds nice.” The love between Aegon and Helaena is not one she will ever understand. She loves her brother, but she has not bore him children. It would be different, surely.
Aegon lets out a sob as he empties his spend at the mouth of her womb.
Her high comes quick and unexpected, milking Aegon dry and pulsing around him. His cock softens, remaining inside her until he hardens again.
She is sore when morning comes and Aegon bathes her in rose water. Leaving his rooms only long enough to wed before returning to their bed.
Aegon is restless in those early moons, before Y/N’s belly begins to swell with child. She plays with Jaehaera and keeps Helaena company, she writes to her mother when time permits.
Jaehaera giggles loudly as Y/N toys with her doll, walking it towards her. The little girl points to Y/N’s belly.
“Soon.” Y/N tells her, “a little sister or brother for you to play with.”
Jaehaera nods.
Helaena looks to Y/N with a soft smile.
“You know which it is, don’t you?” Y/N can tell by her face.
“Aegon will be pleased,” Helaena says, with finality.
Based off her words, Y/N spends the next months under the impression she’s to have a son. Instead, she bears Aegon a daughter, then two more the following year.
The King does not mind, in fact, he has all but accepted that Jaehaerys would be his only son. Until their fourth child is born, a little boy with silver hair.
“He looks like you,” Y/N says, acknowledging the bittersweet irony of it all.
Aegon nods, with a sad smile, “indeed.”
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illyrianbitch · 2 months
Text
An Education in Malice — Part Seven
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Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel
Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.
Warnings: brief mentions of abuse, beron being a pos, deep self-reflection for both az & reader, a conversation, a confession, and a turning point
Word Count: 5.6k
a/n: this is not properly proofread yet, i couldnt bring myself to read it fully since i was getting self-critical and wouldve never posted
Part Six | Series Masterlist
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
The early morning mist still clung to the open fields as you crossed them. Eris stood alone in the expanse, throwing a ball for his hounds. The movement was fluid and practiced, and you found your mind wandering to memories of decades prior —- memories where Eris stood in the same spot, throwing the same ball at younger pup versions of the dogs. Laney trotted beside you as you approached, her pace quickening as she saw the others.
A brisk chill made you pull your coat tighter, but the fabric did little to ward off the cold. It was always peaceful out here, away from the burdens and bustle of the court itself, and Autumn mornings had a cool air that made you feel real, made your skin feel alive.
Eris’s eyes were already on you as you approached him, eyebrows raising momentarily as you took a stand next to him. You mirrored the action back to him, crossing your arms and pulling them tight against your body. 
“What’s that look for?”
He gave a casual shrug. "Surprised you've spared some time for me in your incredibly busy schedule.”
You scowled. “You’re so dramatic.”
He chuckled, a low sound that seemed to vibrate through the crisp air, and his lips twitched upwards in amusement at your annoyance.  “You’ve been gone a lot.”
Your gaze bounced around his face. He seemed tired— more so than usual, and the freckles on his nose seemed to be less prominent with the lack of color in his skin. You casted an absentminded glance towards the overcast sky before meeting your brother's eyes again. 
“Have I?”
Eris hummed. “You have.”
He pulled at the cuffs of his sleeves.
“I’m surprised you noticed,” you said, “You’ve been really busy too.”
Your answer pulled another raise of his brows. 
“Of course I noticed,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes that matched the amusement in his tone. “It was so quiet here without you terrorizing everyone.”
You rolled your eyes and Eris grinned at his own words, a look of satisfaction rolling through his features as you scowled deeper. 
“You’re not funny,” you said. 
He let out a wistful sigh. “On the contrary, little sister,” he mused, “I’m hilarious.”
You threw him a withering glare and his grin widened. He nudged his shoulder against yours. A few hounds scampered back to him, Flint proudly carrying a small red ball in his slobbering jaws. Laney bounded alongside, followed closely by four hounds.
Eris moved gracefully, bringing his body down into a squat to offer a flat palm to Flint. The ball landed in his hand with a small thud.
"The male you’re sleeping with, do you care for him?"
Eris’s voice was so calm, so casual, that you almost didn’t catch what he’d asked you. He didn’t bother to look at you. 
You took a sharp intake of breath, looking down at him with widened eyes. “What?”
Eris stood up straight as he tossed the ball back into the distance effortlessly. You watched the hounds race after it, Laney's determined strides putting her ahead of the pack as they joined the others in the field. When you looked back at Eris, he was studying you— waiting for your response.
“Well?”
Your heartbeat quickened and you frowned, pulling your arms tighter against your chest. "What are you talking about?"
He raised an eyebrow, casually pulling a small handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hands. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"
You stared at him, feeling a knot of tension tighten in your chest. Your nails dug into your skin through the fabric of your coat. Eris continued, his voice steady. "You've done a great job at covering the scent. But you can't fool me. Don't forget who taught you those tricks."
His eyes were simmering as they met yours again, the amber in them flickering with something guarded— something concerned. You took a steadying breath as you weighed your options. The easiest one was to deny that there was any male at all, to attempt to outplay your brother at the one game he knew best. But it would be foolish to believe that could truly work. Your mind raced again.
The best lies are the ones with truth, Eris always said, you can get away with anything if you approach it right, if you take control of the conversation. 
You let out a breath. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out.”
Truth.
He maintained his heavy gaze. "Is it one of my soldiers?"
You grimaced at his words, letting your face fall into one of slight disgust. "You'd really want to know if I was sleeping with one of your men?"
Take control of the conversation.
The words seem to hit their target as Eris’s lips formed a deep frown. His nose scrunched as he processed the words. He gave you a dismissive hand wave. “Nevermind.”
You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “That’s what I thought.”
A moment of silence passed but Eris’s gaze didn’t leave your face. You forced yourself to look into the distance, to watch the hounds as they chased each other in the grass. 
"You didn't answer me.”
You took a breath. "About what?" 
"Do you care for him?"
The words ran through you in a wave, one entirely too heavy for your liking. 
Months ago, the answer would have been obvious— so obvious that the question itself would’ve seemed like a sick joke. Months ago, it would've been instant. No. You did not care for Azriel. He could've died and you would've celebrated; would’ve laughed at the idea of karma finally finding its way to the family you disliked so heavily. 
But something in you had changed recently, changed in a way that made you hesitate at your answer. 
You and Azriel hadn't slept together in weeks. And even those times had been a physical release, something meaningless yet sickly sweet. Yet, the moments since had become even more intimate—the times you caught yourself joking with him, caught your own lingering gaze on his form. 
You’d gone back for him— and you’d repeated that moment in your head multiple times since, thinking back to that tug you felt in your chest, the strange guilt you felt the minute you’d winnowed away. You’d gone back and fought alongside him, had managed to heal him in a way you'd never been able to do for Eris,  never been able to do even for yourself.
You looked at your brother and let out a sharp breath of air. 
"No. I don’t." 
The words felt forced, strained, and you worried that Eris would see through it entirely— would force you to admit a truth you weren’t sure existed. But he only narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, and then nodded. 
“Good,” he said, “That would only make matters worse.”
There was something in his tone that made you run cold and you turned your body to face him, watching as his eyes shifted impatiently, the action almost nervous. 
“Eris,” you said cautiously, “What is it?”
A flicker of something ran through his face, something that looked awfully like guilt, like sadness. 
“Y/n” he began, but you lifted a hand up, shaking your head at his attempts to soften the conversation, to gently lead into whatever topic had him so bothered.
”Don’t,” you said firmly. “Don’t do that. Don’t use that voice. I’m not a child to be soothed. Tell me.”
Eris sighed. “He’s entertaining the idea of marrying you off to garner more support.” 
A name wasn’t needed as your stomach dropped and your hands fell slack at your sides. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “That’s not true.”
Eris’s shoulders slumped. “It’s why I’ve been so busy. I looked into it. It’s true.”
A strange buzzing sensation began to fill your ears. You shook your head as if to clear it, as if the words Eris would say next could change the ones he had already said.
“No,” you repeated firmer. “Brides are taken at their prime, when they become of age. I’ve been of age for centuries. I- No.”
Eris stepped closer. “He’s seeing it as a way to strengthen inner-court allies, to consolidate power in a more immediate way. Access to our bloodline is an incredible link to influence, any of his men will take the chance.”
Your chest constricted as the words sank in and you felt your hands begin to tremble, felt an unsteady flicker at your fingertips. You met Eris’s gaze, eyes wide, breathing heavy. 
“He’s punishing me.”
Eris swallowed hard and his eyes filled with a deep, unspoken sorrow. He nodded, unable to find the right words. 
”Just give me some time,” Eris finally said, pulling you in by your shoulder. He lowered his head to meet your gaze, his voice falling to a softer, lower tone. “I’ll figure something out, okay? I-I just need some time.”
It seemed as if he was trying to convince himself of his own words too. So you only nodded, looking into the distance once more, eyes tracing the circles the hounds ran around each other.
Even in the open air, in this freedom, they were still pets— still animals that were owned, bred throughout history for a singular purpose. 
You’d never realized how much you had in common until now. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
He stepped out of the bath, feeling as the water trailed down his form and the tension in his muscles eased. The steam swirled around him, briefly shrouding him in a comforting fog, and his shadows followed his movements slowly— leisurely. 
Azriel’s wing was healed now and he thought of you whenever he moved it. He remembered how he had slipped into unconsciousness at your touch, how your focused, almost tender face was the last thing he saw before succumbing to the darkness. He thought of you in the moonlight, thought of how your voice softened as you talked about Lucien. Most of all, he thought about the words he’s said himself, words intended to be an apology—- a compliment, even. And how you’d recoiled at them as if he had injured you gravely.
He dressed slowly, his mind being lured in every direction but ultimately falling back to you. Azriel glanced down at his hands, at the scars that marred his skin. Amongst his burns were scars from battles, from missions, and if he squinted hard enough, he could envision the blood that stained them still, even after the liquid had been washed off. 
Every act he committed was etched into his skin, acts done out of loyalty, out of a need to protect those he loved; a need to be important, to be anything but weak. 
Azriel had felt at sea recently, lost even in his own court. He felt like a failure as he watched Rhysand’s worry about Koschei grow throughout the days. He was a spymaster— a warrior. Yet nothing he did seemed to help. His family was restless, on edge, and he felt a bitter pang as his shadows updated him on their every move. Feyre and Rhys had learned to soothe Nyx at night and Cassian and Nesta had begun planning their mating ceremony—something large, grand, and worth her time. He didn’t even want to think of Elain, to think of her alongside the brother that even Azriel’s shadows had grown to like. 
He was happy for them. At least, he told himself so. But he couldn’t shake his feeling of unease, as if he was on unsettled ground. Beneath it all was a sickening sense of jealousy. Everyone— even Amren— had found a purpose, had even found a love that softened them. Azriel hadn’t. 
Maybe that was why he liked the way he felt when he met with you, liked how it had given him a sense of purpose— even if he disliked what that purpose was for. He felt a clarity now, a focus he hadn’t felt in a long time. 
It seemed like a sick joke from the Mother, to give him a sense of purpose when he was alongside you, to find satisfaction in helping you support Eris, the very male Azriel despised with every fiber of his being. If he had grown to respect you in some form, did that mean he respected Eris, too? 
The thought made him want to vomit. 
It was becoming far too easy for you to cloud his thoughts, to overshadow any duties or obligations he had. Normally he would fight against it, burying himself in work, training, anything to keep his mind occupied. But today, he welcomed it, indulged in the sweet sin of your face in his mind. His shadows drifted around him, whispering in his ears the very things he knew himself. He was beginning to feel seen in a way he hadn’t felt before, by eyes that had seen the same life as him. 
And it terrified him as much as it comforted him. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
You didn’t have time, as it turned out.
Beron had moved into preparations swiftly—faster than you or Eris anticipated. One night he found you, his eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction that had Laney preparing to bear her teeth at him in a snarl— you were grateful he didn’t notice, grateful that she listened to your commands.
”You finally have a purpose to fulfill,” he declared. “I never understood why the Mother cursed me with a daughter as my final kin, but now I understand.”
You’d felt your identity slipping away as soon as he growled those words. In the days since, he forced your mother to tightly pull back your hair each night, to help dress you as a prized calf and parade you at his events for Autumn’s most influential— most cunning—figures. They eyed you with calculating, hungry interest, deciding whether you were suitable for themselves or their sons. 
You sat at a table now, the only female among a sea of men. Your mother was never allowed at events like this, never really seen unless she was forced to cling to your fathers arm like a piece of fine jewelry. The plate of food in front of you was half the size of the portions heaped on the plates of the males surrounding you. If you had the energy, you would’ve found it funny. But you didn’t. 
You felt like a prey in a pack of savage beasts, their eyes raking over you with a hunger that made you feel sick; made you feel dirty, as if you were covered in a grime you could never fully wash off.
Beron leaned over and placed his hand over yours. Instantly, you clenched and straightened, a wave of revulsion washing over you in a tide. His grip tightened and he leaned in further, lips curling into a sickening, warning smile.
”Smile,” he commanded tightly. “No one wants a scowling bride.”
As a warning, a flame flickered on his palm and a searing pain spread across your exposed skin. You felt the burn, sharp and cruel, but you didn’t dare flinch. You met his eyes and held them— held that cold, hardened gaze, the same one you saw when you’d look in the mirror, in your eyes that looked exactly like his. 
This was your defiance of tonight. If anything, you could do this. You could match him.
But your father’s smile widened, seemingly satisfied enough with your compliance, and he leaned back, releasing your hand. The burn throbbed on your skin but you remained still. 
You could feel another gaze on you, distinct from the predatory stares of the other males. This gaze was warm, comforting, like the gentle heat of a fire on a cold night or the familiar embrace of a childhood blanket. 
You didn’t dare look over. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the concern in Eris’s eyes from across the table. It would break you in some way you couldn’t control. With the familiar sense of heat underneath your skin, you sat up straighter, tightened your strained grip around the fork you held, and imagined how it would look in the eyes of every male around you— all but your brother.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
Azriel wasn’t sure why he hurried as much as he did— why his wings seemed to go faster, why his winnowing was almost instant. But here he was, standing in front of the cabin he’d become so familiar with, listening as his shadows told him that you seemed troubled.
It was the job of a lone shadow of his to trail you, to keep an eye on this cabin— on this place, and to alert Azriel if anything was of importance. It was a precautionary measure at the beginning of your little arrangement, a way to keep track of everything going on, to always have something watching you— the most unpredictable factor in his life, the thing he never saw coming. But he wasn’t sure why he’d continued to send that shadow out even after you both had come to a sort of agreement, a sort of truce born of a miniscule understanding. 
Perhaps it was for reasons like this, for your strange appearances in the Spring Court at nearly four in the morning. 
He knew in his gut that something was wrong even before his shadows told him. 
You looked so put together— that was the first thing Azriel noticed.  The dress you wore was entirely too formal, lacking in the usual flare that accompanied your presence; and your hair was tied back tightly, so neatly and simple it seemed constraining. The way you sat on the grass now, before him, almost resembled the stance of a small child looking at the sky in a sorrowful form of prayer, waiting for a star to shoot by for a wish of yours to be placed upon it.
“Why do you always do that?” 
Your voice rang out clear and goosebumps crawled on Azriel’s skin at the sound, a chill making its way through his body. You hadn’t moved, hadn’t bothered looking away from your stare at the sky. Part of him was tempted to remain still, to back further into the darkness that surrounded him. 
“Stare at me afar like a creep?” You added.
Finally, you turned to look at where he stood and Azriel found himself stepping forward, allowing his shadows to disappear around his body. He didn’t offer you an answer, opting to flex his hands— his clammy, tense hands— as he continued to walk forward. You followed his every movement.
“What are you doing here?” 
Azriel’s voice was neutral, monotone. 
You raised your eyebrows. “I could ask you the same thing.”
He frowned at the response. He’d expected something snippier, something more you— he’d grown accustomed to it, to the snark that he’d return easily. He took a moment to think, to rummage through his thoughts like an overly-cluttered junk drawer. 
“Don’t you think this is a bit pathetic,” Azriel said, “Sulking on the dirty grass in the middle of the night?”
His voice was stern. But as much as he’d attempted to ensure it was devoid of emotion, there was a trace of something in his words, a hint of concern. A part of him, one larger than he’d care to admit, was pushing him to be softer, to tell you he was worried, to offer help pick you up. But he refrained. You would push him away the minute you sensed a semblance of pity. This he already knew.
You gave a humorless laugh and there was a strained sense of sorrow that Azriel recognized instantly.  You stood up. “I guess so. You’d know a thing or two about what being pathetic looks like.”
He gritted his teeth and took a steadying breath. His shadows curled around his wrists and he fought with them as they strained to extend further, to slither down his body and towards you. 
There was a tense silence before he spoke again. "I heard Beron is arranging your marriage."
Your head snapped to the side and your eyes met his— the fire in them still visible in the moonlight, but entirely too dull compared to what they’d looked like weeks ago. You took in his form, the straightness of his posture and the tuck of his wings. Even at this hour he was clad in his fighting leathers, poised and deadly like the image of ruin. 
“How do you know that?”
Azriel gave a small, almost nonchalant shrug. “I have spies in every court.”
“Doesn't it defeat the purpose if you tell me?”
“Wouldn't you find them, anyways?
Despite yourself, the corner of your lips twitched upwards. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
You stared at each other for a moment and Azriel’s eyes seemed to soften with an internal conflict. He cocked his head at you and you forced yourself to look away, finding new interest on the ground below you.
“Is that why you’re here?”
When you met his eyes once more, he took a sharp intake of breath. 
“I have nowhere else to go.”
Azriel’s mind reeled again. While he felt stuck in place, forged to the very ground he stood on, his brain threw him into every memory he held of you— back to the first times he’d seen you standing alongside Eris. 
He saw the memories in an entirely different light. Before, Eris had domineered over you, had poised his body in front of you and your mother in a way to assert his dominance as the heir to the throne, to remind those around him that you were both females at the end of the day. But now, Az saw it as what it truly was: protection. A bodily shield similar to that he’d done himself to Morrigan, to Amren, to his High Lady. 
You never came to official meetings, were never seen at political gatherings. There were multiple reasons for this, Azriel had gathered. First and foremost, you were a female. And to Beron, females had no place in politics—- no place in his court beyond eye candy and child bearing. His wife was always there, yes, but she never spoke. Never did so much as lift her hand. Azriel could’ve believed that she was nothing more than a doll, not truly living; not truly alive. He didn’t even know her name beyond her title, Lady of Autumn, a female that belonged to her court; nameless beyond the one thing that established her— her husband. 
And beyond being a female, you were their youngest, their only daughter. You were to be protected, to be molded into the perfect wife, ready to be sold off to the highest— and most powerful— male. He’d never bothered to think about that last fact. He never cared. But as you stood in front of him, he indeed felt bothered, felt unsettled at the idea. 
“I feel bad for the male who will be tied to you for the rest of his life.”
“Because I’m that awful?” You scanned his face, your voice veering between wounded and sardonic. “Here I thought you’d be jealous because he’d get to fuck me for the rest of mine.”
Something flashed in Azriel’s eyes and the shadows on his face grew harsher as he clenched his jaw. But then, for a moment, his eyes seemed to soften, turning from a molten brown to a soft honey. “That’s not what I meant.”
"Then what did you mean?"
He took a deep breath and you could’ve sworn you saw a twitch in his hand, saw it move out slightly before he pulled it back in, as if he wanted to reach out, to place a hand on yours. 
"Ownership doesn't suit you. Any male who thinks he has a claim on you is in for a rude awakening.”
 You looked away. "It's not like I have a choice."
"You always have a choice.”
You met his gaze again, a dry laugh bubbling up. Azriel’s face was serious, sincere, and it made your blood boil with a sense of resentment that felt comical. You could taste it: the bitter feeling in your throat and the burning in your stomach, like something making its way from your esophagus to your mouth.
"Of course you would say that."
Azriel's brow furrowed slightly and his body tensed in response. "What does that mean?”
You shook your head, running your tongue along your teeth before you turned to face him fully, jaw tight, teeth clenched. Azriel wore a sense of self-loathing like second skin. You could smell it on him, could see it in the way he walked, in the way he interacted with those around him. You noticed it from the first time you’d met, watched as he longingly looked at Morrigan, as that self-loathing filled his eyes and dripped into his features. You knew the feeling well, knew how to recognize it. 
And you wanted to laugh at the fact. The male before you hated himself so much because he had room to do so. He was powerful enough to let it fester, was comfortable enough to set aside time for his self-pity. The Night Court, despite how much you hated it, had freedoms that yours would never give you. Rhysand granted his family privileges that they never acknowledged.  You felt the urge to tell Azriel exactly that, to shove a finger into his chest and chastise him for such foolish, childish sentiments.  
But instead, you found yourself asking him a question that took both of you by surprise. 
“Why do you despise me?”
Azriel blinked and his shadows stilled, their movements halting around his body. “What?”
“Tell me,” you said, “Tell me why you hate me.”
Azriel’s eyes hardened. “Eris–”
You cut him off. “I asked why you hated me. Not my brother.”
His mouth tightened and he remained silent, his wings twitching  slightly as if they bore the weight of his thoughts. The shadows that usually danced around him like a protective barrier were now motionless, and you felt a twisting sensation in your gut, a cold, coiling dread.
"You know,” you said, your voice low, a hint of anger lacing your words. "It's not only hate that I have felt for you."
He stiffened. "Then what else?"
"Jealousy," you admitted, the word leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “Bitter, suffocating jealousy. I'm envious of you, Shadowsinger. You have this court that you love, this family that can get away with anything and you don't even acknowledge it.”
You’d always been a jealous person. By the gods, you’d tried your best to get over it. But it was rooted in something deeper than superficial envy— especially when it came to Azriel. 
There was something about the moonlight, about these darkened skies, that made it easier to be honest, something that almost compelled a sense of vulnerability. And as you stared at him, felt his gaze burn into yours, you felt a cold shiver of realization roll throughout your skin. 
“I’ve come to realize that you and I are entirely too similar for my liking. And I am so unbelievably envious that I’m punished for everything you are praised for.”
Azriel stilled, his movements slowing as though your words had struck him with the force of a physical blow. His chest tightened and an urgency wrapped itself around his ribs like a vise, constricting with each breath.
Azriel had always hated you. It was a visceral, almost instinctive reaction that he never fully understood until now. You were a mirror of him—a reflection of the darkness he harbored within himself, the parts of him that he loathed. Your cunning, your ruthlessness, this sense of loyalty that left you desperate, that led you to tearing apart pieces of yourself. All qualities he recognized, all qualities he despised in himself. 
It was easier to hate you than to face the self-loathing that gnawed at him. To acknowledge that you were a product of your environment, just as he was. But as much as he tried to detest you, as much as he tried to push you away, his hatred for you had spilled into desire, something sickly sweet and thick. It ran down his body and even after he’d scrubbed himself clean, even after he’d rid himself of his urges as he took you from behind—- it was still there, coating his skin. He was unable to rid himself of the burning that had settled in his chest, the longing he refused to admit; because that hatred, that desire, had grown into something else, something just as hot, just as all consuming. 
It had turned into admiration. 
His expression softened, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossing his face. "You’re right."
A silence settled between you, thick and heavy. Azriel's gaze wavered, his eyes searching yours as if he were sifting through the layers you held. You felt a flutter in your chest, a vulnerable ache that made you want to recoil and step closer all at once.
You stared at him, at the way his wings perched over him like a dark, protective shroud, at how his shadows seemed to radiate off him in waves. The heat beneath your skin intensified, a simmering fire that burned hotter the longer you looked at him. Your eyes drifted to his wing, to the area that had been torn open the last time you saw him. The scar had healed, but the memory of it was still fresh in your mind. You looked back at his face, at the way he hadn’t dared to look away. 
Azriel's face was hauntingly and devastatingly beautiful, a creature of the night, perfectly in his element under the moonlit sky. Your chest felt tight, as if your ribs were being pulled apart, making it hard to breathe. You couldn’t save Eris. You couldn’t outrun the fate your father had set for you. 
You wanted it all to go away, to forget who you were, where you were.
Without another thought, you threw yourself at Azriel, your lips crashing against his in an angry, heady kiss. The intensity of it was almost violent, something born out of desperation, out of a need to feel something other than the suffocating anger that had taken residence in your heart.
He pulled away for a moment, his brows furrowing as he took in your face. His eyes fell to your lips. You waited for it— for the abandonment of reluctance that had become a routine, for him to stare at you, for that stare to turn hungry, predatory, and for him to surge forward and claim your lips with his. But Azriel didn’t move towards you. He shook his head and took a step back. 
“What is it?” you breathed, your voice trembling, edged with frustration. “Have you suddenly gained morals? Do you not want this?”
He hesitated. “No. Not like this,” Azriel said and you bristled at the words. They weren’t entirely dismissive, but they felt charged with something that left your mouth dry, left it difficult for you to breathe. “I don’t want your anger.”
“What does that mean?”
His eyes flickered, as if trying to blink away the thoughts racing through his mind.
“I don’t know.”
The uncertainty in his voice made your chest feel tighter. An almost embarrassing sensation of exposure washed over you, as if your entire life had led to being denied the one sick pleasure you’d found. 
“Why did you come here?”
“I don’t know,” he repeated, this time firmer, more desperate. His shadows churned around him, dark tendrils of darkness twisting and writhing like a storm gathering strength, charged with an unsettling energy.
It set you on edge. Your fingers twitched, and you clenched your hands into fists to stop their trembling. 
“Well, what do you know?”
Azriel looked at you, a crease in his brows, his expression a mix of pain and relief as he finally responded, his eyes burning. “That you have plagued my mind for weeks.”
"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice teetering between curiosity and a simmering anger. It was a blend of emotions you couldn't quite unravel—whether you sought answers or were simply lashing out. “What do you want?”
He shook his head, attempting to take another step back, growing more furious with himself at the motion. You moved closer, bringing your hand to his arm and he felt the burn of your touch through his leathers. You were a nightmare and he felt desperate to keep you as you pleaded with him, voice rising, fiery in spirit and heart. 
“Tell me what you want, Shadowsinger.”
You weren't sure what came over you, why you suddenly felt desperate for him to tell you what you felt was true, for him to admit it. It felt like you were on the edge of a great precipice, your heart tugging and tightening in your chest all at once, needing him to look at you, growing anxious, angry, even. You wanted his truth, wanted his confession and his sin all in one.
And then you continued, voice suddenly tender, seeking. “Tell me what you want and I can give it to you.”
He willed himself to look at you and his chest rose with his uneven breaths. 
“You,” he managed to breathe, shivering with craving.
Once the admission fell from his mouth, Azriel was done for. “I want you.” 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
As an extra treat, the wonderfully talented @micahssketchbook gifted us with an illustrated version of this confession 🥹
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✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
authors note:
yknow.... if theres one thing ill give these angst fuckers credit for is that they are so honest with each other, like tell me why reader is more honest with az than rhys was with his own wife 😭
anyways everyone thank @writingcroissant as usual for inspiring me (forcing me) to finish this part when i was tempted to delete everything
permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 
@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 
@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg
@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters 
@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot
@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii
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suguru-getos · 10 months
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soft yandere satoru hcs:
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a/n: hey, you guys should know i ship myself with him so there's no way i'd tolerate insane yandere satoru without ki!ling myself :P soooo- here's me making him a soft yan ^^
warnings: yandere behavior, mentions of arranged marriage troupe, stalkingtroupe, angry!sato ofc but he is still normal about it. mentions of fluff because it's satoru duh <33 also, this is one of the softest yandere hcs i've ever written *giggles*
yandere!satoru who saw you the first time in a jujutsu clan party hosted by your parents and how insignificant you truly were. to yourself, you had the best parents ever, they didn't push you into becoming a sorcerer, but to the kamo, zenin, and gojo clan members it was pure bullshit. wastage of proper sorcerer blood.
until yandere satoru met you for the first time and you hung out, the way he conversed was so different from someone who should be the strongest, someone who wields the highest powers in the whole world. someone who's birth shook the shackles of this world alone. he was kind, he sat next to you, non-judgemental even so he was weirdly wearing that damned blindfold.
he talked to you about your life, and about his own. pointing out the subtle and the not so subtle differences between the both of you. asking if you had a boyfriend. it was so subtle how could you think he had any other intention but to be your friend? naive and stupid.
things escalated real quickly when your mother told you that you were supposed to marry satoru gojo, oh my god- the clan head of the gojo clan, the ever so spoiled, esteemed entitled brat. you really couldn't say anything about this, but to hold your guns you decided to contact him. "you knew that this was happening?" you mumbled, watching him stir the coffee in front of you lazily. "of course, gosh you are so lucky little one!" he snickered, though the way he looks at you, it's hard to process what he's truly feeling inside. you are unaware of his stalking, how he knows your colleagues, how they are what they do, what they eat, how they breathe, to whom you are closer to, who likes you- what time do you get up, eat, what snack do you like, ghana roasted coffees over normal ones. though he would not admit to it.
there are a few times he has watched you sleep like a creep, just sitting next to you, just feeling the innate feeling of sharing the same bed as you. how cute you are, he often mumbles to himself. "i could crush you without even trying" as a musing criteria for how naive you are, how cute you are and how absolutely adorable you are. creepy-
to pretend that he is more than willing to let you take things your own way, he lets you plan dates. cute, adorable dates. one of the days you would be doing pottery with him, the other time it's an aquarium date where satoru doesn't know why you're so mesmerised when the real awe is you, the other time it was a planeterium and that's when satoru shows you his abilities for the first time, holding you closer to him like the princess you are and walking on sky, as if it's nothing, amid the full moon night. the other time it's you and him making tiaras in a garden, sometimes he would just randomly pull you closer, kissing your cheek while languishing in a movie together. so cute, so astonishingly cute! maybe marrying him is not a bad idea???
things show you their true form when you were on a date in a high-end restaurant, roof-top and fully booked. he's always been so cute with you, you had opened up and been comfortable enough. until a waiter decided to hit on you, before long- you found him choking on his own blood, despicable sight of him oozing out blood from his eyes, coughing and dying in front of you. "wh- what was that?" when you glance at satoru, he is emphasising the same lazy grin, smirking. "what. go on? smile back!" he muses, and when you're a teary-eyed mess, he presents himself with a carefully painted visage of guilt. "oh no no- baby i'm so sorry- i lost it, you make me lose it! i love you so much please no!"
would not let you have personal space after, forcing your parents to hasten the whole marriage thingy, he thinks you would leave him and that has him acting out of character. though he now knows fear is a powerful tool, even though he does not want to use it on his darling. sometimes he can't help it, especially when you act so fucking adamant and so fucking stubborn!!
"listen, princess, here's what's going to happen. daddy's going to be really cooperative if you come here and give him a hug, daddy does not want to be a meanie to his little girl. you know that right?" by being a 'meanie' he just means getting angry, manhandling you against the wall, seething in rage and bubbling hot with the insecurity of your behavior being the slightest of different.
the thing is satoru really, really loves you. the prospect of being a yandere is more 'dere' in him. however when the yandere shows? that's when you should truly fear the capabilities of this man. satoru hates this but he can sometimes use your triggers against you. don't like being tied up, maybe an empty threat would get you in line, after all, you refuse to listen when he wants to love you!
he's going to make sure your engagement ring has a location curse imbued into it, he wants to know 24x7 where his baby is. one time you lied to him that you are at work when you were actually in a colleague's party, you were greeted by the whole party avenue being destroyed to shreds, people bruised and only you knew it was your now husband, because he texted. 'infinity protects you princess, not others. next time think twice about lying to daddy.'
his behavior can get hot and cold instantly, one moment he is the most adorable man-child, loving you, playing with you... until he's ticked off and the real, no-nonsense monster comes out to meet you. a scathing frown with glowy eyes as he reminds you that you belong to the 'strongest'.
there are times he does use sex as a weapon, a weapon to make you give in. he is just so good at it, he is going to spoil you senseless, kissing every square inch of your body, worshipping you, crying with you when he mumbles apologies for being angry and mean at you, for scaring you, you don't deserve it, such a pretty baby, oh you take him so well. he was made for you, you are the strongest because you have him wrapped around your pinkie... only to show you the rage and insecurity and all of it when you come home late.
the only positivity you have, is he would rather kill himself than hurt you. that brings you peace, that brings a sense of stability and sensibility into you to hang onto the rope of your relationship a bit longer, clutching onto the fleeting hope of him changing...
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sargeant-bxrnes · 10 months
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the bet
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—✮ summary: gojo and you make a bet. gojo assures he’ll be able to resist a whole month without sex, and you bet on the fact that he won’t be able to resist. may no nut november begin.
pairings: gojo x f!reader [established relationship]
contents & warnings: slight exhibitionism (consented shower peeking), teasing, explicit descriptions of female anatomy. | SMUT unprotected sex (don’t do this!), dirty talk, praise, sofa sex.
wc: 4.2k
my masterlist! | requests are OPEN!
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"Who do you take me for?" Gojo questioned with a half dramatic, half genuine gasp, as his pale hand met his chest, feigning hurt.
"Oh, come on!" You can't help but giggle at his dramatics. "the only reason why you don't try to keep up with NNN is because your horny ass would NOT survive."
"I-" He shut his mouth, to open again a few seconds later. "for your information, I think No Nut November is stupid. Why would I restrain myself for a month just for funsies? That's why I don't do it. If I didn't find the idea stupid, I would definitely survive. Mhm."
"...Right." You nod your head softly, trying to hide an amused smile and narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend. "Absolutely, you can resist a whole month without an orgasm, completely feasible."
"You don't believe me, do you, baby?"
"Absolutely not."
"Alright, alright," he said, repositioning himself on the bed, leaning on his elbow as he draped his body across the bed, showing how 'relaxed' he was. "let's make a bet, then."
"A bet with the infamous Gojo?" You muse, also leaning down on the bed. "do tell, handsome."
"I bet that I can survive No Nut November," he said firmly, a confident smirk on his lips. "and by the looks of it, your bet will be on me, absolutely failing this dumbassery."
"Oh, sounds about right," you nod. "deal. What's in it for the winner?"
"That'll be decided when the bet's over," He says confidently. "at the end of November, when I win, of course."
"You're so confident about this, it's so cute.".
"Aw, and you're so confident you'll make me lose, it's adorable." He cooed back.
And with that, it was game on.
i.
The first few days, you acted like normal, making sure to keep behaving like every other day. Gojo was doing just fine; sure, some kisses prolonged more than usual, but he was so determined to win that he forced himself to pull back before it turned into a make-out session.
By the time November 10 came around, Gojo had only been close to losing once, but other than that, he was showing impressive restraint—by avoiding long cuddle sessions or kissing for long periods of time—which could be counted as cheating since those things you used to do normally.
So, you decided to twist the rules a little bit too.
Knowing Gojo's schedule like the back of your hand, you waited the entire day to get in the shower, purposefully choosing to get under the warm stream around 10 minutes before he got home—you left the bathroom door ajar, also on purpose. You knew Satoru is nosy by nature, and he wouldn't resist taking a peek.
Like a damn Pavlovian effect, as soon as Gojo got home and heard the shower, he instinctively made his way to the bedroom, noticing the ajar bathroom door. He knew he shouldn't, not because you'd be uncomfortable—you two had been together long enough for nudity to not be an issue—but because he knew that as soon as he saw you naked, his hormones would act up.
But what kind of boyfriend would he be if he refused to delve into such a beautiful sight?
He walked closer to the ajar door and took a small peek at first. The first thing he saw was steam from the shower's temperature, but that wasn't much of an impediment for him to concentrate on what he wanted. Gojo's eyes quickly found your figure amidst all the steam. There you were, standing behind the glass door of the shower, in all your beautiful glory.
The water was cascading over you in a waterfall, covering your entire figure. You had your back to him, so he couldn't see your face, but he knew you were enjoying the bath, judging by your relaxed shoulders.
Satoru lost all decency and let his eyes travel down your body, your hair, your shoulders, and your beautiful back, which he loved to caress with his hands. His eyes went lower and lower, and he felt his body getting hot under the collar.
His eyes focused on your glistening ass... He swore he could see water droplets bouncing off that beautiful thing. It looked so damn delicious, it made him want to-
He forced his eyes to look somewhere else. Where? Your hair. He smiled as he saw how meticulous you were when washing it—so cute and adorable. And for a second, he regained control. However, you turned around a few inches to the right, and now your breasts were visible to him. His jaw dropped as he saw the water stream softly hitting your breasts, water droplets sliding down the valley he adored to kiss, oh... the way they followed a path to your little hardened nipples and—
His cock twitched.
Gojo closed his eyes and bit his tongue to contain a grunt. If he looked at you for one more second, he would strip and join you in the shower, and in no time, he would have you with your legs spread, bent over with your hands splayed against the wall as he drilled into your cunt.
Gojo cleared his throat and made his way out of the room, discreetly tugging the crotch of his pants so they wouldn't be so snug against his hard cock. He made his way to the kitchen and set about preparing some food to share with you, who’s showering with warm water touching your soft, naked body—fuck. Fuck. Gojo was losing it already.
While you hadn't seen his struggles, you knew him far too well to know his composure had started to crumble. You knew you were one step closer to winning this bet. Because, despite how proudly he claimed to be able to, Gojo Satoru will not be able to survive a whole month without nutting.
You let the teasing rest for a few days, making him believe you'd stopped. It was a calculated gesture. Sure, the shower peek could've been an innocent accident; maybe you hadn't meant to leave the door open, or maybe you didn't think he'd get home from work before you got out of the shower. Right.
ii.
5 days later, you played another one of your little teasing schemes.
Gojo was already lying down on the bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone, watching short clips of kikufuku mocha recipes, his absolute favourite dish. (Right after your pussy.)
You opened the bathroom door after doing your routine of handling your hair and applying cream all over your body and face. You walked out, turned off the bathroom lights, and made your way to the bed.
Gojo's eyes instinctively rose up to see you walk up to the bed, and then he turned back to his phone, but—hold up. Gojo did a double take, eyes travelling all over your frame, quickly noticing you seemed to be wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of his, which was sliding down your bare shoulder, the hem of it covering half of your thigh.
He gulped down to regain control of himself and opened the covers for you to slide right beside him, as always. You got under the warm covers and scooted close to him, your warm body fitting perfectly next to his tall one. Gojo dropped the covers and let his arm wrap around your body, his hand falling on your back. He softly caressed it both as an affectionate gesture and as a way to try and find your sleeping bra wings or the clasp, but all he felt under the palm of his hand was the fabric of the t-shirt and your soft skin. No bra.
He could work with that, absolutely. Yeah.
As every night, you cuddled up to him, your head on his chest and your arm draped over his torso as your fingertips softly caressed his sides, gliding up and down soothingly. Your leg, as always, also draped over him, falling comfortably between his legs. Gojo's arm held you tight and safely nestled against him, as he did all he could to avoid letting his hand wander down.
You got comfortable, making an inhuman effort to not smirk a little. It was hard to tell if he'd noticed or not, but the only piece of clothing you were currently wearing was his old shirt, nothing else—no panties, no bra.
At first, he didn't notice. But oh.
Not only could he feel your soft breasts against his chest through the thin fabric of the shirt, your hard nipples pressed against him. No, no. He also became hyper-aware of how warm your body was and the way it curved so beautifully and naturally. His hand moved in small circles down the small of your back, where, if he splayed his hand, he would be able to feel the waistband of your... Nope. There's no waistband.
You're naked, wearing nothing but his old t-shirt, the one he gave you after you two fucked for the first time in your newly shared apartment. That day, you two had been moving furniture and boxes around, and it ended up with him fucking you on the floor like two dogs in heat. He remembers giving it to you so you could cover up your body when the neighbors knocked on the door to welcome you both, and it has been your shirt ever since.
And knowing you're wearing it and nothing under it, just like that day... his cock twitched inside his pijama pants. He felt it, and so did you.
You couldn't help but smirk. Would this be the moment when he gave in?
"I uh-fuck..." Gojo rambled as his grip on your body tightened. "I'll turn off the lights now; I'm—yeah, it's late; it's time to sleep, baby."
"Hm yeah?" You cooed playfully as his free arm stretched to turn off the bedside lamp.
"Yeah," he assured, sucking in a breath as you cuddled up even closer to him. "g-good night, gorgeous."
"Aw, where's my good-night kiss?" You playfully teased him, pouting in the darkness.
Gojo let out the smallest little whimper before his hand blindly found your jaw, cupping it as he tilted your head up. His lips found yours in a short kiss, no short of desperation, before he pulled away and laid his head back on the pillow, clearing his throat to act casual, like nothing had happened, as if you couldn't feel the bulge in his PJ pants.
"You know, baby, you could just... give in and lose the bet." You offered softly, stopping the teasing to be genuine for a couple of seconds before dropping an absolutely filthy comment. "I'd definitely suck your cock then, y'know? For your effort. I'd even do a sloppy, as you like it."
"Fuck-" He hissed as his cock twitched again. "Shh, shut your pretty mouth, shush. Stop. G'night, sleep time. Love you."
Knowing when to stop, you stopped for the night, kissing his cheek softly before mumbling good night, and I love you back, and closing your eyes.
iii.
The very next day, you continued your teasing. The previous night he had almost lost his composure, and you weren't about to stop, not now.
After having a nice meal during his break, Gojo and you had decided to get some ice cream, since the weather was quite hot that day.
Unbelievably so, you had nothing but pure intentions at first.
You both sat at one of the tables at the back of the establishment, since Gojo preferred to eat at peace. While you were eating ice cream, Gojo was talking to you about one of the missions he had coming up, and you were listening to him attentively, letting him talk your ear off, to be honest, you loved the sound of his voice, so listening to him wasn't a bother.
It wasn't until he stopped mid-sentence while you licked your ice cream cone that you came up with your idea. Unbeknownst to him, Satoru had handed himself on a silver plate to you when he did that.
You nodded your head as he kept talking, genuinely listening to him talk while uttering the occasional 'mhm' and 'yeah?' to keep him talking. But on the other hand? You were teasing him. You licked your ice cream 'innocently' letting the cold treat coat your tongue before flicking it, and whenever a drop of ice cream slid down to the cone, you would lick it slowly, keeping eye contact with Gojo.
It didn't take more than 3 minutes for Satoru to start feeling his blood flowing south, you looked so innocent, like a good girlfriend, listening to him — But Gojo knew perfectly well what you were doing, the way you savored the ice cream, the way you licked the cone specifically... all Gojo could think about was how it felt when you did that on his cock, licking the drops of precum that slid down his length. 
"So I was thinking of asking..." He trailed off as he saw you wrap your lips around the tip of the ice cream, the way the creamy goodness coated your lips, how your cheeks hollowed ever so subtly to let the ice cream melt in the warmth of your mouth.
"Yeah?" You asked innocently, removing your mouth from the ice cream and licking your lips clean.
"Of asking Nanami, you know? He's..." Gojo's eyes followed the drops of ice cream that now melted on your fingers, as it had began to drip down after you left it unattended.  "he may not be the most cheerful but he-"
You licked the ice cream off your fingers as Gojo kept talking, keeping eye contact with him as you genuinely listened to him, but once again, he stopped mid-sentence, his throat going dry and his pants definitely getting tighter.
"What?" You dared ask, knowing exactly what was going on.
"Oh, you-" he took a sharp inhale, he knew what you were doing, and as much as his cock was screaming at him to grow up and accept the defeat so he could sink in your tight pussy, Gojo wouldn't budge. "never mind, as I was saying, Nanami is the man for the job."
"Mhm, I'm sure he is." You mused, going back to eating your ice cream.
However, before you could continue licking it, Gojo snatched the cone from you and stuffed the remaining ice cream into his mouth, he hissed, eyes immediately narrowing and his features scrunching up from the icy sensation, and with a grimace he swallowed the ice cream in one gulp.
"No more ice cream for you, you're a danger to my cock."
iv.
After that direct tease, you decided to act normal for several days, perhaps your boyfriend did have the will to fulfill No Nut November after all.  
After a long day, you both found yourselves on the couch in your living room, watching a movie on TV. As it had become customary throughout your relationship with Satoru, you ended up cuddling with him.
You found yourself comfortably nestled on Gojo's lap. Your soft body pressed against his hard muscles, sending a pleasant tingle through your body. To be fair, you didn't intend to tease him or tempt him this time around; you just wanted some quality couch-time with your boyfriend.
However, as the movie progressed and your bodies grew more intimate due to their close proximity, something unexpected happened - a familiar stirring within Gojo began to rise up. It started small at first but quickly became impossible to ignore any longer.
"Fuck," muttered Gojo under his breath, trying desperately not to give into his urges. But it was clear that he wasn't going to make it without giving in soon enough.
"You okay?" You asked him softly, looking up at him from your comfortable position.
This time, no comment came from him, only actions. Gojo leant down to kiss you, and as soon as you reciprocated the kiss with the same intensity, he knew you wanted him as badly as he wanted you— you weren't insisting on him losing NNN just to gloat, no, no, you were needy, too, and it showed in the way you nearly ripped his shirt off his body.
Not wanting to pull his lips away from yours, Gojo's hands moved all over your body they stopped at your breast swiftly, his hands groping the soft globes in the least gentlemanly way, before moving his hands lower and lower.
Without warning or hesitation, Gojo swiftly hooked his fingers on the waistband of your shorts and panties at once, pulling them down your legs. You helped by raising your hips off his lap– soon your clothes were discarded  somewhere out of sight. Satoru finally pulled back from your lips and grabbed a hold of his sweatpants, pulling the waistband low enough for his throbbing cock to be freed, it immediately sprang out, slapping against his pale abs, his tip was reddened by arousal, a few drops of precum were already accumulating at the tip.
And just as you were about to lean down to take his cock down your throat and give him the sloppy blowjob you promised, he took a hold of your hips and pulled you closer to him, nudging your leg up so you would straddle him. You quickly understood what he wanted and straddled him, hovering right over his cock– you were already so wet a few drops of your arousal dripped down to his tip, and he swore he could've busted right there.
He looked at you to confirm everything was okay, and as soon as you nodded, he slowly pulled you down on his cock, his tip nudging its way inside, slowly being sucked in by your cunt.
"F-fuck, fuck, you're so tight." He nearly hissed, feeling the way your tight entrance slowly stretched to allow his cock in– it didn't matter how many times you two fucked, you were as tight as ever. "Oh my– fuck."
As soon as he felt your soft wetness envelop his cockhead, Gojo thrusted his hips forward into your waiting pussy. Your tight walls gripped him like velvet vice as he plunged deeper, and deeper. Gojo couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips as he felt you clamping down around his dick, as if your cunt wanted to keep it forever inside.
You whimpered in delight, your hand finding the back of his head, fingers tangling in his white hair as you bit your lip. "You feel so damn good baby, so big..."
Once he was fully sheathed, his lips returned to yours to kiss you desperately as he gave you time to adjust to his length, his thumb found your clit blindly, and he began to stroke it in small circles, making your soft walls tighten around his cock, enveloping his cock in your warmth. 
Eventually, you began to ride him, your hand finding his chest as you began to move back and forth, lifting and lowering your hips with each movement, the sound of your thighs making contact with his, plus the squelching sound each time your greedy cunt sucked him in was definitely erotic— not to mention the sounds escaping from Satoru's mouth, you forced yourself to swallow your own moans to hear his, the way he moaned, grunted and even whimpered.
"Jus' like that baby, so, so good," he praised, his eyes threatening to roll back at the feeling of your warm walls around his shaft. "there we go, you're doing so good f'me, fuck– god damn, baby. Missed this pretty little thing so much."
Gojo's hands were holding your hips so tightly that they would probably leave marks, but you didn't care, the way he was moving your body with such ease, it was incredibly attractive, he was fucking you roughly, but needy, it was obvious he needed this, and by the way he was also lifting his hips to push his cock even deeper inside you, it was obvious.
"T-Toru," you moaned after a particular thrust of his, one of his cock veins had grazed against your g-spot so perfectly it felt like heaven– you tilted your hips and tried to replay the feeling as you bounced on his lap.
His cock was hitting in all the right places, and by that point you were chasing your orgasm, however, your plans were quickly interrupted when, with a grunt, Gojo wrapped his arms around you and pushed you down on the sofa.
He pulled his cock out a little to accommodate your leg, throwing it over his shoulder and leaning his body forward, exposing your pussy to him, his eyes watched hungrily as he thrust inside you again, your juices pooling in a translucent circle at the base of his cock. You couldn't help the moan of surprise and utter pleasure that left your lips as Gojo began to thrust, his hips moving with precision, rising a little to get a better angle, his cock grinding its way inside your tight cunt, its tip possibly touching your cervix.
"There we go, hm? So fuckin' good, your pussy is so fucking good f'me," he rambles, clearly too pussydrunk to stop the endless rambling. "oh god, you missed having your tight little cunt filled with my cock, didn't you? Hm, I can feel it baby, you're squeezin' me so tight."
With one hand braced against the couch armrest for leverage, Gojo began powering up into your body at a pace that left no room for hesitation or mercy. It wasn't long before sweat dripped down from his brow.
One hand kept holding your hips to keep you in place so your body wouldn't slide up with each thrust, the sound of his skin against yours was obscene, and you would be embarrassed by the wet sound of your pussy, but that seemed to please Gojo judging by the way he alternated his gaze between your face and your cunt.
Your back arched off the couch as he began to hit all the right spots, and upon seeing that, Gojo couldn't help himself, he leant down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, his warm tongue swirling around the hardened bud before his lips sucked it gently— you squirmed in utter pleasure at the dual pleasure, but you nearly lost your composure when his hand left your hip and slid between your legs, finding your little clit and began circling it quickly.
"F-fuck, 'Toru, baby w- I– hmm," you couldn't even speak clearly, your eyes rolling back as he kept sucking your nipples, rubbing your clit and plunging deep inside your pussy, god bless his multitasking abilities.
At a sudden wave of pleasure, your legs threatened to close, but Gojo would not allow that. His hand left the couch armrest and came to hold the leg over his shoulder in place, he used the leverage and knelt down on the sofa, lifting your hips up slightly to keep fucking deep into you, his thumb still assaulting your clit relentlessly.
"Gojo I'm gonna– please, j-just like that." You managed to say clearly, as you felt his cock twitching intensely inside you, you could notice the telltale signs, his twitching cock, the way his eyes were glazing over and his thrusts got relentless– he was close.
"I know, I know," he coos in a rasp, his breath heavy as he keeps going. "that's it, that's it, cum for me pretty girl, yeah? Cum for me, gorgeous. You've been so good for me, let go baby."
As soon as that praise fell from his lips, combined with all the pleasure and stimulation he was giving you, you were a goner. Your cunt squeezed tight around his cock, milking it for all it was worth as a moan of his name left your lips, your whole body tensed and clenched in response to the overwhelming orgasm.
Now, Gojo is a simple man. The moment your pussy squeezed him so deliciously tight, he lost control of himself, he immediately followed your orgasm, his cock spurting ropes of white warmness that coated your insides.
His body felt nearly limp on top of yours, his cock still nestled inside your warm walls, his sweaty forehead meeting the clammy skin of your shoulder as he took deep breaths, pressing a kiss against your soft skin, he relaxed as he felt your fingers threading his messy hair.
"NNN was stupid anyway," he mumbled against your skin, making you giggle as you remembered that he'd lost the bet. "your pussy's too good for me to give up, even for a month."
You chuckled soflty, kissing his sweaty forehead. "I can't decide if I should feel flattered or offended."
"It was definitely a compliment," he assured playfully, nipping on your shoulder as he rose his body up, softly patting your thigh as he pulled out of you, a mix of his cum and yours dribbling out of your tight hole. "now, get on all fours f'me, princess, I'm not done with you yet."
"Oh?" You teased him, completely up for another round.
"Gonna make you cum as many times as you teased me this month," He promised as he took a hold of your hips and flipped you over, your body acting by muscle memory as you got on your hands and knees, face pressed against the sweaty material of the couch. “and believe me, I kept count.”
And just like that, you felt his cock slide back home.
It was going to be a long night.
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hoshifighting · 1 month
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lee chan as your sugar baby!
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— WARNINGS: sugar mommy x sugar baby relationship, smut, cock riding, overstimulation, oral (m. receiving). — (Seventeen as Sugar Baby's Series)
chan's fingers hovered over the keyboard, the couch under him squeaking as his friends shifted closer, eyes glued to his screen. the profile had been a joke, a dare born out of a boredom and too many beers. his bio was something ridiculous, like “lee chan, 25. likes dancing, long walks to the fridge, and avoiding adult responsibilities.” he doesn’t think much of it, just another one of those dumb things you do with friends that you forget about the next morning.
so when that notification popped up, he’d been fully ready to shrug it off.
“oh shit, someone actually bit,” seungkwan snorted, elbowing him in the ribs.
“no way,” vernon leaned in closer, practically draping himself over chan’s shoulder. “what, is it a granny looking for a toyboy?”
chan was already smirking, about to type back something half-assed, but then he clicked on the profile.
silence.
“bro…” was all soonyoung managed, voice dropping to something almost reverent.
you stared back at him from the screen, the photo set in dubai. expensive-ass bikini that screamed designer without being obnoxious about it, a pool so clear it could’ve been a goddamn mirror. every photo after that, some crazy tourist spot, one after the other. greece, italy, fucking bali. you were clearly someone who had their shit together, someone who probably had the same watch collection as his entire paycheck for the last year.
chan’s still staring at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. he’s never seen anything like this before. you look like money, smell like money, like that fancy, understated kind of wealth that doesn’t need to brag.
“are you gonna reply or just keep ogling?” seungkwan’s voice snapped him out of it.
he glanced at the message again. just a simple “hi” but now another one had popped up.
“she’s typing again,” someone whispers, and chan snaps out of it, eyes darting back to the chat window.
“you’re real cute in that profile pic,” it read, followed by a winking emoji.
“well, fuck me,” chan muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “what the hell do i even say to that?”
“anything but something stupid,” vernon quipped, nudging him.
chan bites his lip, glancing at his friends who are all staring at him like this is the most important conversation of his life. and maybe it kinda is.
his fingers hovered again. you were out of his league in every way that mattered, but here you were, talking to him. and what was he? just some dude who loved dance and cheap beer. but fuck it. he wasn’t about to let that stop him.
“hii! you know, you look even better than all those tourist spots. might have to see for myself sometime...”
“oh my god, dude,” vernon whispered, trying not to laugh too loudly.
“he’s going in!” seungkwan half-yelled, covering his mouth in shock.
chan hit send and immediately regretted it, cheeks burning. “what? too much?”
“nah, man, that’s bold,” soonyoung said, barely containing his grin. “you might’ve just scored.”
seconds felt like hours, everyone staring at the screen, waiting. then, the notification pinged.
“lol, that’s cute,” you replied. “where you living rn?”
chan’s hands shook as he typed back. “seoul. just a humble dancer here. what about you? where you at?”
“imma bet she’s like, in some penthouse in new york or something,” soonyoung guessed.
chan rolled his eyes but waited, heart in his throat, until your next message popped up.
“france atm. here for work.”
“what the fuck?” chan whispered, blinking. “she’s in france? who just casually drops they’re in france?”
“she’s high-class, bro,” vernon chuckled, “better up your game.”
chan swallowed, typing back, “damn, france, huh? that’s far. what kind of work are you into?”
“bet she’s got some crazy job,” soonyoung mused, leaning in closer.
your reply came quicker this time. “i’m a director at a company. lots of traveling, lots of meetings, but it’s worth it.”
“right?” chan exhaled, trying to play it cool. “guess i better brush up on my french. so, when are you back in seoul?”
“soon,” you replied. “might need a tour guide when i get there. you up for the job?”
chan felt his heart skip a beat. “hell yeah, i’m up for it. i’ll make sure you see all the best spots.”
“even better if one of those spots is your place,” you teased.
his friends erupted into laughter, nearly falling off the couch as chan’s face turned beet red. “fuck… she’s smooth,” he mumbled, grinning despite himself.
“she’s gonna eat you alive, and you’re gonna love it,” vernon teased, leaning back into the couch, grinning ear to ear.
days passed, and his friends kept throwing out jokes, but none of them actually thought he’d go through with meeting you. it was supposed to be a dare, a laugh, nothing serious. but there chan was, pulling on the finest clothes he owned, trying to look like he belonged next to someone like you. black slacks, a crisp white shirt, the kind of fit that made him feel like maybe he could pass for someone with a little more class, some nice pants, and his best pair of shoes. it wasn’t designer, but it was the best he could do.
he paced in front of his apartment building, checking his phone every two seconds. his palms were already sweating, and his heart raced in his chest like it was trying to break free.
then, he saw it—a sleek black porsche 911 pulling up to the curb, the engine purring like a panther. “no fucking way,” he whispered to himself as the door opened and you stepped out, removing your sunglasses with a casual flick of your wrist. your gaze locking onto his. you were the picture of luxury, the kind of woman who had her shit together and didn’t let anyone forget it.
chan swallowed hard, his confidence from your messages feeling a little shaky now that you were right in front of him. “uh, hey,” he managed, running a hand through his hair.
you smiled, a slow, knowing curve of your lips as you approached him. “nice to finally meet you, chan,” you said, your voice smooth, like you were used to making people feel a little off-kilter.
“y-yeah, you too,” he stammered, trying to hold it together. “you look... wow.”
“thanks,” you replied, glancing at his outfit. “you clean up pretty well yourself.”
he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “figured i should try to look the part.”
you gave him an appraising look before tilting your head towards the car. “so, you know how to drive?”
he blinked, caught off guard. “uh, yeah, of course.”
“good,” you said, tossing the keys his way. he barely caught them, fumbling a bit as he did. “why don’t you take us for a spin, then?”
“you want me to drive that?” chan asked, glancing back at the porsche, his nerves doubling.
you nodded, a glint in your eye. “you got it, pretty boy. show me what you can do.”
chan’s heart thudded in his chest as he walked over to the car, his hands still a little shaky as he slid into the driver’s seat. the leather was soft under his fingers, the kind of luxury he wasn’t used to, but damn if he didn’t feel like a king behind that wheel.
he started the engine, the car rumbling to life, and glanced over at you. you were watching him, your expression amused but with a hint of something else, something that made him feel like this was more than just a ride.
“so, where to first?” he asked, gripping the wheel a little tighter.
“how about we start with wherever you usually hang out?” you suggested, settling into the seat, your gaze flicking to him. “i want to see the city through your eyes.”
chan nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “okay, i can do that.”
chan had never felt so out of his element, yet so at ease. he’d taken you through his world, showing you his favorite spots around the city—the dance studio where he spent countless hours perfecting his moves, a little-known art exhibition that he’d insisted on paying for, despite your amused protests. now, the two of you strolled through a quiet park, the late afternoon sun casting a warm, golden glow over everything.
as you walked, chan led you to a secluded spot where an old statue stood, slightly weathered but still striking. it was a simple piece, a couple entwined in an embrace, their lips inches apart, forever captured in a moment of almost-kissing.
“so, this statue,” chan started, his voice a little softer now. “there’s this legend that if you kiss someone here, you’re supposed to stay together forever. something about how the artist sculpted it after he lost his wife. he wanted to capture their last moment together, just before they kissed, so they could be like that forever.”
you stopped, staring at the statue, then glanced at him with a knowing smile. “and here i thought you were just a dancer. didn’t know you were into old romantic tales, too.”
he shrugged, a bit bashful. “yeah, well, this place is special. it’s got a vibe, you know?”
“i know,” you replied, stepping closer to the statue, your hand brushing over its surface. “i’ve actually been here before. in fact, i’ve been to every place you showed me today.”
chan’s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of shock and curiosity flooding his expression. “wait, you did? why didn’t you say anything?”
you turned to face him, your gaze locking onto his. “i just wanted to spend time with you. i wanted to see how you experience these places, what they mean to you.”
“that’s… actually pretty sweet.”
you nodded, stepping closer until you were right in front of him, your body almost brushing against his. “you think so?”
for a moment, neither of you spoke, the world around you fading into the background. chan could feel the words hanging between you like a challenge and an invitation all at once.
“well,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “there’s still one thing we haven’t done yet.”
“what’s that?” you asked, your voice equally soft, a teasing edge to it.
chan didn’t answer with words. instead, he slowly closed the distance between you, his hands gently resting on your hips. you could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding back, not wanting to rush, but there was no mistaking the want in his eyes.
and then he kissed you.
it started slow, like he was savoring the first taste. his lips were soft against yours, but there was a firmness in the way he held you. the kiss deepened, his hands sliding up your sides, feeling the smooth, expensive fabric of your dress under his fingertips. it was like touching pure luxury, and it made his heart race even faster.
you responded in kind, your hands sliding over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath his shirt. he was strong, solid, and the contrast between his ruggedness and your refinement sent a thrill through you. you pressed closer, feeling the heat of his body, the way his breath mingled with yours.
he pulled you even closer, his hands now fully around your waist, one sliding up your back as if trying to memorize every inch of you. there was nothing between you and the world but this kiss, this moment, where time seemed to stretch and bend around the two of you.
the kiss was everything—soft and sweet, yet desperate and consuming, like neither of you wanted it to end. his scent surrounded you, a combination of something clean and musky, grounding you even as the kiss made you feel like you were floating.
you pulled back slightly, your lips lingering close to his. you could still feel the ghost of his kiss on your mouth.
chan’s apartment is exactly what you imagined—small, cozy, clean, and it smells like fresh laundry mixed with something musky that’s all him. it’s simple, a little too bare maybe, but there’s something comforting about it. like it’s a place where he can just be himself.
“it’s not much,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he leads you inside. “definitely not what you’re used to. not fancy or anything, but… it’s home.”
you smile at him, stepping further into the living room. “i like it,” you say, and you mean it. it’s a place that feels real, lived-in, and right now, it’s exactly where you want to be.
chan watches you carefully, like he’s trying to gauge your reaction, but when he sees the smile on your face, some of that tension leaves his shoulders. he looks at you, a little nervous, but you can see the desire underneath, the way he’s holding himself back.
“so,” you say, stepping closer to him, letting your body brush against his. he’s solid, all hard muscle and pent-up energy, and you can feel the heat radiating off him. “you gonna give me the full tour?”
his breath hitches when you press against him, your lips so close to his that he can practically taste you already. “uh, yeah,” he says, his voice low and a little rough. “i mean, it’s not a big place or anything, but…”
you don’t let him finish. instead, you lick his lips with the tip of your tongue, just a quick, teasing flick that has him groaning almost immediately. his hands twitch at his sides, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you yet.
“chan,” you murmur, your lips ghosting over his. “why don’t you show me the whole place?”
his eyes darken, his hands finally coming up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. “you mean… like, now?”
“now,” you confirm, giving him a slow, sultry smile. “and maybe we can start with the bedroom.”
chan doesn’t need to be told twice. he practically drags you down the short hallway, your laughter echoing off the walls as he fumbles with the door. the second you’re inside, his hands are on you, pulling you close, kissing you like he’s been waiting forever to do it.
you push him back toward the bed, feeling the mattress hit the back of your legs as you fall onto it together. chan’s kisses are hungry, almost desperate, and you can feel him trembling slightly, the anticipation building between you.
“fuck, you’re so hot,” he mutters against your lips, his hands sliding under your shirt, feeling the soft skin beneath.
you smirk, running your hands down his chest, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you tease, slipping your hand lower, brushing over the bulge in his jeans.
chan’s breath catches in his throat, his hips bucking up into your touch. “shit,” he groans, his head falling back as you palm him through the fabric.
you undo his jeans, sliding them down just enough to free his cock, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes as the cool air hits him. he’s already rock hard, thick and pulsing in your hand, and when you lean down to take him into your mouth, the sound he makes is nothing short of pathetic.
“fuck, oh fuck,” he moans, his hands gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles turn white. “shit, your mouth… feels so good.”
you hum around him, swirling your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty bead of precum there. chan’s hips jerk involuntarily, and you can feel how desperate he is, how much he’s holding back. you start moving your mouth up and down his length, taking him deeper each time, and the way he’s losing his mind over it is almost enough to make you lose control.
“i… i can’t—” chan gasps, his voice shaking as he tries to hold on. “i’m gonna… fuck, i’m gonna cum.”
you don’t stop, sucking harder, taking him all the way to the back of your throat. chan’s moans are getting louder, more broken, and you can feel his cock throbbing, his whole body tensing up as he gets closer and closer.
“fuck, i’m cumming, i’m—” he chokes out, his hips bucking up as he spills into your mouth. his whole body shakes, his moans turning into desperate, breathless gasps as he rides out the high, his fingers digging into the sheets like he’s afraid he’ll float away.
you don’t let up, even as he starts to soften in your mouth, your tongue teasing him, milking every last drop out of him. chan’s breath comes in ragged pants, his body twitching uncontrollably as you keep going.
“s-stop,” he pleads, his voice hoarse, almost broken. “too much… can’t…”
you pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you crawl up his body. “too much?” you ask, your voice full of teasing. “we’re just getting started.”
chan barely has time to process that before you’re straddling him, your body pressing down onto his still sensitive cock. he gasps, his hands flying to your hips, but he’s too overwhelmed to do anything more than hold on as you start moving.
“fuck, fuck, i can’t,” he whimpers, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes screwed shut. “i can’t, it’s too much.”
“you can take it,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss him, your hands sliding up his chest. “just relax, let me take care of you.”
chan groans, his hips bucking up into you even though every nerve in his body is screaming at him to stop. the overstimulation is driving him insane, every touch of your body, every movement making him tremble, his hands gripping the pillow like it’s his lifeline. he’s never felt anything like this before, never thought he could feel this good and this overwhelmed at the same time.
you can feel him trembling beneath you, his whole body tense with the effort of holding on. it’s almost too much for him, but you don’t stop, not yet. you want to push him just a little further, want to see how far you can take him.
chan brought out something in you that you hadn’t felt in years. it wasn’t just the excitement of being with someone young and full of life—it was how he made you feel, like every moment with him was a break from the weight of the world. he had this way of dragging you out of your high-stress life and dropping you into something simple, fun, and completely unpretentious.
like that time he took you to the amusement park. you hadn’t been to one in ages, but there you were, screaming your lungs out on roller coasters, laughing so hard you thought you’d cry, and holding his hand through it all. it wasn’t fancy, wasn’t anything like the high-end places you usually found yourself in, but it was exactly what you needed. chan made you feel alive in a way you’d forgotten was possible.
then there were the movie dates, sitting in those darkened theaters with him, your feet up on the seat in front of you like a couple of carefree kids. he’d always pick the cheesiest movies, and you’d groan, but somehow, they ended up being exactly what you needed. you loved watching his face light up during the action scenes or how he’d lean in close to whisper jokes in your ear, making you laugh so much you’d miss half the movie.
but it wasn’t just the dates. it was the little things. like when he’d have one of his fashion shows for you, parading around your massive living room in the new clothes you’d gotten him. the way he’d strike ridiculous poses, just to make you smile, or how his face would light up when you genuinely praised him, making him feel like he was on top of the world.
and you loved being by his side when his friends came over. they had this infectious energy, pulling you into their world effortlessly. you even found yourself spoiling them now and then, slipping one of them some cash or buying them a round of drinks, because they took care of chan so well, and you appreciated that more than you could say.
chan balanced you in a way that was almost scary. no matter how tired you were after a long day at work, he was your constant source of energy, always there, always ready to make you feel better. you’d stop by some luxury brand store on the way home, picking up a few things for him because you knew he’d love it, and because it made you happy to spoil him a little.
you knew that when you walked through the door, he’d be there, waiting for you. sometimes, he’d pull you into bed, his arms wrapped around you as he coaxed you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you drifted off. other times, he’d be more playful, those dancer’s hips of his working magic as he eased the stress out of your body in ways that made you forget all about the bullshit of the day.
“missed you,” he’d murmur, his voice husky and full of affection as he pressed a kiss to your neck.
“missed you too,” you’d reply, your hands finding their way to his hips, pulling him closer. “you always know how to make everything better.”
and it was true. chan wasn’t just a breath of fresh air—he was your escape, your balance, the thing that made everything else worth it.
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