put together a quick drabble to celebrate Wriothesley coming home early <3
Pairing: Wriothesley/Reader
WC: 813
Content warnings: brief descriptions of canon-typical injuries, ( bloody nose and bruises). otherwise just fluff.
“I would tell you to remember this the next time you decide to get into a fistfight with a rogue Gardemek, but we both know you’re not going to listen,” you sigh, pulling the first aid kit out of the cabinet and bringing it over to his desk.
“I was just doing my job. Someone had to put that thing out of commission before it hurt someone,” Wriothesley smiles up at you from where he’s sprawled in his chair. The bloody nose and bruised knuckles only add to his rakish charm, not that you’re going to tell him that.
“Oh, please. I know you can’t resist a challenge, especially if you’ve been told it’s impossible. Also, someone did get hurt, in case you missed that,” you say primly, gently poking one of the rapidly darkening bruises as you begin the careful process of disinfecting his wounds.
“Your bedside manner is terrible, my dear nurse. I’m in pain, you’re supposed to comfort me and kiss it better.”
“Not your nurse,” you say absentmindedly while you wrap his hands. “Just filling in for Sigewinne while she’s out. You can ask her for kisses when she gets back.”
He wrinkles his nose in distaste at the suggestion, and then winces as his wounded nose protests the movement. “I’m not gonna ask Sigewinne. Only your kisses make me feel better,” he wheedles.
You examine the wrappings on his hands. Satisfied with your handiwork for now, you bring one of his hands to your lips. Ever so gently, you brush a kiss across his knuckles. Beneath you, you hear his breath hitch. You reach for his other hand, dusting a kiss to the bandages there before you push yourself up and begin to gather the first aid supplies back into their box.
Before you fully remove yourself from his space, Wriothesley catches your wrist, holding you for a moment. When you turn to look at him questioningly, he taps his lips with a smile. “You missed a spot.”
You lean down, hovering your face over his. His eyes slide to half-mast and his lips part ever so slightly as his chin tips up towards you.
“Hmm. Looks fine to me,” you muse, grabbing the first aid kit and stepping neatly out of his reach. You hear his head thunk against the back of his chair as you return the first aid kit to its place in the cabinet. Making a list in your head, you return to his desk, taking a piece of scrap paper and a pen to make a list of supplies in the first aid kit that need to be replenished after its most recent use. The whole time, you feel his eyes on you, piercing grey-blue irises trained on your face.
“You gonna make me beg, sweetheart?” he rumbles, voice low.
“Yes,” you snipe back, not taking your eyes off the list you’re making.
His chair creaks in protest as he gets up, boots treading heavily as he rounds the desk. He plucks the pen and paper from your hand, tucking them into his breast pocket. He crowds into your space, slowly, letting you feel the warmth of him as he backs you into his desk. You sway back when your hips collide with the hard edge, and he keeps you there, dropping a hand to the edge of the desk and leaning in so close you can smell the sweat on his skin from his earlier bouts in the ring.
“Please,” Wriothesley murmurs, breath hot on your cheek. “Please, sweetheart, lemme kiss you. You’ve been driving me insane today, all dolled up and looking so sweet.”
You look up at him through your lashes. His eyes are blown black, dark and beseeching above you. “C’mon sweetheart, have mercy on me,” he begs.
You’ve had your fun, you decide. He has, after all, begged like you asked. It’s a small effort to close the gap between you and press a sweet kiss to his lips.
He doesn’t let you go far. When you pull back ever so slightly, a growl rumbles from his chest and he pulls you back to him, crushing his mouth against yours. He kisses you like he’s starving, devouring your lips.
You’re no better; you might play your games but you’re just as hungry for him as he is for you. You sink your hands into his hair and hold him close, clinging to him as your lips slide against each other.
The two of you are lost in each other for a moment, before a knock at the door startles you apart.
“Your Grace, Sigewinne is here,” a voice comes from the other side of the door.
You tidy your appearance, taking a step away. “Time for you to get looked over by an actual nurse,” you tell him with a smile. “Try not to bother her too much.”
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[try] ✿ - A loveless arranged marriage between two people who had not bothered to try to make it work in the first place.
[nuggets with gravy] ❂★ - Draco takes the reader out for a drive-thru in a Muggle fast food, but they did not prepare the reader’s order properly.
[bluer than blue] ✿ - Let them dirty my name, because I know how much you love yours.
[good 4 me] ❂✿ - A wedding card from a certain someone takes him back to when he was so sure he’d be the bride’s groom.
[no longer] ✿ - Moving on from Draco.
[you don’t know me] ✿❂☆ - Their love has a deadline, it just isn’t clear to both parties that it isn’t forever when the Potions Professor courts the Charms Professor, unbeknownst to him that she’s determined to be somewhere else.
[you think so?] ❂★ - The reader wakes up to Draco talking about her to his friends in that way.
[creepin’ cabin] ❂ - Halloween’s a thrill as Hogwarts introduces the Tri-Wizard Tournament and throws a horror house in to the mix instead of just a feast.
[music lunchbox thingy] ❂ - When the plan to throw a mini party in an effort to make friends with people of her own house goes awry, the least she expected to turn up happens to be the only guest she would have.
[bewizarding] ❂ - Studying for the O.W.L.s with Draco takes an unexpected turn.
[ceasefire] ❂☆ - How they went from each other’s bane of existence to idiots who couldn’t see what they mean to each other resorting to teasing back and forth long after putting an end to constant jinxing and hexing.
[all things sweet] ❂ - Young love and candy — the perfect combination to all things sweet.
Content warnings: smut. no pronouns used for the reader but they are described as having breasts and a vagina.
i have a note on my phone that i keep open at night because i'll have ideas as i'm falling asleep that i'll forget in the morning. this was one of them. the note just said 'jing yuan fingers you in his office chair.' enjoy.
title taken from Put My Hands On You by DEAN, Anderson .Paak
as usual, minors and ageless blogs dni.
You stretch languidly on the couch, setting your novel down on the table behind you. The sun in the artificial sky outside your window has set, and the stars have come out. Time has truly gotten away from you, and you suspect it has escaped your lover as well.
Normally, by now Jing Yuan would have emerged from his office in your shared home and flopped himself in your lap to beg for attention, like a big cat wholly unaware of the size of his body. Instead, the door to your lover’s office remains closed, and when you put your ear to the door you hear the rustle of papers followed by a gusty sigh.
You can picture him, seated at his desk behind the door. You know he’s practically pouting, shuffling through the mounds of paperwork that require his attention. He likes to reserve his time at home to spend with you; both of you lead busy lives and what time you have together is precious to him.
However, there are some days where he gets distracted. Your lover is a hard worker, dedicated to his job and efficient to a fault, for all that he likes to play the fool. Today must be one of them. You know that by this time he’ll have completed all of the work that needs to be done today, otherwise he would still be at the Seat of Divine Foresight. Jing Yuan doesn’t like bringing his urgent work home.
He probably needs a distraction, you muse to yourself. It’s more than likely that a complicated matter came up and he got lost in the weeds, reviewing every piece of connected information, no matter how tangential.
You can’t lie, you’re craving his attention right now too. It’s been a long day and you came home ready to sink into the warm embrace of your loving partner, only to be thwarted by his own dedication to his job, so you can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him. Getting his attention is worth the attempt, though. If he’s truly busy he’ll tell you, with mournful eyes and a loving kiss.
If he has time and just needs a reminder to pull himself out of work, well then. A smile pulls across your lips as you remember the other times that he’d apologized to you for getting distracted, and a shiver runs down your spine as you feel his phantom touch on you.
It’s worth an attempt, you decided. To make your intentions clear, you go to your shared bedroom and pull out a nightie that he’d gifted you, a tiny thing made out of deep maroon silk. It’s practically lingerie, an idea supported by the matching panties you slip over your legs before you pull the nightie over your head. The hem just kisses the tops of your thighs, and you smile at your reflection. The only thing left is to pull on the short silk robe that hangs in the closet; Jing Yuan does like to unwrap his gifts.
You knot the tie at your waist, loose enough that he can see the peek of maroon lace under the collar of the robe. Your dear general does also love a tease. Satisfied, you make your way from the bedroom to his office, gently tapping your knuckles against the hardwood door.
“Come in,” you hear his low voice rumble, and you let yourself in his office, closing the door behind you. Jing Yuan sits behind his desk, still dressed for the day with his hair bound up. He looks remorseful as you approach him, trailing your fingers over the edge of his desk. When you get close enough he gathers you into his arms, pulling you to stand in the space between his spread legs.
“I’m sorry, my love. Time got away from me today,” he sighs, burying his face into the soft silk that covers your midsection.
You stroke your hands through his soft hair. “There’s nothing to forgive. I’m not going to fault you for doing your job,” you say, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head.
“You are too kind to me, my love,” he breathes against you, voice muffled. He nuzzles his face into you, and you huff out a laugh at his childish behavior. You feel him nudge aside part of your robe, and he smiles against you. “What’s this?” he purrs, pulling back just enough to undo the sash of your robe. It falls open, revealing the silk and lace underneath.
“Pajamas,” you deadpan. You run your hand through his hair, scratching your nails gently against his scalp as he shamelessly admires the way the deep crimson lace frames your decolletage. “It’s late, Jing Yuan. You should come to bed,” you admonish as you slide your hand from his hair to cup the side of his face.
He leans into your touch, turning his head to press his lips to your palm. His golden eyes gleam as he looks up at you over the top of your hand, and you know he’s planning something. You decide to try and beat him to the punch and bait him out of his chair.
You step back, pulling out of his arms. It’s immediately suspicious that he just lets you go, and you can’t help the thrill of anticipation that shivers down your spine. Affecting an air of disinterest, you turn away, taking a step towards the door. “I’m going to go run a bath. Feel free to join me whenever you finish.”
His arm snakes out, grabbing your wrist. You bite back a grin and let him pull you into his lap, his other arm banding around your waist, pressing you against his chest. “Leaving so soon?” he murmurs, tracing the line of your neck with his nose.
He brushes his lips in a delicate kiss on the sensitive skin underneath your ear. You sigh and tilt your head to the side, exposing your throat to his attentions. Ever the obliging lover, he trails his lips to the spot where your pulse flutters under your jaw, his tongue tasting your skin for a brief moment before he bites. He’s careful- or perhaps deliberate, biting just hard enough to bring a flush to your skin. That’s going to be difficult to cover in the morning, you muse.
You feel him smirk against the new mark on your throat. He kisses it before he moves on, nipping and sucking a trail down your throat, leaving a swath of marks in his wake. Thinking of all the makeup you’re going to have to use in the morning to cover them, you lift a hand to push his head away. He must sense your intent because he changes tactics, trailing a hand up to grasp at your breast. His palm is large, and you can feel the warmth of his hand and the calluses on his fingers through the thin silk of your nightgown.
Your fingers sink into his hair, pulling him close instead of pushing him away as he mouths at your collarbone and squeezes the fat of your tit in his palm. He slides his hand under the lace to pluck at your nipple, as a musician plucks the strings of his favorite instrument. You sigh and arch your back, pressing yourself into the heat of his hand.
The movement also grinds you down against his lap, where you can feel the growing weight of his erection against your ass. Deliberately, you roll your hips back into it, and you feel him groan against your shoulder. You go to repeat the movement, hoping that it will drive him to do more, when his other arm stills your hips.
He chuckles into the curve of your neck, one hand still playing with your breast and the other rubbing soothingly at your hip. “Don’t be impatient, I’m going to take care of you.”
“You had all day to play around, Jing Yuan,” you demand, tugging lightly at his hair. “I want you now.”
“Good things come to those who wait, my love,” he says, pressing a fond kiss to your cheek. He resumes his slow exploration of your body, his large hands moving gently over your skin. One hand glides down to tease at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
You spread your legs, inviting him to touch you where you want it most. He obliges, and you almost wish he didn’t as he skates his fingers over the damp gusset of your panties. He runs a finger up and down your covered slit, teasing at your clit through the cloth.
His movements are deliberate. Whenever you get impatient, he always slows down and teases you until he gets his way, the insufferable man. Jing Yuan has had centuries to cultivate his patience, and it always shows up at the worst times. You know that if you push him further, he’ll just continue to tease, bringing you closer and closer to the edge but never letting you fall.
So you relax into him, running your fingers through his hair while he does what he pleases. He practically purrs in satisfaction, bringing his fingers up to gently pinch at your clit through your panties. His chest rumbles with a laugh under you at the sound you make, and he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re so good to me, my love. I suppose I shouldn’t make you wait any longer.”
He slowly slides your panties down your legs, stopping to tuck them in his pocket before he finally puts his hands where you want them. You moan at the first touch of his finger to your clit, throwing your head back to rest against his shoulder. He slides his fingers through your slit, coating them in the slick that’s gathered there before he returns to your clit, rubbing gentle circles on it.
Each touch stokes the fire in your belly. It had been simmering low while he’d been teasing you, but now that he’s actually touching you it roars to life, sending sparks skittering through your bloodstream.
You can hear him murmuring soft words into your hair, but you don’t register any of them as he sinks a finger into your hole, continuing to play with your clit. You have a sneaking suspicion that he’s writing his name in the shapes that he traces, but in this moment you can’t bring yourself to care.
You moan as he adds another finger, curling them against the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He nudges your cheek, prompting you to turn your head so he can capture your lips in a kiss. You moan into his mouth as his fingers pick up speed. Gone are the teasing touches; he seems intent on bringing you to your orgasm as fast as possible.
Jing Yuan consumes all of your senses. He’s warm against your back, his lips move hot and heavy against yours, and his fingers are thrusting deep inside you, pounding against the spongy spot in your core that makes your blood sing. You can’t help it, you see the peak of your orgasm approaching and then in the next moment are thrown off it, your back arching as you break away from the kiss in a silent scream.
He works you through it, wringing every drop of pleasure he can from your body as you come down from the high. When you still, he finally withdraws his fingers from your dripping center, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean with a hum of contentment.
As you settle into his lap, you can feel his erection. He’s fully hard under you, and you feel the fire in your belly spark to life again. He makes a noise of confusion as you turn in his lap, but you silence him with a kiss. Luckily his chair is big enough that you can plant your knees on either side of his hips, and you roll your hips down to meet his as you settle over him. He moans filthily into your mouth, his arms coming up to wrap around your body.
You reach your hands down to pull at the belts and buckles of his clothes, cursing in the back of your mind that he wears such a complicated outfit.
“You don’t have to do that, my love-” he starts, breaking away from the kiss. You silence him with a look.
“I want you inside me,” you say. He moans as you wrap your hand around his newly freed cock and stroke him. He’s ready for you, you just take a moment to pay him back for his earlier teasing as you pump him with your hand, paying special attention to the sensitive spot underneath the head.
Lining him up with your entrance, you sink down on him, and he throws his head back against the chair with a moan as your slick heat envelops him. It’s a torturous few moments as you take him; your lover is big enough that you have to give yourself time to adjust no matter how well prepared you are.
When your hips finally meet his, you moan at the sensation of fullness. He tips his head forward to rest his forehead against yours, and the two of you rest like that for a moment, eyes closed and simply basking in the closeness.
You break away first, shifting on your knees as you prepare to ride him. He leans back in his chair and watches you from heavy lidded eyes, his hands stroking up and down your thighs and waist.
He moans as you lifted and dropped your hips against him, his eyes dropping fully closed as you moved against him. You feel his fingers tightening against your hips as you pick up the pace, grabbing his shoulders for support as you ride him.
His hips move under you, matching your rhythm as he rolls them in time with your hips. He leans forward, taking the opportunity to catch one of your breasts in his mouth. You twine a hand in his hair, and you can’t help the whine that slips out of you as he sucks on one of your sensitive nipples.
Your thighs quiver, and Jing Yuan takes over, your breast leaving his mouth as he plants his feet and begins thrusting in earnest. You cling to his shoulders as he moves under you, moaning helplessly as he chases his pleasure.
“Please, I’m so close. I need-” you gasp, pulling one of his hands off your hips and guiding it to your clit. He knows what you mean, and immediately starts rubbing the sensitive nub gently with his thumb. You arch your back and keen as your orgasm washes over you, shuddering in his hold.
You feel a pulse and then a flood of warmth inside you as he comes, groaning and falling forward to rest his head in the valley between your breasts. You wrap one arm around his shoulders and run your other hand through his hair, both of you panting as you come down from your highs. With a sigh, you press a fond kiss to the top of his head.
He bites gently at the side of your breast and you swat at his shoulder. “You’ve left enough marks.”
He pulls back with an impish grin, tightening his arms around your waist. “You wear them well, my love,” he says, smiling up at you. “I think I’m ready for that bath now, if your offer still stands.”
You test your legs as you raise yourself up on the chair, not trusting the wobble in your knees as you move. “You’ll have to carry me,” you decide, flopping back down into his lap.
hit me with your best shot; koushi sugawara/reader
content warnings: smut, no pronouns used, afab genitalia briefly mentioned, a splash of daddy kink.
reader and Suga are hinted to be in an undefined/fwb situation; they have history together, written post Haikyuu timeskip so all characters are 20+
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
i, uh, learned some things about myself while writing this. enjoy <3
"Hey there beautiful, come here often?"
You hear the line as you see a familiar teasing smile and flicker of golden eyes, as a patron in a soft sweater vest slides into a seat at your bar.
"I see you at least once a week, Sugawara. That line isn't gonna work on me," you huff, throwing him a smile as you busy yourself wiping down glasses behind the counter.
"What can I say? Work drives me to drink," he drawls, propping his chin up on one hand and smiling at you under hooded eyes.
"I can think of a few young admirers who would be disappointed to hear their beloved Suga-sensei blame them for all the money he spends at the bar," you snipe back, hands steadily measuring out ingredients into the shaker tin before you.
You make a little show of mixing the drink, moving through practiced motions as you shake the cocktail and then strain it into a cut crystal glass with a flick of your wrist. You preen a little bit at the way his honey gold eyes track every movement you make, from the shaking the last drop out of the jigger to the way your sleeve rides up as you slide the glass across the counter, crisp cuff revealing a flash of the tender skin of your wrist for just a moment.
He catches the glass, taking a sip and catching your eyes over the rim. "How could I stay away when the drinks are this good?" he asks, resting the glass near the elbow of his folded arm.
"Oh please. You've been coming here since we were both in college and just learning how to pour."
"Maybe I keep coming back for your... service, then." He leans back on the barstool, one delicate hand coming up to flick open the buttons at his collar. You can't help the way your eyes are drawn to the motion, tracing the line of his throat as it's exposed by each flick of his fingertips.
"I'm working, Suga. You can't just say things like that," you hiss over the counter, hiding from his sly smile and the way it makes you feel too exposed in the dim lights of the bar.
He pouts, faking offense as he raises the glass to his lips for another drink. "I thought you liked the things I say to you," he says, smirking over the rim of the glass.
You roll your eyes. "You have the worst lines."
He lifts his index finger from the rim of the glass to point at you. "They worked on you, so I don't think you have room to judge."
"That is true," you heave an exasperated sigh. "What does that make me?"
"A person with good taste," he sniffs.
"In men, maybe. But not for pickup lines."
"Was that a compliment? I'm touched," he preens, pressing a hand over his heart.
"I said maybe. Jury's still out."
"There has to be something I can do to convince you," he purrs, leaning over the counter.
You make a show of considering your options. "Well, there is that thing you do with your-"
He gasps in mock offense. "Bartender, that's dirty. I thought you were working."
"Only for the next-" you check your watch, "eighteen minutes. After that, I'm at your service."
Once the bar is closed and locked, it's a brisk walk in the pre-dawn autumn chill to your apartment. Suga behaves himself until you rummage in your pockets for your keys, pressing up behind you with two large hands gripping your hips and his hot mouth tracing patterns up and down the column of your neck.
He huffs a laugh, and squeezes the fat of your hips when the puff of his breath on your neck makes you shiver and almost drop your keys. "Hurry up, beautiful. I wanna get inside," he whispers against your throat, teeth tugging gently at your earlobe.
You swat at one of his hands and finally get the door unlocked, pushing it open and pulling him inside, hopefully before the obaa-san next door hears anything.
"Easy, baby. I just wanted inside your apartment, it's cold out in the hallway."
You don't have to see him to know that he's wearing that impish smile; you can feel it pressed against your skin as he traces his lips over the corner of your jaw and up to capture your lips.
He's pivoted you perfectly so that your shoulders hit the wall just to the side of the switches that control the lights for the genkan. Suga runs his hands up and down your sides, landing back on your hips to pull yours against his own, grinding his growing hardness into the apex of your thighs.
You thread a hand into his silver hair and pull, just enough to separate him from your lips. A whine slips past his lips at the sensation, and it turns into a full blown moan as you sink your teeth into the side of his exposed throat.
It turns into a shuffle in the dark, the two of you shedding your shoes and leaving a trail of clothes in the dark as you try to stay within the reach of searching lips and grasping hands. You grab his hips and pivot at the last moment when you enter your bedroom, letting him bump the back of his knees against your bedframe.
You give him a gentle push, and follow his momentum down as he lands on your bed with a soft grunt. His teeth gleam in the dark as he grins up at you, tracing your curves with an appreciative hand. You straddle his waist and lean down to suck a trail of plum bruises across his pecs.
"So - ah- you're taking the lead tonight, then?" he asks, moaning as you graze your teeth across his pert nipple.
"Hmm," you trail your lips against his throat, making sure he can feel the vibrations. "No. But I wanted to make you work for it."
You see the curve of his smile in the moonlight, and then your view spins as he flips you on to your back, pinning your hands above your head.
"So cruel," he whines, panting against your lips. You crane your neck to kiss him, nipping at his bottom lip.
"You love it."
"Mhmm, I do." He laughs softly and gently bites your lip in response, before he shifts back. He reaches off the bed to fish something out of his pants pocket. "I was hoping you'd let me lead tonight. I'm gonna make you scream, beautiful."
He pauses for a moment, and squeezes your hand. "Remember the safe word?"
"Strawberry," you confirm, returning his squeeze.
Suga huffs a laugh. "Good. If you're ready, I'm going to blindfold you."
You raise your head so he can tie the blindfold over your eyes. It's soft; silken and cool over your eyes as he carefully fastens it behind your head. He grabs your wrists and gently presses them to the pillow behind your head.
"The one rule tonight is that you can't move," he says, tracing a finger along the line of your jaw to tilt your chin up, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. "If you do, I won't let you cum. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Koushi."
He clicks his tongue. "That's not what you should call me right now, is it?"
You swallow. "Yes, Daddy," you correct yourself.
He rewards you with another gentle kiss. "Very good. Now just lay back and let me make you cum."
You feel his lips trace gentle patterns down your throat, stopping to leave a mark on the fat of your tit as he makes his way to your nipple. Without prelude, he sucks one of your nipples in his mouth and begins rolling the other one between callused fingers. The double sensation startles a moan out of you, and you feel him smile around your breast.
His lips pop off your now stiff nipple, not before he grazes it gently with his teeth and blows against the spit-slick skin, the cool breeze sending a shiver rippling down your spine. He kisses his way over to your other nipple and repeats the process until both of your nipples are slick and stiff in the cool night air.
There's the sound of shifting skin against skin, and you feel him lowering himself down your body, leaving soft kisses in his wake. He skips over where you're wet and glistening like a summer peach, throbbing for his attention.
Instead, he kisses his way down the inside of your leg, pressing a kiss to the inside of each of your ankles as he guides your legs over his shoulders. He toys with the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, leaving biting kisses and tracing nonsensical patterns with the tip of a callused finger.
You can't help the whine that slips from your lips at his ministrations.
"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you," he says from between your thighs, laughing softly against your dripping pussy.
"Please, Kou-Daddy. Please touch me," you whine, trying to hold still.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," he drawls, and leans in to lick a broad stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue.
Your back arches at the sensation, and he tuts under his breath, pulling back. "I'm sorry," you babble, pressing yourself into the bed. "I won't move, I promise."
"I believe you, you're always so good for me," he murmurs, leaning back in to stroke your clit with his tongue. He slides one hand along the inside of your thigh, teasing your hole with one finger before he slides it inside.
When you're fully shaking from the effort of trying to hold still, he adds another, curling them against the spongy spot inside you that makes you sob with pleasure. Combined with the gentle pressure of his lips sucking your clit into his mouth, you let out a wail as flames of ecstasy flicker up and down your nervous system.
"G-getting close, daddy," you hiccup, panting for breath.
"Good job, baby. I didn't even have to tell you to wait," he coos, pressing a wet kiss to the inside of your thigh. "I'll let you choose. Do you want to cum on my fingers, or on my cock?"
"Cock, please," you whine, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
"Whatever my baby wants," he says. He flips you over on to your stomach, pulling your ass up into the air. You can feel him lining himself up behind you, slicking himself in your juices that dripped down your thighs.
He teases you with the tip at first, shallow thrusts that just catch on the rim of your hole, playing with your clit the whole time. When sob escapes your throat, he coos behind you and finally slides home, his cock filling you.
You moan brokenly at the sensation, but manage to hold your hips from rutting back into the feeling. He strokes your flank and pulls out, thrusting back in deeply.
You can feel his composure start to slip; his moans start coming more and more frequently and his thrusts build in intensity. He reaches around to roll your clit between his fingers again, and you hear him whisper above you, "Cum for me, baby. Cum on daddy's cock."
You don't need further permission, you've been teetering on the edge of orgasm for a while now. It cascades over you, rolling like a thunderstorm with lightning bolts of pleasure dancing along your nerves.
He follows shortly after with a grunt, pressing himself inside you as you feel his cock jump and twitch with his own orgasm. He falls forward, pressing his chest against your back while he catches his breath, before sliding out of you and collapsing on the bed next to you.
The two of you lay in silence for a moment, the only sound in the room the faint chirping of birds as the sun slowly rises and your own heavy breathing.
Then your eyes meet, and the two of you dissolve into giggles.
"Daddy? Really?" you arch an eyebrow at him.
"What?" he asks defensively. "It's been a while since we used that one, and I didn't hear you complaining."
"You have a point," you concede. A yawn escapes your lips, bringing tears to the corners of your eyes for a moment as your jaw creaks.
"You're tired; I should go," he murmurs to himself, sitting up to start looking for his clothes.
"Don't be stupid, Kou," you sigh, throwing a sleepy arm over his waist. "You're welcome to stay. I'll only kick you out so that you can go brush your teeth, your toothbrush and toiletries are in the usual spot."
"Ah, thank you," he sighs, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.
"You might be able to even tempt me out of bed, if you cook breakfast," you mumble, face smushed into your pillow.
"I can do breakfast," he says, a soft smile creeping over his face as he watches the crease in your brow smooth out as you fall asleep.
Content warnings: this fic contains smut between two consenting adults. For the purposes of the smut, reader is described to have breasts and a vagina. No pronouns or gendered language are used to refer to the reader. No mentioned kinks, other than a slight oral fixation and hair pulling (JY receiving).
This is very loving reunion sex born out of me daydreaming about my selfship lore with this man.
Minors and ageless blogs DNI.
Jing Yuan has had centuries to cultivate his focus. A general of his years should be paying attention. He wants to, since you are clearly passionate about the constellations you are speaking about, but he cannot draw his eyes away from your legs. They peek out through the slits in your sleeping robe as you walk.
He is entranced by the movement of the silk over your smooth skin, teasing and tantalizing him as you pace around the room. A hunger stirs in the pit of his stomach, and a languid smile tugs at his mouth as he makes himself more comfortable in his position reclining on the bed.
“Distracted, general?” there is a teasing lilt to your voice, and Jing Yuan’s smile widens at being caught out. He drags his eyes up your form, to see that you’ve stopped moving and have crossed your arms over your chest, affecting an air of disapproval that is ruined by the amusement dancing in your eyes.
You slowly walk over to him, and he pushes himself up from his reclining position to greet you. As soon as you are within reach, he reaches out long arms to run his calloused palms up your legs. His fingers glide over the smooth fabric of your stockings, and the smile on his face takes a hungry edge when his hands reach your plush thighs. He dips a finger into the top of your stocking, snapping the band against your leg and watching entranced as the soft flesh jiggles.
Above him, you laugh softly, covering the sound with the long sleeve of your robe. He hears it regardless. Emboldened by your amusement he leans in and bites, sinking his teeth into the plush roll of your thigh, just above where the band of your stocking squeezes your leg. He smirks against your skin when he hears you gasp, a soft moan stuttering past your lips behind the silk sleeve of your robe.
He presses a tender kiss to the mark, a curl of satisfaction warming his belly at the ring of teeth marking your inner thigh. Just one taste is not enough, he decides, and leans in to repeat the process on your other thigh when he is intercepted.
You reach down and gently take his chin between your thumb and forefinger, pulling his head away from your legs. He is a sight to behold, sitting with his legs spread and looking up at you with golden eyes that shimmer with desire. His long hair is unbound in preparation for sleep, and you give in to the impulse to run your fingers through it, and he leans into the touch like an overgrown cat, practically purring at your touch.
With your other hand, you thumb at his plush bottom lip. He takes the opportunity to kiss the pad of your finger, before making eye contact and drawing your finger into his mouth. You feel him trace the length of your thumb with his tongue, before his cheeks hollow as he sucks for a moment and he releases your finger, leaving a teasing nip at the tip.
Grasping at the threads of your thoughts, you finally give up on maintaining the pretense of disapproval. He must see the change in your expression, because his smile grows wider and his big hands squeeze the backs of your thighs, thumbs sweeping over the skin as he pulls you closer.
“It seems you’ve distracted me too, General,” you purr, swiping your spit slicked thumb over the seam of his lips. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Only that I’ve missed you, my love.” He takes your hand and presses a lingering kiss to the back. For a moment, the desire in his eyes melts into a love so raw and tender that it sends shivers down your spine.
Then the heat is back in his gaze, and he tugs you down into his lap. “Let me make it up to you, dear one,” he whispers against your lips.
You lean in first, closing the scant few inches between you to tangle your hands in his hair and seal your lips over his. He tastes like coming home, his mouth sweet with the sugar of the milk tea that he so favors. He groans, fingers digging into the meat of your hips as he slides his lips against yours.
He swipes his tongue against your mouth, silently asking to deepen the kiss. You feel him twitch under you when you part your lips and allow him in. Your tongues tangle, and his hands slide hot and heavy from your hips to your back, pressing you against the firm muscle of his chest.
Leaning into him, you rest your weight fully in his lap and roll your hips against him. He makes a punched out sound, and he immediately slides his hands down your back to grip your rear, giving it a squeeze before encouraging you to roll your hips again. In the same motion, you fist one of your hands in his hair and pull, partially to break the kiss so that you can breathe, but mostly because you know he likes it.
As you roll your hips and tug his head back, Jing Yuan lets out a filthy groan, fixing one hazy golden eye on your face while his hips chase the friction. He grinds up against your core, and you can feel him hot and hard through the thin layers of your underwear and his sleep pants. You both moan at the contact, and you slide your hands from his hair to ruck his shirt up over his chest, pushing up in a silent demand for him to take it off. He chuckles low in his chest at your rush but complies, squeezing your ass one more time before he raises his arms to shed his shirt.
You begin work on shedding your robe, loosening the hidden ties and letting the silk slide off your shoulders, leaving it to pool forgotten somewhere on the floor. You waste no time in bearing down on your beloved general, pushing him down into the soft tangle of pillows and sheets. He huffs out a laugh that stutters off into a groan as you suck a mark into the side of his throat, and he strokes a warm hand down the length of your spine as you continue to nip and suck at his neck and chest.
He lets you have your way with him for a moment, before his hands return to your hips and he begins to pull you up his chest. You waver for a moment, putting a hand on his chest to stop the movement. “You don’t have to,” you murmur.
Reaching up, he gently covers your hand with his. “I want to, my love. I’ve been waiting for a chance to taste you again since you left,” the corner of his mouth cants up. “Also, I owe this to you for getting distracted.”
You huff out a laugh. “That is true. I expect you to make this distraction worth my while, General,” you tease.
He grins underneath you. “I intend to,” he promises, pulling you the rest of the way up, until your glistening center hovers over his mouth. You shudder at the first touch of his tongue, the slick slide sending sparks racing through your body. His touches are gentle, exploratory. It feels as if he is reacquainting himself with your body. The touches stoke heat in the pit of your stomach, but every time you begin to near a peak, he slows down. You groan in frustration as your third peak fades away, and you can feel him laugh softly against your most sensitive parts.
You fist a hand in his hair and pull, drawing his eyes to yours. The molten gold of his irises sparkle with amusement, but that spark is drowned in the lust that fills his eyes as you pull again. “You said you would make this worth my while. Stop teasing.” The weight of the demand is somewhat lessened by how breathy your voice is, but it doesn’t seem to matter.
“As my love commands.” You can feel him smile underneath you, and he pulls you down by your hips so that your pussy rests on his face. He immediately begins bringing your simmering orgasm roaring back to life, working you over with his tongue so efficiently that you are clinging to the headboard and trembling within a matter of minutes.
Your peak hits you like a hurricane, and Jing Yuan does not relent, holding you to his face until you are squirming away and begging him to stop. You both are breathing heavily, and you take a moment to take in the scene beneath you. He is flushed, hair a mess and eyes blown black, and his cheeks and chin glisten with your release. He makes eye contact, and very slowly and deliberately, he wipes your essence off his face with one hand and sucks his fingers into his mouth to clean them, humming at the taste.
You slide down his torso to rest on his thighs. His thin sleep pants do little to hide the shape of him, hard and leaking against his leg. He makes a wounded noise when you grip him through the cloth, and you stroke him once before pulling down his pants. You tease him for a moment, relishing the sounds he makes and the way his abdomen and thighs move as you spread the precum down his shaft, tracing the large vein on the underside. He doesn’t make any moves to rush you, but the clench of his jaw and the small, aborted thrusts of his hips tell you that he is holding himself back.
Getting on your knees, you line him up with your entrance. Your breath hitches as the blunt head presses into you. “I’ve been thinking of you inside me since I left,” you breathe out as you sink down on him, drawing him fully into your wet heat. He moans at that, throwing his head back into the pillow as your hips touch his.
His hands trace up and down your thighs as you begin to bounce on him, squeezing and kneading at your ass while you move. He is transfixed by you, watching your chest bounce and his eyes are drawn to the point where your bodies are joined. You put on a show for him, one hand resting on a firm thigh behind you while the other hand pinches and tweaks one of your breasts. His cock hits something deep inside you, and your head lolls back on your shoulders as you moan. At the sound, his hips stutter and his hands spasm, digging his fingers into the meat of your ass.
When your rhythm starts to falter and you fall forward, hands on his chest, Jing Yuan reaches up to press a kiss to your sweaty shoulder. He plants his feet on the bed and begins fucking up into you in earnest. His cock drives against something inside you that makes you collapse boneless against his chest, helpless against the waves of pleasure that crash over you. In your haze you feel your peak crest again, making your pussy squeeze him like a vice. He groans long and low into your hair, following you over the edge.
The two of you lie there for a moment, basking in the afterglow. You run a hand through his hair, and he has one arm looped loosely around your waist and the other stroking soothingly up and down your back. You prop yourself up on one arm, so you can see his face. “I did miss you,” you whisper, brushing his hair away from his face. He leans up to kiss you softly in acknowledgement, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
You turn your face to muffle a yawn into the back of your hand. He pulls the covers up, tucking you into his side under the blankets. “Sleep, my love. You’ve had a long day. We can talk more when you’ve rested,” he kisses your forehead.
“When we talk tomorrow, you’ll need to keep your hands to yourself,” you pin him with a mock glare.
He smiles, unrepentant. “You look so tempting, how could I possibly stay away from you?”
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content warnings: descriptions of fantasy violence, injury, and blood. nothing too graphic but read ahead with caution.
fantasy au, cleric!reader and fighter!umemiya, established relationship. probably ooc but i couldn't get the idea out of my head.
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
The fight had erupted out of nowhere. One moment, your party was walking down a wooded path, the next, you were beset on all sides by a group of bandits.
When the bandits had first struck, Umemiya had unceremoniously shoved you behind a tree, with an order to stay safe and a serious look in his blue eyes before he had pulled his helmet on and charged into the fray.
Steel clashed, the ringing of swords on swords filling the once quiet clearing. You watched from your position, hidden just beyond the treeline, as your party engaged the bandits. You're outnumbered at least two to one, but your friends are holding their own; you see Sakura flying through the enemy, a whirlwind of kicks and punches. Hiragi stands tall, his shield a bulwark that the enemies break against like waves.
At the front, his armor shining silver in the light, you see Umemiya, sword held high as he rallies your party to him. You glance behind him to see a shadow lurking, knife held poised to stab into the gaps of Umemiya's armor.
You curse, leaping out of your cover with a spell sparking to life in your hand. You should have been watching his back; you know Umemiya is too trusting, he always leaves his flank open, trusting that one of his friends will cover it for him.
Most of the time, he's right, but in this circumstance the rest of your party is battling their own opponents and Umemiya is about to pay for it.
You charge out of the treeline and hurl a crackling ball of radiant flames at the assassin behind Umemiya. The spell is a bit weak and a little off target; offensive magic isn't your forte but it does its job. The assassin lets out a howl of pain and reels back, giving Umemiya time to whirl around and cut down the attacker with a flash of his sword.
Several of the bandits break off from the group and run towards you- you've made yourself a target. Bracing for the incoming attack, you go through the motions of a spell, fire flickering at your fingertips as you summon a wave of flames between you and the enemy.
One of them lashes out through the fire with his sword, the tip of it catching the sleeve of your robes and cutting into the flesh of your arm beneath. You can't hold back the yell of pain, and retaliate with another ball of radiant fire. Your attacker stumbles back, and you see Hiragi slam them to the ground with his shield.
Hiragi looks at you, his eyes following the blood dripping from your fingertips and the way your arm hangs limply at your side. You wave him off, the glow of healing magic already forming around your uninjured hand. He nods and heads back into the fray; you run your healing magic along your wound, breathing a sigh of relief as the comforting warmth knits your torn skin back together.
The fighting slowly comes to a stop, the enemy's plan thwarted when you stopped their assassination of your leader. The survivors are left kneeling on the ground, heads bowed and hands tied behind their backs while they await judgement.
You make your way to each of your party members, healing magic sparkling at your fingertips as you heal their injuries. You can't help the laugh that escapes you at the way Sakura blushes when you take his chin in your hand to heal a cut bisecting his cheek.
He swats your hands away as soon as the spell finishes, stomping over to the prisoners with a shout about figuring out why they attacked you.
You look around and notice one missing. Hiragi meets your eyes and points in the direction of the river. You thank him and stow your staff before heading towards the sound of running water.
You see Umemiya sitting on a rock, the dappled sunlight shining on his armor and his helmet resting on the forest loam at his side. He straightens up at your approach, wide blue eyes uncharacteristically serious.
"I told you to stay behind," he says, pulling you towards him with a gentle hand behind your knee.
"And I did," you retort, crossing your arms over your chest.
"You ran out from cover and got hurt in the process."
"It wasn't that bad. I healed it already." You roll up your sleeve, showing just a stripe of pink, newly healed skin across your arm.
Umemiya takes your hand and presses a kiss to the healed mark on the back of it. "Just because you can heal yourself doesn't mean you should be endangering yourself recklessly," he murmurs quietly, lips brushing against your skin.
"I'm no more reckless than the rest of you," you sniff, rolling down your sleeve. "You always tell us that you trust us to watch your back, so you can't get mad when I do what you ask me to do."
He laughs, placing your hand against the warm skin of his cheek. He nuzzles into your palm and places a kiss against your skin. "You have a point," he admits. "I'm lucky to have you watching my back, especially today."
"You are lucky to have me," you smile, cupping his face with your other hand and leaning down to kiss the furrow in his brow. He wraps his arms around the tops of your thighs and buries his face in your stomach. "You know I'd do anything for you, Hajime."
"I do, that's what worries me," he groans, voice muffled in your robes. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me."
"Well, I don't want to see you get hurt either, so you understand how I feel," you say, stroking his hair back from his brow. "But we both have jobs to do that come with a certain amount of risk. I trust that you'll protect me, and you'll have to trust that I'll look out for you. If I can keep you from getting hurt I will, but I'll also do what I can to make sure that I stay in one piece so that I can patch you up when you do get hurt."
"So wise," he laughs, pulling his face out of your robes. "I can't argue with that." He stands up, looking down at you with a fond smile. "Let's get back to camp. I'll make us a good meal, I'm sure everyone's hungry after that fight."
You stop him with a palm against his chest. He looks down at you questioningly, and you lean up to capture his lips in a kiss. He immediately pulls you close, careful not to get his gauntlets caught in your hair.
"I wanted to get at least one kiss before tonight," you say when you pull away. "I'm pretty sure Sakura would combust if he saw us do that in camp."
Content Warnings: This does contain NSFT smut. There are no pronouns for the reader, but they are described to have breasts and a vagina during the smut. The reader is also hinted at losing their virginity during the smut. There are also themes of yandere behavior from both Geto and Gojo, but it gets pretty overt towards the end.
This is a part 2 of my piece The Fall of Icarus, that I wrote for @strawberrystepmom 's It Takes a Galaxy collab. You can find part 1 here. I do recommend reading it, as there will be lore and references in this that won't make sense if you haven't read part 1.
Speaking of lore, I really do play fast and loose with the canon for both Star Wars and JJK in this one, so I would not recommend reading this if you're looking for accuracy from either series.
Once again, thank you to the marvellous Miss Kendall for hosting such a fun collab, and encouraging me to take this from an outline to an actual finished piece. It really is an honor to participate in a collab with and hosted by such amazing and talented authors.
Minors and ageless blogs, DNI. If you don’t have an age in your bio or pinned I will block you.
In the darkest hours of the night, during the increasingly frequent evenings when sleep eludes you, you find yourself silently wishing that you had the strength to walk away. You can picture it; the weight of your saber leaving your hand as you surrender it to the masters, and the weight that would leave your shoulders as you walk away from the Temple for the last time.
Those thoughts fade like frost in the warmth of the morning light. You take your time getting dressed, making sure that every layer sits perfectly. When you look in the mirror, you wonder who you would be without the armor of your robes and the title of Knight. You are willing to concede that the Order is not perfect, but for all its flaws it is your home and the only family you have ever known. The thought is a comfort in the wake of the despair of the night, and you know in your heart that no matter how deep the despair gets you will not walk away.
Perhaps this is the attachment you have been warned about since you were a small child- the feeling of craving a home and the security that comes with it that you would do anything to keep it. You wonder if it makes you loyal, or just greedy. You reflexively reach for your comlink, preoccupied with the question you want to ask Geto.
Then you remember Geto left, and you let your arm fall limply to your side.
You reach up to the phantom space where your pendant used to rest, the memories of your last meeting with Geto playing in your mind. Part of you wonders what would have happened, if you had taken the offer he had laid so temptingly before you.
The details of Geto’s fall have become a closely guarded secret. Those files have a high enough security clearance that even you can’t access them. Gojo, who will normally tell you anything, just smiled when you asked and ruffled your hair, telling you not to worry your pretty little head. All you were told is that Geto was responsible for the death of an entire village, and you only have the confusing images left by your Force premonition to go on.
You know something happened. Your premonition confirmed that much, and was further strengthened by the state Geto had been in when you saw him in that alley. The dark side leaves a mark on those who come into contact with it. You are still haunted by the sight of his eyes, glowing gold in the dark shadows of the alley.
The only information that you’ve been able to glean in the months since is that Geto has been sighted with two young girls, and you’ve heard rumors that he’s started some sort of cult somewhere in the Outer Rim. For a moment you entertain the thought of getting in your ship and setting out to find him, but you are pulled from your thoughts by the sound of a knock at the door. You glance at the clock on your desk and realize that you’ve missed breakfast; someone must have come looking for you. You know it’s not Gojo, he would have just let himself in. You take a moment to recenter yourself, soothing your roiling emotions with the Force, then go to open the door.
A young man with dark hair and white robes stands on the other side. You recognize him as Gojo’s new Padawan, and a new recruit to the Jedi. He had been discovered only a few months ago, and the overwhelming strength of his power made him dangerous to leave alone. Gojo had volunteered to take the young man under his wing and train him, much to the chagrin of the Council, but that was to be expected from Gojo.
Yuuta pulls his hand back from where he had been about to knock again. “Ah, good morning! You weren’t at breakfast, so Master Gojo wanted to check on you- he would have come himself, but he was summoned to the Council, so he sent me instead,” he says, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Good morning to you too, Yuuta. I’m sorry you had to come all this way. I merely lost track of time thinking about a case,” You pat him gently on the shoulder and move to step past him into the hallway. “Since I lost track of time, I’m afraid I’m late for my duties. Excuse me.”
Before you can move past him, he grabs your wrist to stop you. “Master Gojo told me you’d say that. He also gave me specific instructions to make sure you went to the kitchens first and got something to eat before you go to the archives.”
“Ah, that does sound like him,” you smile ruefully and gently pull your wrist out of Yuuta’s hold. “Well Yuuta, would you like to accompany me? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about our upcoming trip, and this is as good a time as any. I’m sure you must have questions.”
He brightens and falls into step alongside you. “I do have some that I’ve been hoping to ask before we leave. What is Dantooine like?”
“The planet is mostly grasslands, so the view from the enclave there is like looking out onto a moving sea of green. The window from my old room there faced the sunrise, so I used to wake up before dawn to watch the sun come up and turn the clouds pink and the grasses gold,” you smile wistfully. “You can also see the brith playing in the clouds, and if you’re quiet you can get close and watch the piket graze the tops of the trees.”
“Oh, one thing you should be wary of when we go,” you turn to Yuuta. “The kath hounds on Dantooine are dangerous, and easily provoked. If you run into one, do not underestimate it.”
He looks at you, puzzled. “I thought I was just going to study at the archives there?”
“You grew up in the underbelly here on Coruscant, didn’t you?” When he nods, looking confused, you explain. “It’s important for Jedi to explore many different types of environments, and Dantooine is about as different from Coruscant as you can get. The planet is peaceful, without the pollution and constant noise, but it can be just as dangerous. Part of your training while we’re there will be learning how to navigate an environment that is unfamiliar.”
When his pale face gets even paler, you reach out and reassure him, both physically and through the Force. “Don’t worry, Yuuta. You won’t be alone while you’re doing this. I’ll be there to help, every step of the way. Think of it as a part research trip, part camping trip.”
Some color returns to his cheeks, and you see him unclench one hand from the sleeve of his robe. “Ah, that’s good. Master Gojo likes to ‘let me figure things out for myself’, and I usually learn something, but I also usually end up seeing Master Shoko at the end of it.”
Yuuta’s comlink buzzes. “Oh stars, I’m late for sparring. Maki’s gonna kill me,” he mutters to himself, reading the message.
You shoo him off with a gesture. “Go, go. I’m sorry for keeping you. I’ll see you in a few days when we leave.”
“Thank you!” he gives you a quick bow and turns to run down the hallway.
“Good luck!” you call out after him. You watch him run for a moment, before turning back to your current mission of getting something to eat. The halls are quiet, with the comforting sounds of running water, murmuring voices from the classrooms, and the distant sounds of saber blades crashing providing a backdrop to your walk.
You are startled out of your reverie by a voice.
“It’s good to see you smiling again,” Gojo looms from the shadow of a nearby pillar, looking uncharacteristically serious.
“I smile all the time,” you cross your arms defensively, watching Gojo warily as he approaches. Slowly, he walks you backwards, until you hit the smooth stone of a pillar. He plants a big hand on the pillar next to your head, while the other comes up to cup your chin, one thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip.
“Those aren’t real,” he says dismissively. “I missed seeing your smile actually reach your eyes. What were you and my darling apprentice talking about that made you so happy, hmm?”
You know he probably heard you, but you decide to indulge him in whatever game he seems interested in playing today. “He asked me about Dantooine. You know, the trip you asked me to take him on in a few days?”
“Do you miss it that much? That just talking about it makes you glow like this?” he swipes a thumb over the ridge of your cheekbone. His eyes are covered by his blindfold right now, but you can still feel them on you, following every movement of your face.
“It was my first home, Gojo. Of course I miss it,” you uncross your arms and make a conscious effort to relax. “My duties have kept me away for a long time, so it’ll be nice to go back, even if it is only for a few days.”
Reaching out with the Force, you try to get a read on Gojo. He’s closed off at first, but when you make contact he opens himself up to you, just a bit. You get a taste of an anxiety so potent it makes your stomach churn, and the pieces click into place for you.
The last time one of his friends had left on a mission, they didn’t come back.
Sighing, you reach up and thread your fingers through his silky white hair. You scratch gently at the nape of his neck, in the way that makes him practically purr when he seeks you out and throws himself down into your lap, demanding your attention after he gets back from a long mission.
“I know where my duty is, Gojo. It’s just a few days, and then I’ll be back.”
He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll come back.”
“I promise. I’ll make sure your Padawan comes back in one piece too,” you try a joke, attempting to lift the mood a little, but Gojo ignores it. He folds himself down even further, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. You feel more than hear him whisper something as he tightens his arms around you.
You let him stay like that, his tall body folded down to wrap around your smaller one. It’s only when you hear the approaching voices of other Jedi that you begin to untangle yourself from him, pulling your fingers from his hair and pushing at him gently to try and persuade him to let go. He tightens his grip in response, and you swat at the back of his head.
“Gojo! What if they see us?” you hiss at him, pushing more insistently.
“Would that be so bad?” he pulls back a little, just far enough to see your face.
“This is crossing a line and you know it. It would risk both of our positions if someone saw.”
He finally pulls away from you, and the small window he’d opened for you in the Force shuts abruptly. He steps back, putting an appropriate amount of distance between you two, and reaches out to ruffle your hair. “Take care of yourself, starlight,” he says as he walks away, giving you a cheerful two fingered salute as the other Jedi come into view.
You watch him leave for a moment, waiting until he turns a corner before you continue on your way to the kitchens. Your mind is racing, replaying the interaction in your head. It’s not out of the ordinary for Gojo to do this, but it is strange for him to be so clingy out where you could get caught. Normally he seeks you out either early in the morning or late at night, finding you in either your quarters or your small office in the archives, where he occupies as much of your personal space as he can and demands your attention for however much time he can hide away from his responsibilities.
Your mind keeps circling back to the words he whispered into the crook of your neck: “If you don’t come back, I swear I’ll find you.” He’d left the door to his emotions open, but you didn’t need to look to know he’d been talking about you, and also Geto. His regret for not being able to save his best friend in time haunted his steps as closely as his own shadow.
You could feel your own regret begin to creep closer, and you shook yourself physically and mentally. You’d spent enough time thinking about loss and regret today. You grabbed a quick meal from the kitchens and made it to your office, throwing yourself into your work.
That seemed to set the pattern for the week. Yuuta started seeking you out on his own, asking questions about the history of the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, and about the history of the Order in general. It seemed Gojo had taken a very hands on and practical approach to Yuuta’s training; his lightsaber forms and piloting skills had progressed far beyond anyone’s expectations. However, his education was a bit lacking, and you were happy to fill in the gaps and provide the young Padawan with anything he desired, whether it was information, guidance on Force techniques, or simply a quiet place to meditate.
Gojo also began seeking you out more often, pulling you into dark corners just to hold you for a moment in between his meetings and assignments. He laughed off your questions, simply saying that he just wanted to spend time with you before you left. Even though he was demanding your attention in riskier and riskier places, and you knew he was hiding something, you found yourself unable to say no to him. Physical contact was rare amongst the Jedi, touch limited to a friendly hand on the shoulder or a brief touch in passing.
There were moments that you found yourself craving the warmth of Gojo’s touch, the way the world narrowed to just the space of his arms. The more he touched you, the hungrier you felt- you knew you were walking a dangerous line but couldn’t find it in yourself to stop. You reasoned with yourself that it would just be for this week, you’d both get it out of your systems, and then things would go back to normal after you returned from Dantooine. So you let yourself indulge, ignoring the specter of Geto’s words from the last time you’d seen him.
The night before you are set to leave for Dantooine, you wake up in a cold sweat. Your thoughts are a garbled mess, caught halfway between the waking world and dreaming. All you know is that Gojo needs you, right now. You’re still close enough to sleep that the world feels fuzzy at the edges, but you manage to throw a robe over your sleep tunic and make your way out into the dark and empty halls of the Temple. There’s no moon tonight, meaning that the halls are lit only by dim sconces, leaving you to fumble your way in the dark. You can feel Gojo’s presence drawing you in, like the crushing gravity of a black hole.
You make it to his door, tapping out a code that you know so well it’s muscle memory. The door slides open and you practically fall into the room, looking frantically for Gojo. He’s in his bed, locked in the throes of a nightmare that has him convulsing in the thin sheets of his bed. The dim lights of the hallway shine on his sweat-slicked skin, making it gleam like alabaster before the door slides shut again, leaving you in blackness. You let the pull draw you to him, catching yourself on the edge of his bed. You almost fall forward, planting a knee on the edge of the mattress and resting your hands on Gojo’s chest.
“Gojo, wake up,” you call, voice hushed but urgent. When he doesn’t respond, you push harder, shaking him as gently as you can. You open the Force connection between you two, and are rapidly overwhelmed by a deluge of images and sounds. You push through it, using your ability to try and calm the storm that is raging in Gojo’s mind. You catch some flashes of his dream before he wakes, coming to consciousness with a jerk. His eyes snap open, glowing electric blue in the darkness as he activates his powers in a self defense reflex. Your eyes meet for a second, his wide and wild as he begins to register where he is.
He reaches a shaking hand up to you, trembling fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw, the line of your neck, and the delicate wings of your collarbone left exposed by the skewed collar of your sleep tunic. “You’re here,” he breathes, the panicked fight bleeding out of his body. You don’t respond, letting him calm down and also trying to sort through the fragmented flashes of his nightmare you’d seen before he’d woken up.
Your attention is immediately drawn back to him when he sits up, a flash of movement and a blur of motion before you feel your back hit his mattress. His fingers are entwined with yours, pinning one of your hands to the pillow above your head. You can feel his other hand slip beneath your robe, the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of your sleep tunic as he runs his hand up and down your side. He leans down, and his hot breath on the sensitive skin of your neck sends a shiver down your spine.
Gojo nuzzles your neck, tracing the line of it with the tip of his nose. He’s babbling something, but his voice is low enough that even in the quiet of his room you can’t quite hear what he’s saying. He seems to realize this when you stay silent, and he drags his head from the crook of your neck. “Please, let me have you, starlight. I need to feel that you’re alive,” he begs, eyes blown so wide that the luminous blue of his eyes is pushed to a thin ring around the cavernous black of his pupils. A thought echoes in the back of your mind; this is the first time you’ve seen Gojo without his blindfold since Geto fell.
Whatever had pulled you to his room has worn off, leaving you slightly dazed but aware of where you are. You cannot blame it for the feelings welling up under your skin, threatening to burst with each brush of Gojo’s skin. You know that the Code dictates that you should push him off, go back to your room, and meditate to drive this attachment away. You move to do so, and your leg brushes up against him. He makes a punched out sound, caught somewhere in between a filthy moan and a sob. You freeze, hands on his chest.
“Don’t go,” he pleads, voice thick with an emotion you are afraid to put a name to. “Please, starlight, I need you. Let me take care of you.” He drops his head to yours and reaches for one of your hands, pressing it further against his chest. You can feel his heart pounding, racing like the engines of the speeders he loves to fly so much. “Please, stay.”
There are two thoughts at war in your mind. One is the Code, a creed you have had memorized for so long recalling the words is as easy as breathing. You know what the Code dictates, what it demands from you. From both of you. You also know what it has taken from you.
The other is the fact that you are getting a second chance at something you’ve wanted more than anything- a chance to be close to someone you love. That thought stuns you for a second. Geto was your first love, a secret that you buried deep after he fell and swore to never dig up. You’ve been scared to face your feelings for Gojo because of that. You know what your feelings are, but have hidden from them out of fear, fear that they will lead you astray from your duty, from the oath that you swore when you became a Knight.
In the face of Gojo’s desperation, you feel ready to voice those feelings. The closed door and the darkness around you makes you feel bold, finally ready to face a truth you’ve been hiding from for months now. Mind made up, you lean up, closing the scant few inches between the two of you to press your mouth to Gojo’s. He makes a broken sound, his hand moving to cradle your head as he presses closer to devour your mouth. He wastes no time pulling you as close as possible, tongue plundering your mouth.
He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours. He nestles himself between your thighs, hips making small, jerky movements against you, as if he can’t control himself. “It’s been unbearable, starlight,” he moans. “To have you so close and not be able to do anything. If only you knew how often my last thoughts at night are of you. I see signs of you everywhere, and each one makes me crave you in a way I can’t endure.”
Gojo trails kisses from your lips down to your jaw, nipping at the corner of it and tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. His mouth keeps travelling down, biting and sucking at your neck. A soft moan stutters its way out of your mouth, and he shivers against you. “That’s it, starlight. Let me know how good I make you feel,” you feel his breath, cool now against the sheen of saliva on your skin. You feel him bite down, hard enough to leave a mark, just below where the collar of your robes sits against your throat. “There we go,” he murmurs, kissing the mark. “A secret for just us.”
He retreats just far enough to give you space to shed your robe and sleep tunic. He touches every inch of exposed skin, hands and mouth on you like he cannot bear to be separated from you for more than a moment. He moans low in his throat when your breasts are revealed, pushing you back down into the mattress to bury his face in the soft mounds. You moan again as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, the sound high and sweet in the quiet of his room. The vibrations against your nipple of his answering moan make you squirm against him, and you thread a hand in his hair, unsure if you’re trying to keep him close or push him away.
He releases your nipple with a pop, blowing teasingly against the spit slicked peak and laughing low in his throat when you squirm against him again. “You taste so good, starlight. I can’t think about anything else,” he moans against you. He slides a hand down, teasingly dragging his fingers down your skin to your folds, where he swipes a finger through the wetness that he finds at the apex of your thighs. He teases your clit with a finger, tracing nonsensical shapes over it until you’re panting breathlessly underneath him. He slides a finger in, and you cling to him at the sensation of him inside you. He adds a second finger, slowly working you open, moving his fingers and rubbing his thumb over your clit. You can feel something twisting in your gut, a molten heat that spreads from your center to the rest of your body.
“I wish I could do this for longer, but I need to be inside you, starlight,” he murmurs. He brings his hand, still slicked with your wetness, to his shaft. He strokes himself a few times, before lining himself up at your entrance. “Are you ready for me?”
“Yes, Gojo, please,” you beg, dragging your nails gently down his back.
“Say my name,” he growls, pushing into you slowly. There’s a prick of pain as he enters you, but he reaches down to rub your clit and lets you slowly adjust. Once you open your eyes again, he grabs your hand and twines your fingers together, pressing into the pillow next to your head as he starts to move.
“S-satoru!” you cry out, arching your back at the sensation of him inside you.
“That’s it,” he encourages you, using his free hand to hike one of your legs further up on his back, opening you up to him. You can’t control the noises you’re making anymore, clinging onto him as he pounds into you. Gojo doesn’t seem to be faring much better, squeezing your hand and scattering mindless kisses wherever he can reach as he sinks into you. “Come on, cum for me starlight.” He bites at your neck, and with a twist of his thumb on your clit you find yourself coming apart at the seams. Your back arches and you clamp down on him, pulling a deep stuttering groan from his chest. You feel him twitch inside you, and as your body relaxes you feel a rush of warmth inside you. He finishes with a long moan, dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck.
Gojo loops his arms around you and rolls over, letting you rest on his chest. You feel him press a kiss to your hair as he rubs a soothing hand up and down your spine. You move to get up, but his arms stay fixed around you. “Don’t leave,” he begs softly, his wide blue eyes staring up at you from his mussed sheets. You’ve gone this far, you decide. What’s a little further?
“Okay,” you whisper, nestling back down against his chest. He hums happily and pulls you closer, and between the gentle caress of his fingers, the warmth of his skin, and the beat of his heart you find yourself drifting back to sleep. This time, your rest is peaceful, unmarred by dreams of any kind.
You wake early, before the sun has risen. Gojo is still asleep, one arm loosely around your waist. You take in your state of undress, and spend a moment thinking about what to do next. There’s no future for the two of you together. You know this. For that to happen, you would both have to abandon your duty, and you know Gojo is as unlikely to waver in his duty as you are to walk away from yours. However, you can’t bring yourself to regret anything. Slowly, as to not disturb him, you climb out of bed and grab your clothes. You dress quietly and turn back to Gojo before you leave, coming over to stand next to his bed.
“Goodbye, Satoru,” you whisper, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Then, you walk away, shutting the door quietly behind you. You are quiet as you return to your room. There’s not much to do to prep for your trip, but you find what you can do to keep your hands and mind busy in the short time between now and your departure.
Yuuta greets you in the hangar, but seems to sense that you’re not up for conversation this morning. You finish your flight prep together, and take off a little before you’re scheduled to leave. As you leave the hangar, you see a flash of white hair on the ground. You know he’s down there, but you choose not to look, focusing on the sky above you and the stars beyond.
One hyperspace jump later, you and your temporary apprentice land in the Dantooine enclave. Once you step out of the ship, you are greeted by the familiar sights and smells of the first home you can remember. The enclave smells like sunlight on warm grass, and old parchment and ink. It feels like coming home.
You are greeted by Knights you remember from your days in the creche, and introduce Yuuta to them. They are instantly taken by the young boy’s earnest charm, and you leave them to exchange pleasantries for a moment as you walk, taking in the familiar sights. Your comlink buzzes, but you choose to ignore it.
The both of you settle into your new environment quickly. Yuuta blooms like a flower under the doting care of the older archivists who are overseeing your work for the week, and spends every moment he can outside. After the first day, you introduce him to the wonders of the sunburn ointment the archivists of the enclave make for people who spend as much time out in the sun as he has. Your comlink has been buzzing regularly since you arrived, and you’ve taken to leaving it in your quarters, trusting the enclave masters to let you know if any important messages come through for you while you’re in the archives.
Four days into your trip, the enclave gets a ping from a distress beacon deep into the plains. You volunteer to investigate, bringing Yuuta along to help him with his field experience goals. In the interest of urgency, the two of you share one of the enclave’s speeder bikes, and you track the beacon to a grove of blba trees far to the north of the enclave. You leave the speeder bike a safe distance away, and reach out with the Force to try and assess the situation. Strangely, nothing appears when you cast your net, which sends a cold feeling trickling down your spine. Making a sign to Yuuta to be quiet, you approach the grove.
The beacon is embedded in the ground, flashing and beeping in intervals. There are no bodies around it, and after further investigation, not even signs of conflict. Your feeling of dread intensifies; either this is a simple prank or a trap, and your instincts are telling you it’s the latter.
“Hello, little light,” comes a smooth, deep voice from behind you. You straighten, and turn. Geto stands behind you, dappled in light and shadow underneath one of the trees. His hair is longer, and he’s clad in unfamiliar robes. A strange saber hilt is strapped to his waist, though he makes no move to draw it. “I have been waiting for this reunion for a long time. But before we can be properly reacquainted, I must speak to your young friend here.”
Geto turns to Yuuta. “Greetings, young Padawan,” he calls from across the glade. “I am glad to finally meet you. The rumors I have heard about you are simply fascinating.”
You step in between them. “Stay back, Geto,” you warn, hand on your saber.
“I came simply to talk,” he raises his hands in a placating gesture. He looks over your shoulder, where Yuuta is watching warily. “My name is Suguru Geto, young one. My goal is to liberate those blessed by the Force in our wide universe. Those blessed with gifts like ours should have people at our beck and call, instead of being at someone else’s disposal, don’t you agree?”
“We have our gifts to defend the weak,” Yuuta recites, taking a step back.
Geto clicks his tongue. “So new to the Order, and already reciting their scripture. Think, young Padawan, how many more people would we be able to help, to save, if things were different? Don’t you wish Rika could have been saved?”
You hear Yuuta’s gasp, though he tries to hide it. “That’s enough, Geto.” You draw your saber, finger on the ignition. “Don’t make me fight you.”
Geto ignores you, continuing to look at Yuuta. “Will you join me, Yuuta Okkotsu? All I want is to make the galaxy a safer place, one where young ones like you don’t have to become soldiers, and one where girls like Rika simply get to live.”
You hear Yuuta waver. You refuse to sway his emotions- you know this is a choice he must make on his own. He takes a step forward and your heart drops for a moment, before you hear the sound of his saber leaving his belt.
“I’ve heard stories about you too, Suguru Geto,” Yuuta says, leveling his saber at the man. “I’m not sure that your vision for the galaxy is not one that Rika would have wanted to live in.”
“What a shame,” Geto shakes his head. “If you will not join me, then take a message back to your Masters. Either they bring you to Malachor within a month’s time, or I will unleash what I have learned in my time in the shadows on both this enclave and the Temple on Coruscant.”
Your blade ignites with a hiss. “That won’t happen,” you level your blade, the tip pointing steadily at Geto. “Yuuta,” you call the Padawan’s name without breaking eye contact with your former friend. “Take the bike back to the enclave. Tell the Knights there what happened.”
“I can’t leave-” Yuuta begins, but you cut him off.
“Go, Yuuta. It is my duty to protect you and the rest of the enclave. Tell them what happened, and return with reinforcements.” You feel the boy’s emotional conflict, and you use your abilities to bolster his resolve. He hesitates for another moment, before nodding and clipping his saber to his belt.
“I’ll be back for you!” he calls over his shoulder as he darts to the bike. The engine roars to life and you hear him take off over the plains.
The only sounds in the glade now is the wind rustling through the tall grass, and the hum of your lightsaber, still ignited and leveled at one whom you had once sworn never to raise a blade against.
“What a loyal dog,” Geto shakes his head. “This is not quite what I had in mind for our reunion. Though if you insist we come to blows, I will indulge you.” He unclips his strange looking saber from his belt, and the scarlet blade roars to life with a crackle. You set your feet in your stance, lifting your blade to meet his as Geto comes flying at you. There is a sizzle and crackle as the blades cross, sparks flying in your vision as you stop his swing.
You push back, using a blast of Force energy to break his guard and swing at his weak spot. He manages to leap out of the way of your blow, his robes fluttering on the wind. Your blades crash together, his scarlet saber crackling with a strange energy. It shoots off sparks that burn your hands and face, and you find yourself on your back foot, trying to guard against his powerful swings.
In an attempt to regain some ground, you take a risk and drop under one of his swings, the sparking blade flying just past the top of your head. As you stand up, you position your saber in the path of his momentum, hoping that you’ll at least be able to wound him.
Geto chuckles. In a flash, he’s caught your saber hand, twisting your sword arm off to the side as his momentum carries you both to the ground. “I taught you that move, little light. I appreciate your resolve, but I will not be felled by such a trick.”
You watch his gaze drift lower, to where the collar of your robes has loosened. “Oh, what’s this, little light?” his free hand nudges aside your collar, revealing the shadow of the mark Gojo had left on you several nights before. “Who could have left this on you, little light?”
Geto powers off the saber he has held to your throat so he has clear access to your neck. He leans down, delicately sniffing along the skin that still bears the marks from your night of passion. “It was our dear friend Satoru, wasn’t it? I can practically smell him on you,” Geto purrs. “I did tell you to indulge, I suppose. I wish you would have waited, I wanted to indulge in you first.”
“What’s your game, Geto?” you ask. You wiggle your fingers, trying to subtly get a grasp on the hilt of your saber.
He clucks his tongue at you. “Now now, none of that,” he grabs your saber and clips it to his own belt, out of your reach. “I told you my plan- I want the boy. I’ve given those fools at the Temple everything they need: a reason to doubt a boy they already fear, and now I have you. You think Satoru wouldn’t give up that little apprentice of his to get you back?” Geto strokes a hand down your neck, pressing his thumb into the healing bruise just under your collar.
“I suppose the question now is, would I give you back for one apprentice?” he muses, looking down at you. He slides his hand up, grasping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “There’s something about you that just makes me want to keep you, my plan be damned. I doubt you’d mind, you’d just be trading one pretty tower for another. Either way, you’re very important to what happens next, and I can’t have you trying anything that would only end up hurting you. So, sleep, little light. You’ll want the energy for what comes next.”
Geto’s smile is the last thing you see before your eyes close, the power of the Force command dragging you under. You feel him lifting you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin, and then the darkness takes you.
Content warnings: none, just fluff. No pronouns used for the reader; i I tried to keep them gender neutral. Diluc uses German endearments for the reader (ex. liebling, mein schatz).
Title taken from the song I was listening to while writing- Love to Keep Me Warm by laufey and dodie.
Just a quick drabble to make myself feel better about it being snowy and cold as balls. Hope you enjoy <3
As usual, minors and ageless blogs dni.
You’re roused from your sleep by quiet footfalls and the clank of metal. You rub the sleep from your eyes and look out from your nest of blankets to see Diluc hang his claymore on its hook by the wall. He turns to the wardrobe and starts shedding his layers, starting with his signature black coat.
“Diluc? What time is it?” you ask sleepily, sitting up in bed.
“Too early for you to be awake,” he replies, walking over to the bed to cup your chin in his big hand and press a warm kiss to your forehead. You shiver at the chill that still clings to his skin, turning your head to kiss his palm. You see him smile in the dark. “Go back to sleep, liebling. I’ll join you shortly.”
You nod, before you realize he probably can’t see the movement in the dark. “Okay,” you sigh, settling back down into your pile of blankets. “Hurry up though, I missed you.”
The water starts in the bathroom, and you fall into a light doze to the sound of running water. You’re woken from your slumber by the feeling of your blankets shifting. Diluc picks up an armful of blankets and moves them to the low sofa at the foot of your bed, and you whine in protest.
“If I don’t move them, there’s no room for me in the bed,” he says in response to your protests. Once the bed is somewhat clear, he slides underneath the covers. You cross your arms over your chest and pout, the expression deepening as he laughs quietly at you. “Come here, liebling. Let me keep you warm.”
His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close, and you bury your face in his chest. You sigh happily as you sink into his plush pecs and his body heat surrounds you. You feel him laugh softly as he runs one big hand up and down your spine.
“Am I forgiven for moving your blankets?” Diluc asks, surrendering to the urge to lean down and press a kiss to the top of your sleep rumpled hair.
“Yes, as long as you don’t move for the next eight hours,” you retort, voice muffled against his chest.
He huffs another laugh. “I won’t, liebling,” he murmurs, continuing to trace the line of your spine through your soft sleep shirt. Gradually, he feels your breathing even out under his ministrations, and your quiet snore brings a soft smile to his face. “Sweet dreams, mein schatz,” he whispers, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple.
With your comforting weight in his arms, he relaxes against the pillows and lets sleep claim him. The two of you slumber peacefully, blissfully unaware as the sun slowly rises, casting golden light over the creeping frost.
