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kbwrites · 11 months ago

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Devotion

synopsis: Sukuna discovers Uraume’s hidden desire for his wife. Amused and intrigued, he twists their devotion into a dangerous game of seduction and control, where loyalty, lust, and power collide..

⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x f!reader, nsfw, slight Uraume x reader, power play, sukuna being sadistic, voyeurism

⚝wc: 3.2k

⚝a/n: guys am I slowly turning into a Sukuna glazer? Is that what’s happening?

“Uraume.”

“Yes, master?”

“Have you had…lovers before?”

Ryomen leaned forward over the dining table, his crimson eyes sharp with mischief, resting his chin lazily on his hand. One of his upper arms reached for the delicate porcelain cup, lifting it to his lips as he took a sip, all while gauging Uraume’s reaction with predatory precision. Uraume, ever composed, took a deep breath—perhaps steadier than expected, but not beyond Sukuna’s notice.

“No, my lord. I am only loyal to you.”

Sukuna could only chuckle darkly at his most trusted advisor’s iron resolve.

“Surely you’ve been attracted to someone before.”

It’s subtle, but Sukuna noticed how Uraume’s body tensed at the question.

“Thats…”

His eyebrow quirks in amusement, the thought of them finding interest in anything other than servitude absolutely intriguing.

“Oh?” He purrs “Tell me Uraume, who’s captured your interest?”

Uraume pauses, their mouth slightly agape about to answer until the doors to the dining hall swing open.

“Good morning~” You yawn strutting into the grand hall. Ryomen’s ears perk up at the sound of your voice. You were draped in a black silk robe, loosely fitting to reveal your cleavage. He didn’t miss the way Uraume suddenly went rigid, their spine straightening as though an unseen force had pulled them taut.

“My lady..” Uraume says quietly, bowing deeply, far lower than usual. There was a slight tremor in their voice, one that would be imperceptible to anyone else, but to Sukuna, it was as clear as day.

Something flickered in Sukuna’s eyes—something dark, cunning, and hungry. He was beginning to connect the threads. Uraume’s abnormal stillness, their faltering words, their body language—how had he not seen it before?

As a light bulb switched off in his mind. Sukuna’s eyes darken as his mind swirls with ideas.

“Good morning, peach.” he purred, his voice a rich, velvety drawl as he pushed his chair back slightly, creating space between his thick thighs. You settle between him, his lower arm wrapping securely around your waist. Your fingers plucked a few of the fruits, and with a mischievous smile, you lifted them to his lips. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed as he accepted your offering, his lips brushing your fingertips as he took the grapes from your hand, savoring the taste.

“Did you sleep well?” he hummed, his voice a rumble that reverberated through your body, his grip on your waist tightening.

Uraume was trying so hard to maintain their composure, but Sukuna was a master at unraveling even the most tightly wound strings. He didn’t miss the lingering gaze, the subtle admiration—the longing in Uraume’s eyes as they glanced at you.

You smiled softly, nodding as you fed him another grape. “I did.”

The room felt charged with an unspoken tension. Sukuna’s gaze flitted between you and Uraume.

“Uraume was just about to tell us something…” Sukuna chuckled, his voice a deep, velvet purr dripping with dark amusement.

“Weren’t you, Uraume?”

The words rolled off his tongue like a challenge, low and sultry, and Uraume flinched ever so slightly. Their mouth opened, but no sound emerged, their composure threatening to crack under the weight of Sukuna’s relentless gaze.

Uraume’s adams apple bobbed as they swallowed hard, their hands clenching at their sides. They looked as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to jump or retreat. Their gaze flicked to yours—full of something raw and unspoken—before they quickly averted their eyes again, their face flushing.

“Yes…” Uraume managed, voice tight. “The preparations for the festival next week are complete. I thought it would be a good outing for you, my lady.”

You perked up, Ryomen knew how much you loved going outside the castle. And even though he despised being among the general public he never chastised you for it.

He shifted in his chair, his arm still wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer against him.

“An outing…” Sukuna mused, his voice low and thoughtful, malicious intent danced in his eyes. “How delightful.”

“Would you come this time Ryo?” You asked, eyes turning up to him with that innocent, pleading look he could never refuse.

His gaze flicks up to Uraume. He saw the way Uraume’s shoulders tensed, the way they remained painfully still. Sukuna could feel Uraume’s silent plea—don’t come. Don’t make this harder than it already is. But Sukuna, ever the sadist, felt the opposite.

His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile as he looked down at you. “How could I say no when you ask so sweetly, peach?” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.

༺═────────────═༻

As the days slipped by, Sukuna’s amusement only deepened. What had once seemed like gestures of loyalty and respect from Uraume now held a different meaning altogether. The signs were there—delicate and unspoken, but there nonetheless.

He watched closely, sharper now, how Uraume’s hands lingered just a moment longer than necessary when adjusting your robes, or the way their fingers brushed your skin with a softness that would have seemed impossible for a being so devoted to carrying out the King of Curses’ bidding. Uraume, so effortlessly deadly, became something else entirely when in your presence—gentle, careful. As though you were made of glass. And Sukuna saw it all.

Of course, Ryomen Sukuna knew how captivating his wife was. You were beauty incarnate—graceful, magnetic, and utterly enchanting. He had always reveled in the way your presence could command a room, how your smile could make the world feel warmer. It wasn’t lost on him how others admired you, but he had never paid it much attention. You were his. That had never been up for debate.

The thought of his most trusted advisor being captivated by you was both amusing and intriguing. To think that Uraume, who had stood by his side through countless battles, who had remained steadfast and loyal through the bloodiest of wars, was not immune to your charm—it was almost laughable. But it was more than that. It was a game, a deliciously cruel game that Sukuna couldn’t resist playing.

༺═────────────═༻

It was bath time, the air thick with steam, curling up in soft tendrils around the marble walls of the grand bathhouse. You and Sukuna sat on opposite ends, your legs grazing one another beneath the surface. Uraume carefully washed your hair, applying the perfect amount of pressure when scratching your scalp.

Sukuna watched from his end of the tub, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he observed the way Uraume tended to you—so gentle, so precise. It was the kind of attention a lover would give, not merely an attendant.

You, of course, were oblivious. Your eyes were closed, soft hum of contentment escaping your lips as Uraume’s deft fingers massaged your scalp. The warmth of the bath relaxing you, Sukuna could see the soft smile tugging at your lips, unaware of the turmoil that brewed just beneath the surface.

“Uraume?” You question softly “Did those oils you ordered from Kuroshiki arrive yet? I think Ryo would like them today.”

“Yes…” Uraume says snapping out of their daze “I will fetch them right away my lady.”

“Bathing with fragrance oil? You really do spoil me” Sukuna says smirking.

You leaned closer to him, your fingers lightly trailing along the edge of the tub as you spoke, voice soft and inviting. “You seem… distracted as of late, my king,” you murmured, “I wish you would tell me what was occupying your mind.

A dark chuckle rumbled from his broad chest as he shifted slightly, adjusting his position as his crimson eyes traveled over your face, lingering on the way your wet hair clung to your skin and how the water caressed your naked form beneath the surface.

“My dear,” he purred, his voice low and smooth, “If I’m distracted, it’s only because of you.” He let the words hang in the air, his gaze darkening as he watched your reaction, the tension between you palpable.

Your lips curled into a slow, teasing smile, and you raised a brow, tilting your head as you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest.

Ryomen’s hand shot out, snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against him, your breath catching in your throat as you found yourself pressed up against his chest. His other hand trailed lazily through the water, his fingers skimming along your thigh just beneath the surface. Your heart raced, the warmth of the bath and the heat of his touch intertwining, making it difficult to think clearly.

“And you, my queen…” Sukuna’s voice rumbled with a dark edge, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as he spoke. “What has been occupying your mind?”

Your breath hitched as you felt his lips graze your skin, the sensation sending a wave of heat through you. You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck, your lips parting as you replied, your voice soft and laced with desire. “Only you, my king. Always you.”

“Good,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I like to know where your thoughts are.”

Just as the moment seemed to deepen, the door to the bathhouse creaked open. Uraume entered with their usual calm, carrying a small, ornate jar of oils. The soft clink of the jar being set down on the table was like a loud intrusion into your private world. Uraume cleared their throat, the sound sharp in the silence.

“My lady, my lord,” Uraume announced quietly, their eyes briefly meeting yours before darting away, their cheeks flushing slightly with the strain of maintaining composure.

You pull yourself away from your husband back to your side of the tub, smiling politely.

“Thank you Uraume.”

Sukuna’s expression darkened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he observed Uraume. His earlier pleasure was replaced by a simmering frustration, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the timing of the intrusion.

They bowed respectfully, eyes fixed on the floor as they took their leave. The door clicked shut behind them, and the room fell into an uneasy silence.

As the two of you settled back, Sukuna’s thoughts were already racing ahead. He decided he would push Uraume’s resolve to the breaking point, manipulate their emotions, and watch with dark satisfaction as their carefully constructed façade crumbled. Sukuna was eager to see how far he could push his most loyal servant before they fell apart.

The morning light seeped through the dark curtains of your shared bedroom. Sukuna sat up, his muscular back pressed against the dark mahogany headboard as he watched you.

His eyes, sharp and intent, traced the curve of your body as you slept. The way your body stirred against the black silk sheets, the fabric of your sleep robe slipped off your shoulders—revealing more and more of your skin with every rise and fall of your chest. His own arousal growing at the mere sight of you.

He leaned down to you, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone. One arm snaked up to your chest, slipping under your robe to caress your breast. You whimpered in your sleep, squirming under his large hands.

“Ryo?” You question, eyes still closed as you feel the warmth of his palms set fire to your cool skin. Your body responding to him almost instinctively, heat pooling in your core as his touch deepened, awakening a familiar hunger within you.

“Awake already, peach?” he murmured against your skin. The sound of his voice alone—low, gravelly, and undeniably seductive—vibrated through you, making your breath hitch.

You hum as your back instinctively arches into his touch.

“Don’t you have… ahhh. Meetings in the morning?”

“Mmm.” he purred in acknowledgment, peeling the robe off of your body. “It can wait. There’s something far more�� compelling… that’s caught my attention.”

Your body shivers slightly as Ryomen removes the covers, he drinks in the sight before him. Removing his mouth from your neck, before dipping his head between your legs.

He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your dripping cunt. Ryomen flattens his tongue, the wet muscle circling your bundle of nerves. His two upper arms hold your thighs in place, nails digging into the plush flesh. The room fills with your sleepy moans and whimpers as The king of curses slurps up your essence. He latches onto your clit, sucking while his tongue swirls.

You grab tufts of his fluffy pink hair between your manicured fingers, tugging gently. He looked up at you through half lidded eyes, smirking against your cunt as you grind against his face.

You felt the pressure building in your core, Sukuna felt your heart quicken—continuing his ministrations. Just as you felt the dam about to break.

Knock knock

Ryomen let out a low growl, the vibration rumbling through your cunt. He reluctantly tore his face away from between your legs.

“What is it?” His voice laced with venom.

“It’s me, my lord.”

He pauses, gaze flicking between the door and your panting form. An idea pops into his mind.

“Come in.” Sukuna muses, his voice smooth and deliberate.

Your eyes shot open, widening in shock as the doorknob slowly began to turn. Panic flooded your veins, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what he intended. You tried to push against him, but Sukuna’s grip was ironclad, his body pinning yours down against the silken sheets.

“Ryo, please!” you whispered urgently, your heart racing as you felt the weight of the moment closing in on you, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. But your pleas only seemed to excite him further. Sukuna’s smirk deepened, a cruel chuckle escaping his lips.

Uraume stepped into the room, eyes respectfully downcast, holding a scroll of parchment.

“My lord, I—”

But the words died on their lips the moment they finally looked up. Uraume stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the scene before them.

“Ah, Uraume!” Sukuna drawled, his voice full of amusement. “You may speak.”

“I-if this is not a good time—“

Ryomen chuckles, his hand snaking up to give your tit a gentle squeeze. Rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You bite back a whimper.

“Nonsense! Continue.” He says, gaze never leaving you.

Uraume glances at you, their eyes raking over your form. They had dressed and bathed you countless times. However nothing could quite compare to the way your skin glistened with sweat, chest heaving as you tried to regain a steady heartbeat. They way your eyes were nearly black, glazed over with pleasure. They shouldn’t feel this way… they couldn’t and yet it was impossible to ignore the growing heat, the tightening coil as Uraume saw you in your most vulnerable state.

“Speak, Uraume,” Sukuna commanded again, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He relished in the discomfort radiating from his loyal servant, the way their breath quickened and their hands trembled ever so slightly at their sides.

“U-Uraume… you don’t have to listen to him.” You manage to mumble, trying to separate your rational mind from the pleasure your husbands fingers were giving you.

“Oh? But darling Uraume wants to see this.” He purrs. “Don’t you Uraume?”

They want to go, to turn on their heels and walk—no run quickly, and far away from the both of you. But every movement—every verbal protest failed to ever come to fruition. All Uraume could do in that moment. Was watch.

Watch as you writhed under their master, as your supple skin they so tirelessly cared for was marked. As your aching cunt was toyed with, as the saccharine moans fell from your plump lips.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you glance at Uraume, who watched intently as Ryomen gathered the wetness from your folds and his index finger was slowly swallowed by your walls. The lewd noises your sloppy cunt uttered as he pumped slowly into you—like sweet music. He grinned maliciously as he felt you clench around his finger. Despite your earlier protest—he knew you were enjoying this as much as him.

You bit down on your lip, stifling your moans as he curled his finger up to your sweet spot.

“Don’t hold back, peach…” He hums as he inserts another finger. “Let them hear how good it feels.”

Uraume’s breath hitches again, body tensing even more as they watch your every move from the sidelines. Sukuna’s gaze falls on your hand, gripping the silk sheets for support. His eyebrow quirks as another idea pops into his head.

“Hold her hand, Uraume.” He commands softly. Their eyes widen briefly before following his command. Uraume’s hand wraps gently around yours, intertwining fingers. Their breath is heavier now, cheeks flushed with color.

You finally make eye contact with Uraume, looking up at them through half-lidded eyes. You had never seen them like this, such hunger in their dark pink gaze. Looking upon you with pure lust. It made your cunt clench even more around your husband’s fingers.

Ryomen continues his assault on your sopping hole, pumping in and out relentlessly. Every time his curled digits brushed against your g-spot you feel the all too familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen.

“Ryo! m’close…” You whine softly looking down at him. He only grins in response glancing at his advisor.

“Don’t tell me.” He growls “Tell Uraume how you feel.”

Tears now pricked your eyes, the overwhelming sensation proving too much for you. You look up at Uraume through wet lashes.

“U-Uraume… I’m fuckkk gonna cum!” You whimper, they don’t respond—instead squeezing your hand tighter as they struggle to breathe.

Sukuna smirks as his wife and most trusted attendant share the intimate eye contact. His own cock twitching in excitement.

“Uraume…” he hums in mockery “She’s right on the edge, should we give her what she wants?”

Their eyes flit between you and Sukuna, feeling dizzy with pleasure. You looked so needy, so desperate for release. They couldn’t deny you any longer. They needed to see you come undone.

“P-please Uraume.” You choke out—hiccuping as fat tears rolled down your face. “Can’t take much more!”

Uraume lets out a shaky breath, their gaze never leaving yours.

“Y-yes! Please my lord!” Their voice almost matching your own desperation.

And with one more thrust of his thick fingers your body shakes. You cry out in pleasure. Writhing as Uraume’s nails dig into the flesh of your hand, holding your hand in a vice grip. A gasp escaping their lips.

Sukuna slowly removes his fingers from you, bringing them up to Uraume’s face teasingly before sucking them clean of your slick. A silent reminder that you would always be his.

Sukuna and Uraume fix their gaze on you, sprawled out on the sheets, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He glances over at them, noticing how their lips were parted. How their eyes were glued to you. As if they dared to blink you would disappear.

“She’s beautiful… isn’t she Uraume?” He purrs, lightly tracing the curves of your body.

“Yes master… she is… perfect.”

#kbwrites #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #uraume #uraume x reader

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bnyf · 4 months ago

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baby you're my bunny ♡

╭﹕୨୧﹒ bunny boy x female reader

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, slight body horror me thinks? slight horror, perverted yandere, non consensual touching, suggestive, uhhh that's it me thinks :3

╰﹕୨୧﹒ authoress note : so sorry if it's badly written also sorry if it ends weird :/

no survival instinct what's-so-ever. like... none.

but he was not complaining! it was just a mere observation. perhaps you were unaware of your allure, maybe you were not exposed to the cruel world yet, didn't know how sick people and creatures can be.

well for one... your little secret admirer was not one of those adorable bunnies you'd fawn over, nothing even close really. and no, he's not some cute boy with a bunny tail and some bunny ears. he's far from cute, a little scary actually.

humanoid? sure! typical bunny boy hybrid, uhhhh not really lol! he's mixed with human genetics but he's not quit. and for a bunny hybrid, he sure had a lot of predator instincts.

to put simply, he was an abnormality of mother nature. his lower half resembled a bunny whilst his torso and up is that of a man. his claws on his feet or paws or whatever are dangerously long, digging into the dirt whenever he walks, leaving behind a "too small to notice unless your looking for it" trail.

a muscular, lean build, biceps so perfect and manly hands to hold you down if you even ever think of escaping, awe how sweet of him <3

completely pale skin with small patches of equally pale fur in various spots, completely crimson, blood shot eyes and a pair of floppy bunny ears where any normal human's ears would be.

how did he even came to be? you may ask. well he was a normal boy, once upon a time. but one day, he'd gotten into a serious accident, a near death life experience. that day he could've hear the bells of heaven ringing in his ears but he wasn't ready to die, not like this... in his head he begged for more time, asking whatever god above to answer his prayers.

and yeah! his prayers where answered but, as they say, be careful what you wish for...

the moon goddess answered his prayers, but she also cursed him for it is the price he must pay to live longer.

"i grant you more time, as much time as you may need, but for as long as you roam his earth, your soul belongs to me and your purpose, is to server me," her voice rang in his ears like a bittersweet melody before he'd lose consciousness.

when he awake, he found himself in the mountains, he was a monstrosity of a man and dared not step a foot into society. he's to bare this curse and blessing till death.

he became easily bored and clueless as to what to do next, his every day life felt null and everything felt too much to bare. his eternity just began yet he dreads his mistake with every passing day.

"maybe, i should of just accepted my faith and die that day..."

with nothing and no one, he was left to wonder the mountain and serve the goddess by praying to her and tending to her shrine everyday, he's trapped to keep her energy going so she won't become a forgotten god.

(guys i made the lore up on a whim so bare with me even i'm confused right now :0)

anyways! everything drastically changed for our boy here when you and your family decided to move to the village nearby in the rural area, and live a peaceful life and just run a nice little farm hooray! hopefully, you don't get stalked and preyed on by a lonely scarily tall bunny male hybrid who looks like a utterly angelic, celestial eldritch horror, right?

all he could think about was a pretty girl had moved in next door and he just had to watch her from afar. most the villagers were very welcoming of you and your family, it was big talk because such a pretty girl had just moved in the small village and all the villagers wanted their sons or grandsons to get married.

it doesn't have much young people, mostly elders and young children and even less marriageable women. which is why you easily became popular, with everyone always gifting you things, begging you to marry into their family. they even had a town welcome celebration for you and your family!

he watched everything from afar. feeling a slight sting in his chest. jealous? already? of course he is, he wanted you all for himself. for countless nights, he just couldn't sleep at all.

he spent all his time admiring you from afar. the way he'd blush, his heart beat fastening, the gears in his head would just slow down a bit. gosh, he actually felt his heart warm so much it'd burn in his chest.

he wanted you badly.

you were his new source of entertainment, motivation and inspiration all in one and his mind was melting with how needy he started becoming.

"what the f- she's so kind and pretty..."

"i wanna hug her, wanna kiss her, feel her skin on mine, love her, fuck her."

"she can be my little bunny princess~"

"wonder what our babies would look like? i'm getting heated just thinking about it"

it didn't help much when he found out you adored bunnies and would play with them near the spring. fawning over the little fluffy creatures, hugging them and petting them. and when you held them in your arms and give smooches while rubbing your face on their fluffy fur?!?!?

that's where his obsession becomes almost to much to bare, his entire chest area felt so warm watching you treat those bunnies with so much love.

"everything about her is so perfect, i'm starting to crave her like crazy right now."

"wanna whisk her away, take her, lock her up and keep her all to myself."

his mind starts getting clouding with so many dark thoughts of you.

and so, he start pushing boundaries and going outside his comfort zone to appease his little appetite that consist of you. at night, he sneaks in to steal a closer glance at you and probably a few things so he can remember your scent properly.

the whole house was dark, the whole village asleep by the time it was midnight hour. he'd manage to get in somehow somewhere but when he did, he immediately went to your room.

finally. he could smell and touch you as much as he wanted, his mind was actually in ecstasy when he entered your room, your scent gracing his nostrils as soon as he did, and the poor touch starved male couldn't hold back on touching you various parts of your skin.

"how delightful, her skin is so smooth and her hair feels so good, she smells like flowers all over gosh so fucking perfect, i wanna devour her, drink her up, chew her, spit her out and do it all over again" with every slight movement you make and whimper scaping your soft lips, he can't help but hold back his own voice, he wanted to moan just by being around you, it felt so good.

after so long, why wouldn't it feel great?

to be around around someone for once, to feel the heat of another person's body, the sweet scent of someone else other than himself. he'd lay in bed with you, his larger self cuddling your smaller form as smells your hair, trailing his hands all over you.

he was getting ahead of himself.

it takes everything within him to not proceed and do something to you while in your sleep. his morals along with his sanity were drifting away more and more.

time flies by when you're enjoying yourself, before he knew it he had to leave before the sun raises. forcing himself he does but he also takes like 5 things from you.

"promise i'll return your belongings my love, i just need a little souvenir to help myself with."

the poor thing gets sent into an early heat after that little interaction. he's embarrassed a little but he really needs you, like he really does. and he thinks of ways of introducing himself but... he's a monster, you would run from him and be scared. and when that thought comes to mind it makes him... sad.

"if i'd die that day, i'd never meet her, never be able to see her, but now that i'm alive with the help of the moon goddess, i can't even act normal about her. it's like i'm truly doomed."

this realization was tough. it made him sick to think about. and for a while, he was just okay with sneaking in to see you, and holding your unconscious body but he wanted a lot more, and he wanted your acceptance and love. he wanted you to want him the way he wants you.

it hurt even more when he mistakenly glanced in the mirror only to see a 6 feet tall, half human half hybrid bunny with a deadly eerie looking bloody stare, stare right back at him.

the pale moonlight leaking on him, hitting his skin almost making it look silver.

"she'd surely fear me, she'd run."

he's such a beautiful tragedy. would you be able to appreciate that?

#yandere x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere writing #yandere blog #yandere x y/n #yanderecore #soft yandere

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wyvernest · 2 years ago

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mating szn

part 1 (part2)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.

Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning.

"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.

You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.

"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased.

He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck.

He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.

You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.

He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.

"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.

He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.

The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.

Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.

When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.

He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.

Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.

And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress.

He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.

His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.

"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions.

He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him.

All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear.

With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.

"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go.

And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.

His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips.

He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.

Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.

"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)

You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.

Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.

"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.

He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.

He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.

He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it.

And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts.

You're ovulating.

Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.

He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.

"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."

Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.

His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.

But you want to see more of how needy he is.

You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.

Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.

divider by @cafekitsune

HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️

a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.

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justanotherbirdbrain-blog · 2 years ago

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Geology of Natural Disasters and How to write them into your fictional universe.

So, you want to write about a natural disaster to advance your plot and torture your players/characters even more? Let me tell you how, accurately.

I feel like unless it is a volcano, natural disasters are a pretty slept on plot drivers, and some of them are really cool and unique! Today, I will talk to you about land slides, earthquakes (And earthquake related disasters), and volcanoes.

Landslides: Probably one I see the least in stories, but one that would be incredibly interesting to write into a plot where they believe in curses. Landslides can happen along ocean bluffs, slightly hilly areas, and highly mountainous areas, this means it is something that can happen in most landscapes. But what can trigger a landslide? Mostly all you need to trigger a landslide could be just abnormally large amounts of rain, excessive deforestation (with a little bit of rain), or an earthquake. If you don't want to use deforestation or an earthquake as a catalyst, a really cool indicator that the land is slipping and may be prone to a collapse is J hooked trees.

This indicates that there is soil creeping slowly over time, and it may lead to a major landslide.

2. Earthquakes: Probably one of the easiest things to write, earthquakes can happen anywhere, but they are most common in places that are tectonically active areas. There are about three types of environments you can expect earthquakes to be common. The first is just rugged mountains, if your landscape looks like this, you should write in earthquakes. Associated hazards could be landslides, avalanches, and large falling rocks.

The next landscape could be a thin mountain range, next to the ocean, very scenic, but very dangerous. Essentially, I am describing a subduction zone environment.

Earthquakes in these areas could equal a couple different associated disasters. Scenario one: A very large earthquake happens, and the ocean begins to recede. This is a tsunami, enough said. If you are writing a tsunami though, please, please, do not write it as a large wave, thank you. Also, a common way people are hurt by tsunami's are from them going into the ocean because they don't understand a tsunami is going to happen.

Scenario two: A large earthquake happens, your characters are in a valley and suddenly the ground begins to liquify as the ground shakes, once the shaking stops, the ground becomes solid like nothing ever happened, except everything has suddenly sunk into the now hard ground. This is called liquefaction and it typically happens in areas that have loose dirt or lots of saturated soil.

Scenario three: There are a lot of small earthquakes, they do not cause a lot of damage, but you begin to notice that one of the isolated mountains has a plume rising. Earthquakes can indicate lava moving underground and the filling of magma chambers.

The next environment that can host lots of earthquakes would be regions that have a lot of really deep valleys and small mountain ranges (not cone volcanoes), but overall seems pretty flat.

This indicates a transform fault like the San Andreas. If you want to hint at there being earthquakes in the area, you can show fence posts that are suddenly several feet out of line at a dilapidated farm or something similar.

(These earthquakes are different because they are cased from sideways movement, not an up-and-down movement this hint can only be used for this environment). Volcanoes would not be found here, but liquefaction and landslides could still occur here.

4. Volcanoes: If you thought earthquakes had a lot of information, volcanoes do too. First you have to ask yourself, what kind of volcano you want to have, what kind of eruption style? So lets break down the kind of eruptions you can have and what their landscapes look like. Hawaiian Shield volcano: This will produce a smooth fast lava, the landscape typically is pretty flat, but there will be small cones and the rocks can have a ropey or jagged texture and the rocks will be almost exclusively black to dark red.

Stratovolcanoes: These will be solitary mountains, typically, that look like perfect cones (Picture shown in earthquake section). These will have large ash cloud eruptions and pyroclastic flows, they may have some lava, but typically most damage is done from the pyroclastic flows (think Pompeii). Some hints of these, other than describing the cone features (which can be hidden by other mountains), would be to talk about petrified wood! Trees can get fossilized in the ash and I imagine it would be very strange to find this rock that clearly looks to be a piece of wood, but its a rock. Subcategory- Calderas: Used to be a large stratovolcano, but they erupt so explosively that the entire cone collapses and creates a basin.

There are a lot of kinds of volcanoes out there, so forgive me for just putting an infographic and then talking to you about these really rare types of eruptions that I feel like people should know about.

Okay lets talk about blue lava (kind of) and black lava

You will notice the lava is still red in the middle of this image, during the day these would look like a normal eruption, but at night the burning sulfur would make it appear blue. Some cool features other than this, would be that any water in the area would become very acidic and burn the skin due to sulfuric acid. This would again be really cool if you are trying to describe a 'cursed' land.

Black lava: This happens only in the east African rift I believe, but it is a carbonatite lava, but if you are writing in a rift valley (where the continent is tearing apart to form a new ocean) this might be a cool feature. The lava will cool white and will quickly erode, it makes for a very alien landscape!

Anyway as always, this is supposed to be an introductive guide for the basics of writing geology to create cool landscapes/features into dnd or fictional universes, if you are a geologist please understand my oversimplification of tectonics, I didn't want people to run away.

#geology #rocks #stem #dnd #dnd worldbuilding #worldbuilding stuff #fictional world #worldbuilding #fictional writing #writing resources #creative writing

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muletia · 8 months ago

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✧˖° 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞

[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader

summary: optimus deals with feelings that, even for him, are way powerful and dangerous

cw: suggestive themes, angst, hardcore pinning, optimus is fucking obsessed with you, obsessive thoughts, yandere?? optimus i guess, bro is down bad for you

word count: 995

He was doing it again.

Optimus is a calculated being. He didn’t make rash decisions, never threw words to the wind. Every action he took had meaning; none were purposeless or born of impulse or whim. He was crafted to be the perfect leader, to guide thousands, millions. He was supposed to be an authority, the alpha and omega, someone to be respected, admired, and followed. But there was one creature who turned his philosophy upside down and broke his facade.

He blinked once, twice. His optics returned to reading the report on the datapad. However, not even ten seconds of focus passed—a return to being the Prime—and his attention was anchored somewhere else again.

He couldn’t tell anymore, was he doing it on purpose or automatically? A force stronger than him, stronger than Primus himself, was pulling his optics toward that one being capable of breaking him. In the presence of this rare power, he was truly defenseless, revealing to everyone close to him the truth of his feelings, the intensity of which surpassed his wildest expectations. They had grown beyond his control, fierce and unyielding, like a wild beast impossible to tame.

He knew it was inappropriate, and unfitting for you and his friends; he should have restrained the beast before it became a problem. But he hadn’t. He had failed, and another burden had taken residence on his shoulders.

You laughed, and his optics instantly shifted to you. His spark throbbed pleasantly, distracting him from tormenting his very being. He adored that sound, rejoicing every time he heard it. It was melodic, soothing, and calming. In an instant, it tamed his chaotic processor, now focused solely on you, the real you. Optimus observed every smile, frown, and wrinkle on your face with great curiosity, even though he had done it countless times. He watched your chest rise and fall, counting how many breaths you took in a minute. He searched for any abnormalities or signs of illness. Nothing escaped his attention.

He already knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on the report. Not when you were so close to him, when he knew there was a microscopic chance you’d start a conversation with him. You’d honor him and look at him, too. He didn't dare to ask for more. He longed, but he knew he couldn’t allow himself that—at least not now. For the sake of keeping an image, he still held the datapad in his hand, but his thoughts were circling around you.

You were discussing something with Miko about a topic he didn’t understand, related to Earth’s video games. For some time now, he had planned to gather knowledge about them, so he could have conversations with you beyond his comfort zone, aligned with your interests. He wanted to be more approachable, and friendly, enticing you to spend more time with him. Amidst the stream of words, he caught a single one, which he assumed was a title, and made a mental note to study it later. Would you be happy to see him as someone worth talking to? Would you smile, let him hold you on his servo or shoulder? Help ease a processor constantly focused on unknowns and daydreams?

Content simply to be in your presence, yet fantasizing about something deeper, more intimate, he was still intently watching you. He had drifted so far from shore that he acknowledged Jack's and Rafael’s greetings a second too late. He nodded to the kids and briefly watched as they climbed onto the couch beside you. You had a way with children, caring for them, and helping with their school projects, but most importantly, you were their friend. Seeing you surrounded by children had an effect on Optimus—a feeling he was even frightened to contemplate because it easily took over him, pulling him away from reality, creating visions that would never come true, no matter how much he wanted them to.

"You are crossing the line," he reminded himself, fully aware that he had crossed it long ago. The cup had overflowed; there was no going back. Primus, he had just daydreamed about having offspring with a different species.

The truth was, despite all the self-flagellation, despite the hatred for what he had become, the ruin he had brought upon himself, he didn’t want to stop. You were a pleasant distraction from the war, death, and suffering that had accompanied him since becoming Prime, and for now, he didn’t plan to (couldn't) let go of that distraction. This didn’t mean his little obsession with you was painless—quite the contrary. However, those brief moments when your attention was focused on him, when you shared your touch as you traveled with him through Jasper when you looked only at him, made up for all the pain, torment, and hell he went through. Then there was no war, no Decepticons, no Optimus Prime. There was only him and you.

One last time, he tried to return to the report, but this time it wasn’t his illusions sabotaging his work. This time, it was you.

“Optimus,” your voice freed him from the prison of his thoughts. “I’d totally understand if you don’t have time to leave the base. But… would you perhaps like to drive me home? It’s getting late.”

“Of course, [Name],” he replied immediately because refusing you made no sense.

“Can’t you ask Bumblebee instead of dragging Optimus to fulfill your whims?” Ratchet intruded into the conversation.

“That will not be a problem for me,” Optimus assured, with an unusually stern tone aimed more at the medic than at you. “I am at your service, [Name].”

“Thank you!”

He transformed and waited patiently for you to join him. He opened the door, and once you climbed into the seat, fastened the seatbelt himself. He hoped you wouldn’t notice the slow pace he had settled upon, that this time he had decided to be selfish, savoring the unrestrained pleasure of your privacy.

#transformers #transformers x reader #optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #tfp #obsessed!optimus

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luffington · 10 months ago

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hihi, how are u⁉️ may i request jealous crocodile and/or doflamingo smut? i am OBSESSED w ur fur & feathers story, you’re an amazing writer!! thank you sm 🙏🫶💓‼️

➤ pairing: sir crocodile x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.6k

➤ warnings: dom!crocodile, possessive behavior, spanking, degradation, praise, belly bulge, overstimulation, mentioned breeding kink, established relationship, fem reader

aww i'm glad you like it! i decided to give crocodile some love since i already have a few fics about doffy :3 i had really bad horny brainrot writing this he drives me insane

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Deciding not to join Baroque Works was your own choice, but you shouldn’t be suffering for it.

The crime syndicate’s leader and you had been in a relationship for quite a while. You’d long since accepted his dedication to his job and his workaholic tendencies – a serious job required someone just as serious. But recently, it had gotten to be too much.

He spent sixteen hours a day holed up in his office, pouring over documents and answering calls and meeting with Miss All Sunday. Grunted quiet greetings when he came home at night, climbing into bed beside you then falling asleep immediately. He’d barely said three words to you all week.

You were jealous of the fucking Transponder Snail for how much attention it got. It was time to take matters into your own hands.

So you put on your sluttiest dress, a nice pair of heels, and flashy diamond earrings, then wandered around the massive Rain Dinners casino looking for easy prey. You settled on a drunk average-looking man with a winning streak at roulette. He openly ogled your body as you approached, and smirked lecherously when you asked if the empty seat on his left was taken.

The man clearly wasn’t a local. He didn’t recognize you, even though you weren’t shy about hanging onto Crocodile’s arm in public. And he was much too stupid to notice the casino staff’s constant nervous glances. While laughing and holding your drink, you brushed a flirty hand over his shoulder and pressed your body against him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Crocodile emerge from the staff-only hallway to survey the room. Everything about him commanded attention – his abnormal height, his expensive clothes, his intimidating presence. In a flash, he materialized behind you. Half of his body was still reforming from a whirling sandstorm. Menacing golden eyes shone down at you, but his expression was eerily blank.

The entire casino fell silent. Everyone’s focus was on you.

Crocodile exhaled a pungent cloud of cigar smoke. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Bullshit. He’d hardly looked at you at all for nearly two weeks. Ignoring the shivers running down your spine, you decided to continue taunting him.

“I’m watching my good friend here play roulette! He’s very lucky, he might take all your money home with him.” You didn’t even remember the man’s name, but you lied with a cheeky grin and firmly patted his thigh twice.

Much too friendly for Crocodile’s liking.

Your lover’s eyes narrowed in on the empty martini glass in front of you. “How many of those have you had?”

“I dunno, three? Four?” You turned to the stranger with a saccharine smile. “Were you keeping count?”

The man was frozen in place, terrified into silence at the sight of the eight foot tall Warlord towering above him. His all-consuming fear made him seem like a small animal staring into a Bananawani’s open jaws.

“You’re drunk. You should sit down.” Crocodile’s tone was steady but dangerous. Always aware of his public image, his carefully chosen words made him seem like the perfect gentleman.

“But I am sit–“

A murderous glare cut you off mid-sentence. You realized you’d taken your bratty act as far as it could go – any more might be threatening to your well-being. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you rose from your seat and automatically moved to his side. Tucked yourself into the folds of his coat, choosing to look down at your heels rather than his face.

“Make yourself comfortable in my office, darling.” The Warlord patted your shoulder, causing you to flinch. His voice dropped an octave as he growled, “I’d like to speak to this lucky gentleman in private.”

Crocodile’s pristine office was unnervingly quiet. You took a seat on the plush couch facing his desk, nervously bouncing your legs and trying to calm your racing heartbeat. With the lights off, the room was only illuminated by the water surrounding it. Dark shadows of swimming Bananawani regularly moved across the walls. Silly little prey, willingly walking into their nest.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind you. Heavy footsteps slowly approached but you didn’t dare turn around. Rich cologne flooded your nostrils and his golden hook flashed in your peripheral vision.

Your lover stayed quiet, patiently biding his time until the silence finally got to you. Timidly, you asked, “What happened to that man?”

“What man?” Your lover cocked his head to the side, feigning ignorance. After a moment, a sadistic chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Oh, you mean the mummy in the back room. Let’s say he mysteriously disappeared.”

You whipped your head around with wide eyes. “You killed him for me?”

Oddly, you didn’t feel bad about it – that man was a creep. Getting rid of him was probably a blessing for the women of Alabasta.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, dear.” He sounded sincere, but then leaned down and fiercely whispered, “Except play this stupid game of yours. I like showing you off, not sharing you.”

Soft breath tickled your cheek and the fur lining of his coat brushed against your skin. You felt a fire ignite in your core – he was irresistibly sexy when he became possessive (well, more possessive than usual).

“Have I done something to upset you?” Crocodile kissed and licked down the column of your neck. “Or were you taunting me for fun?”

“Y-You’ve been so busy lately, I was–” The word ‘lonely’ died on your lips when he sunk his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Oh, my poor dear. Are you feeling neglected?” He cooed when you shyly nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to the bite mark. “I’m very sorry. Work’s been out of control recently, but everything will settle down soon. You have my attention now.”

The tip of his hook slid under your dress’s thin shoulder strap, then cleanly tore through it. He repeated the action on the other side until the torn fabric slipped down to reveal your bare breasts.

“Not even wearing a bra?” Your lover clicked his tongue, roughly cupping and caressing your right boob then smacking the soft flesh. “If that man looked down your dress, then his death sentence was too lenient. I should’ve tortured him.”

“You’re so scary,” you giggled, letting your head fall back against his sturdy chest with a content sigh. Grainy fingers traced your areola then rubbed over your hardened nipples. Thankfully, you knew you’d never experience the true extent of his wrath – he adored you.

Without warning, he wrapped his cold hook around your throat. The proximity of its sharp edge to such a dangerous area made your hair stand on end.

“Bend over my desk,” he commanded, gently nipping your ear. “Darling.”

You stumbled over to the enormous desk, legs shaking from anticipation and arousal. Bracing your arms on the polished wood, you arched your back and presented your ass to him. The Warlord took a moment to admire the view, amused by your visible impatience.

“I bought you these,” Crocodile drawled, tracing the waistband of your silky panties with the curved back of his hook. You never saw their price tag, but they felt expensive. He poked your earlobe. “I bought you those earrings, too. They cost more berry than that pathetic man could ever make. Everything about you belongs to me – seems like I have to remind you.”

A large hand came down on your ass hard, jiggling the soft flesh and making you cry out in delight. The collection of rings on his fingers added a delicious extra sting. Three more spanks followed rapidly in the same spot, then four on the other cheek until every part of your ass ached.

Crocodile snickered when you rubbed your thighs together like an animal in heat. A wet spot had already dampened your panties. “Silly little slut. If you wanted to be spanked, you should’ve just asked. No need for all the theatrics.”

“Didn’t have a chance to since you were talking to that Snail all fucking day.” Your petulant mumble quickly turned into a yelp when his hand brutally struck the crease of your thighs. Making sure you’d feel the sting every time you sat down. He grabbed the roots of your hair and yanked your head back.

“Watch your tone,” Crocodile growled. The Warlord released you, catching you before your limp body hit the desk and easily flipped you onto your back. A wicked smirk almost as wide as his scar spread across his face. He hungrily observed your body like a predator about to pounce.

He pulled down your panties with an unnerving carefulness – he didn’t want to damage his property, after all. Then he roughly spanked your bare pussy. Your surprised cry of pain echoed throughout the empty room. Satisfied with your reaction, he did it again and again until your folds turned puffy.

Crocodile spread your cunt using the back of his hook so he could land a direct hit on your sensitive clit. The impact on your bundle of nerves sent electric shocks throughout your body, your back arching painfully off the table. Your lover chuckled and swiped two fingers through your drenched folds.

“Who else can make you this wet?” Crocodile webbed your juices between his fingers before bringing them to your lips. Obediently opening your mouth, you suckled and swirled your tongue around them. Paying extra attention to his rings, making sure the precious jewels shined with your spit. Though it was a rhetorical question, he pulled his fingers out to hear your response.

“No one.” You answered honestly, your eyes dilated with lust and chest heaving. “Just you.”

“You’re damn right.” Crocodile unlatched his belt, letting his trousers hit the floor with a metallic clang. His enormous dick smacked against his pelvis, rock hard and leaking pearly precum. You unconsciously licked your lips at the sight. “Can’t let another cock can satisfy you, either. I need to ruin you for anyone else.”

Demanding you to look directly at him, he lined up his tip with your hole and thrust his hips forward. Slowly at first – his massive cock often met resistance in your tiny cunt – but after the first few inches, he slammed the entire length inside. Knocking all the air out of your lungs, your head lolling back on the desk. Crocodile stayed like that, appreciating the pretty bulge in your belly.

“Crocodile, please…”

“My name sounds perfect on your lips.” That predatory gaze was back, the need to possess you overwhelming his thoughts. Your lover pulled back until only the tip remained in your dripping pussy, then harshly rammed his dick in all the way.

Quickly setting a rough pace, Crocodile palmed at your tits with rough hands then leaned into the crook of your neck, whispering a dizzying mix of praise and degrading phrases. All of your coherent thoughts vanished from your brain.

You clutched onto his coat to ground yourself, to not get lost in the sea of pleasure washing over you. His cock was too fucking big. Too fucking good. It bullied its way inside your wet walls, permanently reshaping them to the perfect fit as he called you his pretty little cocksleeve.

Over a week’s worth of pent-up sexual urges were quickly coming to a head. Crocodile knew your body so well that he immediately recognized the signs of your impending orgasm. He reached his hand between your bodies to rub circles on your clit, pinching and pulling the sensitive nub for good measure.

“H-Holy fuck, ahhh, shit, I’m gonna…”

The Warlord smirked cruelly and paused his movements with his cock halfway inside you. “Apologize for being a brat. For even looking at that worthless man.”

If you had a stronger resolve, you could’ve kept this game going even longer. Asked him to apologize for ignoring you. Maybe even gotten a few more spanks out of it. But you needed to cum, and you desperately needed his giant cock to move.

“I’m sorry,” you panted desperately. “I won’t be bratty anymore, I promise. You’re the only man I’ll ever want. I’ll do anything, just – please, please, let me cum.”

“Very good girl.” Crocodile rewarded you by sensually rolling his hips to stir your insides around. Snickering, he admitted, “Although, I do enjoy when you act up every once in a while. You’re especially sexy when you submit to me.”

Your lover resumed fucking you hard enough to make the desk creak. Legs shaking with every thrust, your eyes were unfocused and the only thought in your head was how full you felt. Looking down, you dreamily watched the bump in your stomach move up and down as his dick rearranged your guts.

“Scream my name loud enough for the entire casino to hear when you cum. Let them know who owns you.”

Just one scream wasn’t enough for you – you chanted his name like a prayer as your orgasm hit you in full force. Juices gushed around Crocodile’s cock and dripped down his balls. He lazily fondled your clit to help you through it, only pulling away once the aftershocks had subsided. You lay limply on the desk, face flushed and chest heaving.

Belatedly, you realized that Crocodile hadn’t budged. A concerning sign.

“You… you didn’t cum?”

“This soon? Of course not. I didn’t commit murder for one measly orgasm,” he chuckled. “Evidently, I have a lot of lost time to make up for. Your cunt better be prepared.”

“W-wait, give me a minute –”

“No, dear, you were right. I spent too much time ignoring you. You deserve all my love.” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that knocked his mushroom tip against your cervix. “And affection.” Another thrust. “And every inch of my cock.”

Filthy squelching sounds and your lover’s balls slapping against your ass accompanied your overwhelmed scream. Tears pricked at your eyes as he increased his pace, your brain becoming as mushy as your cunt.

“Such a perfect pussy. Only a real man like me can treat it properly.” Crocodile murmured smugly. Leaning down to press his body flush against yours, his muscular pecs squished against your tits. His normally slicked-back hair was coming undone, strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. Dizzying pleasure washed over you when his fingers found your clit again.

Crocodile felt his balls tighten, but held himself back from the edge by slowing down to a relaxed grind, focusing all of his attention on you. You fucking lost your mind when he spelled each letter of his name on your sensitive bundle of nerves. A second orgasm washed over you in a bright light, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you murmured absolute nonsense mixed with cries of his name.

Your cunt clamping down on his cock like a vice sent him over the edge. At the very last second, Crocodile pulled out to spurt thick stripes of cum across your stomach. With a deep, satisfied groan, he jerked himself to completion until your skin was painted white. Fully marking you as his own.

Satisfaction and exhaustion made your eyes flutter shut, but Crocodile ensured you stayed awake by giving you a surprisingly tender forehead kiss. Cradling your cheek, he asked, “Feel better?”

“My ass hurts, but yes. I feel great.” You nodded with a fucked-out grin, chasing his lips for a real kiss which he eagerly granted.

“Good. As pretty as you look covered in my cum, the next load is going inside you. I need to fuck a baby into my beautiful girl.”

His next load? Your eyes widened when he began stroking his cock again, still soft but beginning to twitch with interest. Turning your head, you met the downward-turned eyestalks of his shut-off Transponder Snail.

#bananawani comparison bc it's what he would've wanted #sir crocodile smut #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile imagine #crocodile smut #dom!crocodile #crocodile x reader #crocodile imagine #one piece smut #one piece x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile #request #anon #mine #my fics #croc

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sugarcherryrobbing · 2 months ago

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Hello! Could I request yandere Chance (forsaken) headcanons?

Yandere!Chance General Headcanons

❂ Warning(s): Yandere, Obsessive & Unhealthy Behavior

❂ Type of Writing: Headcanons

❂ Fandom: Forsaken

❂ Word Count: 852

A/N: Never stop gambling, never stop gambling… I know their lore is being remade as of right now (?), so I will try my best to write and maybe rewrite in the future? I’ll make another post perhaps. Apologies, been having troubles writing often. This is very disorganized 😭.

❂ When they first laid eyes on you, or if you ever met them in their dangerous adventures in childhood or the Forsaken Realm, Chance was smitten with a golden arrow, with a little spade on top.

❂ They always believed in Lady Luck; they couldn’t believe that she allowed them to meet you! Mayhaps a more ‘hidden feelings’ kind of yandere unless with their person of admiration.

❂ With others, it’s all chummy and good-spirited. When they are in some space of being alone with you, they melt into their feelings. If you two aren’t in a relationship yet, it takes all amounts of energy to not squeal and be overly admiring of you.

❂ Hell, even if you met them at their parent’s casino, through ITrapped, or within the Forsaken Realm, it seems like they struck gold. They’d follow you to the ends of the earth.

❂ Clingy to the extent? They can play it off as watching you play slots or fixing the generators. Saying they are watching if you are doing it right, jokingly, of course. That or the excuse of wanting to learn from you (generators).

❂ Lazily, drapes an arm around you. Around your neck, shoulders? Body? They like to hold you warmly. Hinting to others that you are with Chance.

❂ While so, they are happily affectionate and friendly with you. At times they forget they are a jokester, what can we say? They hold you in such high regard that forgetting their own words is common.

❂ Always by your side, as your personal purse, or as protection from the abnormal monsters that hunt you down. Hovering around you casually, fueling their heart with just the proximity.

❂ They can always be a sentinel for all of the survivors, with you always on their mind. Wishing to team with you always. Hogging any items they can get to give to you. Running towards you if there is any distress or just if they are bored.

❂ It’s clear that they seek your attention and time, but the intent is always hidden under. They never planned to kill the survivors, but if their admired person focuses their attention on them… Maybe if the survivor/killer pisses them off or tries to have your hand, they may expect an ‘accidental’ shot?

❂ Before the both of you (if it happens) arrive in the Forsaken Realm, they could spoil you dozens of times with no limitations. It’s an act of love for Chance. They always wanted to impress you with their skills more though.

❂ After falling and awakening in the dark world (let’s say before you), they could lay there for hours, dealing with the thrust of air that ITrapped missed with the swing of the Darkheart. Feeling their body for any wounds, slashes, stabs. A numbness of what almost happened (trying to feel if the reason for being here is death, or worse). They can still move, there was no bleeding, still able to see, small, labored breaths showed that they were alive.

❂ Panic and realization. ITrapped was gone, they were trying to kill them. Where were they? What was everything around them?

❂ Sure, they kept their persona of the calm, smirking risk-taker to the rest of the survivors, almost nearly fooling all, once they get to their cabin, they falter when they take their glasses off.

❂ They felt broken, the string of his mind was not yet snapped.

❂ If you guys knew each other before entering the realm, Chance would weep quietly in their cabin. Grasping at the pillows and fabric pilling of cotton to remind himself of your clothing. Makeshifting memories or even scenarios themself to soothe their mind. Waiting. Endlessly.

❂ When you arrive, to this dark hell, to this ruinous realm, it was hard to believe that. Guest 1337 found you first, taking you in the main cabin to settle.

❂ News reaching to the other cabins. Their cabin. Chance was one of the first to approach. Cool-toned, always there for you, trying to answer better than the other survivors your questions, like its competition. If you two knew each other beforehand, it allows Chance more of the medal to show you about and to be with you more intimately.

❂ As time passed, hanging by you, they cling more heavily. He never wishes to see you perish during rounds, hell, willing to shield you from anything that tries to fly against the both of you.

❂ Jealousy weakens his ego at times if you’re with others, (tries to, maybe) openly flirts or place his body weight on you as a joke to hold them up. Anything for your time, anything if it means they have your attention.

❂ Dreams for them to shoot their shot with you. Let’s hope Lady Luck is on their side! … Or not..?

❂ If you denied them… it’s all on a coin flip on what Chance’s reaction would be.

❂ If it’s heads, it may end up in tears and begging you.

❂ If it’s tails… Well, let’s hope it's not.

#✥ hearty headcanons #✥ obsessive / yandere #yandere #yandere chance x reader #yandere forsaken #forsaken x reader #chance x reader #forsaken

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nordickies · 2 months ago

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What's the story or reason behind "Sweden is gay" jokes?

I could just say “it’s a comedy trope” and leave it at that—but the truth is, the topic is much more nuanced and, in my opinion, genuinely fascinating. The perception of Swedish men as “gay” in Finland isn’t some modern invention; it’s generational. The trope has been around so long that most people have no idea where it actually came from. So let me give you a proper, researched answer!

For most of history, same-sex relationships weren’t explicitly named in Sweden's (and by extension Finland's) criminal law. Instead, sexual crimes were defined through Biblical principles, such as the sins of Sodom, and punishments were meted out inconsistently. In the late 19th century, however, the criminalization of homosexuality became a public issue, driven by contemporary medical debates that aimed to purge society of its supposed moral decay in the name of racial hygiene. Homosexuality was medicalized, and it began to be classified as a psychiatric illness—an abnormal deviation from “biologically normal heterosexuality.” At the same time, psychoanalysts were also looking for ways to "cure" this deviance.

Contradictorily, homosexuality was seen both as an innate trait of certain “lower-class” people and as a contagious epidemic that could "infect" anyone who wasn't careful. Sexuality, now central to modernity, became heavily regulated by social norms. In Sweden, the government appointed numerous commissions focused on sexuality, primarily concerning sexual hygiene and procreation, essentially regulating who was allowed, or deemed desirable, to reproduce.

World War II brought the topic of homosexuality further into public discourse. Beyond the documentation of violent Nazi persecution of homosexuals, Finland began to confront same-sex relationships that emerged on the front lines and in blacked-out Helsinki during the war. War placed people into heavily gendered environments, where same-sex intimacy could form more easily. At the same time, Sweden decriminalized homosexuality in 1944, which brought the topic into Finnish media. Finnish tabloids wrote extensively about Swedish homosexuals and the spread of the so-called “Swedish disease.” Scandals in neighboring countries—like the 1955 Prostitution Network case in Copenhagen and Sweden’s Haijby and Kejne cases—distorted the topic, connecting homosexuality and pedophilia in the Finnish debate.

Stockholms Tidningen 22/1950 - "Homosexuals are a serious problem in Stockholm – rural youth are the victims"

The homosexual, as the "other" and the opposite of the heterosexual, was depicted as a moral threat to society in the 1950s. During the anxiety of the Cold War, the “other” became a public enemy and a danger to national security.

After the war, the national rebuilding project included a focus on moral reconstruction. Attitudes toward sexuality became increasingly conservative. The fear and panic around homosexuality led Finnish authorities to monitor, e.g., parks and public bathrooms, where gay men were believed to meet each other. The 1950s saw the highest number of convictions for homosexuality in Finnish history, with over 1,000 men prosecuted. Public discourse and reporting on homosexuality led to the police becoming more active to prevent a moral panic, which in turn led to new convictions, which were reported in the tabloid magazines—starting a self-feeding cycle. Sensational headlines framed victims of sexual assault as complicit, citing “loose morals,” drunkenness, or a tendency toward debauchery, the victim-blaming adding shame to an already stigmatized homosexuality. There was also the threat of blackmail, real or fabricated, that could ruin people’s personal relationships, careers, and public image.

Viikon Totuus 11/1959 - "Male homosexuals in the limelight: Is the 'Swedish disease' spreading in Finland?

Whereas homosexuality was associated with communism in the United States and the United Kingdom, in Sweden, homosexuality was seen as a problem within the right-wing and upper classes of society, with young and impoverished working-class men being the victims. In Finland, similar ideas arose, as homosexuality was primarily considered an urban problem. Until the 1950s, Finland was a largely agrarian society where people, regardless of gender, were expected to contribute to agricultural labor. Oftentimes, it was the women who had to do labor-intensive work while the men were drafted as soldiers. This fostered a less rigid gender hierarchy, to a point it's argued that rural life didn’t necessarily stigmatize the "feminized" man in a same-sex relationship. Same-sex relationships were seen as less problematic than extramarital relationships between women and men, which could result in illegitimate children. As long as everyone contributed to the community, same-sex couples could often go unbothered. However, this concealable nature of same-sex relationships meant that rural communities weren’t exposed to homosexuality as a concept until the media framed it as a threat. What had once gone unnamed became a symbol of urban moral decay and a danger to national purity.

Viikon Totuus 1/1963 - "Homophiles chase boys and men in central Helsinki"

In Western patriarchal societies, homosexuality is “othered” because it challenges hegemonic masculinity, which relies on the expectation of unequal heterosexual relationships. Male bonds are expected to remain non-sexual to uphold the social hierarchy. Men who deviate or fight against these norms are seen as weak, effeminate, and thus lacking masculinity. This dynamic fosters homophobia, misogyny, and heterosexism, keeping heterosexual men united in opposition to anything deemed feminine or non-conforming. By associating homosexuality with something “other” in the new wave of moralism in the 20th century, it was possible to create an image that Finnish masculinity and homosexuality are not compatible. Homosexuality becomes the “other” to the Finnish man’s identity—something that cannot co-exist within him. Swedish men who are “feminine and interested in men” create a contrast to the “strong heterosexual Finnish man”. The othering of the Swedish man was easy because Finnish national identity was, from the start, shaped in opposition to Swedishness. By excluding homosexuality from the cultural narrative, society reasserts its ideals of masculinity, moral integrity, and national cohesion. The othering of the Swedish man gives a satisfying itch to the inferior complex and validates the national identity.

I personally think it's worth noting the upper class of Finnish society being traditionally Swedish speaking (and gayness seen as a vice of the rich), alongside the rural flight which lead to over 400,000 Finns moving to Sweden between 1950s-1970s and thus exposing Finns to more liberated sexual environment, have in my opinion certainly also contributed to the pre-existing conception of Swedishness as inherently homosexual compared to that of Finnishness.

Norwegian petition in Dagbladet magazine, 28.6.1979. "We demand that the competent authorities in Finland immediately repeal the anti-gay law to bring Finland into line with other Nordic countries."

Timeline of the development of same-sex rights in both countries:

Homosexuality criminalized: 🇸🇪 1864 / 🇫🇮 1894

Homosexuality decriminalized: 🇸🇪 1944 / 🇫🇮 1971

No longer classified as illness: 🇸🇪 1979 / 🇫🇮 1981

Anti-discrimination laws: 🇸🇪 1987 / 🇫🇮 2000

Registered partnership: 🇸🇪 1995 / 🇫🇮 2002

Adoption rights: 🇸🇪 2003 / 🇫🇮 2009

Marriage equality: 🇸🇪 2009 / 🇫🇮 2017

During the HIV crisis in 1987, Sweden passed a law banning gay saunas and prostitution (repealed in 2004). In Finland, although gay sex was decriminalized in 1971, it was replaced with a “Promotion Ban,” which made "promoting" or discussing homosexuality effectively illegal until 1999. This vague law created a culture of censorship and fear, discouraging media from covering LGBTQ topics positively—or at all. As a result, many queer Finns sought refuge in more progressive countries like Sweden and Denmark, forming small diaspora communities. It's worth noting that Sweden and Denmark also liberalized porn in the late 1960s, while Finland had strict regulation regarding "promiscuous publications" until the 1990s. Swedish and Danish magazines and films were imported both by private consumers and smuggled by sex shops, reinforcing the association with sexuality, and especially sexual deviancy, with the Western neighbours.

Attitudes towards homosexuality in Finland started to change slowly after the decriminalization. However, the repeated generational perceptions of "effeminate" Swedish men compared to heteromasculine Finnish men continued to shape the perceptions of homosexuality in, e.g., comedy tropes. Additionally, the perception of homosexuality as a sensitive issue that wasn’t being talked about during the Promotion Ban left a mark. Belonging to a sexual minority was seen as a private matter that should not have any weight in public debate, which left especially politicians hesitant to bring up LGBTQ issues forward, and thus, LGBTQ legislation in Finland moved forward painfully slowly.

Homosexuality, since its appearance in wide public discourse in Finland, was associated with Swedishness from day one, being framed as an urban disease, sensationalized through scandals and pseudo-science, sparking moral panic. The issue cut deep into medical, social, and cultural anxiety. The othering made it easier for Finnish society to distance itself from homosexuality by projecting it onto a "familiar" outsider, the Swede, who was easy to make fun of.

Recommendations for further reading:

Juvonen, T., Vastapaino. 2021. Varjoelämää ja julkisia salaisuuksia — Homoseksuaalisuuden rakentuminen sotien jälkeisessä Suomessa. https://www.finna.fi/Record/fikka.5795725?lng=en-gb

Kettunen, S. 2022. Martti rakkaani: Hiljaisuus ja vaikeneminen seksuaalisuuden kokemuksessa miesparin kirjeenvaihdossa 1956–1961. https://urn.fi/URN:NBN:fi:tuni-202210267896

Hagman, S. 2014. Seven queer brothers: narratives of forbidden male same-sex desires from modernizing Finland 1894-1971. https://hdl.handle.net/1814/32118

Põldsam, R., Taavetti, R. 2024. Sisters Across the Gulf: Transnational Connections and Frictions in Estonian–Finnish Lesbian Networks of the early 1990s. https://doi.org/10.34041/ln.v29.933

Rydström, J., Mustola, K. 2007. Criminally Queer: Homosexuality and Criminal Law in Scandinavia 1842-1999. https://library.oapen.org/viewer/web/viewer.html?file=/bitstream/handle/20.500.12657/34830/353810.pdf.

Sundén, J., Paasonen, S., & Tiidenberg, K. 2024. Sex at the Borders: A Special Issue Introduction. https://doi.org/10.34041/ln.v29.928

Söderström, G. 1999. Sympatiens hemlighetsfulla makt. Stockholms homosexuella 1860-1960.

Nyegaard, N., Heede, D. & Rydström, J. 2022. Special Issue Editorial: Nordic LGBTQ Histories. https://doi.org/10.1080/08038740.2022.2104022

Suomi on Queer. 2023. Yle. https://areena.yle.fi/1-66734852

#sorry anon you had to wait #not related to this blog. dunno what to tag. but ty for letting me talk about some of my niches lol #history #culture #lgbtq

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jsooly · 4 months ago

Text

death in the family (6) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, you finally get to the bottom of what eywa was trying to show you. she didn't tell you it'd try to kill you.

!! LINKS ARE INCLUDED FOR REFERENCE! i used these to help visualize so i wanted to include them to help you guys too <3

this is a loooooooong chapter enjoy !

(1) / . . . / (10) / (11*) / (12*- ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

when did you move from your bed?

the ground cradled you. your figure imprinted into the pillowy dirt and the blades of grass brushed delicately along your cheek, like the great mother's herself was beside you peppering butterfly kisses on your skin. it figured that she was the only one able to lull your restless soul into slumber.

blinking awake, you felt abnormally light. like gravity had been lowered significantly. like the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't muster any worry for the state of your family or the dangers that threatened them.

you smiled, squinting as the sun peeked through the holes in the canopy. this is nice. you breathed the fresh air deeply, your lungs expanding slowly. this is nice.

then you focused on the tree before you. the tree of souls, standing proud in all its glory, was calling to you. whispers unheard yet drawing you in all the same.

you cocked your head to the side, thinking this has never happened before. you've visited the tree of souls on more than one occasion, and every time it stood listless.

you pushed yourself off the ground and walked closer.

with each step, the atmosphere grew darker. the only thing constant was the thrumming neon blue and lavender lighting of the tree's long weeping leaves. you stumbled onto the hill it was rooted in, falling through the curtains of neural links and—

listen.

you squinted towards the apex of the tree, overwhelmed by the glittering lighting beating its way through your pupils. huh? the voice you heard was warped, indescribable in terms of tone or pitch, neither coming from your right or left, it was just... there.

follow me and listen.

when did it become nighttime? your bones were growing heavy. a low groan tapered its way off your lips, your head teetering on the edge of dizziness once again. you curled into yourself as the whispers intensified into a crowd's roar—

your eyes flew open. you didn't dare to move. seeds of eywa covered your body, surrounding you in a halo of cool lighting. you could feel their presence along the fat of your thigh, back, stomach... they were everywhere. the one beside your cheek caressed you with its tentacles.

your body felt tired. you remained completely still, trying to hold on to the bliss you felt moments ago in your vision. but here the walls were painted grey and your mattress was stiff.

your eyes darted back to the closest woodsprite, the message echoing in your mind. follow me.

"what are you trying to tell me?" you mumbled, your voice still thick with sleep. "to follow you?"

its movement was almost imperceptible.

"fine." you closed your eyes one last time.

at your confirmation, the sprites lifted into the air, floating out the window. one remained, patiently waiting for you to complete your morning routine and grab your tools. you climbed out the window behind it.

the grass was frigid under the soles of your feet as you strolled behind the sprite. your head was still pounding uncomfortably from your psychedelic vision.

you wandered along a familiar route towards the tree of souls. it was sunken into a crater of its own, the bedrock around it hollowing out to give it space to grow. some sprites fluttered past you, descending to take their place back at the epicenter of the great mother's presence.

"okay, here we are." you said, your tone exasperated. the sprite stood still, like an NPC character stuck at the end of its script. without any further instructions, you elected to climb down the cliff towards the tree.

you landed gracefully on the rocky terrain, despite the morning dew making it a bit slippery. the sprite was following you now, it seemed, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

how do you communicate with something you can't connect with? this question has been part of your life since forever and has extended past just the people. forget the language, there was an unspoken energy around you that you weren't built to harness.

though this situation was making you reconsider that fact.

"you brought me here." you hummed, extending your arm to let the bright rods brush over it. "what do you want to show me?"

you weren't completely serious as you spoke into the crisp morning air. if your thoughts were out there, maybe something other than silence would respond to you.

you stood there expectantly for a few minutes. if you didn't get any answers for eywa's confusing persistence, at least you could soothe yourself before you attempted to switch spider's mask.

you sighed, giving your ethereal companion a sheepish look. "i'm sorry, i just don't understand."

you stepped past it, your mind already plotting how far you were from spider's location.

then a cool wind passed over you. your eyes fell to the ground, watching a large shadow zip along.

weird.

you crouched low to the ground, scurrying to the cliff wall and pressing your back tightly to the surface. when you finally looked up, you felt the blood drain from your face.

ikran don't often hang around rocky terrain, not this low to the ground anyway, much less slotsyal. stormgliders.

your eyes snapped to eywa's sprites. they were all buzzing with life, zipping through the air more excitedly than usual. your companion floated under your hand, lifting it up and up and up until you were pointing at the apex predator.

"are you crazy?" you whispered urgently, pulling your hand back and looking at it incredulously. "no, no. i am turning the other way, thank you." you muttered, turning towards the wall and feeling for a good ledge to start your climb.

the sprite brushed along your face, making you splutter and step back out of the shade of the cliff wall. others surrounded you, drifting off and illuminating a path towards the animal.

you glared at all of them. "this is what you want from me? what am i gonna do, make friends with it?"

they floated there, steadfast in their instructions.

you gave it a look. "i will die if i get close. eaten! that's your big plan for me, great mother? really?"

you knew it was her doing. stormgliders never hunt this low to the ground, and they are never around the forest. similar to toruk, they cruise at super high altitudes and only ever descend when they're hungry.

this guy was descending, and you hated to think you were the food.

but if this was eywa's plan, you were a fool to turn away.

you gripped your bow, stringing it expertly as you gave one last glance at the sprites. "i'm listening as you've asked of me." you grumbled stubbornly, like a child complaining to their parent. "but if i die, that's on you."

"are you some kind of... freak?" aonung smirked down at kiri, his entourage chuckling behind him.

"he asked if you are a freak." one echoed.

"...no." kiri answered dismissively, walking away. they followed behind her, circling her like vultures.

"are you sure? you're not even real na'vi. look at these hands." aonung continued, swiping at her wrist to prove his point. she pulled back, her eyes narrowed. "i mean, look at them!" he laughed, grabbing her hands and turning them over, as if inspecting something grotesque.

kiri yanked her hands away, her glare sharp as her heart pounded with anger. the sounds of aonung's friends' laughter erupting behind her.

"hey!" lo'ak sauntered up, his expression hardened. he was already pissed off. "back off, fish lips."

"oh, another four fingered freak." aonung teased, a low laugh following as his friends began to pull on lo'ak's tail.

"leave us alone!" kiri pleaded, her voice laced with frustration.

she didn't have to say anything further—neteyam stormed into the scene, grabbing aonung's shoulder and ripping him away from his little brother.

"you heard what she said." neteyam threatened, his voice menacingly calm for the irritation he was feeling inside. "leave them alone."

"ah, big brother comin—"

aonung slapped the back of his hand to his friend, shutting him up without breaking eye contact with neteyam. his mind calculated the risks of stepping toe-to-toe with the foreigner, scanning for weakness.

"no, you're wrong," aonung corrected his friend with a smug look. "he is no big brother. he is the little brother to a demon. a human they've left behind because they are ashamed."

lo'ak lurched forward with an angry growl.

"lo'ak." neteyam snapped and the boy froze, pacing behind the older sully.

"you're gonna let them talk about her like that?"

"aww," aonung cooed, condescension dripping from his tongue. "they say birds flock together. i see the same idea extends to half-blooded demon freaks such as yourself."

neteyam gave lo'ak one more warning look before returning his attention to the metkayina kids. "my family is of no concern to you."

"yes, they are." aonung shot back. "we don't want your contamination. i would respect you, sully, if you didn't bow your head to the human you call your elder sibling."

neteyam exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. aonung had no idea who he was insulting.

"you speak as if you know her. as if you understand what she is." his voice, when it finally came, was low and precise.

he took a slow step forward. "this demon you speak of is our sister, out protector. she bled for us before she had even grew into her own strength. that alone makes her more of a man than you are." his golden eyes burned with something lethal. "we all know she isn't made for this world. that doesn't mean the planet itself hasn't accepted her as she is. she belongs here just like we do."

it made aonung hesitate for a second.

"you would not be standing if she was here. she would've knocked you into the sand without hesitation." neteyam continued, his fists tightening. " but she is not here. i am. and if you bother my family again, i won't think twice about following her example."

aonung paused. then, he raised his hands, that stupid smirk on his lips as he stepped back in surrender.

"smart choice." neteyam hummed, satisfied as he leaned back. "and from now on, i need you to respect my sister." he jabbed a finger in kiri's direction.

one of aonung's friends hissed. kiri responded by sticking out her tongue.

"let's go." neteyam ordered, patting lo'ak's head as he stormed past him.

"bye bye!" one friend sang mockingly, laughing as they turned away.

lo'ak's eyes rolled as he slowed to a stop.

"lo'ak." neteyam warned.

"i got this." lo'ak sweetly reassured him as he walked back to the group. he smiled as he approached them. "i know this hand is funny. but it can do something really cool. watch."

aonung made the mistake of humoring him.

at this point, your brain was tired screaming DANGER! the warning bells were going off, and you weren't listening.

the wind underneath the stormglider's wings rustled the leaves and vines of the trees below it. you were currently running for your life.

i knew this was a bad idea i knew this was a bad idea

you squeezed your eyes shut, yelling out in exertion. running in a near constant sprint for almost half an hour straight was not on your agenda today. your arms pumped at your sides, carrying you farther with every step.

the only logical conclusion to eywa's... gift was that you needed to bond with the stormglider. or escape it? but then why would she bring you and light the path towards it?

you were hesitant to accept the message she was clearly sending your way. how? you wanted to yell. how am i going to bond with this gigantic creature?

though juvenile, this slotsyal was much larger than a fully mature ikran. their wingspan was massive, and their barbed tail swinging behind them was the nail in the coffin.

the stormglider thrashed its great wings, carrying it higher and higher in the air.

your heart dropped. that only meant it was rearing to dive down and strike. its venomous tail was too much for the armored fauna of pandora to handle. one touch and you were a goner.

exactly as you predicted, you heard the piercing whistle as the stormglider dived.

holy shit. your mind was in overdrive. every thought occupied your attention for less than a second. a primal need to survive filled your veins and in the next moment you were moving on autopilot—

a screech echoed along the tree trunks as if broke through the canopy. you gripped the weighted lasso tighter, racing out of its line of sight. you scrambled up a tree, leaping down onto its head and slinging the lasso around its beak.

it landed on the ground, tumbling onto its side, wailing as it clumsily flailed its wings to regain balance.

that was the good thing about large animals. the bigger they were, the harder they fell. their size didn't leave much room for agility. get the jump on them and you're already halfway there.

you laughed to yourself as it struggled against your hold. "that's right," you grinned, peering into its eyes. it's pupils dilated upon seeing you. "you're mine."

in a burst of energy, it raised its head, catapulting you into the air. you grunted, gripping onto the lasso that was still binding its beak.

oh great mother, this better be what you intended.

it shot back into the air and it was a miracle you were able to hold on. the vertical ascent allowed you to flatten onto its head. you wrapped your legs around it's neck and clung to the long fin in the middle of its skull.

there was nothing much you could do but hold on your life until it burned out again.

it warbled in pain and you perked up. hurt?

now that it wasn't actively trying to kill you, you noticed that it lacked a neural queue. you knew stormgliders were solo agents, but almost all big animals had a queue. was this one defective? perhaps a mutation down the line?

in an instant, it dropped from the sky, crashing onto the top of a mountain. you were thrown off its head, bouncing on the hard ground with an oof as you teetered off the cliff's edge.

a white hot flash of panic flashed through your body as you clung to the lasso. you pulled yourself up, but you were surprised when the stormglider started to tug you back to safety as well.

you panted heavily, the spike of activity finally registering in your body. you winced. it was painful to stand up.

you stumbled over to the fallen stormglider. it was restless, whining as it slumped over on its side.

"you just had to make it hard for me, huh." you groaned, huffing as you assessed its state. "i guess great mother threw us both for a loop."

as the nausea died down, your vision cleared and you saw it. a clean cut through a portion of its underbelly.

you pursed your lips, already rifling through your kit for supplies to mend it. you walked back to its head, stroking your hand down its side and staring into its blue eyes.

"if i take this off, promise you won't try to eat me?" you proposed. it blinked. you sighed wondering if you were unwrapping your killer or new companion.

you got to work on patching him up. a light drizzle rained down on top of you, but it was a welcome sensation after the heat of the moment.

opposed to the tough top exterior of the slotsyal, its belly was soft and easily patched up by your tools. after plastering some gauze over the wound, you gently pat its ribs before returning to its head.

"truce?" you sighed and sat crisscross beside him.

his beady eyes locked onto you before he nudged your thigh with its snout. you accommodated him, petting the curve of its head gently.

truce.

the pieces were falling into place. since you moved to high camp, you realized how important ikran were in forest na'vi culture. only together can they reach the heights the terrain has to offer. you couldn't visit your family via the helicopters, and now you had your own mount to get there.

you've got to hand it to eywa. she may be mysterious in her ways but she does hear her children's cries and dries their tears.

the light rain subsided as the sun poked out through the clouds.

"huh." you hummed as a rainbow bent its way through the sky. "katir." (rainbow.)

lo'ak fucked around and unfortunately, found out.

if it wasn't clear that the metkayina kids were praying on his downfall, it was now.

joke's on them, he thought bitterly. cuz i've got a new friend.

he was having the best time with payakan—the best few hours of his life since moving to awa'atlu.

his laughter echoed across the open waters, tapering off when he saw a large shadow pass over him.

he looked up, covering his eyes with his hands as he tried to make out what was circling above them.

mom? he thought in a panic. oh shit.

then he saw the glint of a tail. he stood there dumbly. wait, ikran don't have pointed tails, do they..?

"lo'ak?!" you screamed above the wind.

"y/n?" his eyes widened.

"katir, no!" you pulled on the your new stormglider friends' ears wrapped around your entire arm, similar to the reins of a horse. "not food!"

with a screech, katir's wings extended. the sharp drop was reduced to a clumsy glide down, the gusts of wind knocking lo'ak off his feet. katir swerved, turning around and landing on a nearby rock. he churred as he shook his wings of the saltwater, bending his head to let you drop onto the ground.

"y/n!" lo'ak's grin was so wide it hurt his cheeks but he couldn't stop. he slid onto payakan's front fin, signing please, over there!

he arrived as you were chewing katir out.

"if this is gonna work, we've gotta set some ground rules." you scolded him. he huffed and turning his head away from you. "hey, i'm talking to you."

"y/n!" lo'ak screamed in delight, jumping onto the rock and promptly slipping. "wha—what are you doing here?! how are you here?"

you grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to safety. you didn't stop there and pulled him into your arms. he hugged you back readily.

"this is katir," you grinned, walking over to your new friend and patting his head.

lo'ak blinked in disbelief. "i—how?"

"divine intervention." you shrugged. "i don't exactly know either. i had a vision, and eywa's seeds lured me to the area where this guy was lurking around. long story short, we tried to kill each other then reached an understanding."

"bonded?"

you shook your head. "no. he doesn't have a neural queue."

"just like you." lo'ak scrunched his face. "weird."

you hadn't thought of it that way.

"anyway," he shook his head, his beaming smile returning. "this is so crazy! i can't believe you're really here! wait until i tell—"

"wait." you gripped his arms. "you can't tell anyone else. not yet, anyway. i don't fully understand the implications of showing up here."

"what does it matter?" lo'ak scoffed. "we're fine. dad said you could join us anyways."

"when you're settled."

"we are!"

"are you?" you narrowed your eyes. "why are you out here alone?"

lo'ak's jaw snapped shut, his eyes drifting to the side. a look that told you all that you need to know.

"do you wanna talk about it?" you smiled kindly, sitting on the wet rock. he sighed and dropped down beside you.

"they were... being jerks. making fun of kiri and you."

you blinked. "is kiri okay?"

"yeah, she's fine."

"how do they even know about me? i thought dad would keep that under wraps."

lo'ak rolled his eyes, grumbling. "tuk and her big mouth."

you laughed softly. you missed this. you missed complaining about each other. "i assume you got into a fight?"

he nodded.

you smiled and ruffled his head with a smile. "still looking out for me oceans away, huh? thank you, lo'ak."

he got bashful, dropping his head and letting his free strand of hair poorly cover his face. "it's whatever. neteyam jumped 'em too."

you chuckled softly. "you won, no doubt."

"yeah."

"proud of you." you praised him. in the next second, your comm buzzed.

"y/n, they're moving."

lo'ak's ears popped up. "was that—"

"spider? yeah." you pressed your fingers to your choker. "copy." you responded, rising to your feet.

lo'ak's mind was struggling to keep up with all the new information. he was still shocked that you were really standing in front of him. "y/n, what have you been up to?!"

you smiled and pat his shoulder. "keeping kiri's promise. hopefully. and some sabotage."

katir blew a puff of air directly onto your head. you huffed and brushed your hair back into place. "yeah, yeah, i'm coming."

lo'ak stared at you in awe. in the month and a half they've been gone, you've already ascended to another level. or maybe you were always on this level, and only without the watchful umbrella of your father were you able to realize it.

"you can tell the other kids, not mom and dad." you called to him as you jumped onto katir. "make sure tuk doesn't blab, okay?"

"you got it." lo'ak mumbled. "you're... are you gonna come back?" he asked timidly, out of character for a confident guy like himself.

you gave him a tight lipped smile. "yeah."

his grin was the last thing you saw before you yipped, urging katir into the air. with a boom, he lifted off, unfurling his great wings and zooming back to the forest.

you stationed katir at a safe distance away from high camp. as a natural predator of ikran and na'vi, you didn't want to risk any mishaps.

before you went to spider, you needed to replenish your stockpile. naturally, the research base you were staying in didn't carry things like arrows and knives. everyone didn't think twice when they saw you rifling around. you were a familiar face, after all.

"y/n."

you squeaked as you whirled around, not expecting anyone to approach you, much less speak to you.

tarsem's eyebrows raised at your reaction, tilting his head as his features settled into an unreadable expression. his lips curled slightly as though amused by your surprised.

"hey." you quickly recovered.

"you are uneasy." he said, gaze sweeping over your fresh bruises and scars from the scuffle with katir earlier. his eyes were tender as they lingered on your injuries, concern threading through his words. "that is unlike you."

"first time for everything." you smiled politely, pocketing more arrowheads.

tarsem's lips twitched into a smile. "i do not remember you showing your discomfort so openly." he observed, curiosity in his tone.

"are you always so attentive with your people?" you hummed, your focus back to the trunk of treasures you were fishing through.

tarsem remained quiet studying you for a moment before he spoke again. "scouts spotted a rouge slotsyal above the plains this morning." he informed you. "be careful when you're out there."

"i wouldn't worry about that," you mumbled without thinking, stilling indistinctly before continuing your search.

"hm?"

"nothing. thanks for letting me know."

he nodded curtly, smile returning as he strolled past you. "you should visit more often." he suggested softly.

you eyed him, caught off guard by the shift in tone. "maybe." you answered truthfully.

your confusion of the interaction was overshadowed by the time crunch. you could review tarsem's conversation later. right now, you had a plan to bring to fruition.

you only prayed the great mother will look out for you in this, too.

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

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1d1195 · 3 months ago

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Toothpaste V

Read Toothpaste here | ~2.7k words

From me: There hasn't been a LOT of chat about this lately, but at the time, a LOT of you were asking for them to do it. Here it is 🤭

Warnings: a SEXTRA, smut without plot, oral (both) ((obviously))

Summary: “Is it true you can tell when someone’s given a blowjob when you’re examining their mouth?” She asked.

“Kitten,” he snorted shaking his head. “Not now.”

“Well, I mean, I don’t want anyone else looking in my mouth but you anymore so it doesn’t really bother me if that’s the case, but I feel like we should be warning the people more about this.”

Harry gently deposited her on his bed. Her dress fell dangerously high up on her thighs, barely covering where he wanted to see her most. He tugged the tie off and unbuttoned his shirt quickly. She bit her lip as she watched him undress. He was unbelievably hot. He undid his belt, and she gulped.

“Are y’nervous, kitten?” He asked.

She shook her head. “No, excited. Just...” she sighed. “You’re very sexy, it’s... a little hard to focus,” she admitted.

He chuckled. “Back at you, beautiful,” he assured her. He still had boxers on. They were black so they kept the outline of what had to be a massive dick based on the way it felt against her core. He knelt on the bed down near her feet and started to move toward her. His body created a warmth against her legs as he shifted further up. “Do y’want t’take your dress off? Or d’you want me t’do it? Or do y’want t’leave it on?” He wondered, touching the hem at her thigh. Her heart fluttered with the consent he was asking for. It made her dizzy.

“Y-you can take it off,” she stammered.

He chuckled. “You sure? You’re usually a little more confident, my love,” he practically cooed. “Where’s my flirty patient wanting t’open wide for me?” He winked but brought the hem of her dress up and over her hips, showing off the light pink underwear. They were smooth cotton, covering everything with lace trim. They were pretty. Just like her. “Y’want me to?” He wanted complete affirmation. She nodded holding his gaze as he lifted the pretty outfit over her head.

Harry was stunning, it looked like his abs had abs. His skin was tanned, inked, pretty and nearly golden. Her heart was in her throat. “You’re beautiful, kitten,” he murmured. His tone filled with a dream-like trance as he looked her over, his eyes drinking her over. “So, so pretty. Thought so since the day I met you.”

“Oh,” she swallowed unable to fully grasp that compliment. Her cheeks warmed at his assessment. “Take your boxers off, please,” she asked politely instead.

“Hmm?” He hummed with a smile twitching on his lips. “That’s m’confident girl,” he chuckled and slid the black fabric down his legs. She was right. His dick was big. It was thick and nearly pretty. “Y’okay?”

“Come here,” she ordered grabbing his hip. She practically was drooling more than when he had his fingers in her mouth trying to feel around for abnormalities. He shifted closer, his knees on either side of her hips, and the head of his cock almost touching her lips. He could feel her breath on it. She peered up at him almost innocently making him want to groan. Harry was so good about asking for consent, she wanted to reciprocate. “Can I—”

“Dear God,” he whispered. “Yes.”

She brought her lips around the head and wrapped her hand around the base of his dick still leaving inches of space between her mouth and hand. Harry made an embarrassing noise in the back of his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had his cock in their mouth. The dental practice took up so much of his time. He hadn’t even thought of someone sucking his dick in months. Not until he met the pretty girl doing just that right then.

She lapped at him sucking and drooling way too much. Drooling was natural, but this felt excessive, almost like she was panting to keep at the length of him. She bobbed up and down, stopping as her mouth met her hand lightly rubbing what she couldn’t fit between her lips. “Goddammit,” he moaned, threading his fingers loosely in her hair and cupping the side of her head. He didn’t press himself any further and she moaned softly with the feel of his fingers on her scalp. “Fuck,” he groaned tilting his head back. He had never inspected his ceiling before this moment, but it was short lived because the feel of her warm mouth made his eyes fall shut.

Harry’s dick in her mouth felt so good she was sure it would cure all her cavities which made exactly zero sense, but she was obsessed so instantly with his cock it was embarrassing. She wanted to suck it until her jaw hurt. Surely, he had something that could fix a jaw ache so she could continue. She pushed herself further, pressing him toward the back of her throat.

She pulled away slowly and then back down two more times before she pulled away for a moment. She took a deep breath as she paused. “Is it true you can tell when someone’s given a blowjob when you’re examining their mouth?” She asked.

“Kitten,” he snorted shaking his head. “Not now.”

He chuckled despite the pleasure she was bringing him. It was sinful, euphoric. It felt so good. It was almost embarrassing. “Open,” he ordered gripping himself and tapping the head of his dick on her outstretched tongue. She smiled almost proudly waiting for him to do more, perhaps. Harry moaned again at the sight of her. “You’re gonna make me come all over your pretty mouth,” he gripped her bottom jaw.

“That’s kind of my goal,” she shrugged.

Harry took a deep breath trying not to come at the sexiest thought in front of the sexiest girl. “You’re something else, beautiful,” he whispered running his finger along her jaw while she licked the length of him. He moaned again. “Can’t wait t’return the favor...”

She smiled, delight in her eyes as she sucked him down her throat again making him gasp and grab the back of her head. He didn’t want to push her too hard, but she grabbed at his thighs and pulled him toward him with pressure that indicated she wanted him to thrust himself into her mouth. “Oh Jesus Christ,” he hissed and very carefully with more control than even he could give himself credit for, he pumped himself into her mouth.

She moaned again at the feel of him all over her mouth. Her spit was dripping from the corners of her lips, it was getting all over Harry’s thighs, her chin, and Harry was beyond himself; how could she possibly be real? “Fuck, baby,” he moaned. She sighed her eyelashes fluttering. Harry noted her hand was between her thighs and he groaned, pulling away at the same time. “No,” he said hurriedly before he could finish. “That’s my job,” he said possessively and grabbed her hand and brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them before sucking her fingertips into his mouth.

“What’s your job?” She whispered breathlessly.

He smiled around her fingers and his gaze felt a thousand degrees too hot. Releasing her hand, he gently coaxed and turned her over until she was on her front. He pulled her hips up, her body arched into what could only be described as a half downward dog position from her knees. He moved her underwear aside with his fingers and before she could realize intent, his warm breath was on the most sensitive part of her body and his tongue licked a glorious stripe along the length of her slit. She gasped; her fingers dug into the pillow. She moaned as his lips sucked at her core, his tongue flat and warm and his breath was cool as he pulled back between each delicious lick making her mind forget all coherent thought.

Usually when her previous boyfriends went down on her she had a hard time focusing on the enjoyment of all it was supposed to be because she worried about her smell and taste. Harry made all that worry disappear. She couldn’t think about anything but how good it felt. How much she wanted his mouth on her pussy and that if the whole dentistry thing didn’t work out, she would be willing to convince him to do this for a career except she wouldn’t allow anyone to be at the receiving end of his tongue except herself.

“Oh my God,” she moaned into the pillow.

“So good, kitten,” he whispered against her core. “Knew y’would taste like heaven.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that a dentist was good with his mouth but maybe it was the duality of his hotness and his sweetness that made it feel extra incredible. Harry practically blushed when she flirted with him and yet his mouth was doing downright sinful things to her. It didn’t seem like her sexy boss (or was it her dentist? Or her boyfriend? God she really needed to define a concrete label for him), who was often very shy about her flirting was going to be eating her pussy like it was his job from behind. It was the stuff of fantasies.

“Harry,” she whined.

He groaned against her. The vibration on her clit made every feeling in her entire body amplify by three million. “Say m’name again, baby,” he encouraged.

“Harry,” she practically whimpered. “Feels... so good,” she managed. She barely had any wine at dinner, yet she felt drunk on him. His fingers were gripping her thighs, nearly massaging her in time with the strokes of his tongue. She thought she drooled a lot while she sucked him off, but that was hardly anything in comparison to how drenched she felt from her own arousal and his mouth.

“S’good, kitten. So good,” he encouraged. She didn’t know how he was positioned behind her, but his hand was suddenly between her legs, and she then she couldn’t care about the physics or logistics of his arm bending the wrong way because he was making her mind numb. He rubbed gentle, perfect circles on her clit that matched the tempo of his licks and the pressure of his tongue on her aching body so well that she thought she was going to explode.

“Harry,” she choked out again.

“Good girl, baby, so good,” he sounded ridiculous. Far away and too close. The pleasure that wound in her stomach snapped and she pressed herself toward him harder as her orgasm shook through her, she smacked her hand against the pillow and gasped loudly.

“Fuck,” she hissed never wanting the pleasure to stop. Harry pulled her toward him as he sucked her hard practically gulping as he licked her through one of the best orgasms she’d ever had in her life. Her body shook and shivered as the waves of dopamine coursed through her. Harry wanted to extend the feeling of pleasure for her for as long as possible, tonguing at her warm center admiring the way it fluttered around his tongue. When her hips dipped lower Harry removed his tongue from her pussy and he rubbed his thumbs softly on the back of her thighs. He pressed practically chaste kisses against her slit once she was licked her clean of all her arousal and his saliva.

She slumped forward and Harry chuckled from behind her kissing up the length of her spine. “Y’okay, my love?” He murmured.

“You...” she sighed. “You’re unreal.”

He smiled, turning her again until she was on her back once more. He kissed her forehead, running his thumb along her lip. “You taste so good,” he said simply. She didn’t know she needed reassurance for that fact, but it made the pleasure she experienced moments ago even better. Confident that she could do it again if Harry was willing. Harry wrapped her legs around his hips. “Are y’okay?” He asked.

“I think I’m drunk.”

“Y’hardly drank anything,” he looked smug as he smiled at her. That dimple, his teeth, his eyes all sparkled. If he were cartooned his grin would have been accompanied with a ding and literal sparkle on his cheek.

“Mmm,” she hummed.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked.

“Absolutely not,” she shook her head quickly. He chuckled and grabbed a condom from his night stand and rolled it on quickly. She continued. “I’m exhausted but you’re going to come tonight if it’s the last thing I do. Especially after the best orgasm of my life.”

“S’tragic if that’s the best orgasm y’ever had, pretty girl,” he chuckled and brushed the tip of his dick along the length of her slit the same way his tongue did the very same motion. “So pretty, baby,” he admired. He paused; his expression taking on the utmost seriousness as he looked at her directly in the eye. “We can still stop, if you’re tired. M’happy t’jus’ hold you for the rest of the night.”

Her heart hammered at the thoughtfulness while the head of his cock massaged her clit. “No way, I need to know what this feels like,” she assured him.

He smiled. “You’re sure?” He asked again.

“Do you want me to beg you to fuck me, Harry?” She teased with a smile of her own that she hoped would also be accompanied by a sparkle and ding if she were a cartoon as well.

“Fuck,” he groaned and sank into her. She gasped and clawed at the sheets. Harry dropped his head to her neck, holding her hips. No, she didn’t need to beg. But he couldn’t even say it. Her body fit his like a glove and he couldn’t stop himself from pumping into her so hard that the headboard smacked into his wall.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she moaned and wrapped her legs around his hips. Harry moaned in response against her throat, pressing kisses when his brain remembered to, but he was so overcome with the feel of her wrapped around his dick he could barely remember to breathe. Part of him thought he was going to pass out.

“Such a pretty pussy, kitten,” he mumbled. “So good. Feels so good,” he grunted snapping his hips forward. “Wish y’could feel how good...”

“Feels pretty good on my end,” she gasped. He chuckled and shook his head, tucking himself into her neck and wishing he could do this forever.

“Good,” he said simply.

She ran her hands through his lifting his head to kiss him as passionately as she could manage without running out of air. Her fingers pulled at his hair. She tried her very best to meet his hard thrusts with her hips rocking toward him each time he pressed into her, but Harry was in a zone. For a brief moment, she had a fleeting thought that Harry really might break her but then didn’t care. He felt so good inside her she would rather die right then than never experience how deliriously good this felt.

“M’sorry, my love, m’gonna come,” he warned, gasping, his hips hitting an irregular rhythm as he spoke against her mouth. His face dropped and pressed into the crook of her neck while he twitched inside her. His back felt damp along with his scalp as she ran her fingers through his messy hair.

“You were really going to stop all that and just hold me?” She whispered after a moment when his shuddering came to a stop.

He smiled against her skin and peppered a few kisses on her collarbone. “Mm,” he hummed. “Course. Sex with you may be the best I’ve ever had, but m’not your boyfriend solely for orgasms.”

Which took care of the label she needed to give him and the anxiety in her chest in one fell swoop. It took everything in her not to repeat how much she was falling for him like she did at dinner and again downstairs just a little bit ago. He lifted his head up and smiled at her, his eyes hooded. “Y’tongue tied ‘bout the word boyfriend?” She nodded silently. He chuckled. “Well, I’d like t’be your boyfriend, kitten. If s’something y’want.”

She nodded again silently. “I like that idea a lot.”

“Good, now open wide, gotta see if I messed up your palate,” he winked.

She snorted, blushed, and shook her head while he kissed along her collarbone again. “I knew you could tell.”

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

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#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #dentist!harry #toothpaste

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cintiri · 7 months ago

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I've read like all 4 docs on ao3 about SY and SJ sharing a body, and I'm soooo not normal about this concept oh my God. So, it's time to ramble about my take on the concept, of course.

Most things I have read have SY transmigrate at his usual date, but... What if he didn't? What if he transmigrated when SJ was a child on the streets?

For the purposes of this, the person who has the most control of the body is based around soul strength, willpower, and collaboration between souls.

In the beginning, SY has very low soul strength, since he just straight up died, but being a child, SJ's is not much better. They both have obscene amounts of willpower, see canon. And at the beginning? Oh, SJ does NOT want to collaborate.

SY hasn't really gotten the whole "baby scum villain" thing yet, and thinks his soul has been glued to a particularly annoying street kid, so he tries to be patient with SJ, but it's not easy! Holy shit, this kid is a turbo brat who hates him! He is constantly threatening to exorcize SY! Like, kid, you can't exorcize me, you're eight. But SY does end up being useful at times, pointing out danger, reading signs that SJ can't, using his adult knowledge to help him as best he can. By the time they get to the Qiu manor, SJ grudgingly trusts and is maybe attached to his weird ghost hanger-on.

And then the Qiu manor hits. It's... Bad. Really bad. Qi-Ge is gone, hopefully to come back to them someday, but someday is not now, and they need to survive the day. Shen Yuan can't get over the fact that this is just a kid, that all of this is happening to a child. He is an adult, maybe he's not the most responsible adult, or the best person to handle this situation, but damn it SY has to do something.

The first time Shen Yuan takes over completely, it's during a beating in the first week. Before, even if SY had some control of the body, SJ was usually able to yank it back at least partially when he wanted to. He was aware of what was going on. But this time, Shen Jiu feels the first few strikes hit his back before Shen Yuan bubbles up, wrapping around him and pulling him down into blissful oblivion.

When Shen Jiu wakes up, it's over, and Shen Yuan is using some meager supplies he got from god knows where to tend to their wounds. Shen Jiu is scared, he didn't know Shen Yuan could take over that completely, but he's also... Relieved. And confused.

"Why did you take over then? If you really could steal my body, why didn't you do it earlier?"

"You didn't deserve that, Shen Jiu. I- how could I see that and not try and help? Not try and protect you?"

Shen Jiu froze. And then, slowly, started crying. Almost immediately SY starts fussing, asking if their wounds hurt too badly, if he needs him to dull the pain more. SJ sniffles, wiping his eyes, and asks; "More?"

Shen Yuan never explains that, but as SJ goes through the Qiu manor, he realizes that he is absolutely not in as much pain as he really should be. It's easier to bear when the pain is shared between the two of them.

The first time that Qiu Jianluo realizes something is off is during one of his lessons. As the brush is placed in Shen Jiu's hands, the angry, venomous child behind a mask of fear fades away, and he is instead facing calm indifference. The characters are perfect, every one of them, even the ones which there is no possible way Shen Jiu should have been able to know.

This pattern continues. Shen Jiu knows things he shouldn't. He is abnormally good at talking circles around guards and other servants, confusing and manipulating them enough to evade Qiu Jianluos summons in ways that couldn't possibly be his fault, orchestrating many of their confrontations with Qiu Haitang around as protection.

Shen Jiu is a good actor, he's smart, he's quick, but he isn't a fully grown adult master poser like our Shen Yuan is. Shen Yuan, number one rules lawyer and actor, is incredibly good at driving Qiu Jianluo up the wall without him being able to retaliate, and when he does manage to get in a beating, SJ/SY is not nearly as responsive to the pain as he should be, and heals faster than he should.

This is because the lovely new flowers that Qiu Haitang has planted in the garden at SJs kind suggestion are a PIDW plant that provides accelerated healing.

Eventually, it's too much, and Qiu Jianluo KNOWS something is up. He calls a rogue cultivator by the name of Wu Yanzi in to investigate the problem, and Wu Yanzi finds, and exorcises it. Shen Jiu is terrified and panicked, and Wu Yanzi, who had seen Shen Jiu's high spiritual potential, places Shen Yuan into a spirit trapping pouch and tells Shen Jiu to burn the Qiu manor to the ground and bring him as much money and jewelry as possible if he wants his little ghost back.

So the Qiu Manor burns, and Shen Jiu joins Wu Yanzi, significantly less willingly this time. Qi-Ge is nowhere to be seen, and Shen Yuan isn't there to save him anymore.

Shen Jiu supposes he will have to save himself.

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #shen jiu #shen yuan #shen brothers #also SY has been taking like absurd amounts of pain #like. scary amounts. to the point where SJ is gonna be fucked up for a bit by the chronic pain that has manifested on him by SY leaving #SJ is in far worse shape health wise then canon #rip #thats the SY stubbornness for you #big brother ghost au

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radiant-reid · 1 year ago

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Reunion

Summary: JJ never knew you were dating one of her teammates and that you broke up because of her, but seeing him at JJ's wedding years later changes things.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then smutttt)

Content Warning: 18+ Smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, a little bit of a breeding kink)

Word Count: 2.1k

"So, how's mystery boy?"

After skipping your usual Tuesday night plans twice, thanks to JJ being away on cases, you're finally back in your best friend's living room having a glass of wine and a cheese platter.

It's been an abnormal amount of time to go without seeing each other since you both ended up in DC after moving out of East Allegheny to different colleges. Even with men in the mix now, you both make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. However, her busy schedule and frequent flights to New Orleans have meant you've spent some time apart.

Unknown to her, she knows the so-called mystery boy. Very well, in fact. "He's well." You say slyly, unable not to grin widely.

JJ throws her head back dramatically. "Come on, Y/n! Some detail would be nice."

"It's good." You try again. "He's the sweetest. I'm very happy."

She smirks, letting you know an interesting question is coming your way. "How's the sex?"

It never takes more than a glass of wine for her to be that loose. You don't miss a beat in your answer. "Fabulous."

"Okay, so can I meet him soon?" She pushes like she has been for quite some time.

You wonder what she would think. What would her expression do if you were to say his name out loud right here? Maybe it's not that deep but getting with JJ's closest colleague is dangerous. It was a concern at the start, a reason not to start, but you fell in love with Spencer Reid quicker than you could ever imagine.

"Sure, JJ." You agree, trying to look positively about it. You can only assume she's thinking about the worst possible scenario about your mystery man. He's a criminal or he's far too old for you or he's an ex you promised not to get back with. There are too many options.

She looks triumphant. "Yes!"

You just smile, sending the conversation in a different direction by asking about her boyfriend. He sounds like a great guy and you can tell she's happier than ever before.

Three months ago you met Spencer Reid. It was JJ's birthday and your duty as her best friend to throw her a fun surprise party. That took some coordination with a friend from work. Firstly, that was Penelope, but in order to lure JJ, you needed Spencer Reid. He was a little slow with replying to your texts, but lovely. And after you met him, you were hooked.

Spencer was perfect. Gorgeous, funny, intelligent. His incredible shyness had you confused when he asked you out for dinner the next morning.

Too many espresso martinis provide an explanation for why JJ has no recollection of you flirting with him all night.

You see Spencer as much as you can, but similar to JJ's, his schedule often doesn't allow for consistent visits. So whatever time you do have, you make the most of it. He's still the most amazing boyfriend you've had. Kind, caring, witty, fun, and playful.

He gets whisked away on a case to Miami not long after being home. You didn't know things would be so different the next time you saw him.

He goes quiet on you. You know their cases are intense but you haven't heard from him in an entire week and that's not right.

Can I come over? He finally texts you and you're guessing he's back in DC.

It sounds a little ominous and the message sends a chill down your spine. Sure. I can't wait to see you. There isn't a reply and you sit in limbo in your apartment for almost an hour before he knocks at the door.

You smile when you open it, although you're slightly annoyed there was zero communication or ETA from him. "Hey, Spence, how was it?"

"You knew." He says in a cold, accusatory tone. It's nothing you've ever heard from him.

"Sorry?" You repeat, moving to the side so he can come into your apartment.

He steps in, barely looking at you. "About JJ and Will." He explains.

A little frown takes over your expression. Surely he's not angry that he only just found out. An awkward laugh leaves your lips. "Sorry, Spence. She didn't want anyone knowing."

"I'm your boyfriend!" He exclaims. "You're not supposed to lie to me."

"I didn't." You join the offensive, crossing your arms. You're not enthused about what he's accusing you of. It wasn't even your secret to tell him.

He looks disappointed, face dropping. "Come on." He sighs. "How am I meant to be with you if you don't trust me enough to tell me who our friend is dating?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell." You try to talk some reason into him, pushing down that sick feeling in your stomach telling you that he's breaking up with you.

Spencer shakes his head, his decision- as much as it's killing him- completely made. "I can't do this."

His words make your world come crashing down and you almost can't believe it. You slump to the couch while he makes his way to the door with sad, slow footsteps.

He's looking at you, waiting for you to ask him to say. "Can we not tell JJ?" You ask softly.

"Fine." That's the last thing he tells you before walking out the door, shutting it firmly.

That's it.

The last thing Spencer tells you.

Then he's gone from your life. You talk about him less to JJ and she picks up on what happened and stops asking about him.

You expect to see him when Henry's born, or even at a point in his life. Somehow, you don't. Your schedules never line up and then JJ switches jobs. There's a myriad of reasons but it doesn't happen. You both go on with separate lives.

And then JJ and Will are getting married. You get a frantic call from your best friend's soon-to-be-husband who whispers secret plans to you over the phone. It's perfect, you know JJ will adore the simplicity and elegance of a backyard wedding.

You're there as soon as you can be, helping set up Rossi's backyard so it's gorgeous for the most gorgeous person you know.

You're the maid of honor, of sorts. And you don't get a chance to ask who the best man is before JJ arrives and the ceremony begins.

You strike out as soon as you spot a tall brunette. A tall brunette who made you the happiest you've ever been with a man. And he's still just as handsome.

His eyes bulge when he sees you but he keeps a straight face and clenches his teeth while the ceremony continues. You're mostly focused on how beautiful JJ looks and how sweet their wedding is, but you can't help your mind drifting to Spencer.

You hadn't seen him dressed up like this when you were dating and the tuxedo is a perfect look on him.

"Y/n." He comes up to you when you're getting yourself a glass of champagne.

"Spencer." You reply. His tone doesn't let much about how he's feeling on. All you get is a glimmer of shock.

He stands against the table. "Maid of honor?"

You shrug, a little confused at his question. "You know, I'm surprised I haven't seen you all these years." You admit, letting some honesty slip.

"It was slightly intentional." He offers.

You don't let it offend you. "Best man?"

"I think that means we're supposed to sleep together."

You nearly spit out your sip of wine. There's no way the shy Spencer Reid you once knew just said that.

"We've done that." You reply, trying to keep a straight face after the out-of-pocket comment.

Spencer tilts his head to the side. "You're right."

You really don't know how it happens. Maybe it's a few too many drinks. There's definitely not enough alcohol in your bloodstream to solely blame that. Spencer Reid is as hot as they get. And it's been... longer than you're willing to admit since you've had sex. Even longer since it was good sex.

So there isn't anything telling you to stop when Spencer pushes you up against the door of a room in Rossi's house, lips firmly against yours.

Your dress is hiked up around your waist while his fingers trace up and down your thigh before he even thinks about locking the door. Both of you are far too wrapped up in the moment to think securely.

His hands are quick to the zip of your dress, sliding it down effortlessly and letting it pool at your feet. He takes a moment to look at you and you have to admit, you're a little worried about his reaction. You don't doubt Spencer Reid can pull beautiful women.

"God, you're gorgeous." He says softly, juxtaposing the way he's practically clawing your clothes off you.

"Are you going to compliment me or fuck me like you promised you would?" You ask him, waltzing over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Spencer smirks at your smart mouth. "You asked for it."

He's kneeling on the floor in front of the bed in seconds, with no regard for his suit pants being wrinkled, just on his knees. There's a sense of urgency that doesn't allow for the time for him to take your panties off so he opts for shifting them to the side.

There's also no time to waste as his tongue melds with your folds, tracing patterns. No one has ever come close to giving head like Spencer does. It's truly mindblowing, the pressure of his tongue and the suction method he uses. You're instantly in bliss, head thrown back against the covers as you moan.

You've lost it when his fingers enter you, pushing past with little resistance. "Holy shit, Spencer. You're incredible."

"Sing my praises." He says against your pussy.

You do. Not even possessing the ability to be embarrassed about it.

And you don't stop. You're withering and moaning on the bed, tugging his curls while he continues pleasing you. Eventually, it's too much. His fingers pumping in and out of you combined with his tongue wrapped around your clit have you finishing in no time.

"Still as good as I remember." As if he couldn't get any hotter, he sucks his fingers into his mouth.

Spencer rises from his knees, now much taller than you. You tug your underwear off before unclipping your bra. "Fuck me, Spencer." You reach out for his belt buckle, toying with it. "Please."

Spencer has lost the shy, timid nature he had the first few times you had sex and he quickly takes off his belt and pants. Once his suit jacket is tossed across the room, Spencer pulls your legs to the end of the bed, making sure you wrap your ankles around his waist. His hands rest on either side of your head and you're precisely where you want to be.

"You're so hot." You tell him with a smirk.

He grins, spreading your legs and inching inside you. The look on his face is an instant confidence boost. Clearly, he's a man in bliss, head thrown back and tongue parting his lips.

"Fuck." He pants.

You agree, barely able to speak from how hard he's pounding you and how good it feels. Although it's annoying to admit, you've never had as good sex as with Spencer.

Your hands wrap around his forearms, noticeably bigger than last time. "Spencer." You moan. "Please. So good."

He caresses your chest, paying attention to your boobs like he hadn't before. "Y/n." He groans, not slowing his pace up. His hips snap against yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. "Can I?" He asks.

It's unlike you to have even let him start without protection but you're not thinking straight enough. All you know is you need Spencer. "Please."

He finishes as deep inside you as he can get, leaning down to kiss you softly. You're breathless like he is when he flops down next to you.

One of Spencer's palms touches your cheek, forcing you to look at him rather than the ceiling. "Hey, pretty girl." He says softly and it makes your heart flip in a way it shouldn't. "Can I take you on a date, Y/n?"

The smile creeping onto your face can't be helped. "Yes. Please."

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