#I am fully unconscious after sex now

[trash-and-trash-accessories]

"Post-nut clarity" What a fucking lie. The phrase you are looking for is post-nut unconsciousness. Post-nut sleepiest person ever. Post-nut honk-shoo-mimimi. What are you even talking about?

[demonsword586]

Leviathan Attacker part 5

(Out of context,I am a bit afraid of getting taken down. Since I'm pretty sure we all heard what happened to whb wiki and the person in charge of it. As of now there is ln't too much info but apperantly someone reported them and they had to take down all the pics and audios and their blog is also down?! I dunno,I'm just a bit nervous for everyone who is posting a lot of PB's work in case we also get reported and all of this would go to hell.I really hope the person who arcvhived everything for the public isn't in a lot of trouble. It hurts seeing someone who worked so hard for this fandom get ghosted out of existence. Anyway enjoy your horny deer boy)

Leviathan: Ku,urgh...

Leviathan stiffened for moment.

Not because he had calmed down,but because he had ejaculated largly inside !ou again.

A great rush of pleasure,washed over you as you felt your stomach fill with his fluids again. At the same time,you began to feel something else fill you.

MC: How....Why...are you getting harder?!

As you screamed,Leviathan began thrusting inside you roughly,as though the tightwned grip on his throat has made him more than pleased.

You tried to calm Leviathan down somehow,placing a hand over your hole to stop his cock but it backfired.

He buckled his hips harder,as if your touch has made him even more excited.

Each time he did so,the rattling balls beneath his cock,slapped against your bottom

Unable to resist the pleasure that had taken over your head,your hand that was holding the curtain ribbon finally let go.

Wheter you passed out or died while having sex with him,it would be a death of luxury that would make the former devils of Hades jealous.

With those thoughts,you began to mark Leviathan's entire body as if in a final act of death.

You pulled yourself up by placing one hand behind your back and with your free hand you frantically grabbed Leviathan's shoulders,forearms and chest,punching and slapping,embracing the pleasure that was driving you.

In the meantime,your soften and swollen hole and Leviathan's fully hardened flesh were rubbing against each other,producing an endless stream of moisture.

You had a feeling that Leviathan was about to ejaculate again.

This time however,you wanted him to call out your name,rather than to come inside you in a daze.

MC: Leviathan...ugh..Levi...ah!..than...Who am I?

Leviathan: Shut up.....

MC: Look properly...mmgh...Who am I?

Leviathan: Urgh...fuck...Mc

Your fingertips and toes twiched and your eyes narrowed as the perfect auditory stimulus was applied.

It was like a bull running downhill after being kicked in the bottom and then being lifted back up in the air.

In a moment that felt very long,you tightened your inner walls with all the strenght your body could mutter, in your almost unconscious state.

Leviathan: Kurgh?!

Leviathan's eyes seem to turn bright red,and then he buckled his hips harder than you expected,spewing a massive load of cum into you.

MC: No...there's...no more space inside my stomach...I think it will come out of my mouth!

You uttered something,you didn't even know you were saying.

At the same time,a large fountain splashed unknowingly between your legs.

You felt giddy,like you had just ejaculated for the first time in your life and your whole body tingled.

You had a lot of expectations and fantasies about love and sex in your life,including a variety of diffrent and somewhat bizzare,if you will,delusions as well.

Like the clinches that weren't used that much these days even in the K-dramas that Minhyeoks family enjoyed watching.

Sex with Leviathan however,went far beyond that and fulfilled your most basic desires.

The feeling of being a female,being completely owned and held by the strongest male in the world.

That was an expwrience you would never felt on Earth.

MC: Ha...ha...ha...

A feeling of exaustion beyond a pleasant langour washed over you.

MC:( Will I...really die like this?...From coition death?!)

That was a death that was very becoming of you in itself. But...

MC: ( I'd feel a little bad for Minhyeok if I died like that...)

The moment the thought struck,Leviathan's eyes which seemed to be locked in a state of perfect pleasure flashed with frightwning intensity.

The half-dazed,half-crazed look he had before was now nowhere to be seen.

Leviathan: Who are you thinking of,when me is infront of you?

Leviathan: When I am filling you to the brim like this!

The aura of jealousy dripping from his eyes rwminded you of cum drippi g from his cock.

MC: Levi..ahtan...are you,ugh..awake,agh?!

For a moment you wondered if Levoathan had come to his senses and was done with this act.

He was rubbing his penis that was dripping wirh cum over your genitals.

You were already feeling lanquid,but as he gently rubbed himself on you,you felt sleep wash over you with a faint sense of pleasure.

The cum he'd ejaculated was dripping down but he coudn't be bothered.

MC: Leviathan...

Leviathan: What?

MC: Are you still cold?

Leviathan: !

Leviathan widened his eyes in slight suprise,before returning to his normal expression.

And then he carefully brushed the wet hair off your cheek with a hot hand.

Leviathan:....It's warm.

MC: That's a relief.

You said and completely fell asleep.

You opened your bleary eyes,feeling the sun gently warm your cheeks.

MC: Leviathan...?

You were laying on Leviathan's bed alone.

Barbatos: Ah,are you awake? MC? I understand that you would suddenly open your eyes because the sun makes you feep good!

Foras: ...But it may have been to keep your eyes closed for longer.

Foras said kindly,seriously approaching the bed.

There was already a blanket someone put on top of you,but Foras pulled it up some more,covering you snugly to the base of your neck.

Foras: His Majesty Leviathan is away on urgent state affairs. And he assured us to take good care of you.

You were dissapointed not to see Leviathan when you opened your eyes,but you were pleased that he assured them to take good care of you.

Glasyal La Bolas: Keke,Foras. I think it was too much for his Majesty Leviathan instead! You really must have intended on squezzing out all of the seeds inside his Majesty Leviathan.

Said Glasyal La Bolas,pointing to the curtain ribbon which still smelled thickly of Leviathan.

MC: Huh? What do you mean?

Glasyal La Bolas: Did you know that when they hang death-row convicts,they place a bucket under them?

MC: No? Why do they do that?

Glasyal La Bolas: Because men ejaculate a massive amount just before they die whrn they're hung. They ejaculate all the remaining cum inside of their bodies.

Glasyal La Bolas: They're trying to plant a seed somehow just before they die.

Foras: It doesn't have to be strangluation,but creatures have an instinctive reaction to death.

Foras: For example,ejaculating when stiching up a severed arm that's incredibly painful or when your throat is slit.

MC: !

You suddenly realized why strangling Leviathan has backfired.

Hanging already made you instinctevly ejaculate and Leviathan was a devil who even had a fetish for strangulation.

MC: ( I was out of my mind! I didn't think of that before...)

You felt embarrassed realizing in hindsight ypu had encouraged Leviathan.

And at the same time Glasyal La Bolas's words felt like a clue.

MC:....Today,Leviathan was strange. He was immensely....

Barbatos: I know.

MC: Why is Leviathan...

Why did Leviathan look sad? Why did he say unintelligible things? Why did he indulge himself so much? They were questions with many answers,but Barbatos's wistful face prevented you from saying more.

Foras began to speak as though he understood the meaning behind your question.

Foras: Rather than being today,but today a long time ago.

Foras: Is the day he escaped the farm in Heaven.

Foras: That day he only had two choices: to live or to die.

MC: Oh..!

Only then did you understand the unintelligible words Leviathan had been muttering.

MC: (Having to avoid cold,dangerous places to somewhere safe and warm...)

Glasyal La Bolas: He would only have one thought "I have to survive because I ran at the price of everyone else's lives".

Barbatos: On the same day every year,survival instincts are expressed as trauma.

Barbatos: He doesn't like to be around a lot of devils at this time of year. Yes,agoraphobia in human terms.

Too many thoughts filled your mind,and you went blank for a moment.

Foras: This time MC,I think we have something to thank you for. The beautiful palace is intact.

Barbatos: True! The palace that doesn't need repairs is the best! The architect devil will be happy

MC: What do you mean by that?

Foras: Normally...Theres no telling what his Majesty Leviathan will do with his overflowing lust and rage for the angels on this day,and it usually results in the destruction of the palace.

MC: He destroys the palace?

Glasyal La Bolas: The main hall is submerged up to the ankles in cum.

Foras: Sometimes a coffin will appear and he summon an apostle,and we have to risk our lives to stop it.

Foras: The grief,fear,anger and responisbility he feels today would be hard for even God to handle.

Barbatos: You're the first one ever to accept it all.

Barbatos spoke proudly,but he had a subtle look on his face.

MC: (He's like Leviathan when he's jelaous...)

You sat up and thought of the many expressions Leviathan pulled a while ago. Just then...

Splash!

When Glasyal La Bolas stomped his feet with a grin,the liquid on the floor of Leviathan's bedroom that was about a finger's lenght high belatedly caught your eyes.

MC: Why is the floor in the bedroom so splashy?..

Glasyal La Bolas: (dark grin) It's the liquid you and his Majesty squirted.

Glasyal La Bolas said flippantly and Foras glared at him fiercly.

Foras: Anyway,its all thanks to you that this beautiful palace wasn't destroyed.

Foras: I'm glad that the landscape is the same now as it was when you came here today.

Barbatos: It's like a sword that's been cutting through everything it touches because it doesn't have a sheat now has a sheat!

At Barbatos's words,you felt your stomach tightened involuntarily as though you could feel Leviathans presence again,filling your insides.

Drip-!

Some of the liquid that still filled your stomach to the brim dribbled out.

Noticing the subtle change in your expression,Foras stepped closer and laid you back down.

Foras: Sleep some more now. We'll clean this up.

Foras's soft voice and warm touch drew on the languor you had forgotten about.

The moment you nodded and lay back down,Leviathan's thick scent on the sheets enveloped you.

When you opened your eyes again,you were in Gehenna.

And that night you had a good dream.

A dream of walking on the beautiful streets of Hell with younger Leviathan,his flesh smooth and unblemished.

There,Leviathan didn't have cold,cramped or dangerous memories.

As you smiled in your sleep,Leviathan also had the same expression as he slept in Hades.

As the two were dreaming the same dream.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[2:49 am]

(cw: mentions of sex but there’s none I promise)

"Agh! Oh fuck!" You heard, even through the flat pillow pressed to your ear.

You were frustrated, on the brink of angry crying. Sometimes you hated being at the frat house, and this was one of those moments. These moments didn't happen often. One, because fratboy!Jaehyun often spent the night at your dorm, or two, his frat brothers weren't fucking at 2- nearly 3 in the morning!

You couldn't even tell who it was and you didn't want to know, all you wanted was to fall asleep and hope that you didn't hear this girl moaning in your sleep.

But it didn't happen, in fact, you started hearing bumping against the wall. God, this was awful.

You sat up angrily, ripping the comforter off your body and got out of the bed.

Jaehyun blinked his eyes open groggily, "Baby? What's wrong?"

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes to find a sense of calm and only felt brief relief of your burning eyes. "I'm going home," you answered bluntly.

You moved around the room, pulling on one shoe while grabbing one of Jaehyun's hoodies.

Jaehyun got out of bed, too stumbling after you, clearly tired and confused. "It's like 3 in the morning, you're not going home right now."

"Exactly! I've been laying on a mattress barely thicker than a textbook, with flat pillows, a sheet that clearly doesn't fit, and one of your disgusting frat brothers has decided this is the perfect time to fuck at normal volume. I'm just so tired!" You exclaim, tired tears filling your eyes.

Jaehyun's eyes widen in shock, he pulls you into a hug, rubbing a comforting hand up and down your back. When he finally listens in, he can hear the moans and grunts coming from nearby and wonders how that hadn't woken him up too.

"I'll handle all of it ok? You're not leaving, it's late and I'd rather you stay here. Just lay down, I'll get you another blanket, and you don't have to worry your pretty little head about anything else," he tells you before pressing a kiss to your forehead and leading you back to his bed.

He quickly adjusts the sheets, fluffing up his pillows, and lays out another blanket for you. He pulls some white noise machine he'd won as a white elephant gift out of the closet and puts on calming ocean noises on for you before he slips out of his room, making sure his door is closed behind him.

He walks down the hall until he finds the door where the noise is coming from. Haechan's door. He knocks for a while until the door opens to reveal a smiley, fully dressed, Haechan. "What's up, bro?"

Jaehyun raises his eyebrows as he peeks inside, there's no one there. "Did your girl escape through the window?" Jaehyun asks.

"What girl?"

"I heard you fucking bro. There was some girl moaning and you were banging on the wall. My girl has been awake for hours trying to sleep because of you," Jaehyun explains, running a tired hand down his face.

Haechan flushes bright red, he looks a little embarrassed, "So I was up gaming, but you guys get mad when I yell so I started playing porn really loud so you guys might understand more."

Jaehyun deadpans, "for four hours? Your ass can't hang that long. What the hell was the bumping into the wall?"

"Some fucking noob on my own team killed me," Haechan rolls his yes, "And yes I can hang. Ask your mom."

Jaehyun shoots him a look, crossing his arms across his chest, almost asking Haechan to keep talking about his mom.

"Sorry, I mean ask your girl. Night bro, tell our girl sorry. I'll make it up to her later," Haechan adds before quickly closing and locking his door. This fucking kid.

Jaehyun shuffles back to his room, tired and cold. He steps back into the room, confused when he hears whale noises before remembering his new white noise machine.

He pulls the covers back only to find you sprawled out across the mattress with a few inches of space left for him. He can't even resist the affectionate chuckle that escapes him. He slips into bed and you immediately turn into him unconsciously, cuddling him in your sleep.

He doesn't think he's ever going to love anyone as much as he loves you.

-

a/n: while I have you here, please check out this post and let me know your thoughts, thankssss🫶🏼

[poundstonaira]

Premonition - Albert Wesker x Reader

CW: PinV, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Age Difference, Doctor Reader, Good Albert Wesker, Doggy, Dubious Consent, Friendly Experiment, Porn with Plot, Possessiveness, Resident Evil 0 Wesker.

Word Count: 7,057

Song Inspiration : Moment by Victoria Moment

Summary: You should've known something was wrong as soon as your hard-headed, cold, hostile, and rude boss easily agreed to help you with your experiment for the effects of the new drug you developed by yourself. Yet, you ignored all worries and thought nothing of it. Silly you.

“Oh Dr. Wesker~” You sang behind your boss, tapping your red bottom pumps on the floor to get his attention even more. Since your boss was so stern and hostile all the time, you attempted to put effort into trying to get some physical emotion out of the man every time you greeted him. From your getting, he only turned his head to look at you with a straight face, but you could tell he was also looking at you in disgust from behind those black shades of his.

“What do you want?” He asked disinterestedly, his hands in his lab coat pockets, seeming as if he was eager for you to leave him alone. 

“To bother you.” You stuck your tongue at him. At this action, your boss started to walk away, not in the mood for your childish attitude. You quickly walked up behind him and tapped his shoulder. “I’m joking. I have developed a new supplement and I need someone to experiment on-” 

“Go ahead and find someone else to use. I am not your mutt.” Wesker stated bluntly, not looking at you. Hearing that stung a little bit, but that was the expected attitude coming from the man. It still wasn’t nice to hear. You started to think back on if this was all worth it, was it a good thing he doesn’t want to help you? You haven’t even told him the planned experiment yet and he’s already refusing to help you. Maybe this is a sign that you should get someone else to help you, just as he said. 

But it’s too bad, your young, persistent self refuses to accept this rejection. You stood firm and let out a huff. 

“You’re right, you’re not.” You started, which caused Wesker to turn around face you fully, his eyebrow raised in what seems like amusement. “You are my colleague. You’re my boss. Which means I think you should help me.” You finished, your eyes were squinted as you held your notepad tightly to your chest in hopes that he doesn’t reject you again.

Who are you kidding? He’s Albert Wesker. He’s a cold son of a bitch. Of course it’s going to be nearly impossible to get him to help you with anything. 

“What makes you think you have the privilege to ask me to do you any favors?” He questioned you and you could’ve sworn the side of his lip curved upward, as if he was trying to mock you. 

“If you help me, I’ll never bother you for anything again, not even trying to wear your stupid sunglasses.” You had to look away, pouting your lips. Now you were feeling cold sweat run down your spine. Was it really wise to call his glasses ‘stupid’? He wears them all the time, even when it is nighttime and underground.  

Wesker then lets out a deep sigh and adjusts his glasses.

“My sunglasses are not stupid but fine, get on with it.” 

Your eyes lit up, mouth slightly agape. There’s no way. Just like that? 

…

“You made a pill to enhance sexual performance? That already exists.” Wesker spoke as he took off his lab coat and put it on the hook near your desk. 

Your desk had a computer on it that was bluetoothed to the bed itself. When powered on, the computer tracks and sees sounds and images from the person who was on the bed, but that was only if they were unconscious. How did you engineer it to work? You don’t even know yourself.

“Correct but, the effect is different on the human body. The one I made first makes the body sleepy, then falls into a dormant state, after that, supposedly, the human will then have… suggestive dreams. Dreaming about their crush or significant other…” You had to look away due to immense embarrassment, your face got hot. “Erm… fucking them.”

Wesker took those black sunglasses off and side-eyed you so hard it felt as if he was ripping your soul apart with those aegean blue eyes of his. How beautifully damaging. You still feel them on you, even though you were looking away.

“You’re crazy.” Wesker let out a deep sigh. You look back to see Wesker running a hand through those luscious, blond locks of hair. The sight slightly made your heart swoon. It’s not as if you had a crush on your boss or anything, you just found him to be really attractive. Then again, what did I expect from a 23 year old woman?” 

“I get it, Albert. You’re touching 40.” Wesker shook his head.

“Hurry up, I want to go home.” 

“Never knew you were such a grumpy old man, doctor. It’s only 9PM.” You let out a dry laugh.

“You don’t know what it's like having two jobs, little girl.”  

“Anyways, here you go. Take it when you’re ready.” Once Wesker sat on the bed, you carefully eyed the blue capsule and a cup of water in his hands.

Nothing should go wrong. Matter of fact, you don’t think anything is going to happen to Wesker, considering how he has “superior” genes or whatever that means. 

Watching Wesker’s dream was like watching an unreleased sex-tape that had to stay private because of how lewd it was. You’ve never done half of the things he was imagining with you. 

You guys were both naked,your underwear, bra, your bodycon dress, red bottom pumps, and white lab scattered on the floor next to Wesker’s black clothing and his lab coat. You were posed like a nymphomaniac, on your hands and knees, looking back at your boss with a flushed, sensual expression on your face. Eyes squinted, mouth opened from panting, the aftermath of him eating you out.   

“I have waited a long time for this moment. I thought of you. What I would do with you. How many ways I could give you pleasure.” Through his black boxers, you could see how hard he was for you, he ached for you. His erection was so hard, you could’ve sworn that the fabric of the boxers had ripped just from the tip of it. And, damn was he big. 

It didn’t matter how many times you blinked or pinched yourself. What you were seeing on the screen was indeed, a combined build of almost everything your boss has been wanting to do to you. 

You saw him pull his boxers down to reveal his long length. You almost would have woken his actual body up with how loud you yelped at the sight of it on screen. You can’t even write any notes about your current experiment down because you were in absolute shock. This man was an absolute Greek god, or so you thought.

He was so eager that he didn’t even bother to tease your wet sex, he thrusted right into you with brute force, earning a loud, wanton moan from you. It didn’t cover up the wet, moist sound of him entering you, though.

“I was bewildered when you told me earlier that you were able to develop a drug all by yourself…” On the screen, you saw him give your hair a sharp tug as he thrusted into you again, you heard yourself yelp. “You’re such a good girl, doctor. I knew you could make me proud.” 

You were so stunned that tears threatened to leave your eyes. Your mouth was so wide open that you were practically drooling at the sight of yourself getting fucked by Wesker. There is just no way on this planet that Wesker out of all people thought of you like that. 

The stopwatch was currently at seven minutes in on the dot. You decided to try and write down some notes of how the experiment was going so far. But what would you even write down when you literally hear boss’s imagination of the dream him fucking you from behind? Not to mention his actual body on the bed is sweating, letting out loud, shaken breaths. His erection threatened to make a hole in the black slacks that he was currently wearing.

There was too much going on. And what would happen to you when your boss wakes up? Would he fire you? Would he punish you? You don’t even want to think about it. Then again, he did agree to this. But, you didn’t think that the blue capsule would have this much of an effect on him, you thought with how strong he was, how he rarely gets sick, ,and how superior his genetics are, nothing would have happened to him.

‘There is absolutely too much going on. I’m even scared to leave the room. Oh goodness gracious. What was I thinking?’  

It got even worse. With one hand, he held onto your hips, the other hand had already gone to your hair again, pulling it as he kept his brutal attacks to your sex. You heard yourself screaming in pleasure so loud, you could’ve sworn people in the other labs could hear you. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was only on the screen and not happening in real life. 

You could throw up right now with how overwhelmed you felt. You tried to ignore the warm pool you felt in your stomach but you couldn’t. Were you really getting aroused by watching your boss’ dreams? What was happening to you? Sure, Wesker was a fine man. You could even say he was crafted from the Gods themselves. He had it all; the height, the body, the grace, the voice, the aura, the abs for crying out loud. But, you have never stooped so low that you could even imagine yourself getting a chance to sleep with him. Not like this. This was purely by chance. 

Your legs felt weak and your body almost went limp as the noises of your whimpers and high pitched moans, combined with Wesker’s low growls and grunts. Hearing him and you was almost driving you mad at this point. You wanted to wake him up but you hesitated, not knowing what’ll happen to you if you did. At the same time, you were almost about to jump out the nearest window if you were to hear the sounds of your boss fucking the shit out of you for even a minute longer.

‘What have I done?’ You said to yourself, your hands now to your mouth again as you attempted to suppress another gasp. You could truly throw up right now.  

“I-I can’t take it anymore… I think I’m gonna come…” You heard yourself gasp, afraid that you couldn’t accommodate his body. Not like this, not when he gripped your hips and pulled your ass back toward, as he drove in relentlessly, ruthlessly into your tight channel once again. You were such a whimpering, whining, moaning mess under his touch. The sounds of skin slapping and the bed squeaking very loudly filled the room.

“That’s it, my gorgeous slut. Come for me. Burn for me.” He leaned to whisper into your ear, releasing a low chuckle right after, showing a devilish smile. You could’ve fallen to your knees at the sight. You were trapped in his hold, he took his time as he still continued his assault on your pussy. You saw your own tear-filled eyes trying to stay open, mouth slightly ajar with drool dripping from it, hands losing the strength to grip onto the sheets still. 

It seemed as if Wesker was fucking you so hard that you were about to pass out. 

‘Am I about to pass out?’ You thought to yourself, still watching in shock. 

You heard Wesker reach his climax as he let out a deep moan, panting right after. On the other hand, you actually passed out on the bed, covered in sweat as Wesker’s hands were still on you. He pulled out, his cum dripping out of you and on the bed between your legs. Drip. Drip. Drip.  

  ‘What the hell did I just watch?’ You blinked rapidly. Now staring at your boss' physical body, he cock got harder, from inside his pants, he was sweating himself, that handsome, sculpted face of his slightly twitched from what seems like both arousal and uncomfort. The screen turned off, which meant that Wesker is not dreaming anymore and that he will awaken soon.

Your whole body was shaking now. There were a plethora of emotions that you were feeling. But which exact emotion were you feeling precisely? Was it confusion? Were you shocked? Were you surprised? Were you disgusted that your boss basically dreamed of doing this to you? Did he actually want to do this to you or was this the effect of the capsule? You wrote down everything that just happened in a few, messy bullet points before you heard some heavy breathing from the bed. 

Albert’s eyes were open.

"Doctor Wesker? Is everything okay?" You asked, walking closer to him. His eyes finally landed on you after staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours. 

He does nothing but stare at you with narrowed eyes and a slightly opened mouth as he breathes heavily, still sweating. He appears to be getting off the bed and slowly coming towards your direction.

"Oh no..." You mutter to yourself, backing away and running towards the door. At this point, your body felt light, your organs started to sink towards your stomach along with your heart. You open the door quickly, thanking yourself for not locking it earlier. You run out trying to find another room to hide in.

This isn't good. Wesker didn't even have to say anything to you for you to know his next actions. You were his target. And, to make things even better for yourself, it was literally only you two in the whole building, which meant that most of the doors in the hallways were locked. Great.

Running down the hall was one thing, but here Wesker's footsteps basically right behind you doesn't help the fact that you feel your heart in your stomach, you're sweating, and you're visibly shaking. You didn't think this would happen. 

With your white lab coat and the low-heeled red bottoms you chose to wear were slowing you down, you were already running out of stamina and options. 

'Shit. What do I do?' You turn around to see Wesker already three feet away from you. You don't look at his face in case you fall into his charms even more, trying to forget the way he was fucking you in his dream on the screen earlier. 

You can run away but, what was the point? You got him and yourself into this, even if you didn't think it would end up like this. 

You still decided to run further down the hallway. Your shorter legs compared to Wesker had nothing compared to his long, slow strides towards your moving position. Your heart stopped as you felt a sharp tug on your white lab coat, the tug was so strong that you lost your balance, which resulted in you falling back onto Wesker’s chest with a thump and a small scream at the feel of his erection against your backside. 

"Where do you think you're running to, Doctor?" He whispered in your ear. That low, deep transatlantic accent sends shivers down your spine. 

"..." You were speechless, you let out a small, nervous laugh, accepting your fate. “Uhm…” You looked for your answer but couldn’t find it. The proximity between you was terrifying, it was almost enough to make you pass out.  

“Answer me.” He demanded right in your ear, pushing you to the nearest wall with no effort, still basically pressing himself right against you. It sends shivers down your spine. You let out a small, short scream.  

“I can’t…” You chirped, still trying to contain your anxious laughter. 

“Why are you running away from something that you started? Is this not what you wanted?” Wesker whispered into your ear, questioning you and your motives. One of his hands snaked its way to your left breast and the other rested on your waist. You let out another nervous laugh, trying to think if you could survive what was about to happen to you. You were finished. You were so fucked. You’d be lucky to even think about escaping this building alive. 

‘I don’t regret anything but I didn’t think it would end up like this!’ You panicked in your head, blinking rapidly against the wall. All of a sudden, you were lifted off of your feet and onto Wesker’s shoulder in an instant. It happened so fast that you didn’t know how to react. 

“Wait–wait–wait Wesker, can you please relax!? I’m sure we don’t need to resort to intercourse to–” You were spurting out your proposal to an alternate plan before you felt a sharp sting on your ass cheek. 

“That is the solution. It is the only way I’ll be satisfied, dearheart.” You heard Wesker casually say as he walked the both of you and him back to your lab. It didn’t matter how much you squirmed and struggled in his grasp, he was too strong. His grip on you felt like a chokehold. 

“B-but I’m sure we can figure out a solution to this… can we?” Your voice high-pitched out of nervousness and a tad bit of excitement. You guys finally made it to your room and he automatically placed you in front of him, using his hand to force you down to the middle and your hands to the edge of the bed. You feel a pool in your stomach as you can feel his hard erection grinding against your fabric covering your ass.

“I’m afraid not– having such control over you is more than enough to fulfill my needs.” A quiet groan left his mouth as his left hand held your hip still so that you weren’t trying to run away. Wesker leans down so he is right at your right ear. "Your body is a beautiful playground and I plan to explore every inch of it." And you could’ve sworn that your heart almost left your body. 

“I knew I should’ve gotten Leon to do this instead…” You thought to yourself. 

Or so you thought. 

“What did you just say?” You feel a sharp tug on your hair. 

“What? I didn’t-” You tried to protest but you felt another slap on your ass. He was in your ear again, his cold, minty breath landing on the side of your face. You looked straight ahead as you felt his ice blue eyes directly on you. 

“You just say that the little pathetic rookie over at the police department should’ve been the one helping you instead of me. Do you really think he’s a better man than me?” 

“Doctor, I didn’t say that…” You whined, closing your eyes, wondering how you got to this moment. 

“But you did.”

“I-I didn’t say any of that.” The grinding got worse, the friction of his erection against the fabrics covering your ass did not make it any better, you were making it obvious that you were soaked by letting out a small whine with each dry thrust that Wesker did against you, his low groans were all you heard as you bit your bottom lip.

“Do you really think that rookie can please you like this ? Have you soaking through your panties like this ?” 

“Fuck…” 

You didn’t mind any of this at all, it was just that you wish you had more control over the situation than you had intended, and, there’s no condom in sight, and you weren’t on birth control because you were afraid it would mess up your body. 

And, Wesker isn’t even himself right now, which means nothing is off limits. Nothing. Uh oh. 

He snatched your lab coat off of you, threw it on the ground, then he lifted your dress up, revealing your wet panties. You shivered with excitement, but you tried not to make it obvious. You could hear Wesker let out a deep chuckle from behind you, his hands now steady on your hips right before he slid your wet underwear down your legs and off of you. Now you were really embarrassed, you threw your head down on to the bed, trying to hide the sounds of your whines. You heard him put your underwear into the pocket of his pants. 

“Harvesting I see…” You sighed, feeling yourself getting impatient. 

“Of course, I can smell your sweet nectar all the way from here, my love. I plan to own a collection of your under garments every time I get to fuck you.” Fireflies swarmed around your body, mainly affecting the pit of your stomach and your mind, making you lightheaded. 

Wesker pushes you further towards the middle of the bed, causing you to let out a small yelp, holding onto your hips for good measures, making sure that you don’t try to run away from him, even though you didn’t have the intent of doing so. 

“Fuck… you’re dripping so much, dearheart. You’ve been wanting, needing this, haven’t you?” Your boss purred from behind you, slipping two fingers at your folds, causing you to let out a small moan. 

But were you actually dreaming of this? You always found Wesker to be such a attractive man; it was those captivating, cerulean eyes, his pale, alabaster toned skin that had such toned and attractive muscles that covered it, that perfectly slicked back, golden blond locks that sat on his head, that straight nose of his, and those thin but sinister lips that you knew did damage to any woman he put them on. 

Albert Wesker was a dangerous man, but you still decided to step into that danger. It was funny how ballsy you were, and look where you were: In your lab, on the bed, on your hands and knees in front of your boss, a mess with your core soaked, dripping onto said bed, and his fingers toying with your flower. Did you regret having him do this? You were too horny to answer that. 

Your thoughts were cut off by Albert putting a finger inside of you and placing another one directly on your clit before he started rubbing his fingers against you. It was electrifying to say the least. He was so skilled, he pleased your clit with an effortless try. It made you such a moaning mess with every move he did. What a bastard!

“You’re moaning so loud for me and you haven’t even met my cock yet.” Wesker chuckled, continuing his foul movements with his fingers, moving them back to your folds, rubbing them faster. 

“Nghh– fuck …” You couldn’t even speak properly, you were such a wet, sloppy mess down there. 

“Are you close, doctor?” He laughed lowly, picking up the pace, splashing your juices upon your close arrival. “I would love to make you cum due to your own experiment.” He added, then slowed down. 

“Y-yes—- oh-” As you were about to come, he flipped you over with such pace that the room was spinning, to where he could see your flushed, sweaty face. 

‘He edged me… what a prick.’

“I apologize for cutting you off at the heat of the moment but I’m growing impatient.” He licked your nectar off of his fingers which made you cringe. 

He dipped his head down towards your neck, lifting your dress up even more, and taking it completely off of you. Wesker gave you several, slow, lingering licks, flicking his tongue, suddenly, tugging gently with his teeth, deliberately sending dancing flames around your body. He went down to your breasts, alternating between fast and gentle, slow and hard bites and licks, marking you, leaving signs of ownership on you. 

“Mine…” He groaned before leaving another wet lick on your sensitive buds. All the while, his fingers teased just above your glistening cauldron of heat. Muscles were ripping in your stomach, and your hips arched in desperation. 

“You have to do something…” Your breath came out in a little sob. You were covered in both your sweat and his cold saliva. 

Albert leaned back up, staring down at you with that cold, possessive and hot gaze of his as his fingers undid every button of that black shirt of his, one by one. Revealing his chest. He was a sight to behold, it was too much for you to stomach. His abs were toned, defined, muscular, and perfect . He was an adonis. You were snapped out of your daze of the lovely sight in front of you when you heard the shirt plot to the ground along with the sound of the zipper of his pants going undone, then the sound of his boxers slipping down his legs. 

He leaned back down. He was at the very center of your heat as you laid beneath him, fingernails gripping the sheets, your body arched, your throat bared as you threw your head back and lifted your hips. His wintery gaze met yours, aroused, urgent. 

Oh, and his smile was an absolute sin, he caught your thighs and spread you wider for him. Wesker’s gaze grew hotter, much sinister and all too sexual. Immediately, he bent his head and he drank you. 

As soon as his tongue touched you, you could no longer keep quiet, you moaned louder than toy did before. Your vision was shattering in the moment, you invisible circles coming from the light above. You felt your throat getting sore from how loud you scream. You were lucky that no one else was in the building besides the two of you. 

He lapped you, speared you, licked you so fast that you were seeing stars. Your muscles in your silk canal clenched and pulsed, and his hands held you down with strength you didn’t know was possible. This was all so tortuous, and there was nothing you could do about it but take it all in. You could see his eyes closed as he carefully slid his tongue against your folds, then to your opening, finally, to your clit, grazing it lightly but ever so painfully.It was crazy but unsurprising how skilled he was. But then again there was no way he could be a virgin, just look at him and how he was drinking you like a voracious beast. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He licked your clit again, his voice hoarse, looking up at your dazed, tear-filled eyes as you let out another wanton moan. “Oh, yeah, dearheart, you definitely like that.”

“I’m not certain I can stand this for much longer…” You gasped, digging your fingers further into the mattress, desperately trying to find something to hold on to. “I can’t take it.” 

“Yes you can. You will take whatever I give you. Let me make you scream, dearheart. I will make you so mindless with pleasure you do not know any other name but mine.” His voice was pure seduction, caressing your skin the way his fingers did to your hips, there were little bruises there from how tight he was gripping you. 

His tongue licked your clit rapidly and you could feel your body losing control, malfunction due to how overstimulated you were. Pleasure was bursting through you as you came and he licked it all up and swallowed your come. You buckled hard against his mouth, unable to stop yourself from the mind-numbing pleasure that came upon you.

You couldn’t even catch your breath before he flipped you around, catching your hips and pulling your ass back towards him, one hand on the back of your neck, the other on your back to hold you in place. He placed the tip of his cock at your wet entrance, teasing your desperate body for a needy response.  

‘I can’t wait any longer…’ Your intrusive thoughts took over you as you pushed yourself back quickly, causing his cock to be plunged inside of you, making you let out a scream of shock and pleasure. He was bigger than you thought, he was thick and so hard, like a steel spear pushing through your soft folds. “You’re too big.” You gasped.

“I’ve been waiting for this. I haven’t been able to find peace with myself until I was able to find myself buried inside of you, princess.” 

It was like you were scared because you thought that you couldn’t accommodate his body and his size, not like this, not when he gripped your hips and pulled your ass back toward him and drove into you relentlessly, mercilessly through your tight pussy.

“You’re so tight, my dear.” He groaned, taking in the wet sound of him sliding in and out of you. He held you completely under his control, taking his time to thrust into that hot, silky channel, it was as soft as silk.

“You have to stop…” You let out a high pitched whine, you altered your neck so that you could see his face behind you. He was fast and brutal with his thrusts. It felt amazing but you could sense that your stomach was going to hurt with the pace he was going, even the position itself was overbearing. You placed a hand on his chest, trying to push him back to get him to slow down. As if that was going to do anything. 

“No.” He grabbed your arm and hung onto it as he placed it behind your back, thrusting in and out of you even faster as a way of punishment. “Don’t do that.”  

“I-it’s too much…” You cried, drooling came out of your mouth. Your body was on cloud nine at that point. Wesker sensed that your release was coming, and so was his from how sloppy his thrusts were. 

“That’s it. That’s a good girl. Come for me. Burn for me.” Multiple orgasms were tearing through your body, sweeping through every part of you like a riptide wave, each one was stronger than the last. The sensitiveness ripped through you like nothing through your powerful spasms. 

Wesker’s release was merciless, the flame tearing up his spine and churning in his belly, while your canal squeezed and gripped him, milking out white jets of hot semen from his body.  

In an instant you were out for the count. As soon as he pulled out, your body flopped onto the bed and you were fast asleep. 

Your abdomen was hurting, and it was hurting really bad. It felt as if you had a cramp, but you weren’t on your period. 

It was the rough sex you had yesterday with your boss.

Now, the real question was, did you think that it was worth it? The experiment with the pill and the aftermath, did you really think it was all worth it? 

Well, from the way your throat was hurting after all the screaming and moaning you did from the way Albert Wesker had his way with you, it was most likely obvious the answer was yes.

The real question was how you ended up back home and in your bed; you couldn’t remember anything from last night after you passed out in your lab. You also didn’t feel like going into work today, your body was too sore and you felt too weak to even do simple tasks. This all sucked but, at the same time it didn’t. The testing for your pill went well but you were so sore that you winced at the pain in your stomach and back. 

Things didn’t get better once you heard a knock at your front door. 

“Who's knocking at my door…” You groaned, checking your phone for the time. “It’s literally six in the morning for crying out loud.” You then whined, slowly getting up out of your bed so that you don’t feel too much pain. You were already wearing your comfy pyjamas set so all you did was put on your robe and house slippers. You walked down stairs as quickly as you could and opened the front door. 

It was Wesker. He didn’t have his glasses on, so his baby blue eyes bore right into yours as soon as you opened the door. Instead, he wore a black Thunderbird sweater, black and white heavy fleece sweatpants, and black ugg slippers, which were all from Fear of God’s mainline. This man had an expensive taste in clothing, which was not surprising from the way he dresses at the work. He also had a grocery bag in his hand, it looked quite heavy.

“You…” You sighed, looking at your boss up and down, your mind imaging his body from yesterday night. It was so hard to control your mind in this state when you were yearning for more of him. And then you scoffed when you realised how much money could just be casually sitting in his platinum AMEX card at this moment. This bastard of a man did a number on you and it was all your fault. 

“Well, good morning to you, _/_.” Wesker responds to you bluntly, rolling his eyes at your bad greeting. You step out the way so he can come in and his scent almost devours you; hints of geranium and uplifting lemon take on your senses and you almost lose your balance. The other notes of the fragrance he used must’ve had depths of cinnamon and cardamom. Damn, he smelt divine. You close and lock the front door behind you. Wesker already makes himself as home as he places the bag he had on your coffee table.

“Sir, why are you here so early? It’s six in the morning.” You asked him in a whiny tone. You seriously didn't have the energy for his presence. You then stumbled your way towards the kitchen, to get a glass of water for the both of you.

“I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.” He said simply, getting a small item out of said bag. You stopped right where you were, butterflies swarmed their way into your stomach as you thought about last night.

“Oh…” Your knees felt weak and your head felt light as you remembered the feeling of his callous hands against the soft skin on your back. “I was trying to forget about yesterday.” You sighed, continuing to walk again.

“I don’t think you can, dearheart.” He throws a box at you and you catch it from where you were standing in the kitchen. You looked at it to see it was a Plan-B pill made from your company: Umbrella. You chucked at yourself. How could you forget the Plan-B pill? 

“Ah. Thank you. I don’t want any little Weskers running around me either.” You humoured him, quickly opening up the packaging, taking it out and pouring two cups of water. 

“Insulting my seed?” Wesker questioned you, raising an eyebrow at your statement. You couldn’t tell if he was seriously offended or if he was just playing around. The rational side of you was hoping if he was just joking while the other was hoping that he was offended. You didn’t know why, though . 

“Just being honest, doctor.”  You swallowed the pill then drank your glass of water before taking the other glass and placing it in front of your boss, sitting next to him. After you sat down, there was an uncomfortable, awkward moment of silence between the two of you; you just sat there with your lips pursed, your eyes constantly looking at Albert then away, twiddling your thumbs, and just wondering when he was going to say something, while he just sat there looking down to the carpet below you two, blinking every now and then. 

“I was out of character-”

“You didn’t have to help me-”

You guys both said your statements in unison, then it was silent once again. Now, that was even more awkward. 

“But, just out of curiosity…” You were the one to start the conversation, again. Your next question was going to make you cringe but you just had to ask, “Were you in control or… that was just the pill controlling you?” At your question, Wesker gave you a stern look, it seemed as if he was genuinely trying to find the answer to your inquiry.  

“I was in control. I had my conscience, but I grew impatient.” He spoke, looking down again, calmly. He showed no signs of regret or embarrassment, just a little conflicted. It was all over his face; he was at cross swords with his actions, but, from what you were seeing and experiencing, he enjoyed himself. He had fun watching you squirm under his touch, being so submissive you couldn't even resist, and screaming due him fucking you mercilessly.

“Hmm… Interesting.” You mumbled under your breath, sceptical at his reasoning. 

“You seem unwell.” Was he mocking you? 

“Well, yeah. Thanks to you and your impatience, my stomach hurts.” You let out another scoff, huffing a short sigh. 

“My apologies, dear.” At the nickname, you turned your head towards him, giving him a side eye. Even after yesterday, the pet names still didn't fit right with you. You knew why: it was because you couldn't tell if he was being serious, or if it was just the effect of the pill controlling his words. He did say that he was in control and that it basically made him uncontrollably horny, it's just that you didn't believe him, or you didn't know what to believe. 

“What’s up with the pet names?” You asked with an annoyed tone, not knowing if the side effects were still messing with him.

“The pet names don’t cause your heart to flutter?” Albert's eyes squinted at you, a mischievous glint pouring into them. In return, you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. There was just no way this man genuinely had feelings for you.

“Did you expect me to have feelings for you or something? That's not how love works, Albert .” You retorted, keeping the same expression on your face. 

“It's quite common that women do try and make advances on me. I would've thought you had interest in me by the way you love to pester me around the laboratory.” You practically rolled your eyes into the back of your head. Jeez Louise, just how much ego could a man have? Then again, he wasn’t wrong; you saw how your female peers would always talk about Wesker and how hot he was, how intelligent he was, how cunning he was, and how they would let him ruin their life. Although you agreed to your peers’ statement, you weren’t going to boost his ego even further just because you had a crush on him. It was probably working too judging by the way he was trying to get you to falter so hard. 

“I don't know how you expect me to have any interest in you when you treat me like shit.” You spoke out bluntly, with the fake taste of annoyance in your mouth. “Are you still experiencing any side effects?” You then asked, trying to see what was in the grocery bag from your position on the sofa.

“Well, after I poured my seed into you, I wasn't hormonal anymore.” He told you as if he didn’t just say the most explicit statement to you. You physically cringed, looking away from him and staring into the abyss. ‘I can’t believe I let Wesker out of all the people cum inside of me… Even this whole conversation we were having is beyond my comprehension… And why is he acting like he likes me? This man treats me like absolute crap! anytime I'm on the clock!’ 

Well, at least you got some data out of the experiment that would be helpful for you when it came to revisions of the pill and its prototype regarding the ingredients and substances you used. What you got so far was that it wears off after a man reaches his orgasm, and that it causes extreme drowsiness when first taken, then the man is off the shits. Interesting.  

“Did you have any other side effects?” You spoke again, still not looking at him. Meanwhile, you felt him staring at you once again, it sent shivers down your spine due to the intensity of it. The stare he gave you wasn’t exactly a rude or strange one, but it was one of curiosity; the way his winter-blue eyes squinted with his blond eyebrows furred gave it away. 

“No.” And, that there were no lingering side effects once the pill stops working completely. 

“That information will be helpful once I fill out my lab report.” You squint your eyebrows, confused on why he was staring at you. “Yo, why are you staring at me so hard?” You moved away from him on the sofa.

“You want to know what I’ve just realised?” He leaned in closer, causing you to lean back again. The proximity between you two right now was wicked.

“And what would that be?”

“That I never kissed you before.”

“Please don’t think about that right now. My teeth aren’t even brushed.”

He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “I don’t care about that.” Before you could protest further, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a gentle yet electrifying kiss.

Your heart raced, a mix of shock and desire flooding your senses. You knew you should push him away, remind him of the professional boundaries, but the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his kiss made it impossible to resist.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze searched yours, as if seeking an answer to an unspoken question. You were breathless, your mind a whirlwind of emotions.

“This changes everything,” you whispered, not trusting your voice to say more.

“It doesn’t have to,” he replied softly. “Unless you want it to.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, the same vulnerability you felt. Maybe, just maybe, this was the moment to let your guard down. “Maybe it should,” you said, surprising yourself with the admission.

He smiled, a slow, genuine smile that made your heart flutter. “Then let’s see where this goes.”

And in that moment, you knew there was no turning back.

[mae-falling-in-may]

My Little Flower | The Darkling x Fem!Reader

I wrote this just after finishing the season 2 of Shadow And Bone, it broke me so like it's a bit of a comfort fic I guess ? Just the way Aleksander was possessive of Alina made me feel things and I'm sorry about this... just a few heads up, I'm no Alina hater (I love her) I just needed to add a bit of tension in this, and also this is the first time I fully write smut AND that I post it on the internet. I'm very self conscious about smut because huh, I'm not the best writer in the world and english is not my first language. I still do hope you'll like it, I had fun writing it !!

Pairing : The Darkling x Fem!Reader

Warnings : very light spoilers, SMUT, jealous reader, kinda possessive!dark!aleksander ? established relationship, claiming, oral sex (f receiving) unprotected sex (protect urselves pls), p in v sex, dom/sub dynamics, creampie, 18+ only MINORS DNI!!!

Summary : Aleksander comes back from the dead, you feel your heart drop when you see him, darker than ever, the scars on his face making you feel weak. He's determined to get the sun summoner, and you're scared that he's drifting from you, but he will show you who you belong to.

Words : 3k

He came back. The one who held you with just one finger, the one who could get you on your knees just with one word. General Kirigan, your General. Hearing what happened in the Fold with the sun summoner and him, broke you. Hell, you didn't know if what happened between you two meant something to him, but you would do anything to make him feel at least something.

My little flower he called you, away from all curious glances. That was the nickname he gave to you, and you held it. You answered it, maybe he called you to have you by his side forever, only for his plans, maybe it was just all an act, but heck, you fell deeply. You fell so deep that nothing would ever make you betray him. You wanted to be with him until you'll be killed in the field, or even just died at his own hands. Whether it was love or a crazy obsession, seeing him alive made your heart much lighter than it was before. You clenched your fists, dangerously planting your nails in your own flesh to keep you from running to him.

His silhouette, his voice, his dark gaze, and his newfound scars, everything about him made your breath hitch. All you could think of right now while he was walking towards other grishas and you, were absolutely disgusting thoughts about how you would go under him to help him relieve himself. You unconsciously held your breath while he was walking towards you. He approached dangerously, all of your body was calling you to be at his service. You gasped for air when he spoke to you.

"My little flower." He whispered, really close to your face so no one could hear him talk. "I'm glad that my most precious Grisha is here." 

You didn't manage to form a proper sentence, you were just stuttering words, and Aleksander saw how you were so emotional. You could only whisper the words: "You're alive.", before bursting into tears. He gently took you into his arms and shushed you.

"It's okay, little flower. I am back, and I'll need you more than anything for what we'll accomplish. Come and join me after dinner please ?" You could only nod while letting your tears drop freely.

~

"I need the Little Saint, you need to locate her, quickly, I want every information you have on her or anyone who's with her, you hear me ?" The tension in the room was heavy, all you could do with your fellow Grishas was to answer "Yes, General." You all waited for him to dismiss every one of you, and with a flick of his hands, he did. They left the room, as you stayed and waited for anything that he could ask you to do. Anything. You heard him shift into his armchair, and when you let yourself stare at him, your mind raced.

She was the one that caused all of this, seeing your General in this state made your heart clench. If only she listened to him, or you had been her, your General wouldn't be suffering like that. A deep cough startled you and your gaze got on Aleksander again, he was sick. You rushed towards him, obviously worried. You kneeled before him, putting a hand on his back and the other one on his knee.

"My General, are you unwell? What happened there ?" The shakiness of your voice betrayed you. 

"Flower." He whispered. "I… It's my new power. The nichevo'ya, they're shadow creatures. They defend me when I'm in danger." He locked his eyes into yours, dark and full of fatigue. You felt him drifting off from you. An explosive wave of emotions passed through you when he looked at you. Was it worry? Hatred for the Sun Summoner? Jealousy? Or just everything that you felt for the General was crashing down deep into your being. You gulped, your mind going from one worry to another, then you asked him quietly.

"Is there anything I can do, my General ?" He lowered his head and waited a bit before answering. "I fear that I do not have a solution for my state right now, flower. I just need… The Sun Summoner, Alina…" He stopped himself, what for? You didn't know, but everything collapsed around you. He didn't need you, the nickname he gave you meant nothing. All you could do was make him feel a bit better about this. You'll bring him back Alina, you swore on your life that you'll do anything for him right? Then you'll do it, even though it will hurt more than you admitted. 

You stood up, he looked at you, confusion and worry in his eyes. You tried to compose yourself and explained.

"I swore on my life that I'll do anything for you, General, if you want the Sun Summoner, I'll bring her back to you, even if I have to die trying to." You waited for an answer, an approval, anything, he stayed silent. You finally turned to leave the room, the sound of your steps resonating on the walls. You didn't want to leave, you wanted to stay, but hell seeing him like that hurt. You were about to open the door and leave when he stopped you with his voice.

"Flower. Please." You heard him stand up, and slow steps coming towards you. "You're the only one that can help me right now. Are you rejecting me? Your General ?" You felt tears building up again, you didn't know how you could tell him how you feel, having him obsessing over his Little Saint was so painful. But did you really have your right to speak up about it? You were just a Grisha, like any other Grisha here, you weren't her, yet you wanted to be her. You faced him back, letting your tears drop freely over your cheeks.

"How could I reject you when I'm not even yours, General? I know you need her, and I know I'll never be her, I've accepted it. Let me accomplish this for you, my General." You sounded hurt, exhausted, and deeply in love. He was dangerously approaching you by now, and for the first time in months, or hell maybe even years, he spoke your name. Not calling you Flower, like he loved to, just your name. He whispered it, and it felt so good on his lips. He cupped your face with his hand softly making you look at him, he seemed hurt.

"You don't understand. Yes, she is the Sun Summoner, and yes, I need her for every reason I already told you. But, what she is not, and will never be, is my precious little Flower. And you know who this is right? You, you belong to me, and I belong to you. I'll never deny that I wished you were the Sun Summoner, so we could accomplish everything together." Even with this, you couldn't believe him, your mind repeated to you that you meant nothing to him and that you weren't her. Even with his hand on your cheek, you couldn't let yourself breathe for him.

"Please, General, don't make me hope for something that I'm unworthy of." Something seemed to snap inside him when he heard the word "unworthy". He abruptly put his arm around your waist and pushed your body towards him with his hand on your back. The hurt gaze he wore before turned into something different, into something frightening.

"Do not use this word to qualify yourself, my flower. You are way more than that. You're my most precious Grisha, my most precious ally, and my dear, dear, friend." His words were spilled like tasty poison, so dangerous but yet, so good. You couldn't help but whimper under his touch. You knew how Aleksander could be possessive, but you simply refused to let yourself believe you were in his catalog. 

Hearing you whimper satisfied him, he let a small smile creep on his face, and he slowly buried his face into your neck. "If you don't believe my words maybe I'll need to show you who you belong to, flower." He kissed your neck, making a path towards your jaw, then your lips. He made sure to dry your tears before kissing you, you sighed into him, your arms making their way to his shoulders. You felt helpless whenever he touched you like this, thinking of nothing more but to please him right now, in this room.

He broke the kiss that left you both breathless, he took a moment to look at you, your eyes, your face, lips, jaw, and neck, and he felt you burning for him. He loves the hold that he had on you. "To bed, without your clothes, please." Even if he would love ripping out your kefta from your body, to expose all of yourself to him, he couldn't, he already had to deal with the million layers of his outfit. So he just followed you to the bed, while you were removing your boots, then your kefta, and then everything that went under it. He was getting rid of his clothing too, but getting distracted by how beautiful you looked for him, his hands stopped doing what he originally wanted to do, and your voice interrupted the silence.

"Do you need help, General ?" You were almost fully naked in front of him, a wave of arousal went through his body, making wearing pants uncomfortable. He nodded at you first, then when you were getting rid of his first few layers of clothes he spoke again.

"Please flower, tonight, only call me by my name. Can you do that ?" You eagerly nodded while you were getting rid of his final upper layer, revealing his scarred torso to you. You let your fingers trail on some of them, wanting to kiss every bit of scars he had on his body. He smiled, loving your admiration and worship, he missed it. He took your wrists in his hand and smiled down at you. 

"I know how much you love to worship me, flower, but not yet, you'll do it when I pump my cock deep inside of you. Right now I want to have you at my mercy and show you who this beautiful body belongs to. You hear me ?" You nodded, unable to form more than one word because of his power over you.

"Words, flower." He removed the last bit of clothes that kept you from being naked, exposing you to him. You stuttered "Yes, I understand Aleksander.", that seemed to please him a lot. He pushed you onto the bed, making his way on top of you. He still had his pants on, enjoying the friction of the fabric when his cock was getting bigger with arousal.

"This time it will be me who worships you. I'm going to taste you and make you scream." You whimpered, while he was kissing your neck, making his way painfully slowly toward your breasts. He kissed them softly before trailing down to your stomach, then your hips. He guided you to open your legs for him and found his hands gripping the back of your thighs. He kissed the inside of your thigh before finally making his way to your perfect already wet cunt. You were this wet since the intense kiss you shared earlier, and the more you felt his touch, the more you would be needy for him. 

He first lapped your pussy, to take a taste out of it, then completely buried his face into it. You weren't ready, it's been so long since you felt any kind of pleasure down there, you gasped and moaned, already on the verge of screaming. And he was just getting started? You knew you were about to break under him. The obscene noises of him tasting all of you made your head spin. He was eating you out like he wouldn't be able to do it after. The tip of his nose was making friction with your clit, and his tongue inside of you. He groaned under you, you were delicious, and he would not get over how delicious you tasted. 

Your moans and the noises he made by tasting you filled the entire room. He was almost tongue-fucking you as you felt your release build-up. You struggled to align proper sentences, just letting out the same words, "Saints, please, Aleksander". He loved how his name sounded on your lips when you were about to come for him, but he would be sure to make you scream it. 

"I'm going to make you cum for me, flower. I want you to scream my name when you do. I don't care if anyone hears, they'll just know who you belong to. You're mine, flower."

He then sucked on your clit and took two fingers to pump them inside of you. You screamed at the newfound sensation of his fingers, and your back arched while you were begging for a release. You were so desperate for him and it made his cock ache under the layer of his pants. He wanted to stop right here and bury himself inside of you just to feel you come around him. He sucked your clit even harder and teased your folds with his fingers. His other hand squeezed your thigh as he felt you crumble under his touch. He knew you were close, you were already losing your mind, and the moans you let out were incoherent at this point. 

“I know you’re close, flower, cum for me.” You screamed his name while hanging onto the bed sheets. The heat of your orgasm flew all over your body, your back arched and your legs were trembling. The delicious feeling of your release was overwhelming, you soaked Aleksander’s face. He pulled out his fingers slowly and kissed one last time your clit, then your cunt. He straightened up so you could see his face better, his hair was a mess and he was panting. He crushed his lips onto yours hungrily, making you taste the mix of your juices and his spit. You moaned against him, your hands finding their way to his groin. You stroked the length of his cock through the fabric. You wished he was fully naked right now, so you could feel him completely. He hummed into your lips and helped you get rid of his pants.

He broke the kiss to fully remove his clothes, which was a relief to both of you. He felt uncomfortable with the hard-on he had since he had first kissed you. And you, you wanted to please him, to have the taste of his cock on your tongue, to suck him so good so he could not think about anything else but you. But you knew it wasn't part of the plan today. You saw his cock already so hard and ready to be buried inside you. You bit your lip at the thought of it, you haven't had anyone since he left for the Fold with Alina, and god you missed him.

He went back once he was fully naked to kiss the corner of your lips. "I know what's on your mind, flower. You missed me, haven't you ?" He continued to kiss your cheek, your jaw, and your neck while placing himself between your legs. You felt him lightly stroke the tip of his cock on the opening of your pussy which made you moan. "Oh, Saints, yes I've missed you Aleksander." You felt him smile on your neck while caressing your body until his hands found your hips. He faced you once again and looked at you fondly with his dark eyes. 

He licked his lips, seeing you desperate for him, he knew you were about to beg for him to fuck you. He didn't even wait for you to say a word that he pumped into you. The feeling and the heat of his cock were oddly overwhelming, and you felt you could cum right here. "I'm gonna fuck you so good, my flower." You couldn't help but moan a please, to indicate that you needed him to move. He smiled and started to thrust into you painfully slowly. 

The rhythm he gave was making you feel every inch of his heat inside of you, you were almost trembling. But you wanted more, you begged once again and put your arms around his shoulders. "Please, Aleksander, I need more." Hearing his name falling through your lips while you were begging felt so good. He let out a curse and started to move into you harder and faster. Both of you loved being in each other's arms so you were on the verge of losing your minds.

The room was filled with your moans, the sound of both your skin slapping on each other, Aleksander's light panting while he was thrusting into you, and the obscene wet sounds of his cock going in and out of your soaked cunt. You wanted this moment to last forever, to have Aleksander all for yourself. The sound he made while fucking you was pushing you closer and closer to your release, and he felt it too. "Flower come on my cock with me please ?" You could only nod, overwhelmed by these sensations.

"I want to fill you up, love, can I ?" It was the first time he called you that, you couldn't even process the name you just wanted the both of you to cum. You almost screamed "Yes, please Aleksander.", you were so loud for him, so good to him, you'd never let him go. 

The wave of your orgasm reached you when his thrusts became erratic. Your cunt clenched around him as he finally got the release you seek. You felt his hot seed splashing into you, while he reached to kiss you again while filling you completely. You moaned against his mouth, enjoying everything he gave you. 

"You're mine, my little flower, mine only."

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Excessive teasing, edging, like all damn day, orgasm denial, sweet sex/love making (It's a cute chap)

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished on Ao3 but I'm going to slowly get it all up here! (Gojo's POV in itallics)

Chapter 10 - Masterlist

Chapter 11

With the morning sun streaming through the window, the reality of your sleep confession was hitting you like a damn tidal wave. There was no turning back now, your stupid sleep talk habit had just admitted it all for you. Instead of answering, you cover your face in your hands, sighing, but he leans across the table, pushing them down and looking at you.

A smirk formed as he studied your embarrassed face, that somewhat shy demeanor gone as he read you like a book. “You said it several l times, never leave me, love you, comfy Satoru .”

“I hate you!” You scowled, and then he was laughing, grinning wide like the Mad Hatter.

“You certainly don’t hate me in your sleep.”

“I’m awake now.” You cross your arms, huffing.

“You are. So, is it true? You love me?”

“Ugh!”

He was between your thighs, then, out of nowhere as if he’d just appeared, hands warm on your bare thighs, looking at you while on his knees. “I asked you a question, brat.”

“I’m not answering.”

“Scared? Aww, that’s cute.” He was caressing your face, blue eyes dancing with mischief. 

“Yes… I am… scared.” You manage to choke out, wishing the floor would swallow you whole. He'd chuckled, his eyes sparkling with an almost predatory amusement.

“Interesting.” He slid his fingers down your thighs, making you tremble. “I've never had someone profess their love to me in their sleep before. Makes you wonder what other secrets you keep while you're unconscious. It’s a fantasy of me and Suguru, isn’t it?”

You smacked at him, at his wink, his taunt. “You’re so annoying! You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”

“Never. Just admit it.”

“You’re…. I…”

“Words.” He kisses up your thigh, spreading them wide, flicking his tongue on the soft skin of your inner thigh and making you moan. “Use your words.”

“No words for you. Just… mmm keep doing that.” You raise your hips up, sighing in pleasure, as his deft fingers yanked your shorts to the side, revealing how eager and wet you always were for this asshole.

Sweet asshole.

Fuck he was actually caring and sweet?

“Mnh. Satoru, please.” You beg, as his kisses tease you, just near your aching pussy lips but never actually on them, a whole torture, making you grab at his silky hair, entwining your fingers in a grip. He stayed still, those eyes seductive as fuck as he watched you from down there.

“No. Don’t think I will.” He grinned, putting your shorts back and patting your legs, coming to stand and bending down over you.

“Ugh. I said please.” You pout, batting your eyelashes at him, but to no avail, he was too far gone now.

“I’ll not be doing anything till you say it.”

“You won’t touch me till I say I love you?!” You demand incredulously. He kisses the side of your neck, then bites the shit out of you, hard, his sharp teeth tearing at your skin as his being tore at your senses.

“I won’t let you cum, sweetheart. I need you to be honest.” He pulled back fully, the cool air under the vent making your bitten neck sting, making you wetter.

“Satoru…”

“Oh you’ll do it. You’ll fucking beg for me.” He popped a kiss on your head and caressed your hair.

“Why?”

“Because I want to hear you say it. Awake.”

You sigh, leaning your head back. “You’re annoying.”

“You’re stubborn.”

You huff, standing, and catching his arm before he turns away. Emotion hits your throat. There was a flicker of something else in his eyes, a hint of something deeper, despite the teasing. The air was filled with both of your unspoken desires, the tension building until it was almost unbearable in just that moment you two stood in the kitchen, watching each other.

You place your hands on his hard chest, aching for him in every way, why were you so afraid? “I am scared.” You whisper.

“Be brave, little brat.” He murmurs, and it’s quiet in your little kitchen, aside from your tremulous breathing and pounding heart.

“I don’t wanna lose this.” You feel tears in your eyes, and he smiles, a little wistful at you, taking in the features of your face.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You take a breath for courage. “Fine… Satoru, I-” Your phone started blaring, as did his, your alarms simultaneously blare. You both turn them off, and then you’re back in his arms, opening your mouth…

The phone rings.

“Fuck.” Satoru grumbles, running a hand through his hair and snatching the call up. “This better be good. Oh, yeah mom, what? I’m busy. I know.”

Your eyes widen, heart going triple time, as if it would fall out of your chest, as Gojo glares down at you.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Oh. Well… shit…” His brows furrow a bit, and you’re aching to know what the fuck was being said.

“What is it?” You mouth, then he snorts at whatever his mom says, before eyeing you up and down.

“Oh, I know her size all right. Gotta be suited for how big her tits are.”

“Gojo!” You gasp, smacking at him, and he’s laughing like a psycho.

“Just your tits are big, not the rest of you. Well… you have a nice ass too. God, women… so sensitive. Yeah, yeah, take her side, why don’t you? FIne.” He smirks as you’re bright red with anger, like to just smother him. “Mom wants to buy you a dress for tomorrow. She also wants to say hi to you.”

“Oh!” You are red for a different reason now, sputtering as your lips move but no sound comes out.

“She kinda looks like a fish right now.” You smack his arm. “A cute fish!”

“Shut it.” You hold out your hand, and he laughs, handing you it. “Mrs. Gojo, I’m so sorry your son is…”

“Oh, I know he is, trust me.” Came the warm but elegant voice on the line. “I have been wanting to meet you before tomorrow’s ceremony. I am going to be in town in a few hours. Satoru has been going on and on about you.”

You smile, and Gojo glares, making you feel like having some payback. “Oh, has he been? Well, I would love to meet you.”

“Perfect. We’ll meet at four, get you out of work a little early, and then we will grab a bite to eat and get you an outfit.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Nonsense. You may be the only respectable girl my son has dated. I need to see this for myself.”

You giggle at that, and Gojo is fuming. “I appreciate it, we will see you then! Did you want to say bye to him?”

“Sure sure. Bye for now.”

“Bye! Here.” You hand Gojo the phone, and his smirk is gone, replaced by one of irritation and an eye roll.

“Uh huh. Yeah. Knew you all would get along, such bitchy- you will not whip me, I’m twenty eight! You can try. Fine, fine. Love you too.”

He hung up the phone and you burst out into laughter, holding your tummy, he is scowling, and snatches you up, spinning you and bending you over the table with a quickness that left you dizzy. Your laughs die off, but they’re still there, in little breathy pants that you cannot stop from happening.

“I’ll teach you a lesson, brat.” He smacked you on your bare ass hard, making you laugh harder for some unknown reason. “Something funny?”

“Yes! You! Ah, ouch!” He smacked you again, and then something else took hold, as he grabbed your ass hard, making your pussy ache once more.

“You’re a little bitch. You know that?”

You peek back at him, your ass in the air, face pink, eyes glittering, and just smirk at him, driving his fucking crazy. “Am I?”

Smack.

Rub.

“Mnh.” You’re gripping the table, legs trembling, as he dominates you, now sliding a finger against your slick cunt, moaning softly as he elicits a cry from you.

“You like this, don’t you? You’re such a slut for me.” He slides one of his long fingers in your pussy, making you cry out, and his other hand is yanking you by your messy hair and bringing you up, so that your back was arched, stretched, tears pricking your eyes from pain. “You want it?”

“Yes, yes, please.” You reach behind you, trying to feel for his cock, but he stops you. “Please, Satoru.”

“Please, what?”

“Fuck me. Here. Now.” You’re grinding your ass against his hard cock, and his fingers reach around to tease your clit. Pleasure was pulsing through you. “Please. I want you… so much.”

“Ah ah, nope.” He lets go of you, gently so you don’t fall, but smirks, sucking on his fingers that had just touched you, making the throbbing of your cunt around nothing a million times worse.

“I said please though.” He grins, darkly, that madness in his eyes you see when he pushes cum back in you, only rare glimpses, scary but hot as fuck.

“I said, only after you admit it.”

“I… okay then… I-”

Your phone rings.

“Fuck!”

Gojo throws his head back in laughter, and then you are sighing, as you both realize no one has won this battle, but it is going to continue.

“You’re gonna be at work all aching and wet.” He taunts with a whisper, and you tremble at his words.

“Fuck off.”

“I like you when you’re asleep more. Maybe I will become a Somnophiliac. Wouldn’t have to deal with that mouth running.”

You sigh then, pulling him to you, kissing him with everything you have, your entire body shaking. He exhales, falling into it for a moment before you pull away. “We will talk about this later. Yeah?”

He kisses you now, intense, hands on either side of your face. “Oh I’m absolutely not letting this go. But yeah, later. Come on.”

***

“Well, if it isn’t the famous assistant! And new girlfriend.” Gojo’s mom greeted you warmly as she met you two in the steak house later that day, giving Gojo a hug then coming to you and holding your hands, smiling. Her green eyes sparkled, and she was as pretty as a supermodel, you muse, elegant and tall and so pretty.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Gojo!” You lean in and peck a kiss on her cheek, and she laughs, throaty and full hearted, voice and demeanor warm.

“Please, call me Masako.” She kissed your cheek too, then you all sat down, next to Gojo and now across from his mother. “Satoru has been telling me about you for years now, honestly…”

Gojo scoffed, a playful blush creeping up his cheeks. “Have not, aside from saying how annoying you are.” He peered at you, and you scowled at him. His mom laughs once more. Despite his feigned annoyance, his gaze lingered on you, a silent reassurance that he was proud to have you by his side.

“Sure sure, Satoru. She is certainly as lovely as you described.”

“Ugh!” He slumped in his chair like an angry child, and you relished in the pink on his cheeks now so apparent.

“You’re cute when you blush.” You say with a wink, he flips you off, picking up a menu and pretending to ignore you. “You’re lovely as well! I see where Gojo gets these good genetics.”

“Ah, his father was a handsome shithead too.” She dismisses with a wave, and you realize you do not know much about Gojo’s life growing up, as close as you two were. You both still had a lot of learning to do. You wanted to know everything about him, what made him tick, things that you hoped he would feel okay telling you in time.

“I’m prettier than he was.” Gojo mumbles. You put a hand on his, and his clutched yours, you didn't ask but silently let him know you're here with him, as he was with you.

“Prettier than me?” Masako asks.

“Well, no.”

“Aww that’s cute!” Gojo pinches you hard on the leg, and you struggle to hold in the ‘ouch’ as to not make a further spectacle in the restaurant.

“He has his moments.” Masako mused, picking up the menu as well, her silky silver hair glistening. “Thank you both for seeing me, I really wanted to catch up a bit and see if we can keep Satoru’s head on straight.”

“What, think imma fuck it up?”

“I’m worried, yes. You tend to self sabotage. I am glad she’s here to help you though. Thus, she will need to look perfect.”

“I do agree on that. We need some fire outfits. Want me to order for you, baby?” Gojo asks, as you peer at the menu, hand on your thigh. You nod, shyly, the pet name in public, with his mom, feeling so good you couldn’t describe.

Soon the waiter is coming and you all eat and talk, enjoying each other.

***

After lunch, you venture into a high-end boutique, and Masako, with an eye for fashion that rivaled Gojo's own, helped you pick out various gowns to try on, and soon you had a whole handful of dresses, glittering, sequined, gorgeous. It was a little overwhelming.

“Go on, go on, we’re waiting.” Masako said, and then she sat next to Gojo, who was sipping proffered champagne that they were offering, sitting on a plush velvet settee. The place was fancier than you could even fathom. Just one dress was worth more than your savings.

“Need help changing?” Gojo asked with a wink, and you shake your head quickly, ignoring his laugh as you turn, smirking when you hear his mother thwack him good, you really liked her.

You close the curtain and take out the first dress, a bright yellow peplum dress, that you thought looked quite pretty but not on your skin tone. You struggle to zip it up and peer at it in the mirror, spinning this way and that, before walking out to the two. Satoru looked up and laughed.

“You look like a fucking highlighter!” His mom shoved him, and you broke into laughter, shaking your head.

“Satoru!”

“It’s okay, I kind of do.” You giggle, turning a bit. “Can you unzip it? I’ll try another one.” Gojo comes to you, one hand on your upper back while the other eases the zipper down, just the little contact making you crave more, body being denied earlier.

“A pretty highlighter.” He whispers, then walks back, leaving you amused as you go to try on the next. This one was a shimmering emerald green, slinky and clinging to your body, shimmering every which way.

You step out once more, and this time Gojo’s eyes raked you in up and down with pleasure, smirking as he noticed your blush. His mother makes a pleased sound, sipping the champagne with a smile as well, standing and walking to you, circling you while tapping on her chin.

“Green is stunning on you. Ooh, I like this one. What do you think, Satoru? Don’t say a highlighter again.”

Gojo snorts at that, leaning back and crossing his legs casually, assessing you in a way that makes your nerves go crazy. “A mermaid this time.”

“Mermaid is good, yeah?” You ask, and he grins like some demon.

“It’s good.”

“Try on the rest first then we’ll decide!” His mom shoos you back in, and you try on three more dresses, each getting compliments and critiques from Masako, and joking comments from Gojo.

Your heart flutters with each of his compliments, even the sarcastic tone he said them in. You get this odd yearning to tell him how much you loved him, to confess the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface, ones your unconscious self had no issue saying. Yet, the words remained trapped in your throat for now. But you knew you would have to tell him soon.

The last dress flowed effortlessly around you, a shimmering azure that could never match Gojo’s eyes, but it sure was close. It was a beautiful silk and felt so good on your skin. You finish zipping this one up on the side, peering at your reflection, and you realize how beautiful you look with the blue making your skin glow, your eyes brighter, hugging your curves.

You nervously walked out, and Gojo stared at you, lips parted, a flicker of something in his gaze that you couldn't quite decipher. His teasing smirk was gone, replaced by one that reminded you of that night in the limo on your birthday, that look of shock.

“You look…” He began, his voice husky as he walked to you. His mom was talking to one of the workers, so for a moment, it was the two of you. His hand took one of yours and he spun you, assessing the low dip of the dress in the back, then back around. You felt like a Princess.

“I look…” He cleared his throat, as if realizing he hadn’t finished his sentence, then he bent low, brushing your hair back off your shoulders, sighing softly. As he looked to you, the rest of the world faded away. The man that just called you a fucking highlighter, and earlier a fish, had you melting with just a touch.

Fuck you adored him.

“You look beautiful." The way he said it, the way his gaze lingered, sent a shiver down your spine, the emotion behind it had you aching. You wanted to reach for him, to pull him close and whisper those three words, heavy in your heart.

“Thank you, Satoru.” You murmur, shyly looking down, but he tilts your chin up, and you stare into those eyes, eyes that clearly adored you as well.

Emotion catches in your throat.

“Well look at you!” His mother interrupts the crazy reverie in your mind, walking towards you all, you expected Gojo to let go but he stays there, just staring. His mom puts a hand on his shoulder. “She’s a vision, isn’t she?”

“She sure is.” Gojo’s voice is a little hoarse even, as he kisses your forehead, and it feels more intimate than anything, before he eases back.

Gojo and his mother smile as they study you. “That’s the dress, it’s perfection! Did you want me to get the green dress for another event?”

“Oh no, please, it’s already too much.” You nervously entwine your hands together.

“I’ll buy her the green one.” Gojo says, and you smile, thinking of how much you adore this man, fucking Gojo, as he grabs the dress, handing it to his mom along with his card. He then grabbed the tag off the dress you wore. “Here mom, go ahead and pay, I’ll help her out of this.”

“Got it. I’ll go settle up and wait for you two out front.” His mom said, and then Gojo was helping you into the room, and stood behind you, unzipping the zipper gently, carefully, until it fell off of you.

You hold on to the dress around your breasts, smiling at his reflection at first, but it was hungry, wild, eyes dilated so much it was pure blue. You feel yourself tremble at the gaze. “Thank you, Satoru.”

He took you into his arms then, and it was like a dam had broken, you two were devouring each other, you tilting back to face him, and he was kissing you, like something you’d never felt. The passion and the way your tongues entwined was so heady it felt as if you were floating, falling deeper and deeper, his hands taking in every inch of your body.

“Mnh, Satoru… what are you-” He cuts you off then, a hand to your mouth, and he has his hand between your thighs, up under the long dress that barely clung to you, sliding a finger inside you, making you scream silently against his palm as the sensation hits. He finds your g spot with ridiculous ease, massaging it, for he knew your body so well, every inch of it already.

He knew you.

Satoru studies your eyes as he gives you pleasure, and you’re both quiet, you clinging to the shoulders of his suit as he crooks his finger up, making you see stars in the little dressing room. He has you so close against him as his second finger stretches you, your wetness making the lewdest little noise for just your own ears. His bright eyes held something intense in them as he brought you higher.

“Fucking beautiful.” He was whispering, and you tried to remove his hand, to say it, you needed to, but he pressed harder, thumb finding your clit, and your breathing went erratic, entire body tight, ready to fucking explode. You yank his hand down, and kiss him then, leg up around his hips.

“Mmn. Satoru…” You whisper, but shuts you up with his kisses, then pulls his hand away just before you’re ready. He grins, and realizing what he was doing, you scowl, shoving at him.

“Not till you say you love me. Won’t even get to cum, poor little thing. So close too.” He purred the words, then slid your dress off your trembling body.

“If you had let me speak, I was going to… but no, you gotta be all angsty and dom and shit. Ugh!” You shove at him, getting dressed quickly, and he sighs, pulling you against him for a moment.

“Were you really?” The vulnerability ate at you. You nod.

“You’re such a dick.” You mumble, body aching, throbbing for release, having been teased all fucking day. “I fucking hurt.”

“Aww, poor baby.” He bit the words out, and then you push past him out of the dressing room, struggling to breathe. He laughs at that, snatching your hand up and walking out with you, grinning like he’d won.

“Bet your little cunt is just throbbing.” You look up at him wide eyed.

“You’re a whole monster.”

“Sure am.” Soon you all are saying bye to his mother, planning for tomorrow. You refuse to go to his place, and then you all are just arguing in the car as Kiyotaka is made to drive back and forth.

“My place.”

“Mine.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because my fucking pussy hurts enough.” You say it through gritted teeth, and he’s relishing in it, every atom in this tall fucking man happy that you hurt, that he had caused this state.

“You did it to yourself.” He says with a casual shrug. You groan, leaning back in the seat, covering your face.

“Yeah, I know.”

It’s silent, you hear Kiyotaka’s blinker click as the car gently rolls you both, to what destination, none of you knew.

“Just come stay with me. I won’t torture your pussy anymore.” Gojo promises, making you sigh, looking up at him.

“You’re enjoying this. Sadistic ass.”

“Maybe a bit.” He leans over you, brushing your hair back. “Please stay the night though?”

You brush his hair back, nodding. “Can’t turn down your stupid puppy dog eyes, can I?”

“Never.” He orders Kiyotaka, who at this point you felt bad for, then he was on top of you once more, kissing down your neck. “Mom loved you.”

You smile at that, tilting your head so he could get better access, his lips pecking their way down gently. “I loved her.”

“I’m glad. It was really nice actually.”

You pause, for usually Gojo was not so openly sincere. Then things hit you, last night, how he’d been there for you, holding you through your pain. Now he was here, yes torturing you, but he was the man you've fallen for. He was yours. Your hands cup his face, thumb brushing on his lower lip thoughtfully. He nips at your finger teasingly, with a small little smirk.

“It was really nice. I was so glad to meet her. Meeting my boyfriend’s mom is kind of a new concept so far.” Satoru helps you sit up, and then he’s hugging you. You snuggle against him, inhaling his clean scent.

“Good.” There was something unspoken, lingering between the two of you as you rode to Gojo’s place.

***

“Mmm, that’s yummy! Thank you.” Gojo wiped the whipped cream that slid on the corner of your mouth, licking it off his thumb, the flickering flames from his lit fireplace casting glows on his gorgeous skin, reflecting in the azure pools of his eyes that were full of humor.

You both were sitting on a fluffy dark gray rug, backs against one of his couches, as you went over what you had written so far, adding the final touches. Gojo fed you strawberries with whipped cream, and you were ridiculously happy despite the ache between your thighs. How the man could be so romantic one minute, and so dark the next confused and intrigued you.

Gojo runs a finger across your jaw, kissing you then, and you sigh, pulling back a bit, giggling as he pouts full lips.

“We’re almost done! Then we can kiss.” You peck at his cheek, and he wraps an arm around you, chin on your head, reading over it with you.

“It’s perfect as usual. What should I add?”

“It’s your speech, your award, Satoru.”

“Should be yours.”

“No…” He kissed the top of your head, hand rubbing up and down your arm, fingertips making you tremble. “I help of course but you do a lot. Don’t sit here and discount yourself.”

“Before you I did a lot more. Then… well then you came and did everything so good, so perfect, and I came to rely on it. Like some drug.” His voice was quiet, his words sincere, and you blinked a bit as you looked up, in his arms, his pretty face so full of doubt.

“I also did too much, though. To lose myself in my work, honestly. So It’s understandable.”

“Sure maybe. But I used you.”

“You could use me now.” You tease, and he gives you a charming half smile, running a hand down your curves then, slowly, from your breast to your hips, and back again, every touch lingering.

“Slut.” He murmured, and the word sounded like silk from his lips, dirty but somehow really fucking sweet. Gojo is kissing you again, sensual, possesing your entire mouth, and something was just different, every kiss, every caress, so careful and sweet. “I don’t want to lose you.”

His husky voice was so full of emotion you felt yourself overwhelmed, searching his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise me. Even if I’m stupid?”

“You could stand to think before you do things. But no, I don’t plan on going anywhere, this has just started really and I…” You bite your lip, lashes lowering. “I am really happy.”

He smiled then, looking more like the Satoru you know and loved.

Loved.

Satoru pecked little kisses down your throat, tickling you with those soft lips, and you arched your back, hips moving on their own, hands entwining in his silky hair as your head fell back in pleasure. “I want to keep you.” His whisper tore at you, his vulnerability.

“Then keep me.” Your lips smashed together once more, and a familiar ache throbbed between your thighs, one that he’d been building all day, while longing made your chest tighten. “I only want you, Satoru, only you.” Your confession was a whisper, emotion in your voice.

“I only want you.” He was so serious, so intimate, it ripped down any hope of a last defense. The tension between you two was unreal, both of you so open, both scared but trying, raw to each other.

You could feel the words on the tip of your tongue, words you kept trying to shove down, to reason away why, how, what, all your analytical bullshit. He stopped your thoughts when he got on top of you, flipping you on your back. He was holding your delicate wrists in a tight grip, pressing you into the plush rug, head lowering over yours, lips so close.

You are moaning against his mouth, and something feels different, by the crackling fire, the plush underneath you tickling your skin, and he was so gentle with you, every touch soft and feather light. He slipped your shirt off you, staring down, gaze just drinking you in, and your hips arched up, wriggling under him for contact, your hands gripping his soft shirt.

“You’re perfect.” He murmured, grabbing your breasts with his palms, thumbs playing with the peaks, making them grow taut, aching for more. His lips kissed down one, tongue gently flicking one as his hand played the other. You cry out at the contact, heat spreading like fire.

“Satoru… I- I do… love you. I love you.”

Satoru Gojo paused, leaning up on his hands fast above you, his azure eyes shooting down to yours in shock. Your chest is rising and falling, bare breasts and taut little nipples, his hands still on them, pressing them up, but he faltered at your words, then something relaxed in him, and he eased.

“Yeah? Not just sleep talk?” You smile softly, shaking your head.

“No, it was not just sleep talk. I love you, Satoru. So fucking much that it hurts. Sleeping or awake.”

You said it, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It felt good?

It felt scary.

A moment passes, silent, just your eyes staring into each other.

Gojo kissed you then, deep, grabbing your hips, pulling you against his hard body, lips devouring you, and you relaxed, knowing you had not fucked this up, that he still wanted you. Your tummy trembles, desire pooling in it, drenching you between your thighs, feeling like you and him were the only things in the world, heady and addicting, falling apart.

“You’re fucking in love with me, are you?” He slid a hand down your tummy, under your shorts, finding your bundle of nerves slick with desire, aching so much your jerk at the pleasure, gasping.

“Mnh! Oh god, I’ll never live it down… You’ll torture me about it.” You mumble, he sighs, breath hot against your lips, a softness in his smile.

“Nah, never living it down.” He runs his middle finger in little circles on your clit, lust in his gaze, watching you turn to putty in his hands. “I’ll keep making you say it, too, stroke my ego.”

“You’re such a dick. Ah!” He slid two fingers in you, hitting just so, where you were so sensitive you couldn’t stand it, moaning when that spot hit and you saw stars every fucking time, where he’d hit in the dressing room… fuck.

“Guess what, little brat?” He demanded, voice dark, silken. You struggle to put a word together as he slides off your shorts finally, having just had them shoved to the side.

“Wh-what?” You struggle to find any sense of self, body hot, as he slid in between your thighs, positioning himself at your entrance, hard and thick and covering himself in your slick, tip against your folds. Your hands are on his shoulders, tugging at his shirt, he slides it up over his body, tossing it aside.

“I fucking love you too.” You gasped, and before you could comprehend the foreign words out of his pretty lips, like some fever dream, Satoru thrust his hard cock inside of you. So deep you nearly screamed, hips bucking up, and he stayed there, filling your aching hole, so deep.

“You-you… how? What … Mnh.” Words couldn't form.

He laughed then, pulling back to slide inside of you again, pulling your upper body down on the length of his cock, one of your legs on his arms, the other down around his hip. He starts hitting at such an angle you lose vision again, already embarrassingly close to coming, fucking you senseless.

“What do you mean ‘how’?” He slid his length out and back in, studying your every expression with fervor as he stretched you, as your back arched and your head fell back, entrapped in his being.

Satoru’s grip tightened, bruising, while he was keeping this torturous slow but hard fucking pace, and every time he hit deeper, you lost more of any sense you had left to you, if any, teetering on the edge of losing it. He kissed you brutally, with everything, and you cried out into his mouth, pleasure pulsing around his hard cock, and he hissed, tensing.

Gojo started fucking you faster, now, so passionate, consumed in you as you were him, and before you knew it you were on top, rolling your hips, cumming again, wetness slick on his stomach as you grinded. He groaned, hands on your hips, thin brows together, eyes lidded. He reached out and played your clit with his thumb, and you were leaning back on his thighs now.

“So fucking beautiful.” He sat up, wrapping an arm around you, kissing your throat as you rode his cock.

“Fuck… Ah! I’m cumming.” You managed to whimper, and he picked up your hips then, fucking into you, your tits bouncing in his face. Gojo’s cock is hitting every spot, sliding in your tightening walls, bringing you there again. Each stroke made you lose it more, lose any bit of restraint, and you were screaming and crying, his dick so good it hurt.

“That’s my pretty girl, keep cumming for me.” He kissed your lips, and your thighs grew sore as you grinded on him again, consumed by him. Gojo's hands grabbed your rounded ass, helping you bounce up and down him, you both were dripping with sweat, kisses sloppier by the minute, trail of saliva hanging between you. More and more, you’re gasping for breath when you part for just a moment.

He looked up at you, breathtakingly handsome, and you felt so pretty then, as if you were the only thing he saw, and truly saw, deep inside of you. It made you start to tear up, and he noticed, pausing his thrusts, kissing your salty tears. You shuddered against him, and he eased you on your back again, caressing your hair, sliding back in you, and your tears wouldn’t stop.

“Baby am I hurting you?” Gojo asks, tense as he held himself still, and you shake your head, struggling for words. “You sure? I can ease up.”

“No. No. Feels good. So so good.” He eased out a bit, kissing you, biting your lower lip, being so gentle as he just let you sit there, his cock giving you so much delicious pressure.

“You’re crying.” He swiped more tears.

“I love it, is all. A lot.”

“Yeah?” You nod, then wriggle as he pushes in more, pushing your legs higher, fucking you deep, steady, as you fucking lose it more and more.

“Yes. Yes. Mmhmm. Unh.” He smiles, and starts going faster, picking his pace up, delicious in each fucking stroke, sweat dripping down his brow and onto your face, intermingling with your own tears. “Love… you. Satoru. Mnh I’m dumb.”

“You are. In love with a fucking idiot.” He kisses you again, and you laugh, breathy, before your head tilts back, and his hand is right under your chin, squeezing your cheeks, making you face him. “Look at me.”

Your tears made you choke up then, as he kissed you, whispering your name against your lips, and you inhale each other, breathe each other, falling deeper with each thrust, with each touch, each glance. Your tears don’t stop, so intense a feeling you could not even place it, had never felt it, so whole finally. Emptiness was filled with his kisses, his touches, his every gaze.

“Cum with me, my pretty little brat.”

His words were a velvety caress, as his hand found your clit again, oversensitive, and you’re shattering, everything fuzzy. You feel every nerve ending lighting on fire with pleasure, feeling so amazing when he came inside of you it was like you were just floating. He is moaning, kissing you as he pumped your pussy full, and it felt so fucking intimate it was unreal.

You lay there, spent, tears still falling, and he’s kissing you, caressing your sweaty forehead and damp hair back. You sigh, kissing him back, heart thudding in your ears, still connected together, and grow immediately exhausted, so wiped out from it all. He’d pulled every emotion and feeling, and you felt so much it hurt.

“You’re getting sappy.” He said, on his elbows, brushing your tears with his thumbs. Your lips trembled as you took a breath, and he eases out of you, making you both hiss a bit.

“I am, aren’t I? Want me bitchy?”

“I’ll take you both ways.” Your lips meet in soft little brushes, as you slowly come down to Earth a bit. “Did I fuck you to tears hmm?”

You scoff at that. “You kinda made love to me.”

“I told you that was our next one, remember?” You nod, exhaling, both of your bodies sweating as the fire warmed you, just staring at each other. “You didn’t think I could either.”

“I just know you like to be a whole fucking freak.” He grins. “Nothing wrong with it but this surprised me.”

“I waited for the perfect time. You’re all crying and professing your love for me, after all.”

“You’re annoying.” You rolled your eyes, but you did not really mean it, in fact everything about him pulled you more and more. “You said it too.”

“Mmhmm. I did.” He kissed your forehead, sweetly, and your eyelashes flutter shut in bliss, his hard body easing off you, making you instantly miss it, reaching back out for him. “God you’re greedy.”

“I kinda wish we could stay here forever.”

“You’re so corny too.”

“I know.”

He sits you up, then, much to your tired body’s dismay, his gaze drinking in every feature, as you did to him. “My dick is so good you went from hating me to loving me in like two weeks.”

“Whatever! It was not your dick.”

“Liar.”

“It was not even.” You two hold hands, errantly playing with each other’s fingers, and something is completely different now that the words were out, it was as if there was more intimacy, more openness. You relish in it. “It was a lot more than that.”

“Yeah? List my praises.” Strong hands grip soft skin, pulling your body against his side, just holding you. You watch the glow of the shadows dance around the empty room, a room that now smells just like you two, like your passion, your sweat, full of your energy.

“I kind of love everything about you.” He’s silent, and you just let him be, continuing to enjoy his gentle hold. “I think I started feeling things on my birthday and they grew very fast. Scary fast.”

“Mine didn’t grow, really…”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “They didn’t?”

“Mmm, I kinda fell off the deep end so to speak. I’m not a gradual person, if you haven’t noticed. It’s all in or not.”

“When did you think you’d fallen?”

“This will sound corny, yuck.”

You giggle, looking up at him. “It’s the night for it all.”

His jaw is tense, you watch the muscles contract a bit, eyes going a little glassy as if he were deep in thought. “When you fell out of the boat, that shit terrified me, like I can’t explain… I don’t know. I looked at you, when you were undressing, something hit me kind of hard. I mean it’s more intense now but it was already there. Not to mention I had feelings to begin with.”

“You did?” You ask in shock. He shrugs.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you though. Not really.”

“I felt something when we met too… but it was like a taboo I guess? And you seemed really unattainable.”

“Me? Unattainable?” You nod. “How. I fucked every woman in the city I think.” He made you laugh then, sighing.

“I wasn’t ‘arm candy’.”

“You sure the fuck are.” He tilts your chin up, other hand stroking your bare back in little caresses. “You just were more about business and shit. There was nothing wrong with that. I thought you were unattainable.”

“ Me ? You’re Gojo though.”

“You’re just different than what I’m used to. I guess.”

“Hmm. We still have a lot to learn about each other, don’t we?”

“You may not like everything you learn about me.” At the pain in his voice, you took his face in your hands, shaking your head.

“I can handle whatever, okay? Promise.”

He opened his mouth a bit, clearly shaken, but then closed it, nodding and snuggling back up with you. “You feel so good in my arms. It’s weird you didn’t used to be here.”

“Do you miss all the women?”

“Nope.”

“Not at all?”

“Why would I? I have you here.” He says it so simple, and you enjoy the gentle massage on your back, easing into his embrace.

“That makes me happy.”

“Good. Now let’s get you to bed, sleepy ass. Before you snore and drool on this expensive fucking rug.” He teased, and you giggled, shoving at him.

“Don’t wanna move! It’s comfy here.” He laughs.

“Do I need to carry you every single night, princess?” He teased, and you nod honestly uncaring. He huffs, picking you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, kissing it. “So pampered. Prissy little bitch.”

“It is nice to be carried all over by my handsome boyfriend.” You mumble, and he takes you to the bed, easing you down and sitting next to you, caressing your face.

“You just want me because I make you sleepy. I have some tranquilizer dick or something.”

You giggle, eyes fuzzy as you start to feel exhausted. “I want you for lots of reasons. My comfy, comfy man.” Satoru pauses, as you run your hand down his bare chest.

“Does my dick make you drunk?” He teased, easing the bit of tension, as you both kept having scary fucking feelings grow for each other. You rolled your eyes and snuggled on his comfy pillows.

“Mmm. I’m just really happy, jerk.” You smile up at him, arms around his pillow, and he smiles back, a little half turn of his lips. He brushes your hair back and leans close.

“I don’t wanna fuck that up. Ever.” His voice was husky.

“You love me , Satoru.” You whisper, bold and sleepy, sitting up, kissing him. He sighs, wrapping his arms around you, so strong, yet so comfortable.

“You said it first, though, so I win.” You snort, and shake your head, staring at his handsome features in the soft light of the room.

“Is everything a competition with you?”

“Everything.” He wiggled his brows, and you just shook your head with an eye roll.

“Fine, you win, I did say it first. I do love you, big manchild idiot that you are.” You earn a smack on the ass, stinging, making you wince.

“I love you, mean ass little bitch.” He might as well have said some damn poem, because those words melted you, and you all kept kissing, until you were yawning, mumbling from exhaustion, and he was tucking you in. “It’s been a long day, you can’t handle this much teasing apparently, fucking nun.”

“Fuck you… Satoru… I handled it fine.” You mumble, and he’s coming to lay behind you now, pulling you against him.

“Get some rest. We can even sleep in, the ceremony isn’t until late.” You sigh, easing into the embrace, kissing him on the hand that held you tight.

“Mmm, sleeping in sounds good. Good night, Satoru.” You mumbled, sleep taking over.

“Good night, my little sleep talker.”

You giggle as you fall asleep in his arms.

A weight was lifted, now he knew.

And now, you know, how he really felt.

Chapter 12

Ao3 Chap:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/142555756

[projectbluearcadia]

[P2] My Love, I Am Drinking PLeNTy of WAteR

NSFW Lucifer x F!MC Spice Rating - 4/4 HOLY F*CK THAT'S HOT

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

I fully support Luci having a praise kink, full stop. :) @ourfinalisation the food is ready muahaha.

Wordcount: 2470

smutty notes (consult if you haven’t read my smut before.)

“It’s so hot in here,” he complains, still picking at his buttons and undoing them all out of order. It would help if you didn’t keep your fireplace lit all the time, you think as you help him take his vest off. “Mmm… aren’tchu hot too?” 

---

“...yes,” you reply honestly after a moment, almost unconsciously helping him out of his shirt to leave his chest exposed. 

“Then… let’s cuddle naked!” 

Oh good lord… you think, not quite sure how to respond to the innocent way he said that. Neither of you kept your hands off each other when the clothes were gone. But then you’d be taking advantage of a drunk. Though the only reason Lucifer would be upset about you doing that to him is that he wouldn't remember the experience. 

Of course, Lucifer’s jumping full-steam ahead as he takes your shirt off and presses his face into your belly as he hugs your lower abdomen.

“C’mere, MC… stop just standing there holding my mug like a pretty mannequin… Let me love you!” He pulls, and you half-stumble your way to half-sitting on him. He takes the mug from your fingers, sliding it open and taking a drink before he grimaces at you. “That is the most watery coffee I have ever tasted,” he says in the most grave tone of voice that you can’t help yourself from bursting out laughing. “You should be ashamed of yourself, MC; why are you laughing?” 

“You’re already wasted, Lucifer; I’m not giving you caffeine too,” you reply after you recover, belatedly realizing that his hands are shimmying your pants off you. He started this, you think before you unzip him, and, amused, watch him try to take his trousers off with you sitting on one of his thighs. 

“You’re mean,” he says as you laugh again. “You know I’m all…” He makes a vague gesture, and you smile as you obligingly help him undress the rest of the way. You worry your lip lightly as your eyes carelessly absorb him for a moment, half-fantasizing about absolutely wrecking him so that he wakes up embarrassed without even remembering why. No, MC, only if he pushes it. Still… naked cuddles. On his bed. Where we’ve had sex several times.

You don’t even get to the cuddling part because Lucifer had already pulled you on top of him, kissing you. You have the sudden and distinct suspicion that the conniving little shit had been actually planning to make love to you since the moment he came home. Yeah… come to think of it, the way he looked at you at the door was pretty close to his “I want to fuck you so bad right now” face. 

“MC… I wish you were always here,” he mumbles before he kisses up and down your neck. “Every time I think of you, I want to hug you, and then I get hard thinking about you, and then I feel bad when you’re not even there…” 

“I can’t be in here perpetually,” you joke, though he obviously takes it seriously. 

“You could if I tied you down,” he grumbles, nibbling on your collar. “Then I could do anything I want whenever I want.” He pauses before he groans and butts his head softly against your chest. “I’m sorry that I fantasize about that. I’m not an asshole that would use you and do bad things to you and, I just… want more of you…” You pet his head sympathetically, surprised by his consideration. 

“I fantasize about slightly concerning things too, Lucifer.” Some things I wish I had the ovaries to ask you to try with me. “So don’t worry about it. We’ll talk about it if it’s a problem.” 

“You're so sweet… what’d I do to deserve you???” Lucifer squeezes you tight to him. “Can I thank you? Can I eat you out?” You decide to throw away how startled you are by the sudden offer. Oral from you? The person who rarely does it unless I (sexually) beg for it? You think I’d say no? 

Saying “yes” would quickly become a regret. But all in good time. 

As it turns out, Lucifer’s drunken stupor meant he was a lot more into making noise during sex, and that included while he was busy thrusting his tongue inside you. Not to mention when he was busy licking the hell out of your clit like it had something sweet and sticky on it. And there he was, flushed and naked between your legs, eagerly taking what seemed like mouthfuls of your slick and heartily groaning like it was his first meal in five years. 

You thought he wasn’t lucid enough to pleasure you with his fingers, which was why it was taking you a little bit of time to cum. Oh, how wrong you are. No, this fucker is playing with you. 

Which is why you’re so surprised when he starts giving both your clitoris and your eager pussy attention, nibbling and sucking and rubbing. Your orgasm at that point is very forthcoming. 

As is the one directly following it. 

“Lucifer,” you gasp, squeezing his hair in your hands. 

“Mmm… I’m not finished drinking my water~” the little shit teases into you, and you’re quickly learning that his desire to see you overstimulated is even more pronounced than usual. 

Which is why it was a mistake. Because you’re now on your fourth orgasm, and he didn’t seem like he was going to stop until he had destroyed your sanity. 

“Lucifer… please… can’t,” you try between gasps, and he kisses your thigh. 

“Just a little more? You’re so good for me; just let me do everything, okay? Just a little more… want you to like it.” He gives you another lick that practically sends stars to your eyes, looking up at you as you try in vain to squeeze your thighs closed. 

“Bad…Lucifer,” you mewl as he keeps giving your clit attention, his long fingers still nursing your ever-tightening insides. He stops, right as you were reaching another peak.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, not seeming to realize the fact that he’s edging you. “I wante’to see your face when your brain has nothing in it but me…” Didn’t you get that out of me the first time!?!?

“Lucifer, I’m already thinking just about you, so please let me finish…” 

“No, not that, I want to see your fucked out face. The way you drool and cry and stop being able to form a sentence.” Fucking hell, he’s remembering that? Now? “But I can’t?” Lucifer makes a face like a kicked puppy, making an x with two fingers, one of which was struggling to separate from a wet membrane attached to the other finger. 

“Goddammit, do whatever you want, just please!” You groan, covering your eyes and feeling your cheeks warm. You can practically feel him brighten as he dives back between your folds. Not long afterwards, your most intense orgasm makes you scream his name while you grip his hair frantically like you’re trying to shove him even closer than he already is. 

Calming down is almost an ordeal as he licks at your convulsing, needy hole that was currently spilling your release like it was water. 

“I think this is better than demonus,” he mumbles, probably to himself, but your ears catch it just fine. You really can’t tell whether he’s referring to your pleasure or messily drinking in your natural lubrication. Is this what he fantasized about without telling you? Getting on his knees and tongue-fucking you so hard that your entire body was left buzzing afterwards? “MC?”

“Wh… What?” you gasp, faintly realizing he’s finally risen from his position on the floor, his lips and the tip of his nose still shining. 

“Love you,” he says sweetly, kissing your lower stomach and almost making you convulse in the process. Especially because the rosy head of his cock is very much visible from between your knees. “Did you like my thank-you? You did, right? I was good, right?” He looks up at you like he wants to be petted, and you just can’t help yourself from fluffing his hair. He leans into your touch, letting out a satisfied, deep hum. You internally promised to tease him later for this. As payback. 

“Yes… you were good.” It seems like your praise just makes his cock stand up even taller, and you feel your insides twitch in response. You have your doubts that he can stay concentrated enough to keep it up, but God, you’re wishing he would. “I never knew you liked it this much whenever I praise you,” you tease him. 

“...maybe I have a kink for it.” Lucifer slurs. “Izzat a bad thing? Can I be a top with a praise kink?” 

“Of course, silly.” You ruffle his hair some more, just messing it up even further. There is certainly a quiet yet powerful satisfaction in knowing you’re the only one allowed to see him like this. To do this to him. “Everyone likes being praised for doing something well. Even you.”

Lucifer giggles a little and says, “How come you’re so wise when you’re less than a hundredth of my age?” 

You have to bite your tongue to avoid calling him an old man and killing his happy mood. He’s already insecure about that no matter how many times you told him that you didn’t care because he (and his brothers) never acted like, thought like, or looked like his age.

“You’re drunk, one, and two, you restrict yourself too much for the sake of your pride, so you don’t use that wonderful brain of yours.” 

“Mmm…” Lucifer kisses you, and for a moment you cringe at the taste of yourself before you get used to it. In another moment, your body is pressing harder into his lavishly soft bed as Lucifer’s hovers over you. “Fucking hell, I love you so much,” he mumbles before he dives back to your lips, the wet sounds of his kisses echoing through your ears. “Want you… Want to put it in… mn… what position do you want? Missionary? Please say missionary.” You must say, Lucifer’s flushed, hopeful expression is a sight to behold as he eagerly waits for your response. 

“Missionary is fine,” you reply with a soft grin as you rubbed his cheek. He pushes into your touch, closing his eyes and savouring it. “Come here.” 

“Cum where?” he asks, blinking at you with a dusting of pink on his ears. “I-I mean, it’s not a problem, I um… I would like that a lot actually…” Lucifer’s blush turns darker. “Wait… shit.” Lucifer buries his hot face in your chest. “...sorry.” 

“What are you apologizing for? That’s a normal mistake in this setting.” 

“No, I’m apologizing for the image that popped into my head.” 

“You don’t have to be shy; you can tell—” 

“MC, please, let this one just… stay in my head. It’s really bad.” 

“...I won’t press you right now because you’re making me impatient, but I’m going to find out later what kind of dirty shit is going through your m—Aghnnn!” 

Lucifer groans into your neck, softly panting as he shoves his last inch into you. He throbs against your walls, and you cling to his sweating back, softly digging your nails in from his size. 

“Don’t ask…” he mumbles, drawing himself out as he traces over your nipples, the pads of his fingers circling the hardening nubs. He snaps his hips forward again, leaving you gasping as stars flicker brightly in your eyes. “But… it made me really excited, so…” 

“Ughn ah…! Ahh!” you moan out, your voice abruptly starting to fail as Lucifer grips a tight hold of your hips and starts slamming himself into you over and over again. Your overstimulated clitoris seems to thrum with static, and it thrums harder when Lucifer presses close to messily kiss your neck. 

“Gh… Every time…” he groans, his voice strained. “Your pussy always sucks me in so hard… Hghn. it makes me feel like… I’ll lose it right away.” And as if he wants to prove himself wrong, he starts going at you faster, leaving you gasping and crying at the ceiling, speechless as you actively claw at his back.

Your clit, alongside the place deep inside you that loves Lucifer's thrusts, are receiving such great stimulation that you can barely say anything. All that comes from you are your incoherent whines and raspy croaks alongside the creaks of the bed and the lewd slurps of your soaking wet hole taking Lucifer in over and over again. 

And then, all movement ceases, leaving you looking up dumbly at his concerned face.

“MC? Are you okay?” he murmurs. “Am I hurting you?” God bless this sensitive dingbat, but fucking hell, why does he always stop at the worst damn time? 

“Hghhn… n…no,” you manage to moan out, your vision flickering with how tight your lower abdomen is. You just barely manage to urge him closer, squeezing him with your legs before he throws your ankles over his shoulders, his hands squeezing your thighs as he climbs back up to his earlier pace.

“MC,” Lucifer gasps, dropping his head down to yours, digging his neatly trimmed nails into you as he falters. “MC.” He kisses you again as your nails score scratches into his back that, if anything, just egg him on. “MC, going to… together… please…”

“Yes,” you cry out. “Lucifer…!” With your vision dyed a startlingly brilliant white, your body floating somewhere in the sky, attached only to the electrifying feeling of Lucifer’s body against yours, you’re left to soak it in while you try to get your bearings back. 

It’s as you’re calming down that you realize Lucifer is drowsily wrapping his arms around you, squeezing your sweaty bodies together in the center of his bed. He snuggles you, getting himself comfortable as he whispers half-broken sweet nothings in your ear. Just a moment later, and he falls sound asleep, his soft breathing falling on your flushed skin. 

“Well… I guess the shower can wait,” you croak as you nuzzle him, your own drowsiness sweeping over you in the warmth of Lucifer’s embrace. Not a bad reward for looking after his brothers while he’s gone… I can’t wait… to see his sleepy face in the morning…

Bonus:

Lucifer woke up first about six hours later, painfully hungover and not quite remembering why he was still inside you. Almost everything came back to him however when you explained to him what had happened, and he proceeded to apologize several times, his cheeks flaming red behind his hands. 

You later shared a bath together, Lucifer insisting that he should spoil you for behaving in such a “boorish and absolutely unacceptable manner unbefitting of a responsible demon.” He cleaned you up with meticulous care despite the fact that he was nursing a very stubborn case of morning wood.

[morning-star-joy]

Babe congratulations on your milestone! You deserve all the effing followers in the world for your amazing talent and sweetness. I would like to request ✨every✨ kiss prompt for ASHWAH please 😌 just kidding (not really) but seriously: slow kisses prompt for my babies cause they deserve all the long, passionate and slow kisses after a whole fucking year of holding back 🥹

Thank you so much my dear!!! I'm so glad you requested a kiss prompt for ASHWAH, because I am dying to write all the kisses for these two now. You're right, they absolutely deserve it!

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, established relationship, set in the ASHWAH universe right after Chapter 20.

Warnings: Pure fluff. That's it.

Wordcount: 701

Part of my 700 follower celebration. If you want to send in a request for a drabble, check out the prompt list here!

That night when you first kissed Joel, after so much time spent longing for him, he had taken you to bed just like you asked him to, wrapped up in each other’s arms until you fell into a deep, blissful sleep.

Waking up the next morning to being curled up in his arms may have just been one of the most cherished moments in your tumultuous life. Head resting on his chest as it rose and fell slowly with his deep breathing, you listened to his heart beat steadily under your ear, smiling against his skin as his strong arms tightened around you each time you shifted slightly.

You lifted your head, glancing over how the hard lines of his face seemed softer as he slept so peacefully like this, the wrinkles on his weathered face less prominent as he held you close, his affection for you now palpable even when he was unconscious.

It didn’t take long for your eyes to travel down to his lips, so full and pink, still slightly swollen from all the kisses you had shared last night. Once you had started kissing, you had hardly been able to stop, and you bit your own puffy lips, unable to resist temptation as you pushed yourself up to gently kiss him again now.

The kiss was chaste and soft, not wanting to wake him up when he looked so peaceful like this. But the longer he slept so soundly, the more restless you got, almost desperate in how you craved his attention so soon after you had experienced it fully in all its unashamed fondness last night.

You pressed gentle kisses over his face then, mapping out each wrinkle under your lips, tracing the scar on his temple and the one over the bridge of his nose before your mouth met the scruff of his beard, a rare giggle escaping your lips at the scratch of the facial hair against them.

Joel began to shift then, his arms subconsciously tightening around you, and you nipped gently at his jaw, smiling against the mark you soothed with your tongue at his quiet grunt before leaning up to press another slow kiss to his lips.

This time, he reciprocated, kissing you back without a second thought even as his eyes had yet to open.

After a few long kisses where you just cherished the way your lips molded so perfectly together, you pulled back, smiling down at him as he finally blinked a few times, vision focusing on you hovering above him.

A lazy smile curled onto the corner of his lips, and you couldn’t help but grin down at him, feeling an odd sort of giddiness you had never experienced before just from the way he was looking at you now—so openly fond, making your heart race and toes curl with anticipation not even for sex, but intimacy.

“Morning,” Joel rumbled, deep voice thick with sleep, and you hummed, kissing him again, sucking his lower lip into your mouth and eliciting a quiet groan from his throat that made you giggle into his mouth again.

“Morning, cowboy,” you murmured, slipping your tongue into his mouth to kiss him sensually now, passionately, his hand reaching up to cup the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he gladly returned your affection first thing in the morning.

“Never heard you make those kinds of sounds before,” he said quietly, nipping at your lower lip as you giggled again, too overcome with happiness at this step forward in your relationship to focus on the way your cheeks heated with any lingering uncertainty.

“Guess we have all sorts of new things to learn about each other now,” you whispered, humming happily as his hand shifted to cup your cheek, pulling you back so he could gaze up into your eyes.

“Guess so,” he whispered, brown eyes large and so soft, and you sighed, leaning your face into his palm as you couldn’t bring yourself to ever look away.

This level of intimacy was new to you, but, fuck, it felt good. 

Because it was with Joel, it felt perfect.

Like you were where you were always meant to be.

Home.

[animasola86]

A Night in the Undercroft (4/4)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!mc Genre: Fluff Words: 3.3k

Synopsis: After visiting Anne in Feldcroft with Solomon being the horrible person that he is, Sebastian and MC return to the Undercroft for some healing intimacy and must now deal with the consequences.

Warnings: Mentions of sex and soreness. Embarrassment. The Talk.

-- can be read on AO3 too -- Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 --

Warning: There is no smut under the cut! What? No smut? What's going on? It's still an entertaining read I hope! Please give it a try!

The Day After

They walked from the Undercroft to the Great Hall in comfortable silence, Sebastian's hand tightly wrapped around Nebbia's. Every now and then she would throw him a curious side-glance and whenever she would look away again, she would feel her cheeks blush just a little bit more. He looked deep in thought, and even though he might be reflecting on what she had told him last night, she could only imagine what he was thinking about.

Ever since they had returned from Feldcroft, she hadn't had a single moment to really think about what she had witnessed there. Aside from his obvious sadness and affliction about it. Of course she had tried to comfort him, distract him even, and she knew she would do it again, whenever he needed it. And he seemed to need it, not just the distraction that her body might give him, but the comfort, the hugs, the touches, the attention. Having seen him being treated so poorly by his uncle had made her so incredibly angry and sad.

Because she had absolutely no idea about the topic, she had always thought families, blood relatives, would automatically love and cherish each other, because they were a family, they had to do that, right? But apparently it wasn't the norm. Poor Sebastian. He didn't deserve this. All he tried to do was cheer up his sister, give her a moment of joy and peace in her constant turmoil and pain. Obviously Nebbia didn't know the whole picture, but in her eyes, his uncle had completely overreacted.

In this dark world, hope was such a precious gift and denying anyone even the slightest sliver was just downright cruel. She'd only met Solomon once, but she knew that she would hate him forever. And nothing would change her mind. Unconsciously or not, she squeezed Sebastian's hand and inhaled deeply.

“Are you okay?” she heard him ask and looked up in surprise. A small smile tugged at her lips. Of course he would worry about her when she was just worrying about him.

“I'm fine,” she replied quietly, watching him as closely as he was watching her.

“Are you sure? No... pains or anything?”

His question confused her a little. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled shortly and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. There was even a faint blush on his cheeks. “Well, I mean... because of last night... Do you feel alright?”

“Oh,” she made when she realized what he was referring to. Her blush grew. “I... uh, yes, I feel alright, I think. I don't know? Am I supposed to feel anything?”

He laughed at that. “I don't know,” he admitted and looked back at her with a sly smirk. “I just hope I wasn't too... rough?”

She raised her eyebrows and parted her lips in a mixture of embarrassment, indignation and amusement. “No. No, I don't think so,” she replied with a nervous chuckle, scratching the side of her face with her free hand. “I think you were... quite gentle. The first time anyway,” she added in a low whisper, her cheeks now fully red.

He squeezed her hand and laughed quietly before he stopped walking, causing her to look up at him. Without saying anything else, he leaned down and softly pressed his lips against hers, hovering there for a few seconds with his eyes fixed on hers. She smiled against his lips. He gave her another peck and leaned back, exhaling deeply.

“Let's get breakfast, I'm starving,” he then said and pulled her along the hallway. She followed him without hesitation, the blush and smile never leaving her face.

Once they walked through the large doors into the Great Hall, the hustle and bustle of breakfast hit them with full force. The chattering and laughter and overall commotion so loud compared to the quiet hallways, it took Nebbia a moment to adjust to. Her eyes wandered over the tables, while Sebastian already pulled her down the aisle between the Ravenclaw and the Slytherin ones. She was about to let go of his hand and settle down with her housemates, when he pulled her towards him.

“Come sit with me today,” he offered and looked down at her with a soft smile.

She blinked slowly. “Am I allowed?” she whispered a little timidly, already feeling the stares of the green-clad students on her.

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “It's just breakfast, you only have to sit with your house on special occasions.”

She gave him a shy smile back and nodded. “Okay.”

He squeezed her hand, then let it go to sit down on the bench, waiting for her to follow him. Once she sat down beside him, a sudden jolt of pain rushed through her and she issued a little wince, quickly clearing her throat to mask the noise. Either the Slytherin bench was much more uncomfortable than the Ravenclaw one or she didn't feel alright after all. Swallowing hard, she tried to ignore the dull pain in her lower body and shifted slightly until she found a position that wasn't as bad.

Sebastian hadn't noticed her discomfort and was just offering her a plate and a bowl. “So, are you the savoury type or the sweet type?”

“Huh?” she asked, genuinely confused.

He laughed. “Eggs and sausages or cereal?”

“Oh,” she made and chuckled nervously. “Cereal.”

“Of course, the sweet type, should have known,” he said with a wink and put the bowl in front of her, then handed her the box of Cheeri Owls and a jug of milk.

She blushed and giggled quietly, tempted to elbow him, when her gaze fell on the girl sitting across from them who gave her the biggest scowl she'd ever seen on a human face.

“I think I'm going to throw up,” the girl said darkly.

“Be nice, Imelda,” Sebastian commented and shot the other Slytherin a grin.

The dark-haired girl scoffed and shook her head, poking her eggs with a fork. “Can't believe you actually went for the new girl,” she replied as if Nebbia was not sitting right there.

Something inside her stomach stirred. Before he could say anything to that, she clenched her jaw and stared at the other girl. “What makes you think I didn't go for him?”

She felt Sebastian's eyes on her, but she held Imelda's gaze until the other girl raised her eyebrows and looked away with another scoff. “As if I care,” she muttered.

Before Nebbia could turn her head towards him, she felt his hand on her thigh. Looking up with her cheeks blushed, she met his wide, warm smile. They just looked at each for another moment, assessing the comment and deeming it unnecessary to talk about further, then focused both back on their breakfast. All he did was squeeze her thigh lightly. She smiled as she leaned forward to grab a spoon.

They ate in silence, just enjoying each other's company and completely ignoring any stares or comments from other students. She couldn't care less and she knew he felt the same. From the moment they'd met, it hadn't mattered what anyone else thought about them. They wouldn't be where they were right now, if either of them thought twice about the gossip. She shot him the occasional side-glance and noticed his smirk every time. It certainly felt nice being this intimate, or at least close to each other, in public.

It made her forget about anything else.

It was only when she heard the faint ringing of a bell that she remembered that she had classes. “Don't you have classes too?” she asked him when she stood from the bench, barely noticing that the Hall had cleared out immensely. Where did the time go?

“I would have had Quidditch practice,” he replied, standing up as well. “But with Black cancelling the season, there's not really any point to it, is there?”

She looked up at him, still not quite understanding what exactly Quidditch was, but she was nevertheless curious about it, even more so now that she knew he was a part of it.

“So what's your next class?” he asked as they both left the Great Hall.

“Flying,” she said as she took a look at the crumpled piece of parchment she had fished from the inside of her robes.

He smirked at her as his eyes moved over her schedule along with her. “Do you enjoy that? Sitting on a broom?”

“Well, I've only had one lesson so far and it was... well, interesting. You know Muggles use brooms for sweeping, right?”

He laughed heartily. “So I've heard. Ridiculous.”

She threw him a playful pout. “Mock all you want, it got the job done!”

“I bet not as good as one of these things would,” he said and drew his wand from his pocket, smirking at her.

“Yes, yes, whatever,” she scoffed and poked his chest. “You and your fancy magic tricks...”

“You know you're one of us now, right?” he whispered as he leaned closer, his face taking up her entire vision.

“I can still remember being a Muggle, can't I?”

“Of course,” he said quietly. “Makes for the funniest stories,” he teased.

She scowled at him, but then pressed her lips to his for a quick peck. “I suppose you'll have to wait for more funny Muggle stories. I have to go sit on a broom now!” she declared and leaned back, squaring her shoulders.

He chuckled at her as he leaned back up to his full height, watching her with an amused glint in his dark eyes. “You have fun with that. Hope it doesn't hurt too much,” he added as he turned to leave.

She stared at him a little dumbfounded. “What –”

He just winked at her and waved. “I'll see you for lunch, right?” He didn't wait for her answer, just turned around and headed to the Grand Staircase. A faint chuckle echoed back to her.

She frowned at him as she watched him go, then turned the other way and headed outside, trying not to dwell on his words. They came back to her full force when she eventually mounted the aforementioned broom and felt a sharp pain rushing through her loins. She immediately dropped the broom and inhaled deeply, trying to breathe through the discomfort. Luckily nobody seemed to notice her struggle, they were all busy sitting up on their brooms and ready to fly their laps around the Quidditch pitch as Madam Kogawa had instructed.

Yet when she remained the last one to mount her broom, the teacher came over and watched her with a stern gaze. “What seems to be the problem, Miss DeLuca?” she asked.

Nebbia grabbed the broom and put her leg over it again, furrowing her brows deeply. “I... um... nothing, I just...”

“Can't sit down, huh?”

She looked up with a frown. The older woman watched her, somehow knowingly.

“It's just... a muscle ache, I...” she stammered.

“Muscle ache, sure. You're sore, huh?” Madam Kogawa sighed deeply. “You blasted teenagers...” she added and shook her head.

She watched the teacher with wide eyes, confused and slightly embarrassed. “What –”

“Go see Nurse Blainey, immediately!” the older woman told her and grabbed the broom she had failed to sit upon.

“What? Why?” she exclaimed in slight defiance.

Madam Kogawa stared at her hard, before she spoke very quietly, yet sternly. “You've had sex, haven't you?”

Nebbia went red immediately, absolutely mortified by her teacher's observation. She looked down at the grass and breathed heavily, hearing the woman sigh deeply again as her heart pounded against her ribs.

“Go see the nurse, now!” she just ordered and walked away, shaking her head.

Swallowing hard, still trying to get over the embarrassment, she started walking, slowly, before she fell into a jog, determined to put as much distance between her and the absolutely horrifying situation she had just had.

Even though she didn't quite know where the Hospital Wing was, she headed to Central Hall, hoping to find any directional clue there, yet when she reached the large fountain she saw something else that might help her. Or someone.

“Sebastian!” she called as she saw him heading through the door leading to the library. He halted and turned around, his solemn face quickly lighting up when he saw her.

“Hey,” he said as he walked towards her with a smile. “I thought you had class.”

“Well, you... were right,” she admitted, her cheeks still flushed badly.

He tilted his head, watching her. “What do you mean?”

“It... hurt,” she just said and cleared her throat. She saw his eyebrows rising up and a surprised look fell onto his face. “And... Madam Kogawa knew.”

His frown got bigger, a slight terror crossing over his brown eyes. “She... knew?”

“And she's sending me to see the nurse,” she said, unable to meet his eyes for a moment.

“Oh,” he said and after a moment of silent contemplation, he simply grabbed her hand and led her in the direction of the Hospital Wing. “I'm sorry,” he added quietly and she shot him a side-glance.

Despite the humiliating nature of the situation, she couldn't help but laugh. “Yes, well, you better make up for it later,” she whispered and he turned his head towards her and smirked.

He squeezed her hand. “You bet I will,” he said with a wink.

Once they reached the large door to the infirmary, he stopped walking and looked at her.

“So, I suppose I'd better wait outside,” he then said and let go of her hand to shove his hands into his pockets.

She tilted her head, before realization struck her and she blushed slightly more. “Well, I suppose. Thank you for showing me the way.”

“Of course.”

She raised a hand and waved at him shyly and a little nervously, before she entered the Hospital Wing, her legs trembling and her muscles aching even more in the prospect of having to talk about her soreness with yet another woman.

“I'll be right with you,” she heard the nurse call from the other side of the room. “Take a seat on an empty bed please!”

She did was she was told, yet as soon as she did sit down, she stood up quickly again, unable to hide the wince this time. And suddenly the nurse was behind her and clicked her tongue knowingly.

“Or don't take a seat,” she muttered with a raised eyebrow. “Muscle soreness, correct?” she just said and Nebbia nodded, feeling just as mortified as before. “When did that happen?”

“What?” she asked a little confused.

“When did you have sex?” the nurse asked as if talking about what she had eaten for breakfast.

Her whole body tensed up and the heat in her cheeks was burning her alive it seemed. “Last... last night...” she replied barely audible. “And... this morning...” She felt so uncomfortable as she stared at the ground, wringing her hands tightly.

The nurse sighed deeply and walked away to a cabinet full of vials and flasks. “Have you been safe?” she asked from across the room and Nebbia looked up horrified, quickly assessing the room. There were certainly other people in here. This couldn't get any more humiliating.

She waited with her answer, until the nurse returned to her. “I... I don't know,” she admitted, not entirely sure what the other woman meant.

Nurse Blainey glared at her and shook her head. “You teenagers and your blasted hormones...” she muttered under her breath as she rummaged through a box she had brought from the cabinet. “You just follow your urges and think about it later, if at all.”

If only the ground would split open and swallow her whole.

“Here,” the nurse then said and handed her a small vial. “For the soreness. And this,” she waited until Nebbia met her gaze before she looked at her emphatically. “This is for after. Takes care of... unwanted surprises.” She took the potions with shaking hands, nodded and quickly looked down again. “Come on, drink them!”

She followed the nurse's orders and downed both liquids in quick succession, feeling a sudden warmth rushing through her body. Putting the empty vials down on a nearby table, her hands still shaking, she noticed the nurse filing through a bookcase, before she returned to her with a small book in her hands.

“Read this, study this, carefully and meticulously. Before you engage in any... activity again, understood?” Nurse Blainey looked at her sternly, but with enough warmth to make her feel a little better about the whole situation. “It's for your own good, trust me.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” she replied quietly and pressed the book tightly to her chest.

The other woman waved her off and returned to the other side of the infirmary. Nebbia quickly left the room, her cheeks bright red and her ears burning, finding Sebastian leaning against the opposite wall. She walked up to him and shoved the book into his arms. He caught it with a surprised look on his face, looking first at her, then at the title of the book.

As she watched him take in the topic of the book, she saw his cheeks going slightly red as well. “Oh,” he said with a chuckle. “I see...”

“I have never felt this... mortified in my life!” she exclaimed quietly as she leaned against the wall next to him, covering her burning face with both of her hands. “I bet you never had to endure the talk...”

He laughed darkly. “No, I'm self-taught,” he said with a smirk in his voice. “I'm sorry,” he then added and gently grabbed her wrists to pull her hands down, his eyes warm and comforting. “Really. I shouldn't have... pushed you, before we... properly talked about it...”

She shook her head. “No, it's fine. I don't regret it, if that's what you're implying...”

He watched her for a moment. “Well, I'm glad...”

Chewing on her lips, she then leaned her head against his chest and inhaled deeply. She felt him pull his arms around her shoulders and hug her tightly. They stood like that for a while longer, no words needed, before they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Exhaling loudly, she looked up at him, smiling shyly. He let go of her slowly, a tiny smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. When a group of students walked past them towards the Hospital Wing, she snatched the book out of his hand and squared her shoulders.

“I suppose it is my responsibility as a girl and a Ravenclaw to study this material then,” she declared with a grin. “Before I'll let you anywhere near me again.”

He laughed in surprise, almost looking a little offended. “You do that,” he replied. “And please include me, okay? I don't want to be just responsible for hurting you, I want to help you. This is a two person's job anyway, right?”

She grinned at that. “I reckon it is.” Tilting her head at him, her eyes wandered over his face. Without another thought, she leaned in, grabbed his chin to tilt it down to then press her lips against his. “Kissing is still safe, right?” she whispered against him, her eyes boring into his.

He chuckled against her, one arm around her waist as he pulled her closer. “I bet it is,” he replied and closed the distance between their faces, kissing her softly, quickly making her forget about the humiliation she had just endured.

Notes:

And this concludes my four-part smut-series that I wrote in one afternoon and had to content-vomit all over tumblr and AO3. I just had to get it out.

I hope you enjoyed reading! Thank you for your time! :)

If you came for smut or want to read it again, here are the other parts:

Part 1 - The Night (1)

Part 2 - The Night (2)

Part 3 - The Nightmare

[treesthatarepeachy]

Newlyweds

Okay so I just wrote this and minimally edited this. Pure fluff, nothing but. Jily, because I love them way too much. WC: 454 Is this a microfic? Am I doing it right? 

Lily’s eyelids flutter open briefly, catching a glimpse of the sun streaming through the window. She smiles unconsciously, and pulls the comforter over her shoulder as she turns  onto her right side. The brightness of the morning pries her eyes open once again, and this time they stay that way, feasting on the sight that was in front of her. James is lying face down on the pillow, hair disheveled to such an extent that Lily knows she’s partially to blame. She smiles again as she catches a glimpse of a wet spot of drool under his mouth. 

It was odd, Lily had decided long ago, that such emphasis was put on the wedding night in this day and age. Sex had been important to her, had been important to James as well, but they were well familiar with it by the time they stumbled into their bed last night, drunk off champagne and each other. Her first time had been a big deal to her, and after she thought it was impossible for anyone to love someone as much as she had loved James. Now, Lily thinks that how she loved James in February 1978 had expanded, feeding her soul and growing as she learned more about him. 

She fell in love with a student. Not a boy, but not yet fully a man - though you couldn’t tell him that. The James she fell in love with was noble and kind and caring and thoughtful - she hadn’t thought there was any person that could be more perfect for her. Now, Lily loves a soldier who is still all of those things but more fully developed - James is a man now and Lily is a woman. She lost her girlhood - her innocence - loving James and losing that naivety only made her love him more. 

Lily loved the same man 2 days ago that she loves this morning, even though he drools in his sleep. Yet somehow it feels different.  Her train of thought is cut off by the fluttering of eyelids across from her and she watches as his eyes open and crinkle at the sides as James sees her watching him. 

“Hi,” He says, voice hoarse in a familiar way. 

“Good morning,” Lily responds, then giggling, “husband.”

James grins wide and snorts. Lily laughs again at him. They look like idiots, smiling at each other in the way that hurts their faces. And they continue to do that as James responds. “Good morning, wife.”

They lie there for a moment - two lovestruck dolts smiling at each other in bed. Lily thinks that despite the war going on, there is no version of herself that could be happier than she is right now. Married.

[polyhexian]

TMI.

Read a story about sexual abuse that really made me reflect on my own, and I sort of wonder if I kind of acknowledged it without actually confronting it. I've never really hidden the fact my first relationship was when I was eighteen with a man seven years older than me who had spoken to his friends when I was seventeen that he was just waiting for me to turn and had "called" me so everyone else needed to back off, including the people around me that were my age. I moved in with him basically immediately and he separated me from my family and non mutual friends. I remember googling "is sex supposed to hurt?" After I lost my virginity because of how painful and unpleasant the experience was. "did you really think I was going to date a kid forever?" Was something he said when he broke up with me. And he wanted to "be a big brother figure" to me afterward and for months I clung obsessively to every iota of attention he gave me. I remember crying myself to sleep every night, and not like said silent tears, like open-mouthed wailing so loud my neighbors banged on the wall and told me to shut up. But I was in genuinely physical pain, I hadn't known before that how it could actually hurt like, physically, and so BADLY.

And you know I concluded I was asexual when I was fourteen, something he wanted to fix and said so. Actually I recall I was seventeen the first time he gave me alcohol, and how we went to huge parties where I'd chug shot after shot after shot to prove I belonged there.

It's sort of weird to actually think about how incredibly stereotypical it was now, straight out of the textbook, you know, and how even knowing that it always feels like I'm being a little unfair, he might have been bad, but he never hit me or anything, it wasn't truly abuse, and ultimately I WAS a truly toxic person back then, mean as hell. It feels, at times, like it was more mutual toxicity, but I know that it wasn't. No matter what a shithead I was, it was obvious I was a victim there, even if I feel weirdly guilty for thinking that, like I'm being almost manipulative with the way I portray myself as a victim. Real cognitive dissonance there. Even then I've never really been able to apply the r word to myself there even though I literally woke up once to him jerking himself off with my unconscious hand and then rolled over onto my half-asleep body to fuck. What else do you call that? At the same time, I remember finding it really exciting at the time and even saying afterward I wanted to do that again, which I think honestly disappointed him because he never did it again. And then of course there's the time his dumbass sexual idiocy put me in the hospital and nearly got me fucking killed, probably legitimately the closest I've ever come to death. 105 degree fever, man, that's reaching the territory of causing brain damage. It's nuts how many years literally unable to speak about it out loud because how humiliated I was by it.

I suppose the older I get the more I appreciate how genuinely bad it was and how much worse it got when I got dragged to another continent and fully separated from every human being I knew other than him, including internet friends. And how wild it was that by the time I left Beijing I was literally swigging from a bottle of vodka every morning for work and keeping them in my backpack to just drink whenever, straight from the bottle. And how I've cheekily said oh, yeah, I used to be an alcoholic before, sort of in passing, but like- I mean, I was? That's sort of hard to deny now.

It feels quite odd to reflect on this evening and it occurs to me I've never really spoken about it in detail before, I've mentioned individual things, probably all of this stuff separately, but never really at once. I suppose I sort of thought I was over it, and I sort of am? At the same time, the fact I have so much to say really indicates I probably am not, even if it feels like it.

None of this is a secret or anything, I've shared it all publically before and never really been worried about other people knowing- other than that one incident- I mean I fully understand any person that would ever try to make me feel bad or embarrassed about it is like, a fucking sociopath who's opinion is completely irrelevant. And I think virtually every afab person alive has experienced some kind of traumatic sexually flavoured incident in their lives, even if it was relatively minor, so I think no one would ever be particularly surprised by the revelation.

Odd night. They stopped my medication for my seizure study and I suspect a week off my antidepressants has had a pretty profound affect on my mood lol. I think it's starting to restabilize, though, at least, but I suspect it will be a few more days before I feel normal again.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: David A. Nelson, Edwin E. Gantt

Published: Jan 31, 2023

In December 2020, the former Ellen Page publicly announced a new transgender identity. This announcement came after six-and-a-half years of living and celebrating an openly lesbian life, including nearly three years in a lesbian marriage. Ellen suddenly became Elliot. Overnight, both social and traditional media adapted to this new reality, as referential pronouns were quickly revised and the past was rewritten or redacted. The narrative of Page’s life was reworked to accommodate a new gender “truth.” Now, Page’s former lesbian life could be seen as the (unconscious) expression of a heterosexual identity, one that was punctuated with a heterosexual marriage, a sort of stepping-stone on the way to the most recent claim of authenticity.

For many on the cultural left, there was an immediate rush to praise Page’s announced discovery of a true or “authentic” self. Hillary Clinton, for example, tweeted: “It’s wonderful to witness people becoming who they are. Congratulations, Elliot.” An interview with Oprah and a Time magazine cover story followed. Page’s public revelation was heralded as an act of bravery, emblematic of the actor’s willingness to “speak his truth.”

It’s wonderful to witness people becoming who they are. Congratulations, Elliot. https://t.co/6vdKuH2slV— Hillary Clinton (@HillaryClinton) December 2, 2020

It’s easy (or convenient) to forget that when Page—then Ellen—came out as lesbian in 2014, she similarly presented it as a bold act of truth-telling, proudly proclaiming, “I am gay … I am tired of hiding … I suffered for years because I was scared to be out.” She stated that it was vital “to be authentic, to follow my heart.” She had seemingly found and embraced her true (lesbian) self.

But apparently, that supposedly authentic truth was in fact counterfeit: In 2020, Page, now Elliot, stated, “I can’t begin to express how remarkable it feels to finally love who I am enough to pursue my authentic self.” Elliot also reported in the interview with Time magazine, “I’m fully who I am.” Page has therefore managed to find an “authentic” self at least twice—not counting the actor’s pre-2014, pre-LGBTQ+ life, during which there was no public mention of being either L or T.

Page’s story requires us to re-interpret the actor’s once-authentic-seeming 2014-era expression of lesbian pride as an artifact of self-deception and/or inadequate self-love. Indeed, Page’s lesbian years are now categorized as a period of suffering, oppression, and deceit, with a CBC journalist summarizing it this way: “Page recalled knowing his true identity at age nine when his mother allowed him to cut his hair short—and talked about the happiness he feels with having short hair again.” Oprah followed this narrative in her interview, saying, “all the trauma aside that it took you to get here, the courage that it took you to stand within the truth of yourself and to do the thing that you’ve always known you needed to do” (our emphasis).

Which all sounds very nice and uplifting. But it doesn’t actually make any sense: an “authentic” self that can be summarily abandoned in favor of some new (supposedly more authentic) self is, by definition, inauthentic. In Page’s case, how does anyone know that the actor’s replacement authentic truth won’t itself be renounced in favor of some more exotic (and, of course, more authentic) gender classification?

The question brings us to one of the odder aspects of what some call “gender ideology”—the system of beliefs that casts gender identity as a soul-like spirit marker lodged within every one of us, completely independent of biological markers of sex, and utterly unknowable to the world except through acts of self-identification.

The ideology asserts that individuals are capable of unerringly determining their authentic gender identity; and that it is incumbent on everyone else in society to treat them accordingly. But since these acts of self-identification are based on subjective feelings with no associated set of measurable traits or behaviors, the new identities end up being not only ill-defined (especially when it comes to the “non-binary” label) but unstable. Since the only criterion for gender identity is simply, “I am who I say I am,” the associated claims are treated as completely unfalsifiable, no matter how many different “authentic” forms are presented in succession. Even if one concedes that such individuals are acting entirely in good faith, there’s no guarantee that today’s “authentic” self won’t be denounced as tomorrow’s self-deceiving lie.

In this regard, gender ideology is part of a larger movement that some have called expressive individualism, which one academic has defined as the belief that “human beings are defined by their individual psychological core, and that the purpose of life is allowing that core to find social expression in relationships. Anything that challenges it is deemed oppressive.” Consistent with this idea, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has indicated that repression of one’s “true” LGBTQ+ self may lead to depression, anxiety, and suicidality. Under this framework, anything less than complete “affirmation” of a trans-presenting person’s newly asserted gender identity is cast as a vestige of retrograde belief systems—the dismantling of which will supposedly help usher in a new era of authentic (and therefore more healthy and joyful) existence.

As professors of psychology at a religiously affiliated university (full disclosure: with an honor code that embraces traditional Judeo-Christian morality), we have observed growing evidence that many young people now view anything that challenges their expressive individualism as inherently oppressive. Moreover, this is an ideological system that, by its own terms, no one is permitted to debate or critique, since a person’s supposedly “authentic” self is, by definition, coterminous with truth itself.

Until it isn’t: As with Page, the new authentic truth always supersedes the old one. And in some contexts, one even sees such identity shifting embedded in the movement’s typology—as with “genderfluid,” an identity by which one supposedly may take on all sorts of (temporary) gender statuses as part of one’s overarching genderfluid meta-status. (Like many newly coined terms in this area, “genderfluid” comes with a dizzying array of sub-varieties, such as genderfruct, xenofluid, lunagender, quasifluid, cluttergender, parafluid, and agentogender.)

Singer Sam Smith has made serial LGBTQ+ identity transitions in his ongoing—and apparently tireless—search for authenticity. Like Page, Smith first came out as gay in 2014; yet just three-and-a-half years later announced a newly discovered status as “genderqueer.” After two more years living under that ambiguous label, Smith announced a new (and presumably yet more authentic) identity: non-binary, which is to say, neither fully male nor female.

Needless to say, Smith has passionately denounced the gender binary, though this attitude, too, seems to shift unpredictably. In 2021, Smith called for the BRIT music awards to establish gender-neutral categories. The following year, the male and female categories for Best Artist were indeed abandoned, and merged into one all-inclusive Best Artist (which Adele won). This year, however, the nominees do not include any women at all, something Smith now deems a shame—despite the fact that the very idea of binary man-ness and woman-ness is, Smith has informed us, a sort of mirage.

In May of 2021, pop singer Demi Lovato came out as non-binary, adopting “they/them” pronouns and spurning (previously employed) “she/her” pronouns. One year later, Lovato’s pronouns were abruptly updated to “they/them/she/her.” By way of explanation, the singer asserted that she was at the moment “feeling more feminine.”

This brings us back to gender fluidity, which, as already discussed, seems to be defined as a stable form of instability. Dr. Sabra Katz-Wise, a Harvard Medical School pediatrician, recently explained that such apparent contradictions within gender ideology actually make complete sense: “Oftentimes, people might cycle through different gender identities, or different language they’re using or different pronouns, and it doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re not their true selves. It’s just sort of part of this larger gender journey that people are on.”

Of course, this brings us into even stranger territory, since the very idea of a “journey” involves a trip from A to B. And in the idiom of literature and therapy, the word “journey” is commonly used to describe a protagonist’s (or patient’s) quest to achieve positive change. And so use of the word makes no sense in the context of a person hewing to a single “authentic” state. What kind of “journey” involves no movement whatsoever?

In some ways, the ever-expanding system of gender labels and beliefs seems to be offering young people a surrogate for religious faith, since it serves to assure adherents that they are vested with a special essence that makes them unique and authentic, as well as providing them with a like-pronouned tribe of online supporters (or, if you prefer, congregants). As recently as 2011, the Williams Institute at UCLA had been revising the estimated number of LGB individuals in the US population significantly downward. An Institute demographer estimated in 2011 that 1.7 percent of American adults were gay or lesbian and 1.8 percent were bisexual, with a substantial number of other Americans temporarily experimenting (but not identifying) with gay behavior at some point in their lives. Just a decade later, however, we are now talking about a sharp “generational shift” in the growth of the LGBTQ+ population, a shift that (inversely) mirrors the growing rejection of organized religion among youth.

A 2021 Gallup poll found that the (self-described) LGBTQ+ percentage is basically doubling in the United States with each successive generation, starting from a very small share of those born before 1946 (0.8 percent) up through Gen Z (20.8 percent). Although greater societal tolerance of LGBTQ+ identities presumably played a role in this overall increase, it’s hard to believe that this 26-fold increase isn’t an artifact, at least to some extent, of ideology, cultural factors, and social pressures.

Where the end point lies is unknown. Hollywood actor and producer Taika Waititi has suggested that the “+” at the end of LGBTQ+ is so expansive as to subsume literally every human on Earth, stating, “We’re all queer … innately, humans have all got some degree of queerness in them.” One imagines that even some LGBTQ+ activists are wary of such claims, as universal queerdom would remove the distinctiveness of LGBTQ+ self-identifiers (not to mention the publicity dividend paid out when celebrities announce their queer affiliations). So perhaps the movement will burn itself out once being transgender (or its assorted variants) loses its cachet.

In the meantime, however, great damage is being done, because the idea of gender identity as a permanent and innate marker of human identity encourages gender dysphoric children and adolescents to pursue puberty-blocking and sex-change therapies that come with irreversible medical side effects. And a growing number of “detransitioners” are sharing their stories of regret.

Most of these individuals underwent lengthy treatments or surgeries. But each eventually found that transitioning did not bring about the relief they were promised. Now they seek to return to their natal sex, though often with dramatically altered bodies. In many of these cases, an appropriate dose of skepticism from authority figures may have been the right medicine to save them from the consequences of reflexively “affirmative” medical protocols.

Alia (Issa) Ismail is one prominent example of a natal female who elected to medically transition. Her story was captured in the 2018 documentary film, A Year in Transition. At age 16, Ismail came out as lesbian. A few years later, however, she reinterpreted her feelings as evidence of a transgender identity. She describes her initial period of gender transition as a state of euphoria. But two years into her transition, which included a course of testosterone therapy and a double mastectomy, she began to feel increasingly uncomfortable with her altered body. She eventually detransitioned and now prefers to describe her prior feelings as primarily evidence of body dysmorphia rather than gender dysphoria.

For obvious reasons, transgender activists tend to ignore or downplay stories such as Alia’s, preferring instead to insist that unquestioned and immediate gender transition is necessary to avoid pushing trans-identified teens to suicide—a tactic that some might call moral blackmail. To raise objections or pose critical questions in regard to gender ideology, Elliot Page asserts, is to “have blood on your hands.” Yet studies of the long-term results of medical transition do not provide conclusive evidence that it offers a full retreat from suicidality (though, as in Alia’s case, the hopeful claims surrounding transition can provide a temporary respite from anxiety).

We do not know how many transgender individuals will eventually medically detransition, in part because individuals who detransition often simply stop showing up to the gender clinics where such studies are typically conducted, and so the collection of meaningful longitudinal data is difficult. One 2021 study, for instance, found that a majority of 100 studied detransitioners (76 of them) did not inform their original clinicians about their decision. Another recent study, this one of 952 trans-identified adolescents and young adults, found that only about 70 percent of them continued using their prescribed hormones over the course of four years. (Those who began hormones after age 18 had the lowest continuation rate of any cohort, at about 64 percent).

More research is needed to ascertain exactly why young people halt medical transition, and how many choose to restart such regimens. But at any rate, these data suggest that the frequently repeated references to detransition rates as low as one percent are completely unrealistic. As so-called “gender critical” activists have pointed out, much of the research in this area is flawed and unreliable, in many cases because of the strong overlap between trans activists and researchers.

As therapist Sasha Ayad suggests, a less ideological, and arguably more responsible, way to view transgender identity isn’t as an existential state of being, but rather as a descriptor for individuals who deem transition as the best strategy for dealing with dysphoria—i.e., as an instrumental means of coping with a condition, instead of as a grand statement about one’s foundational identity.

Ayad’s position is still seen as heretical among doctrinaire progressives in the United States and other English-speaking countries. But some government actors are beginning to respond to gender-critical concerns. Notably, British officials recently decided to shutter the country’s only youth gender clinic following multiple scandals. The country’s National Health Service has also bluntly noted that many children who say they’re trans are going through a “transient phase.”

As we debate what strategy best helps children to deal with gender-connected anxieties, it should be remembered that the expectation of immediate “affirmation” is only a recent trend. By contrast, the so-called watchful-waiting approach, whereby children are diagnosed and treated holistically to see how their dysphoria develops, has been the primary therapeutic approach for decades—and has helped many youth avoid unnecessary medical interventions. Where the latter approach is concerned, over a dozen longitudinal studies suggest that gender dysphoria is indeed most often a phase that ends once the dysphoric child goes through puberty (though, as noted above, more research is needed).

One problem here is that many parents are bullied, and even gaslit, by educators, therapists, and doctors who’ve been trained to see mothers and fathers as transphobic if they refuse to immediately affirm their child’s claimed trans status—even when the parents suspect that the dysphoria may well be related to trauma, anxiety, bullying, or other mental-health conditions that need to be addressed more urgently. In one recent case reported in the Washington Post, for instance, the mother of a (currently) nonbinary teen asked a parenting coach:

Every professional has admonished and chastised [us] to not even question my daughter’s decisions as to what she is, but to simply accept whatever she offers to us, even though she has insisted she was four different things over the past few months … Is it possible for a teen to identify as something different every month? How much influence do a teen’s friends have on each other to identify? How do we find a therapist, counsellor or pastor who can gently ask questions while respecting that perhaps a 16-year-old doesn’t know everything?

The parenting coach responded flatly: “Your parenting job isn’t to bring them into line; it is to completely love and accept them for exactly who they are (today, this week, next year, etc.).” In other words: accept and affirm, even under the knowledge that such affirmation may lead the child down the road of irreversible therapies that may or may not align with the child’s emerging self-conception in just a few years (or, in this case, weeks). Of course, loving parents may assume that it is always best to validate children’s sincerely felt feelings. But as psychotherapist Seerut Chawla has noted, while one’s feelings may be “true” in the nominal sense of existing, they aren’t the same as “objective reality.”

As an alternative to unmoored subjectivity, many religious adherents have historically found real wisdom in first letting religious teachings define the reality of our existence, and only then seeking to understand how our feelings can mesh over time with that existence. This traditional approach reflects the belief that a stable, communally shared definition of truth is essential for individuals and society to thrive. By contrast, secular perspectives that focus exclusively on living one’s own truth tend to undermine a shared understanding of reality and societal cohesion, since every person is imagined to be living in a self-defined state of being.

It is strange that so little “affirmation” is provided to those whose “journey” causes them to step back from their transitioned identity—including those detransitioners who’ve cited their faith as one such reason for doing so. Many of those who sanctify the authenticity of all LGBTQ+ identities often treat those who abandon such identities with skepticism and disdain. And if Page someday discovers an “authentic” new reality as a detransitioner, you can bet neither Time nor Oprah will have much interest.

That’s because the unstated rule here is that the act of “coming out” suggests that one should never go back in. In this context, gender ideology actually restricts the options available for many individuals seeking to gradually forge a sense of personal identity, by presenting some “authentic” truths as sacred, and others as heretical.

In closing, we say to any who may adopt any LGBTQ+ identity that we do not fear or hate them, nor do we seek in any way to minimize their humanity. Certainly, we do not wish to “erase their existence,” because their existence as human beings is not at issue. We simply remain unconvinced that adopting new gender identities provides a stable foundation for a durable sense of self. Ultimately, a person’s biological sex will remain constant during his or her entire life, no matter how many times he or she picks new pronouns or alters his or her appearance. And an ideology that teaches people to ignore that truth isn’t a promising means for distressed people to find inner peace or fulfillment—much less anything approaching true “authenticity.”

==

You should probably get used to people not caring about your latest persona.

Gender ideology acts like the things that never stay the same - personality, preferences, beliefs, interests, rebranded as "identity" - are unchanging, permanent and the most important, defining things in the world. While the things that never change - your sex - are temporary and malleable.

[everythingelseisspokenfor]

See, I am never going to defend Prapai for what he did the first night he met Sky. He was being a cheeky bastard but he should have asked for more explicit consent.

Buuuuut. These past few episodes seeing people pounce on Pai like he's a predator just felt wrong to me, and I didn't want to comment until I was sure about what exactly it was that I could see that the others couldn't or vice versa.

I feel like the answer is very simple and something many people in the LITA fandom also kinda addressed. Pai doesn't really know anything about Sky or his past or his demons. Pai has a crush and his life so far, silver spoon and all, has taught him that he will eventually get what he wants.

Also, Pai is sooo much more adept than people give him credit for. After he properly starts pursuing (hate that word) Sky, he starts testing boundaries. He looks for reactions. He understands that Sky's words seldom match his actual feelings. I even think he took that first night into account as well with the "take whatever you want". Pai is not dumb.

This is especially clear with episode 10 out now, because one, Pai now understands that Sky is more than just 'playing hard to get'. He sees that Sky is scared, maybe he's not sure of what exactly but Pai knows. And you see him more careful than ever with what boundaries he crosses.

After their date, he grabs a chair, sits close to him- waits. Moves in a little bit closer- waits. And then tentatively places his head on Sky's shoulder- and waits again. The kiss on the shoulder and then the comment coz a playboy's gotta playboy.

(Side note: as an architecture student i can confirm that we all do use out stuff as more than just a model making material😂. You go Sky! Represent ❤️)

And sky I feel like needs someone who understands more than just his words. Again, don't get me wrong. Verbal consent is EVERYTHING. Your no is a no. But with sky it's not a no that he says. He says (don't mind me paraphrasing) if all you want is sex look somewhere else. It doesn't matter how long you pursue I won't be interested. He doesn't say no don't flirt with me. And though he's not ready to maybe start leaning on Pai fully yet, he is starting to more or less appreciate his presence. The small ways in which it is comforting. He maybe even likes it now (if any of those smiles mean anything).

Pai is sooo careful of the lines that sky draws. He sees those lines and he wants to see how much of it he's allowed to test. He sees those lines and he respects them. No, a promise to a friend('s boyfriend) is not the best reason to not kiss somone unconscious, you just need to be a decent human. But i will go back to saying that the day(s?) He spent taking care of Sky, he understands the reasons for those lines better and he understands why him being a playboy might be a trigger.

In conclusion, is this just me being whipped for fort and hence trying to project a positive light on Pai- maaaybbeee. But do I still think I'm right. Also yes. Very long rant over. Byeeee

[spei-sidus]

Dark Rabbit

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Underage

Usagi is forced to become an agent of the Dark Kingdom. First Season AU.

Keep in mind the age of consent in Japan is now 16 as of 6/16/2023. (There’s also an official Romeo and Juliet law in place now so having sex with 13-15 year olds would only be a crime if the partner is 5 or more years older.) In the manga, Usagi and Mamoru are a little less than three years apart - she starts as an 8th grader and he starts as a 2nd year high school student - 11th grade. 

In this story Usagi is 16 and Mamoru is 19.

It had started like any other day. Usagi had run into Mamoru, was late to school, failed a test, got detention, lingered at the arcade to crush on Motoki (while secretly thinking about Tuxedo Kamen, of course), and got into a shouting match with Mamoru before heading home. Even the battle, occurring at the park in the middle of the night, was routine.

“Standing for love and justice, I am the beautiful sailor-suited Senshi, Sailor Moon! In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”

“Aim for its left side there!” Sailor Mercury shouted.

“Moon Tiara Boomerang!”

The youma disappeared in a cascade of dust. Everyone’s attention was drawn to Zoisite, who was clapping his hands while laughing.

“What are you laughing at?” Sailor Jupiter snarled.

“Maybe he’s cracked,” Sailor Moon offered.

“Not at all, Sailor Moon,” Zoisite chuckled. “Let me show you this!” With a snap of his fingers, three figures encased in Dark Crystal appeared.

“Mama! Papa! Shingo!”

“Yes, Sailor Moon – or should I say, Tsukino Usagi.”

The girls froze. Their greatest fear – their secret being exposed, and loved ones being harmed – had just been realized.

“Let them go,” Sailor Moon pleaded. “They know nothing about this.”

“Their knowledge or lack thereof is no concern of mine,” Zoisite said, “I just really enjoy doing this!” As he lifted his hand, the three Dark Crystals emitted lightning, making their occupants scream.

“Please, stop!” Sailor Moon cried.

“How dare you!” Sailor Jupiter shouted. “Supreme Thunder!”

“Mercury Aqua Mist!”

“Akuryo Taisan!”

The attacks ricocheted off of a dome of Dark Energy that had appeared, which fully surrounded Zoisite and Usagi’s family.

“Stop it!” Sailor Moon demanded.

Zoisite shook his head. “I’ll do no such thing…unless you’re willing to trade.” He looked straight at Sailor Moon. “Drop your henshin, Sailor Moon, and walk toward me. I’ll release them only if you surrender yourself.”

“Not happening!” Sailor Mars growled.

“No?” Zoisite’s hand rose threateningly.

“Okay,” Sailor Moon said quietly.

“No!”

“Moon!”

“He can’t be trusted!”

“What else can we do?” Sailor Moon took a deep breath. “Take care of them, will you?” She stared balefully at Zoisite while grabbing her brooch. The henshin disappeared in a flurry of pink ribbons. Now Usagi, she walked woodenly forward. She hesitated when she reached the wall; however, Zoisite beckoned her forward while a gap in the wall suddenly appeared. After she took a few steps forward the wall closed behind her, trapping her with her enemy, her family only a few feet away. If only she was still henshinned…

“Drop the brooch.” When she hesitated, he continued, “Unless you want your family to suffer more, hmm?”

She hurried to detach her brooch. It hovered in the air before floating over to Zoisite, who gleefully palmed the trinket before it vanished. In a flash he teleported behind her, pulling her into a chokehold with one arm while holding a sharp shard of Dark Crystal to her jaw with the other. The Dark Crystal surrounding Usagi’s family disappeared; they fell to the ground unconscious. A portal appeared behind Zoisite and Usagi. “Sailor Moon is now of the Dark Kingdom,” Zoisite told the seething Senshi. “You won’t stand a chance now! Sayonara.” Zoisite and Usagi disappeared amidst the cries of her fellow Senshi.

[ryansjane]

Okay so I started the Warp Effect a few days ago, I saw it going around on this platform when it was airing but I didn’t start because there was a lot of BL airing that I was watching at that time and to be honest straight-leaning drama (even if I knew there was GL and BL rep) is no longer my thing. However I decided to give a try because I have seen glowing reviews and now I come to you because obviously as I am late with the watching, there are not much people talking about it and there is an aspect of this show that deeply bothered me and I wanted to talk with someone. I found the Alex/jean storyline really upsetting. I thought that Jean and the situation as a whole was extremely, extremely unfair. It might be the biggest form of gaslighting that I probably have ever seen in media.

First of all, I don’t consider that Jean was R-word by Alex that night and that’s a big issue because it shouldn’t be up to debate but clear for the viewers and I have seen multiple viewers debating about it. It’s not that Alex didn’t listen to her when she told him to get off, it’s that he either couldn’t hear what she was saying or understand because immediately after he fell into unconsciousness because he was too drunk and that should have been the focus of this storyline ; I mean it kind of was touched upon but it should have been the theme of their storyline, how drunken sex is not safe and can lead to multiple issue as consent is not being given fully by the TWO PARTIES as they are too drunk.

However for this storyline, Alex was blamed for the pictures being taken of her and going public, he was blamed for being drunk when she was as drunk, he was being blamed for not being there for her when she got pregnant when she never told him, he was blamed for absolutely everything and I don’t think it’s right. I understand what they were trying to do with this storyline but it was poorly made in my opinion and once again seeing the viewers reaction to it because I went to check the comments to get my head around this confirm to me that this was poorly executed as it’s going all over the place : multiple people understood things differently, they saw the storyline differently than others did and for me the education part is losing its meaning if viewers can’t comprehend fully. It just doesn’t give feminist storyline with male accountability that I am sure they wanted to do, it’s giving a woman is the responsibility of a man in every situation because honestly that’s how they made Jean see things, Alex was supposed to be responsable for her in everything and to stop her when he was as drunk when she gave consent. That’s what he is doing in the future but that’s because he already know the situation and was gaslighted to being the sole responsible. And that’s not education for me.

Sorry it got longer than what I wanted to say, I know you probably don’t remember everything as it ended two months ago but I can’t wait to have your opinion on this.

hi, so I've talked many times about the alex/jean storyline kinda ruining the show for me on my blog (I still love the show, but less than what could've been), but I think your ask is very interesting bc it put its finger where I couldn't. I was bothered about alex hurting jean in that way but also couldn't call it r*pe as it's clear in the show he's just way too drunk & didn't hear her, yet this is still a fucked up scene to witness & makes the viewer rightfully uncomfy. imo alex was definitely blamed for everything as a sort of plot device to advance the show, but moreover my issues with the jean/alex storyline was that 1) they ended together despite it all, when it's okay to end up in bad terms, especially for a high school romance, & 2) the entire universe that we saw in the show when they're 30 is rendered useless once alex goes back & changes the past, which felt very empty for me. and yes, while I think the education aspect is very good for the other characters, there's no lesson to be taken from jean & alex. bc the thing is, when you drunkenly violate consent like alex did & give the woman lifelong ptsd like jean had, you don't get to go back in time & make that not happen. you have to live with the consequences of your action and take responsibility, even if you didn't intend for it to happen. so yeah, the warp effect was good & very important for many topics imo, but not the alex/jean storyline.

xxx

[chalkrevelations]

I posted 7,649 times in 2022

That's 2,389 more posts than 2021!

445 posts created (6%)

7,204 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@janedrewfinally

@spiders-hth-is-an-outlier

@fairandfatalasfair

@fleur-aesthetic

@unashamedly-enthusiastic

I tagged 3,498 of my posts in 2022

#kinnporsche - 721 posts

#vegaspete - 623 posts

#pete phongsakorn - 455 posts

#vegas theerapanyakul - 434 posts

#word of honor - 381 posts

#the untamed - 340 posts

#zhou zishu - 248 posts

#wen kexing - 232 posts

#bad buddy - 195 posts

#jiang cheng - 182 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#(and he's likely able to get back on those radial pulses on both sides when he curls his fingers around pete's wrists to kiss his knuckles)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I ...

Listen. I’m rummaging through parts of Ep 11 again. And as someone who has to do wound care on a pretty regular basis and who also has to move people around all the time who aren’t able to move themselves, I am going to tell you that I fully believe, with every fiber of my being, that there was some point when Vegas was trying to get Pete wrapped in that gauze, while he was bandaging those belt lacerations on Pete’s chest, when he had to just stop and sob in frustration at trying to manhandle a completely limp, unconscious body by himself with no help whatsoever and get that fucking gauze wrapped around Pete in any way that was helpful, let alone neat - particularly if he was worried that Pete was maybe dying at the time.

I’m NOT taking any criticism WHATSOEVER on this. I realize this is Vegas Theerapanyakul I’m talking about, but TRUST ME WHEN I TELL YOU. It’s not like he wasn’t already emotionally overwrought after finding Pete hanging unconscious and limp in his chains. He clearly got it out of his system and collected himself and went on, but the parts that we didn’t see? That was absolutely something that happened - Vegas Motherfucking Theerapanyakul crying in frustration and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of fear.

And this was probably with Pete’s unconscious body sprawled out on the bed on his back with Vegas bent over him, forehead pressed into Pete’s sternum and fucking pissed as hell that he has to pause for a break to cry before he can collect himself and get back to it.

(ETA: Little bit of a follow-up here.)

478 notes - Posted September 1, 2022

#4

See, here’s the thing. I don’t really need Vegas to come out of this a better person. I just need him to be willing to murder anyone who’s mean to Pete.

Rabid dog!Vegas on a Pete-leash is a perfectly acceptable character and ship dynamic.

And then maybe - maybe - we can work on getting him some morals in the S2 I’ve been hearing rumors about. Maybe.

535 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

#3

HOW WE FEELING VEGASPETE NATION? Because I don’t know about the rest of y’all, but I personally am feeling like I’ve done AN ENTIRE FUCKING KILO of that cocaine from the warehouse in Ep 7.

So, LISTEN. I can kind of see now why they’ve been so stingy about doling out VP material, because if they did, it would have immediately eclipsed the actual Kinn and Porsche material. If this is the electricity Build and Bible generate on-screen (no pun intended) when Vegas and Pete are at loggerheads, I cannot even imagine what their sex scene is going to be like. I am going to need some supplemental oxygen.

Although, let’s be honest. Pete dominated this scene. Build owns it. I don’t know if Bible consciously stepped back or if Build is actually just this fucking magnetic when they let him off the leash, but I literally couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I kept forgetting to look at Bible – at Bible – because I couldn’t look away from Build and his perfect beautiful feral face. His smile when Vegas accuses Pete of foiling his plan, Pete’s so pleased with himself for outsmarting Vegas. The way he leans forward into what’s happening. And the sheer fucking determination that sets in at 40:00, when Vegas starts sparking his jumper cables at him, the way the smile falls away, but it’s not replaced by fear, OH NO. Wait, let me go dig out a thing I posted during my breakdown of the “consume you” trailer, what was it, oh yeah, when Vegas gets his hand around Pete’s throat: “You think you’ve got the upper hand? Are you sure? Am I reacting like you thought I would? Did you want to see fear? Tough shit, you’re not getting that from me.” AND HERE WE ARE. NO TURNING BACK.

And then Pete’s utter refusal to look away, the way he stares down Vegas from 40:25 to 40:30, I just. I CAN’T. I CANNOT, Y’ALL. I’m fucking feral over this shot, and this is what I’ve been saying since the beginning, for weeks now, and it’s finally happening – you’re gonna lose this one, Vegas, you’re going to lose so completely and utterly and thoroughly, he’s going to get inside your head and inside your skin, and he’s going to crack you open and tear you apart, and then he’s going to stitch you back together, and he’s going to do it all so so so unexpectedly, with his unflinching gaze and his vulnerable wrists and that shroud of grey that he’s got wrapped around him, no villains and no heroes, and it’s going to be the best thing that’s ever happened to you in your miserable life, your entire world is going to be re-made, you’re going to be re-born when you lose this confrontation, the way you’re already losing in this scene, the way he’s dominating what’s going on, naked, defenseless, tied to a post and staring down your paltry little power play.

And Vegas. Oh my god, my dude. You are so angry that it’s making you stupid. It’s like you’ve never met Pete. It’s like he’s never ridden shotgun for you on an op. It’s like he’s never stared you down while you tortured a guy. You’re looking at him, and all you’re seeing is that guy who you freaked out by leaning against his car roof like a working girl offering a BJ, and you’re completely forgetting that Pete is perfectly comfortable with violence. He’d be 100x more freaked out if you tried to kiss him right now, but this? This is the reality he swims in. This is where he fucking shines. Which they’ve actually made literal, because can I also mention how beautifully they filmed this precise shot? The lighting in this scene, the LIGHTING. I don’t have the technical knowledge to know exactly what they’re doing, but they’ve managed the same effect during this staredown that they did with Porsche at the window of Tawan’s room in Ep 9, where it doesn’t even look real, it looks like an anime.

I’m dying, I’m dead, they’ve killed me.

620 notes - Posted June 12, 2022

#2

Submitted:

Pete calling Vegas simply "Vegas," rather than "khun," in front of Korn, Kinn and Porsche when he says "Vegas, don't" in Ep 14 is both an intended parallel to and as significant as Porsche calling Kinn "Ai'Kinn" in front of Big and Ken when they're about to haul him off to the dungeon in Ep 9.

And in both cases, the one who's wanted to keep the relationship secret is the one who ends up speaking the words that give it life outside their particular little sphere of secrecy.

644 notes - Posted July 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Y’ALL. LISTEN.

Pete hands Vegas that rope to bind him in Ep 12 and then offers up his wrists, but here’s the thing, GOD, the thing that is making me feral again, as I go back and re-watch the show: Pete is absolutely perfectly capable of getting out of that rope, no matter Vegas’s intentions. We see this in Ep TWO, when Pete’s right beside Porsche - so we don’t miss him, even before we (technically) know how important Pete is to the narrative - during the training exercise in which they’re supposed to get out of rope bonds (which look a shit-ton like the rope that Pete hands to Vegas later in the safehouse) while underwater in the pool at the main family compound. We hear an entire big lecture just before they’re all shoved into the deep end (lit. and fig.) about how “Just so you all know, if you are captured, taken hostage, you have less than three minutes to untie yourselves. Make the minutes count.” We see Pete prepping himself for maximum bodyguard performance during this little speech, rolling his neck and shoulders to make sure he’s ready. He’s the first one Chan pushes into the pool. Not only does he get out of those ropes almost immediately, even underwater - he’s one of, if not the first person out of his ropes and breaking the surface, as we also watch Porsche struggle at the bottom of the pool - but he manages to position himself to float up, near the water’s surface, as he works to free himself, so that he’s right there at the top of the water to break out, immediately up into the air, once he gets his bonds off. He not only can do this, he’s fucking good at it.

I went back to Ep 12 after that. Vegas initiates what ultimately becomes their sex scene at 27:30 by reaching out, grabbing the front plackets of the shirt Pete’s wearing, and pulling him closer. Three minutes later, at 30:30, Vegas initiates the final kiss of their sex scene, just before he pulls out and rolls off of Pete to lie beside him.

Those three minutes that we get counted, all right, and Pete did NOTHING to untie himself, to extricate himself from this situation he found himself in. This was a deliberate choice he made, not just at the beginning, when he handed Vegas that rope, but consistently, constantly, every single second when he chose to remain bound and to offer himself up for 1) whatever Vegas wanted to do and 2) the intimacy of that encounter. At no point was he able to fall back on, “well, I’ve made my decision and now I’ll have to live with it, what can I do?” Every. single. second. was freely given.

Y’all. I’m chewing glass again.

And then I compare that constant, consistent gift of his consent - in the bonds that he could escape at any time, with nothing but his clever fingers and his trained self-sufficiency - to the handcuff, which he needs a tool for - if not the key, something he can pick it with - and I want to cry again.

(And then I think about those goddam bolt cutters that Vegas left lying around, clearly within reach at every point in time post-pill, and I want to chew glass again. They’re such a beautiful disaster, and I love them so much.)

(ETA: Follow-up post on the gd bolt cutters is located here.)

652 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

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