#but that light wouldn’t be light without darkness to define it. like hot and cold

[daylighteclipsed]

YES BITCH

[sukirichi]

black magic [02]

request. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife) + sukuna’s first time with his wife

cw. slight angst, insecurities, lots of making out, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, sukuna worships reader, spitting, cum eating, teasing! sukuna, face-off kamasutra position, soft dom! sukuna, unedited fic, pwp

song inspo. leave the door open (bruno mars)

note. i want a husband sukuna 

part one | part two

Sukuna gently takes your palm into his, soft and warm lips meeting your bruised knuckles that have seen years of hard work in exorcising curses like him. Uncanny that he showed so much affection to his enemy by nature, treating you with such care and tenderness that shouldn’t have been so possible for an evil creature like him. You’re supposed to love it, be grateful for it, yet his sweet gestures only irritate you, even more so when he retires to bed just like that without even so much sparing a glance your way.

You’ve been married for a year now that you’ve had enough of his confusing gestures towards you. One moment, he was showering you with love, regarding you like you were the light of his life before he’s walking away the next moment and pretending you don’t exist.

He was so infuriating. He would kiss you and hold you, but never touch you or be in the same room with you any longer than an hour. Even in bed, he’s always making sure his back is turned to you, peeling your arms off of him each time you attempt to cuddle him on times it got too cold. It hurts and dwells dangerously at the back of your mind – it would’ve been better if he got angry at you and announced he despised you, but he never did – that his hot and cold nature bothered you more than anything else.

You’ve eventually had enough that you just stopped caring. Barging in during his bath time, your nostrils flare upon seeing your husband so relaxed in the tub. Even after a year of marriage, he’s so unaffected and unaware by your need for him.

He really doesn’t care.

“Little one,” Sukuna blinks as he sits up from the tub, strong arms hanging off the edges of the bed. You admit; he really was beautiful and a desirable man that you couldn’t help it, couldn’t help but crave the one thing you knew you weren’t supposed to have. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you not want me?” you suddenly demand, tears already streaming down your face faster than you would like. Hell, you never wanted to cry in the first place. “Am I not desirable enough for you?”

Sukuna chuckles nervously.

Oh, great, now he’s nervous around you?

“What are you going on about?”

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing,” you snap, “Every time we go to bed, you always put some distance between us and keep to your side of the bed. You push me away when I try to reach for you and you never touch me or kiss me on the lips. I-I understand this marriage was against your will, but I’m still your wife and I need you, okay?” chest tightening uncomfortably, you place a hand over your poor, aching heart that is further crippled when Sukuna’s face falls. “I just feel like...you’re sickened by me, like you cannot stand to be with me in the same room as me. It makes me feel like...it would’ve been better if I wasn’t here.”

You don’t know what kind of response you’re expecting from him after your outburst, but definitely not him standing up to loom over you. You respectfully avert your eyes from the sinful image of water dripping down his defined body, but it’s too late and he’s too close already that you won’t be surprised if he can hear your heartbeat pumping frantically.

He was large and imposing, truly a terrifying sight right before you especially with his tattoos that trail and wrap all around his muscular thighs, yet you’re not nervous because he could hurt you.

Rather, you’re agitated because he’s so close, so within reach that if you step a little closer, you could easily find the warmth you’ve been dreaming of for so long.

You’re frustrated because you want him though you shouldn’t.

Just then, Sukuna caresses your cheek and pulls the both of you back in the tub with you above him, and him lazily grinning above you. You gasp, abashed, that your clothes were soaked to the brim and it stuck close to your damp skin until it took the shape of your silhouette. Sukuna, on the other hand, is completely unbothered as he eyes your pebbled nipples poking through the thin material of your nightgown and simply drags you forward on his thighs.

“S-Sukuna—”

“You really have no idea, do you?” he whispers lowly, his long claws carefully tracing down the sides of your jaw. “My innocent, little lamb...the reason I distance myself from you is because every waking day that you are right beside me, my self-restraint thins, and I’m not sure I can hold back a little longer from you taming me,” Sukuna’s dark eyes brims with something unreadable as he holds your gaze. The look he wears is beyond intense that he takes your breath away, literally, and you’re left gaping at him silently. “I push you away because I want you more than anything else, but I respect you and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You-you want me?”

“Clearly, little one, you’re inherently unaware of how captivating you are,” Sukuna says as if if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you shiver at his words – or from the cold water, you don’t really know. “Stop looking at me like you want me to kiss you. I may not stop once I get a taste of you. Like I said before – I won’t touch you unless you asked.”

You do remember him saying that from your first time together, but your head goes blank, and no words leave your lips even as you mouth nonsense.

Sukuna taps your lips. “Speak, little one. You need to use your big girl words.”

“Kiss me,” you vociferated in one breath, desperately clutching on your thighs. “Please.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to push you away as his eyes narrow into suspicion, but soon he’s tugging at your collar to bring you down for a heated kiss. Sukuna is tugging your robes down until your collarbones are exposed, his tongue and lips leaving yours to leave marks and love bites all over the patch of skin instead. You tug at his hair as you crane your neck to the side, succumbing to the undeniable pleasure his warmth and greediness consumes you with.

Grinding down on his groin, you notice he’s already hard. Hard for you, and this realization makes you kiss him back hungrily as you whimper above him.

Sukuna is feverishly sucking on your tongue and pawing at your breasts the next instant before the spell is immediately broken just as it happened. For before you could reciprocate the same amount of eagerness he kissed you with, Sukuna is already sliding you off of him until you’re on the other side of the tub, left staring at him wordlessly with his lips red and swollen.

“Not today, little one. I think that’s enough.”

You hear your heart shatter into pieces. Pride; it was about the only thing you had, but it seemed even that had been taken away from you.

“You really don’t want me.”

Your voice cracked as your eyes began to tear up.

“No, love, that’s not what I meant,” he groans into his hands, “Believe me, I’d spent enough nights sweaty and frustrated knowing I can’t ravish you and have those lush thighs around me already,” waiting for him to continue, Sukuna sighs and holds you closer, though he could only caress your knee right now that you’re wary of getting hurt again. “This is your first time, okay? I want to make it special for you – you’re not experiencing bliss with me if it happens impulsively with you barging in my bath.”

Something like hope lights up inside you.

“Y-you’ll really do that for me?”

“Tch, brat, don’t go all soft on me now. I wouldn’t suggest testing my patience even further,” he playfully flicks your forehead when you tried to kiss him again, but Sukuna is already tilting his cheek to other side before you could. You would’ve been heartbroken again that he’s refused you, but his words held more than reassurance – and so did his uncomfortably hard cock – that all previous insecurities vanished into thin air.

Sukuna grabs you by the waist to plant your feet on the ground outside the tub, carrying you as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll to him. “Now go and get changed. I’ll fuck you another time.”

“Don’t say it like that!”

“My deepest apologies, little one,” he commented sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, though his smile turned genuinely warm the last minute. “I’ll make love to you when you’re ready.”

He must’ve lied.

You’re annoyed because Sukuna is intentionally avoiding you and acting like you don’t exist. Pissed off, you go into a curse exorcising spree to get the King of Curses out of your mind, reminding yourself that he was vile like them and he didn’t deserve even a second of your time.

Although no matter how hard you tried, your mind still kept racing back to him even as you come back home, bloody and tired when you realize the temple is eerily quiet. Not a living soul could be found around, no servant fretted at your arrival and your husband most definitely did not lurk in the shadows like he usually did. The only sign the temple hadn’t been abandoned yet were the lines of candles trailing down the hall to your shared room with him, and you gasp as you see the petals decorating the bed and rose-scented candles lit everywhere.

Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

But he was felt as he kisses your neck, his hands untying the knots of your yukata. You stiffen in reflex before relaxing as soon you recognize his scent. Behind you, Sukuna pauses, his lips still in the column of your neck.

“You’re upset.” He wasn’t asking; rather observing.

“Not anymore,” you mumble in response, although you weren’t entirely convinced even as you come closer to the bed, your husband trailing behind with his pinky looped to yours. “Did you do all this for me?”

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“I love it, thank you,” you hide your smile for him, not wanting him to see that it’s so easy to alleviate your anger to him. He has to earn your approval again, so you turn to him with a forced scowl and arms crossed against your chest. “But why were you ignoring me for days?”

You intended to look intimidating, but the King of Curses only laughed.

“You look cute when you’re mad. Plus, it made you want me more than you already do, didn’t it?” he chastised, the implications of his words making you pout in humiliation. Sukuna is quick to step closer to you, cupping your cheeks into his hand, and you hated how easily you leaned into his touch. Nevertheless, you turned away from him, using all your energy to muster your most serious ‘I’m not bothered’ face.

“Aw, don’t be shy, it’s written all over your face, little one,” he breathes on the shell of your ear, hands trailing down to lightly drape your clothes below your shoulders. Unable to hold it back, you end up shivering at his featherlike touches.

“It’s okay. I loved hearing your soft whimpers every time you touched yourself in the bath, thinking that I’m probably not around to hear, hm? You forget I sense everything,” his laugh is mocking yet laced with lust, “From the frantic singing of your heart, the way you tense up a little when I’m around, or the way those beautiful legs of yours clench together each time my robe is a little loosened,” Sukuna dips his nose right under your jaw where his tongue darts out to lick a flat stripe down your neck, and just like that, you’re breathlessly clutching on his white robes that are already unfastened. Damned tease.

“Even the smell of your arousal is enticing me to enrapture you right now, little one. I can practically hear the silent begging in that pretty little head of yours.”

You forgot how to breathe.

“B-but I’m dirty, I just finished exorcising curses.”

“Would it be comedic if I said I am aroused at the thought my wife could easily end me right here and now?” shaking your head at him, Sukuna smiles mysteriously. “But you won’t, would you? You need me too much for that,” he leans closer than he already was before, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Tell me, do you want me?”

“Yes,” you whispered breathily, “Please, Sukuna, touch me.”

“It’s my love to you.”

“Not Your Majesty?”

“Hmm, that is delightful to hear as well,” he says, “But let’s our drop our titles. For now, whatever happens between us is intimately between man and wife. Now go clean up, little one. I’ll be waiting for you once you’re ready.”

You waste no time into darting to the bath, scrubbing the blood and dirt on each nook and crevice of your body until you’re squeaky clean. You’re about to head back to bed when you quickly practice puckering your lips to make yourself look desirable, muttering hopefully flirty lines that would make your husband want you more before calling it quits from the embarrassment you caused upon yourself.

By the time you’ve completely dried and moisturized yourself to absolute perfection that you’re confident of yourself, you find Sukuna emptily staring into the ceilings. “Done already? Someone’s eager.”

You roll your eyes at him. Why did you like him again?

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Gladly, little one,” he confides, patting his thighs to encourage you to climb onto him. Now that things were actually getting real and your endless dreams would soon become reality, your palms grow sweaty as you settle yourself onto his lap. “You tell me right away if I’m hurting you, you understand? One word and I’ll stop; though I doubt you’ll be in your right mind to want to stop once I’ve had my way with you.”

You don’t really understand much of what he’s saying anymore.

He’s kissing you so slowly, so passionately and you’re both undressing each other that nothing but desire and lust clouds your thoughts in that moment. You’re drunk on the sweet taste of him, his natural musky scent beyond intoxicating for your mortal self to handle. Too lost in the bliss of finally being intimate with him, you don’t realize Sukuna has already pushed your towel down until it pools at your waists. His sharp intake of breath is the only thing that pulls you back to reality as he greedily takes in each beautiful curve and dip of your body.

His stare is so fervid that you grow shy and cover yourself, where Sukuna quickly grips your wrist as a warning. “No. You do not hide yourself from me.”

“Then stop staring too much.”

“Is it a sin to appreciate divine beauty?” he tilts his head to the side and blinks at you innocently. “You are ethereal, my wife.”

Before you could be too flustered to respond, Sukuna fortunately saves you from the embarrassment by kissing you again, though it doesn’t last long before his mouth is trailing from your collarbone and down to your breasts. You mewl as Sukuna eagerly sucks on one breast, the other showered with attention from his rough, calloused palms. Meanwhile, you push his clothes away to expose his strong shoulders which you use as leverage because his ministrations make you feel like you’re losing control over your own body.

Rolling your hips on his erect cock, Sukuna groans through your skin, squeezing your breast hard enough that you can’t take it anymore right after he tweaks your nipple. “Love, please, I need you right now.”

“Patience, little one,” he reminds, “I need to prepare you well.”

“I’ve been waiting for months, Sukuna, I’m sure I’m more than ready.”

“Emotionally, sure, but physically?” he chuckles darkly, “Little one, do you not understand your nimble fingers cannot compare to my cock? I might hurt you if you’re not stretched out enough.”

“Then stop kissing me and start—” you’re cut off with a gasp, your nails sinking down harder into his skin the moment his fingers began to rub at your pussy. “Y-your claws—”

“I kept them for years, but I had to cut them just for you, little one. What do you have to say about that?”

“Thank you,” you offer with a breathy moan, head falling into his shoulder from the overwhelming yet welcomed intrusion. “Oh, Sukuna, it’s too good, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he bites the shell of your ear and tugs at the lobe, basically biting it between his teeth to distract you from another long and thick digit pushing past your walls. “One more?”

“O-oh!” his thumb has now joined the party by rubbing soothing circles on your clit, effortlessly pulling your lips aside with the rest of his digits to expose your sensitive bundles of nerves for him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on yours the whole time, watching and drinking in the face you make – pleasure written all over your features from the swollen lips, pupils blown wide, and desire pooling in swirls of curiosity and eagerness. It’s a face he never wants to forget; a face he wants to see more of that Sukuna eventually lays you down against the pillows, admiring how unreal you looked in that moment.

Hair splayed all over the pillow, legs spread wide open with his hands caressing your core, and a strong arm gripping his with small gasps accompanied by desperate calls for his name to do more, please you more – your words instantly translate into commands.

“You are so beautiful,” Sukuna praises rather angrily, “Never forget that. Each inch of you, fuck, you are the most dangerous mortal, you know that?”

You don’t have time to react before he’s going down on you and spreads your legs apart, keeping them pinned down to the bed. The stretch hurts but he easily soothes your pain by massaging your inner thighs, crawling down to kiss your ankles, then licking all the way up to your knee where he stops for a second, only to happily be on your sopping cunt the next moment. He’s peppering barely there kisses to your inner thighs just on your outer lips, his breath warm and teasing on your heat.

It feels like he intends to ruin you tonight.

“Sukuna, stop teasing!”

“What do you want me to do, little one?” he grins from between your legs, the vibrations of his chuckles resonating deep within your cunt that sporadically clenches right in front of his face that’s shamelessly imprinting your scent deep into his memory. “How can I make you feel good?”

“You know how!”

“You need to tell me so I know. I can’t read your mind.”

“Your mouth...”

Sukuna’s smile grows wider the longer you struggle to find your words, but exactly how in the world could you say such vulgar things out loud? He is far more patient tonight than any other day, however, that Sukuna props himself to his elbows to peer up at you innocently. “Where do you want my mouth and what should I do with it?”

Swallowing the rest of your pride, you finally utter: “T-taste me...down there.”

“Here?” he prods your clit, pulling a high-pitched gasp from you. Your husband’s smirk is nothing short of condescending just before he finally kisses your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth until you writhe before him. It takes minimal effort for someone of his strength to hold your legs in place, his grip just tight enough to be commanding. The thought of being completely in his mercy made your head spin in circles, your chest heaving up and down from the pleasure he was blessing yet torturing you with. “You’re so responsive, little one. I’m honoured I’m the one who gets to make you feel like this.”

“M-more, please, I need more.”

You expect him to tease you further, but your husband must’ve noticed that you’re too edged and decided to have pity on you. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s wrapping his lips around your pussy, treating it as if it were your own lips that always tasted like honey.

Sukuna is completely immersed in the act of pleasuring you with his tongue only, so much so that he’s silent aside from the little hums he lets out while you moan for him.

Unable to care about being too loud anymore (not that you needed to since Sukuna had made everyone go back home to give you both privacy) you find yourself throwing your head back, legs falling open wider to grant him deeper access to your most sensitive parts. Sukuna continues to massage your inner thighs and even drags the back of your knee to rest on his muscular back littered with battle scars and tattoos, the dark markings on his skin flexing with each movement. His eyes are closed and his nose is grazing against your swollen clit that had reddened already, your pussy lips opening up like a new world he had to explore, and explore he would.

Your hands find solace in his hair the shade of gentle sunsets that were often shared in lazy kisses and subtle touches, nails dragging across his scalp just enough to make your husband hiss right between your legs. Something begins to tighten in your belly as you grind your clit onto his face, too absorbed in the mind-numbing sensation of his tongue now poking against your entrance and the past barrier slowly blooming open to welcome him.

With shaking legs and a chest drenched in sweat, pebbled nipples further stimulated by the cold breeze drifting in from the windows, your eyes snap open as that rope snapped deep within your belly.

Your gaze shoots down below you to watch your husband ardently lapping your juices like a man starved. Now this wasn’t new to you – you’ve heard enough about the King of Curses and his bloodlust. Whispers of his thirst and desire to slay entire towns and even feast on mortals’ souls was enough to keep you at bay when you were still a young sorcerer, for it was already a blatant warning that Sukuna would feed on anything and anyone, that his hunger was quite something that couldn’t be satiated.

But seeing him unhinged and a slave to pleasing you has never felt more erotic that you ride out your orgasm, toes curling and legs trembling every now and then from the aftershocks of your high.

Slowly, Sukuna darts out his tongue one last time just to leave a teasing touch to your clit before he’s crawling right above you again. The ceiling is obscured by his large frame hovering over you, arms trapped between your head and his gallant member poking just between your thighs. You end up shivering under him as your husband regards you – with affection, pride, curiosity – gentle in comparison to his true nature in caressing your cheek, both of you unbothered by the slick that meets your skin.

“Are you okay?” he breathes out, watching your fucked out smile bloom into a felicitous grin.

“Perfect,” you mumble, although rather shyly. You’d seen him naked before, but never hard, and never with the intention that soon you’d truly be connected – in heart, in body, in mind, and in soul. The thought makes your heart skip a beat, your eyelids growing hooded as Sukuna absentmindedly traces patterns on the curve of your hip. “Sukuna...you’re perfect.”

Your husband laughs, the sound of his glee contagious that you’re chuckling with him as well. “Have you seen yourself, little one? I think I fall for you harder each day.”

His sudden confession brings about a silence in the room, but it wasn’t comfortable, and neither was it tense. If anything, it destroys any traces of previous hesitation and pent up anger that’s only been formed in the first place due to the fact he was Curse and you a sorcerer.

The nature of your relationship had been paradoxical to begin with, perhaps even beastly, but nothing was beastly about it now as you wrap an arm around his neck to bring him closer to you. And Sukuna was just that – the man, the Curse, the feared King whose simple mention of his name made mere mortals tremble – the same person that somehow understands your silence better than anyone. No words were needed when he could read your mind and knew his way around your heart a little too much, not once leaving his lips on yours as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you before him. Both of your skins are hot and flushed, yet you’re greedily touching and pulling at one another, his large palms clawing at your ass to pry your pussy lips open while you drag your nails down his chest.

He grunts into your mouth; the sound deep and masculine that it vibrates all the way down to your core. You gasp into his mouth – your breath immediately swallowed by his tongue that dances with yours – once you feel him slip inside.

The stretch is unlike anything you’ve felt before.

You’ve fought and exorcised countless of curses that pain was no stranger to you at this point, but never had you felt so...alien to a sensation both tragic and addicting. Pulling away to breathe air back into your lungs, your forehead knocks with Sukuna until your noses are brushing against the others, mouth hanging open as your walls struggle to accommodate him.

“Oh, oh god,” you mewl above him, eyes wide open as you witness each inch of his cock disappearing from the motion of you swallowing his length whole. He was big; terrifyingly so, and you shake with fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him or that he might rip you apart. “Su-Sukuna—”

“You’re fine,” he reassures by pulling your cheeks back to him, your delicate face trapped between his rough hands. Although his eyes are dark with lust, there’s a tenderness behind them that placates you. “You can tell me to stop if it hurts. Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

There’s no lie or hesitation behind your voice. Sukuna watches your face carefully to detect any sign of discomfort, but you want this, want him, and the pleasure combined with the tolerable sting only makes you desire him even more. The mere fact that there had to be pain and sacrifice, that you had to place your whole trust in him before you could truly succumb to the pleasure and love that created light and hope in this world was enough for you to want to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, and Sukuna wipes away the frown on your face with the pads of his fingers.

He allows you to go at your own pace until you’re completely seated on his cock, the heated member throbbing so hard inside you that you think he’s poking and prodding right deep into a place where you could hold him close the most.

It’s too much and too good that for once, you let your walls crash down as you bury yourself in his shoulder. Sukuna holds you closer by pulling you right into his chest, large arms wrapped around your frame while your breasts tease the rugged and taut muscles of his body. Even the slightest movement of you adjusting yourself on his lap makes his cock graze against your bumpy walls that you’re both moaning left and right. As you struggle to make sense of the sensations bursting within you, Sukuna’s self restraint hangs dangerously by a piece of thread. You can tell by how he’s cupping your ass and lifting your body up effortlessly before he slides you back down on his thick pole, that single, simple gesture repeated over and over again along with him bringing his hips back up to meet your warmth sending a scorching heat all over your body.

“Love, that’s, fuck,” you curse incoherently, and upon hearing a profanity leave your otherwise innocent lips makes something snap inside your husband.

Sukuna is gripping onto your hips for dear life as he bounces you up and down on his cock, tilting his head back just to scrutinize your connected bodies. A thick ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock until it slides down on his veiny cock, sounds of skin slapping against skin and the loud squelching of your pussy even more beautiful than the screams mortals have moments right before their death in his hands. But Sukuna be damned – you felt too good that this might as well have been his death.

“You feel so fucking good,” he praises through gritted teeth, easily manhandling you and throwing you back on the bed where he’s on you in a second. “Look at you, little one, taking my huge cock so well. It’s like you’re made just for me – you want to be with me, don’t you? I would please you, fuck you good every day, yes, fuck!”

Sukuna ended up hitting a spot that equated to uncharted territory, causing you to tighten around him with a sharp cry. “Oh, right there, right there!” you rub your clit for further stimulation, moaning louder when he hoists both your legs on his chest.

He presses your legs and hugs his around his arms, flipping it to the side until your feet are right beside his ears. Sukuna has gone completely feral – his pace and drive animalistic, growling like a predator consuming his prey before he softens, kissing your ankles just as he grips your legs to make them squish together. The sudden lack of space makes your pussy tighter and more sensitive for him that you’re fisting the sheets right beside you, too fucked out to even form a coherent sentence. You’re babbling mindlessly on how good he’s making you feel, completely limp and motionless under him from how deep he’s hitting.

“Please, please, please—” you cry out, reaching out just seconds away from your orgasm with the need to touch him. Sukuna gives in and lets go of your legs until they fall at your side, stretching you out further from when he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss.

He’s caressing your cheeks and swipes a thumb over your tears, quite nearly folding your half. His balls are slapping against your ass the harder he thrusts inside you, but his hips are stuttering and he’s panting right beside your ear that you can tell he’s close. It prompts you to wiggle under him to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and clutching his scalp just to have him impossibly close, because even thinking about letting him go sounds too painful, especially now that he’s claimed you as his just as you’ve marked him yours.

“I worship you,” he blurts out with a few final thrusts that has you crumbling under him in a silent scream, your focus completely on his dark, passionate eyes as you came. Sukuna then laces his fingers through yours while he pumps himself inside you, your walls milking him of everything he’s got. “You are divine, my wife, you have bewitched me for eternity.”

“Sukuna,” you call out weakly, and he’s quick to litter kisses all over your face from your whimpers. “Sukuna-I-I—”

“Shh, I know, I know,” Sukuna places a finger on your lips, letting you calm down from that earth shattering orgasm he just gave you. He pulls his spent dick out a minute later and scoops up your cum that’s spilling out from your pussy lips, his gaze never leaving yours the whole while he sucks his fingers inside his mouth. He’s so dirty and erotic that you’re clenching around nothing once more, but he shakes his head with a low chuckle as if he can sense you want more. Sukuna kisses you just to transfer the cum mixed with spit right onto your tongue, gripping your jaw when your eyes widen at him. “Swallow it, little one. That’s just a taste of what I could give to you.”

You don’t know what pulled you to actually swallow it – it tastes bitter and even a little salty, though it had a bittersweet tinge of scent to it that you don’t mind, especially not when Sukuna just stares at you like you’re most his prized possession.

Sukuna is right by your side the next moment. He’s tamed the next moment, pure comfort and bliss from the way he’s tenderly running his fingers up and down the sides of your body like he’s memorizing the feel of you around him. You both don’t say anything as you place your cheek right above his chest, arms locked on his chest in a desperate cling, but neither does he want you to let go. Sukuna threads his fingers on your hair before you feel his lips caress the crown of your head, mumbling sweet nothings right as you’re welcoming sleep.

Until he taps your breast.

“Little one?”

“Yes?”

“We never had our honeymoon, do we?” he queries, and you twist your head to face him as your brows draw together in thought.

“No, I don’t think we did. I pushed you away from me on our first night together, remember?”

Sukuna’s eyes shone with mischief. “How could I forget? You tried to kill me right after our wedding,” both of you share a laugh at the memory, though there were no more harsh feelings or contempt shared, only love, and love only. Sukuna softens under your gaze as your chuckles tinker down to a giggle, your finger teasingly drawing circles on his chest as you bite your lip. And like always, Sukuna knows you just a little too well. “I know that look. What is it that you want, little one?”

“You.”

“Me?” he repeats with a dark chuckle that sends heat right down to your womanhood. “You already have me, little one, your wish has been granted a long time ago.”

Your face burns. “I mean, I want you. Again. One more.”

“One more?”

“Or maybe a lot more,” you pipe up, but Sukuna’s smirk is growing more and more devious that your former tenacity soon dwindles down into meekness. “O-only if you want to. You must be tired.”

“Little one, I’m the King of Curses, did you really think I would be tired from fucking my sweet little wife?” At his words, Sukuna tilts your chin until you’re left with no choice but to be held captive under his lust. He leans down to teasingly bite your bottom lip, and you’re already breathing hard as you feel his hands begin to trail down to your core that’s more than eager to take him all over again. “Like I said, I worship you, and I’m nothing but a bewitched man who would gladly fuck his wife as long as she asks.”

Safe to say, you couldn’t exorcise curses for quite some time.

[emeren]

Mmm maybe eren walking in on the reader using a vibrator and offering to help her and over stimulating her..

you got it! here it comes :)

red handed - eren jaeger 

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader 

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: smut, 18+, masturbation, overstimulation, crying

notes: this one was fun to write, it was my first time writing about a vibrator so idk if it’s that good but i hope you all enjoy nevertheless! <3

you sighed to yourself, anxiously glancing at the clock. your roommate had informed you he wouldn’t be back until around nine; the numbers 7:30 blinking back at you expectantly. there was no way he’d be home early; eren was late to nearly everything he did. 

deciding to move into a small, crappy apartment with your childhood best friend had seemed like a good idea at the time. you and eren knew each other forwards and backwards; right side up and upside down. 

what you didn’t know was just how needy eren could be. he hated being bored more than anything in the world. he was always lingering, always pestering you to go do something. he would sometimes just walk into your room and stand there, asking you what you were doing and if you wanted to hangout. 

most of the time you didn’t mind. most of the time. but there were instances where the lack of a lock on both your bedroom and bathroom doors became an issue.

instances where the pent up hormones became too much to bear and you had to relieve yourself, quickly and quietly. 

you thanked your lucky stars that eren had decided to go out with some friends tonight. you’d finally be able to enjoy a moment of bliss for the first time in well over two weeks. 

after double checking that the front door was locked and peaking your head into eren’s room to make extra sure he was gone, you skipped to your own space with an air of giddiness. finally some alone time!

you softly closed the door behind you, turning to look at your beside table. pulling the small drawer open and rifling through various pieces of junk, your eyes landed on the small, inconspicuous piece of plastic. 

you’d come to realize that your hand wasn’t quick enough to combat eren’s nosey nature, and after a few near misses, you invested in your very first vibrator. 

it was a light pink color; just nearly longer than your middle finger. you picked it up carefully before plunking down on your hard mattress. you shifted so your back was pressed against the head board, knees slightly bent. 

you could feel yourself aching in anticipation, cold hand slipping past the hem of your pajama pants to press the plastic device against your clit. your thumb moved to click the on button, halting as you heard a floorboard creak from out in the hall. 

“ugh,” you muttered to yourself, trying to quell your paranoia. “eren’s not gonna be home for at least an hour.” 

you paused for a minute longer, ears straining. when you were met with just the distant sound of sirens, you allowed yourself to continue, clicking the button. the soft vibration buzzed against your nerves, breath hitching involuntarily at the sudden pleasure. 

it was a wonderful feeling; your chest heaving as your lower half embraced the foreign object. you leaned your head back against the wall, shifting to a more comfortable position as you bent your knees for better leverage. 

your mind began to wander, an image of eren popping into your brain. a few years ago, you would’ve cringed and banished the thought away, but you’d come to acknowledge there was no denying just how attractive your best friend was, no matter how guilty it made you feel. 

you pictured his muscular back, leaned over the sink as he washed dishes with a pair of black sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. you could feel your face heat, closing your eyes as the pressure within the pit of your stomach began to build. 

it was easy to reach your breaking point with the vibrator; breath growing shallow as the image of eren’s muscular arms and defined v-line started to fog your mind. you exhaled out through your nose, the gentle buzzing making your clit twitch with desired release. 

you were so wrapped up, so distracted. it was the single moment of bliss right before your orgasm, face hot and hands clammy. 

you’d never let your mind wander so far before, but you were beginning to imagine eren touching you; letting his hands wander down your skin and caressing your curves, squeezing and- 

“what’re you doing?” a voice startled you from the moment of peace, replaced by an overwhelming embarrassment as your eyes snapped open, focusing on the tall figure leaning against the open doorframe. 

eren’s arms were crossed, face shadowed as he observed you. you quickly sat up, pulling your vibrator from your pants and clicking it off. the pace of your heartbeat was through the roof, eyes wide and chest tight. how fucking embarrassing! 

“i’m- i was-,” you were at a loss for words, standing from your bed. your heart pinged with annoyance, the embarrassment quickly dissipating into anger. “can’t you learn to fucking knock?”

eren didn’t say anything, quirking a brow at your snippy tone. it just aggravated you more, your brain trying to combat the dopamine that never truly reached its full potential. he stood in your doorway, staring you down as you seethed in your place.

“don’t be embarrassed,” he spoke softly. his face had some unknown expression on it, one you’d never seen before. his pupils were dilated, brows furrowed and gaze serious. “it’s a normal thing to do.” 

you huffed, shifting your legs in an attempt to quell the burning between your thighs. “i know that. what’s not normal is you barging into my room without knocking when you weren’t even supposed to be home for another hour.”

“i got bored, so i decided to come home and hangout with you,” he explained. his lip was curved upwards, as if he were trying to suppress a smirk. “s’more fun here anyway.” 

you frowned at his words, your mind flashing that image of his rough hands trailing down your body, squeezing. you swallowed at the thought, the anger quickly being overpowered by your unfinished arousal. “how long were you standing there?”

“long enough to know you didn’t finish,” he commented, holding eye contact as your eyebrows raised in surprise. you opened your mouth to respond, but eren beat you to it. “c’mon, i think i know you pretty well.” 

“not like that,” you muttered demurely, the dull ache nearly too much to bear. you felt like you’d be antsy till you got off, shifting uncomfortably as your eyes fell to the floor. “could you- could you give me some privacy?” 

eren didn’t respond for a moment, the sound of your bedroom door shutting sending a feeling of relief to your brain. you looked up, frown deepening. 

eren was leaning against the closed door, eyes dark and serious. “let me help you.”

his words sent a confused throb to your cunt, face going slack. was this really happening? 

“eren, you don’t mean…” you breathed out, the ache in your center multiplying tenfold at the sight of his tall and muscular figure staring down at you. shit, shit, shit!

“i do,” he responded seriously, taking a step towards you. he was normally tall and formidable, but in the darkness of your bedroom, he seemed infinite. you paused for a moment, your resolve already thin due to the incessant throbbing of your clit. eren seemed to take notice, eyeing you carefully. “who better than your best friend?” 

you held your breath before responding. you’d been thinking of this, dreaming of this. now here he was, standing before you and looking at you as though you were his for the taking. and it excited you. it excited you to no end. “i- okay.” 

eren was quick to smile, stepping up to you. you craned your neck to look at him, heartbeat erratic as his calloused hands ran down your bare arms. he slowly lowered himself to his knees before you, fingers hooking under the waistband of your pajamas. 

his teal eyes glanced up to you, asking for permission. you were afraid your voice wouldn’t work, instead feverishly nodding your head in acceptance. he pulled your pants down tantalizingly slow; like he was unwrapping some sacred gift. 

you bit your lip as your thighs became exposed, the feeling of eren’s hot breath fanning across the newly exposed skin. he leaned forward, eyes still locked with yours as he placed a kiss to the soft flesh, lips slicked with chapstick. it was sinful and he knew it. 

your cotton pants dropped to the floor, standing in nothing but your underwear and a t-shirt. eren’s gaze grew heavy on your panties - the inevitable wet spot showing just how desperate you were for attention. 

“trying to finish before i got home?” he cooed, curling his lip. you felt your face heat, glancing away. 

“yeah,” you responded bashfully, eren motioning his head towards the bed. 

he breathed out a laugh at your answer, giving your thigh that deeply desired squeeze. “that’s so cute. bet you’re so needy for me now, hm?” 

you could feel yourself growing wetter at his words, choosing to sit on the end of the bed in front of him rather than respond. he kissed your leg again, eyes catching on something beside you. 

“what’s this?” he smirked, reaching to grab your vibrator. you were too slow to react, reaching for it in vain as eren inspected it. “tsk, tsk. sit back down.” 

you hadn’t even realized you’d lifted from the mattress, eren’s dark tone making you abide as though you had no free will. 

he gave you a sadistic look, lunging forward to press his tongue flat against your clothed clit. you hissed at the feeling, hands fisting your bed sheets. eren chuckled against you, the vibration making your stomach burn. 

“just that already has you squirming?” he mumbled, lips pressing a kiss. as if this couldn’t get anymore embarrassing. “’s’hot.” 

you breathed out, the sight of eren between your legs in the lowly lit room entirely too attractive. you weren’t surprised he was so bossy and vocal, hand tapping your leg impatiently. 

“off.” he deadpanned, leaning back to watch you as you stood, yanking your underwear down your legs. you tried to quell your excitement; eren’s pupils growing impossibly larger at the sight of your exposed cunt. you sat back down, breath shaky as eren situated himself in front of you. “so wet already.”

eren, just as he always had been, was impatient. you’d just sat down and he was prying your knees apart, tongue hungrily pressing itself against your center. he was sloppy; eating you out with an animalistic hunger that had you nearing your climax much faster than usual. 

“eren,” you whimpered, the feeling of his tongue circling your entrance causing a moan to ripple from your mouth. the sound of his name only made him suck harder. he wasn’t letting up; absolutely determined to bring you to your high as fast as possible. “m’gonna cum, eren.” 

he groaned at your words, arms hooking around your thighs to hold you in place as he focused intently on your clit. the warm, wet feeling was becoming too much; edges of your vision growing dark as you let your release come crashing down, legs twitching as eren released his suction on you. 

he looked at you just long enough for you to notice the sheen on his chin, the sparkle in his eyes, and the grin on his lips. “been waiting so long for this, i’m gonna make the best of it.” 

your chest was heaving, brows pulled down in confusion as eren brought his first two fingers to your entrance, circling it twice before stuffing you with his long digits. 

you were burning, just having come down from your embarrassingly quick release only to have eren fucking you with his fingers. they easily slid in and out, wet with your sheen as he began to gently suck on your inner thigh. your vision was hazy, eren pushing his digits in to the last knuckle and curling slightly. 

the feeling of another release was building in your core; churning and readying you to succumb to eren’s will once more. and you were ready; a breathy moan leaving your lips as he angled his fingers particularly deep. you laid down, hands subconsciously lifting to grope your own chest - searching for an anchor. 

“shit,” eren swore at the sight of you palming your breasts, squirming in his hold as his fingers pumped in and out of you, quickening his pace. you whimpered in response, screwing your eyes shut. 

you felt the cold object press against your clit before he turned it on; eyes widening in surprise as you shot up. eren was grinning at you, thumb clicking it on as an involuntary cry ripped from your chest. 

the vibration was too much as his digits abused your cunt, stuffing into you as far as possible. your clit twitched aggressively, face and neck hot. your brain was growing fuzzy, thoughts clouded as you stared down at eren, mouth hanging open and eyes glossy. he was watching you seriously, pressing the vibrator harder against your clit in order to make you jolt. 

you were burning, abdomen flexing as your eyes began to water. the sensations were too much, legs trying to close but you were blocked by eren’s broad shoulders. 

you’d never been one to scream, but you couldn’t help the strangled sound that escaped your mouth as eren included his tongue in the overstimulating mix. hot, sticky tears slid down your cheeks, eren’s tongue lapping at the spot where his fingers disappeared inside of you. 

his eye contact. oh, his eye contact. it was pervasive and inspective, analyzing every sound and movement you made. 

he pulled his tongue back for just a moment, the vibrator buzzing intensely against you. “cum for me.” 

and you did. it was too much; your legs jerking and stomach cramping, mind turned to mush at the overflow of dopamine. you collapsed back on the bed, eren leaving the vibrator pressed against your clit for a moment longer, the feeling now more uncomfortable than anything. you waved your hand, too exhausted to beg him to take it off. eren only chuckled, pulling his fingers from you but pressing the object against you harder. 

“let me see those tears,” he said sweetly, tapping your thigh. it was a sinister sweetness, the tears pooling down your face as you began to grown numb below your waist. you forced yourself to sit up, eren smiling as he saw your wet face. “good girl.”

he removed the vibrator, tossing it on the bed as he stood. you laid back down, breathing heavy and legs weak. eren hovered above you, leaning down to wipe your cheeks. 

“next time, just ask for my help,” he sneered, your eyes rolling weakly. he had a boyish grin on his face, something teasing about his nature. “i’m way better than some stupid vibrator, anyway.” 

<3 <3 <3 

[obscureamor]

❝𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭❞ 

❥     sakusa kiyoomi x fem! reader

❥     t/w  |  nsfw, noncon, slapping, degradation

»     a/n  |  initially started out as a thirst, then my brain went ‘slapping.’

You’re too disgusting for somebody like Komori… is what he wants to think, but truth be told Sakusa only wanted you for himself.

You always used to be close with the two cousins, but as time went on Sakusa grew colder towards you, while his feelings grew warmer... you took it the wrong way. He admired you in a messed up sense, admired the way you were so carefree and in the moment, but he hated it. He hated that part about you. In a way, Komori is the glue that holds you all together. You’re just a straggler though. You come and go as you please and Sakusa hates it.

And you can tell…

You can see it in the way he looks at you, the way his eyes analyze your every move. Just waiting, hoping you’d mess something up. When you did something wrong, it gave him a reason to talk to you. He didn’t care that it wasn’t in a positive light, that the memories you’d have of your conversations would only be negative. Sakusa hasn't had a normal conversation with you since you were kids.

He didn't expect you to come back from your trip so soon, so when Komori calls him, frantically telling him he can’t pick you up because the roads are starting to become frosted… he has to pretend it’s no big deal. 

He doesn’t live that far from the train station, but having to walk back home with Sakusa in the dark isn’t anyone’s dream. You have to stay over with the way the snow is visibly picking up and from what Komori told you, he should be able to come and get you by tomorrow. 

You’re bundled in a nice scarf and coat over your outfit. The walk is silent, the only sounds being the occasional ‘hurry up’s from Sakusa and you sniffling. Every breath is visible as you two walk towards his house. The way the snow is getting caught in his hair makes you smile, but you can only wonder how you look at this exact moment. You hope snot isn't dripping down your face. You're shivering but it's such a contrast to the way your body feels hot all over.

-

You can feel the tension in the air as you enter his home. It’s been a while since it’s only been you two. He watches as you take off your shoes, silently judging the way your hands shake or how you keep messing with your shirt.

‘Stop fidgeting,’ he wants to say but bites his tongue.

He takes off his mask watching as you walk to the kitchen to wash your hands. He follows shortly after making sure you did everything right.

“Sakusa?” you question, turning to look at him only to find him already staring. “W-Would you like to stay in the living room or—?”

“The living room.”

It’s nerve-wracking as you follow him and suddenly you can’t remember how to breathe. The hotness you were experiencing earlier has turned into icicles. It's festering, weighing you down, and you can feel your eyes watering even though nothing has happened yet. You're hit with a barrage of worry, goosebumps rising on your skin because suddenly the house feels too cold. When did you start being afraid of Sakusa? You're afraid of him. It’s something you never admitted because who could you admit that too? So when did it start? Was it when his eyes became over-analytical of you? When every word that came out of his mouth had a biting edge to them even though he didn't mean it?

You're taking deep breaths as you reluctantly take a seat on the couch, watching as he leaves to check on something before taking a seat beside you. Your eyes are darting all over the room before they settle on the window. It’s dark out and you can’t see anything with the way the snow is hitting the glass. You can feel his stare on you, so you do what you do best… try and fill the silence.

“How was your day?”

You turn to look at him, staring at him with those stupid eyes, a shaky smile on your lips as you await his answer.

“Good. And yours?”

You inhale a sharp breath. His day was only…  ‘good.’ Well, you don’t know what you were expecting with someone as straightforward as Sakusa. You’re just glad he asked you about yours too.

“Today was… well, um—” your voice trembles as you feel his cold stare on you. “—kinda boring… the train ride wasn’t that long, but nothing interesting happened. I’m sad Komori isn't with us though.”

His hands clench into fists and you’re so dense that you take his silence as a signal to keep going.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Komori and I went to go eat at, like… I don’t know— it was really early.” There’s a chuckle that you try to mask before you continue, “Maybe about 3am…  but! That’s not the point. He ended up getting caught between some fence and I really don’t know how.”

You’re too busy caught in your own world, reminiscing memories of your little adventures with Komori, that you don’t realize the way Sakusa is staring at you. The way his lip is curled into a scowl and his eyes are squinting in disbelief. He never knew that you two hung out alone. As far as Sakusa’s knowledge went, if Komori is there then so is he. When did you two start to see each other without him? Did you act differently when you were around Komori? Was there a whole other side to you Sakusa doesn't know about?

You’re still going.

How can one person talk about another this much?

There’s a yelp that leaves you when Sakusa pushes you to the floor, his body on top of yours. Your head feels like it's pounding as his hand slaps over your mouth. He’s relishing in the way your wide eyes are focused on him and him only.

“I’m so tired of you talking about him.”

He can hear your muffled words behind his palm, eyes frazzled and wide. Your hands are laying limp at your sides. The overwhelming feeling of dread washes over you— the icicles break in half and stab you in your gut.

“I’m better than him in every way, so pay attention to me.”

The way his eyes have no emotion behind them other than pure annoyance scares you. It was a look he gave to strangers when they touched or bumped into him, not a look he gave you. It’s silent as the wind picks up and the beating of your heart could be heard loud in your ears. His hand moves to hold your jaw, forcing your lips to pucker out. Your hands scramble to grab his wrist, pulling and tugging to let go so he squeezes harder making you cry out in pain at the way his nails start to dig into your skin. You don’t expect it when Sakusa spits in your mouth, the defining ‘ptuh’ making everything seem worse. He watches with monotonous fervor as you struggle and shake your head trying anything and everything to not swallow. It’s all futile as he watches his spit mingle with yours before finally, it goes down.

You can feel something tug at your pants before you process what he’s trying to do. He’s pulling them off, fingers then looping into the waistband of your panties before he pulls them down messily, albeit swiftly.

“Omi! ‘op!” you cry out.

The sound of his belt being worked off rings in your ears.

If there was one thing you knew about Sakusa, it’s that he liked to work smoothly and efficiently. He can’t do that with the way your legs are trying to kick at him, with the way your nails are digging into his wrist to let go of your jaw. So when his hand leaves your face you’re relieved, almost crying in relief as you go to soothe the ache, but it’s short-lived when you can hear the sound of his hand meeting your skin. The pop against your cheek and the crackle of the sting.

You finally realize that he wasn’t one of the top three aces for nothing.

“You’re just a stupid whore,” he mutters as he lines himself up with your entrance. “You have no idea how lucky you are for me to even think about fucking you.”

“Kiyoomi, please stop.”

There's anguish in your voice, but the thought is fleeting. It dissipates as if it’s snow after a sunny day. He likes the way his given name sounds coming out of your mouth too much for him to think about how you feel.

You can feel him rubbing himself along your lips and every time his cockhead catches on your entrance a whimper leaves you.

“Saku—”

When his hand meets your cheek for the second time, you feel him swiftly push in, hands settling on your hips. You throw your head back in a silent scream, back arching and chest flush against his. Your cunt is squeezing him and the groan Sakusa lets out echoes within the desolate house.

You sob out and you already know your skin is red, probably welting at the force. He hates the way your nose is leaking snot and how your disgusting tears are dirtying his floors.

“P-Please, stop, Saku—!”

There’s a ringing in your ears as he backhands you.

You don’t know what you’re doing wrong. What’s wrong? You can feel your cheek bruising. Your skin is stinging like the bad sunburn you got when Komori forgot to wake you from your nap at the beach. When your vision finally clears up as you blink away the tears… the look in Sakusa’s eyes scares you. He’s always had an apathetic look to him, but this… his eyes seem as black as the winter's night, and it’s only now that you realize— you’re stuck in a house alone with him until tomorrow.

“Kiyoomi…” you gasp. Your eyes scrunch tight and your shoulders raise as you brace yourself for another impact that doesn’t come. “Omi… I-I don’t— what did I do to you?”

You look so pathetic as you try and understand, but your small brain wouldn’t understand anything as complex as a man’s emotions.

“Omi-chan, please tell me what I did,” you sniffle, trembling hands coming up to grip onto his shoulders.

He’s reminded of when you all were younger at that nickname, reminded of when you would cling to him as you do to Komori now. You can’t save yourself no matter how much you plead and beg for him to stop.

He blinks at you once, twice, before rearing his hips back and slamming into you. There’s a choked out cry that leaves you, hands twisting his shirt as you grip onto him tighter.

“It hurts, Kiyoomi! P-Please stop!”

You’re so dry, but it’s not like it matters. Sakusa relishes in the way your pussy starts to tremble around him as it gets slicked up with every thrust. He wonders how much of a slut you really are and at the thought of Komori being the one to fuck you he slaps you again.

“You’re so dirty it makes me sick.”

His hands are pawing at your tits and it’s only seconds before he gets tired of your shirt being in the way. He shoves the piece of clothing up and you can hear Sakusa ‘tsk’ at your choice in bra color. He starts thrusting into you with such ferocity that makes your tits bounce with every thrust.

“Are you gonna cum like the dirty whore you are?”

You’re shaking your head, but you’re such a fucking liar. The way your stupid hole is drooling around him and clamping down tells him everything he needs to know. His hand leaves your hip, coming to rest on your throat.

“I’m going to cum in you. Komori won’t want a tainted whore.”

“Please no Kiyoomi! Please don’t! Please! I-I—” you’re trying to think of anything, but you only cry harder when your mind comes up blank.

He says nothing as he keeps moving, hand growing tighter around your throat. It’s not enough to choke you, just enough to tell you that he’s in control of the situation— he always has been. Sakusa gives no warnings as his breath hitches and he releases his load into you. He’s still going, not stopping until you cum. It’s just to prove his point that you really are a mindless whore.

There’s an earth-shattering sob that leaves you when you feel his seed flood into you. It’s so overwhelming that you cum, gummy walls riveting him in place as your body trembles. It’s moments later that Sakusa is left staring at you in awe for reasons unknown to him. Your pussy looks so pretty when it’s his cum that’s leaking out of it. He knows you’ve never slept with anyone, knows you’re untainted, but none of that matters now.

You can feel his eyes boring into you as you try and muffle your sobs... they’re as black as the winter’s night— void of emotion but full of plight.

[lovely-ateez]

Just What The Doctor Ordered~

ꕥPosted: 3/14/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Smut

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Wooyoung

ꕥWord Count: ~2.0k

ꕥWarnings: Language, Protected sex (Reader’s on the pill), Public sex (sort of), Praising, Wooyoung has a thing for being called doctor, Dirty talk

ꕥA/N: Please respect your healthcare workers—Doctor Wooyoung hella hot tho 🥵🤚

I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to will my migraine away.

“You know you should probably go see a doctor.” My best friend and coworker, Hongjoong, spoke as he stirred his morning coffee.

“It’s fine. I get them all the time.”

“Yeah and that’s the problem. You shouldn’t.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, “Honestly, I’ve trying to avoid going to the doctor but I think you have a point. I can barely focus on anything anymore.”

“Good. Schedule an appointment as soon as you get the chance. You don’t want to wait any longer.” He walked closer to me and ran a hand along my back, “And let me know how it goes, alright? I worry about you sometimes.”

I let out a small laugh, “Thanks, Joongie. I will.”

-

“Miss y/n.”

I raised my head to meet a young woman in light blue scrubs. She smiled at me, but I could see the tiredness in her eyes. I certainly understood, I’d had many long, long days at work myself.

I hope your day gets better, miss.

“Right this way, please.”

I stood, following her as she lead me into a room and instructed me to sit in one of the chairs.

“The doctor you normally see has been quite busy today, so we’ll have one of our newer doctors see you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah that’s fine.” I pressed a hand to my forehead.

“So could you give me run down of what’s been going on?” She clicked a pen, grabbing a scrap of paper from her pocket.

“Sure, basically I’ve just been having really bad migraines.”

“How severe have they been?”

“I mean they’ve been bad enough that I’ve had trouble concentrating.”

“Anything else troubling you?”

“Nope that’s it.”

She scribbled some notes on a sheet of paper and smiled at me.

“Alright, the doctor will be with you soon.” Were her last words as she exited the room with a sigh.

Knowing it’d likely take awhile, I unlocked my phone to mindlessly scroll through social media, eventually getting bored and playing a game instead.

The door opened and I jumped in my seat, placing my phone aside. The young man that walked into the room smiled, running a hair through his parted black hair.

“Hello, I’m Wooyoung. It’s nice to meet you.”

As ridiculous as it sounded, my breath seemed to leave me all at once. His sunkissed skin was seemingly flawless, the closed-mouth smile that he flashed showing slight dimples on his cheeks, the lab coat and stethoscope around his neck left me to admire his appearance. He was certainly the most fit and attractive doctor, let alone man I’d ever seen.

“Oh you, too.”

He reached out to shake my hand and as we touched I felt sparks shoot through me. His hands were slightly rough but still soft. He released my hand with a kind smile.

“So do you mind telling me what’s going on?” He moved a stool that was in the corner of the room closer to me, sitting on it and slightly spreading his legs, his hands on his knees. I felt my head fogging as I fought myself to not stare at him.

“Well I’ve been having really bad migraines recently. I don’t really know what’s causing them.”

“How long have you been having them?”

“For a few months actually, but they’ve only become really bad within the last couple weeks.”

Wooyoung nodded, “Could they be stress induced, by any chance?”

“I mean...I don’t think so? My job is usually stressful but I haven’t been more stressed than normal.”

“Hmm okay. Have you been experiencing any other symptoms? Nausea, vomiting, sensitivity to light?”

“No, no other symptoms.”

“Could you be pregnant? That can often-”

I laughed, “No, I haven’t had a boyfriend in a quite a while so that’s not it. I’ve been busy with work.”

I could’ve sworn I saw a slight smirk on his face, but it was gone before I could fully register it.

“I certainly understand that. I was able to get through medical school faster than most but I was studying all the time so I’ve never really had time for a girlfriend.”

I nodded, not exactly knowing what to say as I felt happiness bubble up in my stomach knowing that he was single.

“So how often do you normally get them?”

I cocked my head and raised a brow, “Get what?”

He let out a chuckle that released butterflies in my stomach, “I mean your migraines. How often do you get them?”

“Oh.” I felt my cheeks turn pink, “Maybe four times a week.”

“Cute.” Wooyoung muttered under his breath. I was relatively confident he didn’t intend for me to hear it and I blushed even more.

“Well the nurse told me she forgot to take your vitals so...do you mind?”

“Not at all!” I internally slapped myself for sounding far too enthusiastic, but Wooyoung didn’t seem to care, giving a small smile.

“Could you take off your jacket for me, please?”

“Of course.” I said, ridding myself of the thick coat I was wearing, placing it on a nearby chair. He walked towards me—the smell of his cologne intoxicating—and put the eartips of the stethoscope in his ears.

Wooyoung placed the diaphragm of the stethoscope to my back, “Breathe in and out normally for me, please.”

I did as I was told, blocking my mind from the devilishly handsome man right next to me.

After a moment he removed the tool from my back. “I’m going to place the stethoscope on your chest now, okay?”

Wooyoung eyed my sweater which had slightly thicker material in the front, “Is it alright if I put the stethoscope down your shirt? It’ll be hard to hear your heart through your sweater.”

“Oh—yeah that’s okay!” I cleared my throat, “I mean like yeah it’s fine.”

Way to be smooth.

Wooyoung chucked as he reached down the collar of my shirt with the tool, its cold making me shiver. He apologized for the temperature, assuring me it wouldn’t take but a minute.

“That’s odd,” He stated, an eyebrow raised, “Your heart shouldn’t be beating that fast. Do you know why that might be?”

His dark eyes looked into my own and I swallowed. “I...I just...”

“Yes?”

I looked at the floor, unable to say it while looking in his eyes, “It’s you.”

“Me? How’s that?” I saw from the corner of my eye a slight smirk growing on his face.

I looked into his dark eyes, “My heart is racing because you’re so close to me.”

“Tell me, then. Would it beat faster if I got even closer?”

Stethoscope still on my chest, he leaned down, his lips almost touching my own.

The man let out a deep laugh, much deeper than his speaking voice, “I was correct.”

I was barely able to speak when my eyes drifted to his lips, “It’ll beat even faster if you kiss me.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“It is.”

Wooyoung grabbed my cheek with his free hand and pulled me closer, pressing his lips to mine. He didn’t have to tell me that my heart was racing. I could feel it. I could feel my heart rate increasing the longer his lips touched mine. My hands wrapped around his neck, hands running through his thick hair and pulling it slightly. He bit my bottom lip in response and I whimpered into the kiss, pulling him even closer.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”

I pulled his hair a bit harder and he groaned against my lips. As if he just remembered the stethoscope, he broke the kiss to pull it away from my chest, removing it from his ears and tossing it on the nearby table.

I giggled and he smiled at me, placing his hands on either side of the chair I was sitting in. Leaning in closer he teased my lips with his, giving me a slight peck before kissing down my jaw to my neck. I reached for his coat and hurriedly removed it from his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to get him undressed.

Gasping for air I grabbed at his hair once more, desperately needing to hear him groan again and he didn’t disappoint. His hands danced to my sweater, slightly lifting it.

“I hate to say it, because I’m really enjoying this, but you are on the clock.”

“Fuck it.” he growled, “I don’t have any patients scheduled today and I work harder than anyone here. I want this if you do.”

“I really do. Fuck me, Wooyoung.”

Without hesitation he pulled my sweater and bra over my head, leaving kisses all over my chest.

“Help me take off your pants, bunny.”

I whimpered, “Yes doctor.”

“Shit that’s hot.” He leaned in close to my ear, “Say it again. Doctor’s orders.”

“Whatever you say, doctor.” I pulled my pants down and threw them across the room.

Wooyoung’s hands teasingly ran up and down my thighs, making me shiver.

“You’re insanely gorgeous.” He growled into my ear.

I couldn’t come up with a solid response, my desire speaking for me, “It’s your turn, doctor. Off with the shirt.”

He made a dramatic flair of pulling his shirt slowly over his head, my eyes growing hazy while looking at his perfectly defined abs.

“Fuck.”

A cocky look formed on his face as he watched my eyes scan over him, soon after lifting me from the chair to the exam table.

He ran a digit along my clothed clit, prompting my back to arch off the table. I grabbed his arms and pulled him towards me, hips bucking into his, the friction setting my body on fire.

He groaned, head falling back as his body gave into his pleasure. Before long he was pulling down my soaked panties and leveling his face with my core.

“Don’t.” I said through heavy breaths, earning a concerned look from Wooyoung, “I want you in me now.”

His eyes widened, “Shit I don’t have a condom.”

I pulled him closer to me, “I’ve been on the pill for several months don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” The genuine concern in his eyes currently outweighing the lust I could see behind them.

“I promise.”

The lust returned to his eyes and I couldn’t help but feel small under his gaze. The rest of his clothes were discarded in a hurry, his member then lining up with my core.

“Let me know if you’re uncomfortable or want me to stop, okay?”

His consideration made me smile, knowing full damn well I wouldn’t want him to stop. “I will. You too.”

Wooyoung let out a short chuckle and entered me slowly. I felt my eyes close as I focused on the feeling of him inside me, feeling out of breath already. I moaned as he pulled out slightly and rammed his hips back into mine.

“You like this?” He growled, “Knowing that anyone could catch us?”

I nodded, letting out quiet whimpers as I gasped for air. His speed was quick and hard, hitting every spot inside me my fingers could never reach.

“What a dirty girl you are.”

My walls clenched around him as tears welled in my eyes from the stimulation, my moans gradually getting louder without my control.

He leaned closer to me, “Quiet, sweetheart. Can’t let everyone here know what we’re up to, can we?”

I whimpered as he picked up speed and I forced my eyes open, needing nothing more than to see him. His pupils were dilated, his face flushed, and his hair was sporadically sticking to his forehead. He looked godly.

“You look so beautiful under me, taking me so well,” He said through half-lidded eyes, “How are you feeling, love?”

I whined at the pet name and clenched around him. He groaned and I brought myself to speak, “I feel f-full, doctor.”

Wooyoung nuzzed my neck, placing a few kisses upon my skin, and I felt my high approaching.

“Touch me, please.” I pleaded.

He complied, teasingly running his fingers along my clit and I felt sparks of pleasure shoot through me.

“Are you gonna cum, baby girl? Be my good girl and cum for me.”

I bit my lip to keep from moaning loudly as I came, feeling Wooyoung release at the same time. He stilled, watching me catch my breath as he did the same.

“Pretty sure I just broke several medical moral codes but damn I don’t regret a minute of that.”

I hid my face in his chest, face heating up, “Me either.”

He pulled out of me and I pouted at the loss of feeling him.

“We just had sex and you’re still needy?”

“Listen, you just feel good inside of me.”

He leaned over me a gave me a long, sweet kiss, “You feel pretty good around me, yourself.”

Wooyoung pulled back and reached for his boxers, putting them on before grabbing some paper towels and cleaning me up. “Get dressed, doll.”

I nodded and slowly slipped my clothes on, legs feeling wobbly. He noticed and smiled at me, fully dressed now.

“Well,” He started, “I think we should exchange numbers in case you experience more migraines. We’ll have to monitor that, of course.” His eyes twinkled.

“Ah yes, of course.” I giggled, handing over my phone.

I watched his fingers glide over the keyboard, my eyes once more trailing down his chest, unable to forget how good he looked shirtless.

Without looking up he spoke, his voice lighthearted, “I can see you, you know.”

“No you can’t.” I teased.

He laughed and handed over his phone for me to do the same. “I can write you a prescription if you feel like that’s something you need. Have you tried over the counter medicine?”

I chuckled and he gave me a questioning look. “It’s just that the conversation took a different direction than I was expecting. But no, I haven’t.”

Wooyoung nodded, “I would recommend that you start with Ibuprofen and if that doesn’t work, let me know and we can prescribe you a stronger medicine, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

A silence fell over us. Noticing my nervousness, Wooyoung pulled me into his arms, placing a kiss on my lips, “I need to go, but I’ll call you, okay?”

I gave a shy nod and bit my lip.

“Do you like coffee by any chance?” He questioned as he ran a hand through my hair. I welcomed his touch, leaning closer to him.

“Love it, why?”

“I say we meet up at a coffee shop soon. I’ve got a particular one in mind and I think you’ll really like it.”

I smiled, beyond happy to know he wanted to see me again, “Works for me.”

-

“So it went pretty well, I think.”

“Good, have you been feeling better?” Hongjoong asked later in the week.

“Much.” I bit my lip, looking down, “I’ve got a date later today.”

“What? With who?” Hongjoong asked with a smile, genuinely happy for me.

“Um...the doctor I saw earlier this week.” I scratched the back of my head.

“Oh my god you do not.”

“I do. I really like him.” I confessed, “We’ve been texting a lot.”

“Damn.” He shook his head, “That’s definitely a surprise but I’m happy for you girl. You know, why don’t you head out early? Our shifts are almost over anyways and I can finish up anything you’ve still got to do.”

“No I can’t ask you to do that!”

“I insist. Go ahead.” Hongjoong all but pushed me out of the office, sending me on my way and wishing me luck.

I waved back at him, thanking him again before leaving the building. I hopped in my car and drove off, feeling happiness bubble in my chest.

I took a step into the cute coffee shop, looking around at the full tables before locking eyes with Wooyoung. His eyes sparkled with the same playful look as I remembered. I walked over to where he was sitting and took the chair across from him.

“Hey,” He smiled wide.

“Hey yourself.”

“Are you gonna order anything?”

“Maybe in a bit. I wanna spend time with the handsome man in front of me first.”

A slight red dusted his ears as he tried to laugh away his shyness. “How’ve your migraines been?”

“Honestly, I haven’t had any since I saw you last.”

He cocked his head. “Wonder what could’ve fixed that?”

I bit my lip, meeting his eyes, “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“Incredible. This is a medical breakthrough. I can just imagine the medical articles.” Wooyoung raised a hand, moving it in the air as he spoke, “Sex cures chronic migraines, experiments suggest.”

I laughed, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

“What? Am I wrong?” He said with a mischievous smile.

I quirked a brow, “I think we should probably conduct more experiments though, right? In the name of science.”

He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “You make a compelling argument. I think I have to agree. My place after this?”

“Absolutely.”

-

Final Note: Listen I know Wooyoung probably should have actually prescribed y/n something for her migraines but it’s to further the plot okay please understand—

[army-author]

(fic alert) all this stigma

➝ COMING 26/03/2021 18:00 GMT

➝ summary: your relationship with taehyung was supposed to stay strictly casual. yet, when you find yourself pregnant with his child, the walls you built up come crashing down around you. kim taehyung’s affluent family are strict and traditional, willing to do anything to cover up the indiscretions of their son, even if it means forcing him into marriage...

➝ pairing: heir taehyung x female reader

➝ genre: heavy angst, arranged marriage au

➝ warnings: profanity; lots of talk about losing virginity

[PREVIEW BELOW]

[Six years ago]

Your eyes are caught on Taehyung.

In Anise’s dorm room, with the scent of alcohol heavy in the air, all you can focus on is the man standing across from you. Anise had invited him over in the hopes of introducing you to some more people. As she said - “You need to put yourself out there more!”

You knew she was right. You’d spent the first term crammed in your dorm, studying, barely talking with anyone. In the middle of a corridor of dormitories, surrounded by hundreds of other students, you had felt inexplicably lonely. Part of your reasoning for becoming a hermit in your dorm room were the warnings you had received before you left for university. Your school had been very religious, shoving morals down your throat as you got ready to venture out into the real world. The world will try to corrupt you. They’ll try to entice you. Do not let yourself fall into temptation.

You were certainly slipping into temptation now as you looked at Taehyung. A unique curiosity pierced your heart as you watched him from across the room. Perhaps it was the spark in his black eyes that intrigued you. Perhaps it was the cut of his jaw. Perhaps it was the defined collar bone that suggested itself just above the white of his t-shirt. Whatever it was – it had clutched at your stomach with iron teeth as soon as he walked into the room.

Your mother had also warned you of the dangers of the world when you left home. “Some boys will try to entice you,” she had said. She was keen on the idea of remaining virtuous and pure – repeating all the ideas you had heard regurgitated at school assembly each week.

Perhaps that was why, after all this time, you were so desperate to go against her guidance.

Anise had decided that it was her mission to help you lose your virginity, and had taken it upon herself to introduce you to all her male friends.

You are all too happy to let her guide you through the murky uncertainty of hook-ups. Being so inexperienced yourself, you need all the help you can get.

But now, faced with the prospect of Taehyung, stood a couple of feet away from you, the idea of going over and striking up a conversation with him terrifies you. Everything about him radiates a confident sensuality. On top of that, you had heard rumours that his family was extremely wealthy – a far cry from your rural upbringing.

Gripping the ice cold beer bottle that Anise pushed into your hand earlier, you take a swig, hoping for a boost of confidence. With a deep breath, you walk over to Taehyung. “Hi,” you say by way of introduction. Not the most unique start to a conversation.

He turns his gaze to you, and up close, you are struck by how devastating his stare can be – dark eyes swirling with a galaxy of golden speckles, radiating light as he offers you a smile. “Hello. You’re Anise’s friend, right?”

You nod, “Yep. That’s me.”

His smile widens. With that smile, you begin to loosen up, slightly less intimidated at the prospect of speaking with such a beautiful man. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says, “I’m Taehyung.”

“I know,” you say, “Anise speaks about you a lot.” As soon as these words leave your lips, your cheeks heat with a desperate blush.

“Oh yeah?” Taehyung raises his eyebrows. There’s a smile in his voice, “What does she speak about?”

You swallow. You’ve backed yourself into a corner now. Despite all the advice Anise had tried to give, you were still your own awkward self, completely innocent to the secret art of flirting. Taking another sip of beer to soften the blow of your next words, you resign yourself to the truth. “Anise has decided that she needs to help me loose my virginity, so… she’s introducing me to all her male friends.” You can feel that your cheeks are hot with a flush, eyes stinging with embarrassment, “I… don’t know why I told you that...”

Taehyung simply laughs, “So that’s her deal, huh? I’m just some meat for you to hop on?” He quirks you a smile with raised brows; his heated gaze is enough to melt you down to a puddle.

“No, I didn’t mean...” you stammer.

“Relax,” he gives you a light tap on the arm, “I’m kidding.”

“Oh,” you swallow, the aftertaste of beer suddenly turning bitter. You get the sense you’ve fucked up any chance you had of establishing a relationship with Taehyung. Humiliated, you take another swig from your beer bottle.

“So,” Taehyung says, “You actually planning on losing your virginity tonight?”

You almost choke. Gasping for air, you wipe beer from your lips, “Excuse me?”

He laughs, “God, your face is hilarious!”

You stammer, as your cheeks only get hotter, “I wasn’t expecting you to… I mean… I didn’t think...”

His dark eyes watch carefully. The spark in those swimming irises still intrigues you, yanking you back against your better judgement.

“Did Anise decide that you needed to loose your virginity, or was that your decision?” Taehyung asks.

You shrug, “I think it’s a bit of both. I mean... I wouldn’t mind losing it. I hate the label sticking to me. I’m not a prude or anything. I guess a part of me feels like I’m missing out on something. I see all those sex scenes in TV and movies, and it feels as plausible as a scene about magic or aliens. It’s just so far removed from anything I’ve experienced.” You laugh at yourself, “I’m just rambling now. God, I’m so embarrassing!”

Taehyung takes another sip of his beer, “No, it’s not embarrassing. I felt the same way before I lost my virginity. Before, I just couldn’t stop thinking about sex, and when I finally did it, it was like: “Oh. So that’s it, huh?” And then I just got on with my life without it ruling over me. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It felt really nice. But experiencing it for myself I realised that it’s not as big a deal as people would have you think.”

You nod, silent. You can barely believe you’re even having this conversation. Held in Taehyung’s gaze, the whole encounter feels like it’s happening in a dream. Maybe it’s just the alcohol getting to your head.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Anise comes back, phone in hand, saying, “We should take a photo!” You’re jostled around, sandwiched between friends. You loose track of Taehyung, as Yoongi, another of Anise’s friends, ends up squished next to you, with Anise on your other side. Smiling at the camera, which is held by a boy you don’t recognise, there’s a flash. The memory is preserved forever.

[holding-hands-and-hearts]

Remembering Omega

She only pieced together her childhood - or what passed for one - later.

Children didn’t remember things. Children rarely remembered places, either, or features, their minds twisting objects and beings until the tops of their heads touched the sky and their eyes glowed down like yellow lamps, unblinking and uncaring.

But children did remember feelings.

Her first memory is of cold. Darkness. They combined into something tangible, something pressing and present and absent. She remembers how it had sunk into her bones and made something in her chest sharp and stabbing. She remembers that it felt empty. Empty of something she couldn’t really understand, and though she had no reason to think that this wasn’t normal, it felt out of place all the same.

Her second memory is of absence. It was the first time she was able to recognize anguish, tearing at her throat and constricting her airway, and panic, and pain. She wasn’t cold anymore because she was so hot, her blood galloping through her veins and boiling, salty, liquid something dripped down her cheeks and seared her eyes. She remembers a wild need for something, for someone, a hand to cover hers or arms to bundle her up in or even just a voice, and it wouldn’t matter what the voice said so long as she could recognize that maybe there was someone there, and maybe she wasn’t the only one here. She remembers her skin prickling, prickling, prickling, because she’s cold again and there’s some primordial, primal demand for another living being to touch her.

Her third memory is of distance. She was used to the watchful one by now, used to the way it moved and how its features never betrayed any of its thoughts, a mask that she was too inexperienced to see through. But even when the watchful one watched her, even when it spoke, told her to stay still, she never felt seen. When the respected one and the one in the middle, the one who visited, came to see the watchful one and seemed so urgent about when, they looked at her like a puzzle, like an anomaly, like something that wasn’t supposed to be here. She knew they talked about her, but not one of them ever turned and bent their elegant bodies down to her, looked in her eyes and said some kind of something that made a piece fall into place that she was….something. Alive. Okay. She didn’t know the word loved until later, and for her it was defined as the opposite of how unreachable the watchful one’s eyes were.

Her fourth memory is of lost, and of the moments when lost seemed not quite. The world had gotten bigger, like it had simply blinked into existence, and the watchful one had opened the door and sent her away in the care of a strange floaty thing, with shiny limbs and a shiny voice that wobbled with panic whenever she took a step the wrong way. She remembered how bright the lights were, a glowing, constant white that bordered on iridescence and hurt when she looked at them too long. They stabbed somewhere within her skull like an afterthought, a silent kind of pain that didn’t yield until she learned to avert her eyes and keep her head down. She remembered how noisy it had seemed, how her footsteps faded into the endless white hallways. To someone who’s only ever heard silence, even hush is loud.

She remembered her first face, other than the watchful one and the respected one and the one who visited, and how warm its colors had seemed against the stark white corridors. It was tall, but compact, and sturdy, its eyes were confused, but it seemed like asylum when it scooped her up. Its arms were solid and warm and it cradled her head against its chest while it moved, and it clicked something into place. It wasn’t love, but it was something that set a few seconds aside to care, and the warmth in its concern wrapped around her like a blanket and made everything seem okay.

She remembered her second face, and this one was older, its back beginning to stoop and lines sinking into its face like stories untold, and its mouth curved when it looked at her. It knelt down and held her hand and asked her questions she didn’t understand, but it was kindness, and that was new too. She remembered the windows, when the endless white had found an end, and she remembered the cool of glass. She remembered the rain, and that the seal on the window must have been faulty. The kind one had put a work-gnarled hand on her shoulder and let her reach out to drag the ends of her tiny fingertips across the condensation, leaving trails that said I am here. It was the only here that had ever stopped to acknowledge her, the only thing that changed when she moved, like she was worth paying attention to.

Most of all, she remembered her third face, her fourth, her fifth, her sixth, glowing as tiny little lights back in the watchful one’s dark. The others started asking about it, started coming through the door from the world and pointing at the four little lights and saying when. She remembered learning that when got smaller slowly, and the respected one was never happy about it. The one who visited came to say would, and to say this, and to both of them the watchful one’s reply was always will. But every time the respected one came to say when, the four little lights would get a little bit bigger, until she could find herself in their tiny faces and tiny fingers and hope that their four little lights would make the dark a little less.

For now, the four little lights floated oblivious, asleep, maybe, and maybe when they woke up they’d get to stay. For now, they were together, and she remembered something calm settle in her core like how the waves stilled when the rain stopped. The kind one had picked her up and called it the ocean, before the watchful one could see them. He’d pointed, showing her how the funny flying creatures brought their littles to play between the pylons that held the city above the water.

At the end of the when, the four little lights turned off. One of them was bigger than the others, and one of them had a thick thatch of shadow-dark on his head that the watchful one didn’t seem to understand. One of them had a sharper face, carved out of focused intensity, and the smallest one curled in on himself like he was trying to shut out the world. The watchful one gave them numbers, nine-nine, nine-nine, nine-nine, nine-nine, like they were always meant to be together, and something clawed at her stomach when she realized that no one had ever given her one.

Instead, the shiny one zoomed up with its shiny limbs and its shiny voice, intent on a somewhere, and she didn’t want to go, didn’t want to take her eyes off of the four little nine-nines, afraid that they would disappear as simply and finally as a mirage if she looked away.

She only pieced together her childhood - or what passed for one - later.

It took time for her to understand her scraps of memory and feeling, lost without concept or context. She didn’t realize there was a cavernous, empty space she was lost in until she wasn’t anymore, like the way the vents were always loudest in the seconds after they’d just turned off. How do you place isolation, when you’ve been alone your whole life? How do you understand love, when all you’ve ever found is apathy?

She remembered alone, because she never had someone else to be alone with.

She remembered wrong, everything wrong, because there had never been anyone to tell her that she was right.

Now, everyone had a name. She recognized the watchful one, the respected one, the one who visited, and the kind one and the shiny one, who always blurted it in her ear with his shiny voice. For a while, she didn’t understand the identification in these strings of syllables, how they could mean everything, how you would be recognized and explained in a breath. Nala Se, Lama Su, Taun We, Ninety-nine, AZI-345211896246498721347.

She didn’t have a name, because what was there to define her?

She was the last.

Nala Se called her Omega.

*******

eeeeek so I opened Tumblr this morning to a giant pile of notifications and FREAKED OUT. Stupid sloppy grin, excited lil bouncing, all of it. Thank y’all so much for making my day, and probably my week too (by the way, @isaakandreyevs, you’re incredible and I love you).

Anyway, TBB today! I confess I don’t write with them as much as I should, but I got stuck on Omega’s childhood memories. I have discovered that it is REALLY HARD. Like, it’s not supposed to make sense to her, but it has to make sense to you, and my brain is so twisted up right now it should be in Cirque du Soleil.

Let me know what you want to see next! I’m thinking my best boys in the 501st, but suggestions would be more than welcome.

[savagesbonergarage]

Are you looking for prompts? 👀 Can I offer you predator/prey kink with Maul (or Savage?) I’ll just... leave this here...

Oh?

I know that @fallenrepublick has already written an excellent Maul one here, but Savage...I can't say I've seen one with the big boye anywhere yet (though correct me if I'm wrong)...

Guess that's my duty now...oh no...😏

A/N: Smuuuuuuuut, it's kinda long, wilderness survival, taking a leak (like just peeing outdoors in general, if that makes you uncomfortable you can skip it), maybe a pee kink though?? Is it a pee kink if there's no real indication of it being one? Someone will have to let me know lol, general roughness, rough sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, aftercare

Savage

"Instinct"

The wind rustled softly through the trees, the scent of fresh mountain air and the the temporary security of your height advantage almost offering you a moment of respite. You had stationed yourself near the top of an adequately concealed tree, it's sturdy branches sufficient enough to keep you up and away from immanent danger for the time being.

You were feeling quite pleased with yourself, if you were being honest. It had been a few days that you had managed to avoid his pursuit, a milestone you weren't quite sure you'd ever be able to achieve, and yet here you were. The few wilderness survival tips that you had learned in your youth inevitably seemed to pay off, as you remained cognizant of as much as you could regarding yourself and your environment that could potentially alert a predator. Rarely did you ever touch the ground of the forest floor, opting to remain high up in the forgiving trees that allowed for your nimbleness to be used as an advantage. You moved slowly, always making sure that your sounds blended together alongside the other calls of nature that wouldn't give way to your position, and you always shifted with the winds to ensure that the breeze never dispersed your scent around.

Savage was certainly the epitome of a predator, and an enhanced one at that - however, you'd studied him enough to understand the drawbacks that came with his awesome power. By his very nature, stealth wasn't his defining trait. At all. Were he to get anywhere within your field of vision, you would know about it without a doubt by the flocks of birds that scrambled to the skies in the distance or the cracking of branches coupled with his screams of frustration that filled the open air. You had to admit, you almost found it cute how you were finally getting the upper hand on him for once.

Although, this only meant that when or if he did catch you, you'd be shown no mercy.

It seemed your tactics this time around were working rather well though, and you considered that perhaps after one more day of survival that you'd approach him and declare yourself the victor in this dangerous game. Oh, the humiliation he would feel from his failure...the mighty Savage Opress, unable to hunt down the creature he craved for the first time. It probably irked him terribly that you were remaining relatively stagnant within the treetops as opposed to frantically running about like a frightened animal, which was likely a large factor in the enjoyment of it for him - the thrill of the chase.

Normally, you might have indulged him a bit more and better acted the part that he desired you to play, but this time, oh, this time, you were determined. Back home, he'd jokingly let slip that if you were ever to evade him long enough, he'd don a fluffy tunic and ears and call himself an ewok. That right there was all the motivation you'd ever need - nothing was going to come between you and getting to see what would inarguably be the most hilarious sight in the galaxy.

Dusk was fast approaching, and although there was still no sign of the beast that was hunting you, it was detrimental that you carefully selected a sturdy tree with tall, wide branches that you could conceal with the surrounding foliage nearby while you slept leaning against it. It was hardly comfortable and you could only rest for maybe a few hours at a time, but it was certainly safer than sleeping on the ground. You gathered your necessities and carefully arranged yourself against a wide branch and drifted off.

It wasn't long before the chill of the night air roused you from sleep. You had to admit, the worst part out of all of this was how damn cold it was being exposed to the wind in inadequate layers for these temperatures. You quietly shuffled around in an attempt to get comfortable, but in doing so you realized an uncomfortable truth.

Damn. I have to pee.

This was gonna be tricky. Finding a place to do so safely was half the battle, since you'd be making yourself completely vulnerable for a short while and if Savage happened to be somewhere nearby, no matter how quiet you were, he'd likely be able to smell you. A slightly gross fact, but an important one. He was a predator, after all. You'd managed to get by this far, and you had been avoiding drinking water for this very reason - also, because he would likely wait near the water for you to show up to inevitably drink.

Being tired, dehydrated, cold and full of pee wasn't ideal, and you couldn't wait for the morning to get here so this game could finally end. You were even starting to wonder if this was really going to be worth it once it was over. Sure, watching Savage embarrass himself was always an entertaining prospect, but right now, you just wanted to be held against him and his warmth even more. You sighed. Only a few more hours, and then you could gloat in his face for a second before snuggling up to his blissfully comfortable frame.

But for now, you still had to pee. You debated over whether or not you could potentially hold it until morning, but the answer to that was a resounding negative. It would be fine. You'd survived every other time, and you'd survive this time. Tentatively, you carefully and quietly lowered yourself to the ground, cursing the night for being so dark. Ideally, you'd want to find a place far enough away from here to go so that you wouldn't be literally marking your territory - but you didn't have any light, or Savage's reflective night sight, and you didn't have his other senses that absolutely trumped your own.

For the first time, the fear was finally starting to creep over you. It was times like this that you got so deep in your own head that you started to forget that this was really all just a game, and not an actual quest for survival; but that's how Savage liked it. You scoffed under your breath when you realized this, resolving to unbuckle your pants and simply relieve yourself right where you were. If Savage did happen to come through here, it was likely that he would assume you followed your usual thought process of maintaining distance from where you actually were rather than look up that very tree. That's how you had been operating so far; besides, there were only a few hours left. What were the chances of-

You heard a faint rustle of leaves somewhere behind you, and the panic started to settle in. That could have been anything, you told yourself as you attempted to calm down your anxiety. You couldn't really do much about it right now, since, well, you were already going. If you tried to push it faster that would only make it louder, and if you tried to scurry back up the tree in the middle of it, it would get everywhere and act as a billboard to your location. You sighed quietly, counting down the seconds until it was done in an attempt to quiet your racing heart.

You had that sinking feeling that you weren't alone. Your eyes darted around only to find that you truly couldn't see a thing, and you determined that the best course of action now was to just calmly finish up and quietly scale back up the tree.

You had just gotten your pants back over your hips when an animalistic growl erupted from behind you, and just like that, it was over. Savage had you pinned between his muscular, gargantuan form and the trunk of the tree, your arms bound to your sides in the grip of his massive hands. There was no way in hell you'd be able to wriggle free, and the adrenaline coursing through you in being captured was making you tremble. You could feel the heavy beating of his twin hearts against your back and his hot breath against your neck, and with a growl he pressed his hips against you until you could clearly feel the outline of his massive, throbbing cock against the small of your back.

"I got you. You're mine."

There was a frightening agitation in his bellowing voice that shook you, and the feeling was only worsened when you heard the scrape of one of his long horns against the bark of the tree as he brought his mouth closer to your ear.

"You think you can get away with hiding from me...? Keeping me hunting you for so long, and then teasing me like that..."

You were breathless, unable to utter a reply even if you'd had one ready before one of his powerful hands yanked your pants back down to your ankles. His claws left mild scrapes against your thigh, a concern that he was usually more cautious of, but not this time. It was clear that he was going to punish you for making him wait so long. You could barely squeak out his name when you felt his teeth rip into the layers of fabric covering your torso. With the aid of his claws he tore the garments from your body, spitting the cloth from his mouth as he revelled in the satisfaction of "skinning" you. You shivered, the heat from the zabrak's body the only thing keeping you warm now.

He flipped you so that you were facing him, the harshness of the tree bark against your bare skin making you wince as you watched him pull his monster dick out from the prison of his pants. No matter how many times you witnessed that reveal, your reaction was always the same. You looked into his glowing golden eyes, a predatory hunger there that sent both fear and heat straight through to your core. You swallowed drily, gazing into his face with a submissive look of defeat as he continued pinning you by your shoulders.

"You got me," you breathed, "I'm yours."

That did it for him. Without another word, he palmed the meat of your thighs and hoisted your legs up to hold you in place as your back rested against the rough tree, causing you to hitch your breath as Savage hungrily lined himself up with your entrance, the sheer amount of precum he leaked serving as lube before he pushed his hips forward. It was a little more forced than usual, and on top of that it had been a while since the last time you'd taken him, with your walls struggling to adjust to the stretch in order to accommodate his size. Your jaw was hanging open and your head immediately rolled back as you felt more and more full with each thrust, Savage gripping your thighs harder and exhaling a groan when he finally bottomed out.

There was a brief moment of hesitation, a pause for a reality-check as Savage lightly tapped his fingers against you. It was a subtle way of asking for permission, acknowledging that although this was your "punishment" and his reward, he still needed to know that you really wanted it like this, and that you were okay. Your response was an affirmation in the form of a squeeze on his forearm and a slight roll of your hips, with the look in your eyes pleading for him to take what he desired.

So, he did. With one strong, massive arm supporting you under your ass and the other pulling you closer to him, he backed away from the tree entirely and moved your arms to wrap around his neck so you could leverage yourself while he fucked the absolute life out of you. The noises that were escaping your lips were just as perverse as the sound of skin-on-skin echoing with vulgar, wet slaps throughout the forest, your mind already turning to mush. He was hitting everything, even when he wasn't really trying, so it took hardly any time at all before your eyes were rolling back and you felt that knot building up in your core. He didn't let up, his pace almost quickening with every desperate whine that escaped your throat.

"Savage, I-"

"Not yet," he commanded, pressing your chest firmly against his as he continued, "not until I say so."

You whined even louder, your hands moving up to hold onto his horns as he continued fucking you without mercy, that ache in your stomach growing more and more unbearable the longer you tried to push it back. Your breaths were desperate and rapid, with your face and chest flushing as red as a Dathomirian sunset with every passing second. You didn't know how much longer you could last, but you wanted to try your best for him.

"Please, I can't...!"

"Just a little more," Savage replied, relishing in the way your body was trying so hard not to break as he resumed his deliciously aggressive thrusts. Your hands moved from his horns to dig your fingers into his broad shoulders, your desperation reaching near-unfathomable limits.

"Savage, I can't-I can't-I can't-I'm-!"

You screamed as he finally allowed you to tip over the edge, having timed his release with yours so that you could ride out your highs in tandem. It was almost too much, the ecstacy of your edged climax intensifying with every twitch of Savage's pulsing cock so deep inside painting your gripping walls with heat. Even minutes later you were still quivering, barely coherent as your whines eventually began to die down and your lover held you tightly in his arms, before gently pulling his softening dick out of you once you had stopped clenching around his length.

He pressed a firm kiss against your temple as he waited for you to catch your breath, also ensuring that the majority of the unbelievable mess the two of you had made spilled out onto the grassy ground. Once he was satisfied, he moved one arm beneath both of your knees used the other to support your shoulders, keeping you close to him in this more comfortable position as he planted another long kiss to your forehead. He always thought it was cute when you were entirely spent like this, limp in his arms like a bag of grain as you relaxed in the afterglow.

"Are you alright?" He whispered against your forehead, lovingly stroking your arm as he did so. You responded with a soft smile and an affirmative hum, resting your hands against his broad tattooed chest as you curled in closer to him.

"I'm ready to go home," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

"Agreed. Let's get you some water and a hot bath."

Your heart fluttered, filling your chest with silent praises for him and rhetorical questions of what you did to deserve being here in the arms of this gentle, fearsome predator. He began the trek home, smiling to himself as a thought crossed his mind.

"You know," he began conversationally, "if you wanted to see me dressed as an ewok so badly, you could have just asked. I would have done it for you, anyway."

[anchoviesinthenightsky]

hades n persephone au 😩😩🙏🏽🙏🏽

AN: This prompt took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to do. I thought about several different approaches (leaning into the Daniela/Demeter parallels, exploring what happens after the myth—like what the summers are like). What I landed on was the pomegranate scene. I think it’s the most interesting part of the myth, because of how much it changes in the myth’s retelling. Sometimes Persphone is tricked into eating the seeds, or forced to, or does it without knowing the consequences, and sometimes she’s just hungry. But I love the retellings where she does it purposefully. It’s almost like, she understands that this moment will define her, so she chooses it for herself (and perhaps, in that moment, is when she becomes a goddess.) I hope you like this take on that. (I know I'm really pleased with how it turned out)

Luca = Persephone and Alberto= Hades

______: *✧･ﾟ:*___ >><(((・> ______ >><(((・> ____ _: *✧･ﾟ:*__

Luca kept to the back of the fruit tree grove, a pomegranate in his hands and a decision heavy on his mind. He turned the fruit in his hand as his gaze lingered on the river Styx. It flowed around the groove, cocooning it.

The river was clearer, sweeter, here than in any other part of the Underworld. Luca wasn’t sure if that had always been the case, or if it was due to his presence, still spreading life in the world of the dead.

The sound of footsteps broke the quiet, and Luca turned to see Alberto, weaving through the trees. The black cloth of his cloak was as dark as a moonless night, and the trees bowed their leaves as he passed.

Luca watched as Alberto’s gaze caught on the pomegranate in his hands. Remaining there for a beat too long before he spoke.

“The messenger of the Gods approaches. It won’t be long before you’re called to return to the surface.” Alberto said. He joined Luca at his spot, looking out on the river with him. “I will not force you to stay. You are not my prisoner. You have always been free to go.”

“But have I ever been free to stay?” Luca asked. The pomegranate felt steady in his hands as he turned it over, letting the fruit roll over the skin of his palms.

Alberto raised one of his hands and placed it on Luca’s stilling them. “Your decisions are yours and yours alone. No one else can make them for you.”

Luca pressed his lips together. The river continued running in front of them, and maybe he did miss the gurgling laughs of nymphs along the banks of rivers up above and the way that flowers bent in the breeze as they ran past. Maybe he missed his mother too.

He turned his head to Alberto. There was a beauty to this realm too. A groundedness, knowing that there was nothing further below, waiting. The impermanence of life meant nothing here. Spirits wanted through the fields of Elysium, and trees never died. And Alberto’s smiles felt almost like the sun.

“If I stayed, would I be wanted here?” Luca asked. Alberto’s hand twitched before curling gently around Luca’s.

“Yes.” Alberto’s voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent to it. A sadness. “But you are wanted on the surface too.”

“I know.”

Alberto shook his head. “Not all of it. Your mother, she grieves in a way only a goddess can. Her sadness turned the earth cold and barren. There’s no harvest, only death. The Underworld grows fuller each day.”

“The Underworld grows fuller every day.” Luca replied. He wanted to deny the cost of his mother’s grief.

“Not like this.” Alberto said quietly.

“I should get a choice.” Luca said. Anger rolling into his chest like a storm.

“You have a choice.”

“I don’t.” Tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes, hot and desperate. “I have an obligation to those that live on the Earth.”

“You’re a king of the Underworld. You have an obligation here as well,” Alberto said. Luca recognized it as an offering, an out. Could he justify staying?

Luca shook his head. “They deserve good lives and good deaths. Starvation is not that.”

“People will still starve. People will still die.”

Luca turned the pomegranate in his hands again, letting it press into Alberto’s palm as well.

“Not like this.” Luca sighed.

Alberto echoed his sigh and kissed his temple. “The decision is yours.”

“We’ll never see each other again, if I go.”

“Perhaps the time we spent together was enough.”

“It wasn’t.” Luca’s voice caught in his throat.

Alberto nodded. The corner of his mouth turned down.

The messenger god would be here any minute. Luca wished time would change its rules and let there be an eternity between now and then. Even that wouldn’t be long enough. They deserved more time, more happiness.

Luca broke open the pomegranate. The seeds shined like jewels, glinting like rubies in the low light.

“What if I only ate some of the fruit?” Luca asked. His gaze was fixed on the seeds, imagining plucking them out individually. “Maybe I could stay here a month per seed.”

“A loophole.” Alberto replied, light flooding to his eyes. He smiled. “It could work.”

Luca plucked out a seed. “What is one month to a year?”

“Not much.”

Luca looked at the seed in his fingers and pulled out three more. “Then how about a few more. Four months?”

Alberto stayed silent.

“The humans could survive that.” Luca pressed, waiting for a reaction from his lover.

“Not all of them.”

“No.” Luca looked at the seeds in his hand. “Not all of them.”

Luca looked up. His eyes flicked over Alberto’s face, taking in the sadness that had returned tohis eyes and the bags beneath them. It disappeared as soon as Luca saw it, but not fast enough.

“Could you survive eight months without me?” Luca asked.

Alberto nodded. “I’d wait eagerly for your return.”

He paused, and then asked, “Could you survive it?”

Luca looked at the seeds once more. “Yes.”

Pomegranate juice filled his mouth, and it tasted of spring.

>><(((・>

[got a prompt? my ask box is open!]

[ 5 days to We’ll Chase the Moon Tonight]

[reinvent-and-believe]

my blood is singing with your voice

Written for, but not posted in time for, @thewitchertransweek​

Ship: Jaskier/Regis

Rating: E

Tags: Trans Masc Jaskier, Smut, Body Worship, Oral Sex, Marking, Desperation, Secret Relationships, Very Mild Power Play, Jaskier and Regis Both Figure Out They Have a Vampire Kink, explicit and gendered language around Jaskier's genitals, referenced top surgery scars

Summary: Jaskier is lithe and beautiful in the moonlight, marked up from collarbone to hips.

Regis draws back to survey his handiwork.

A crimson abstraction on pale canvas turned pink, a dozen bloodred constellations just beneath the skin, so close Regis can feel against his tongue the very moment the blood vessels burst. It’s intoxicating, so close he can taste it. Just the slightest scrape of teeth, the most natural thing in the world to expect from an ardent lover, the gentlest pressure from too-sharp canines and the dam would give way, flood his mouth with the sweetest wine.

“Please,” Jaskier whimpers beneath him. He tries to press himself closer against Regis but he’s utterly at the mercy of the iron grip on his hips. “Mark me up.”

“That might not be entirely possible, I’m afraid.” He’s fixing the panting boy with a look that he imagines quite like a predator salivating over its prey. Jaskier’s moan confirms the suspicion. “It seems as though someone has marked you rather thoroughly already.” He returns to that same still pink patch of skin, one of the few places across his bare chest not mottled in various yellows and purples and greens. He kisses the hot flesh, sucking at the thin skin against his collarbone, dangerously close to the clear, unblemished expanse that remains visible when he’s clothed. “If we venture much further up, this clandestine affair will quickly become public knowledge, my dear. After all, your penchant for leaving your shirt open for the world to see has nearly taken care of that for us already.”

“Are you shaming me for the way I dress?” There’s a giggle in his breathy voice. Jaskier digs a toe playfully into Regis’s side. “Well, deepest apologies, darling, I didn’t mean to inflame your delicate sensibilities.”

“On the contrary, I’m quite certain that’s what you meant to do.” Regis grins, not bothering to cover his fangs. He runs his hands indulgently over the bard’s broad chest, memorizing the defined pectorals, the raised, rope-like scars, the soft, young tufts of hair. “Goodness knows I appreciate the view. I’m simply pointing out that it makes it a little harder to keep things, well. Discreet.”

They haven’t told Geralt.

Nor any of the others in their little band of companions. Regis is fairly certain Geralt’s sussed it out regardless, but he’s not spoken a word, taciturn as ever, and Jaskier seems to get a bit of a thrill from sneaking about, so Regis is more than willing to humor him. It’s new, and it’s exciting, and it’s…

Gods, it’s good.

Jaskier flirted with him idly since that first night with the mandrake spirits, touching his arm and fluttering those long lashes and knocking their knees together and dipping his eyes slowly across Regis before getting inevitably pulled back to Geralt with that lonely, distant expression. Regis couldn’t help being flattered by the bard’s attention, distracted as it may be, but had no intention of taking him up on his unspoken offer.

“Are you planning on fucking me or just looking?” Jaskier quips. Regis ignores him, spreading cold fingers as he continues to caress every inch of the flushed, blotchy torso. Patience is a virtue.

It had changed when the boy was wounded escaping the Nilfgaardian raid. Then Regis admitted quite stupidly that Jaskier’s blood smelled nice when he found no infection, because it had smelled nice and because he found himself horribly worried over Jaskier’s injuries, unexpectedly distraught at the thought that he might not again hear that flirtatious laugh or gaze into those eyes so endlessly blue. And suddenly the vampire found himself cleaning Jaskier’s wound and bandaging his head twice a day with deft and tender fingers, even though it meant defying the witcher who’d told him in no uncertain terms that coming back would mean death.

The revelation of Regis’s vampiric nature took an understandable toll on the budding relationship, of course; he heard the way Jaskier’s pulse raced at his approach, noticed the new edge to the nervous ramblings around him, the distracted fluttering, the awkwardness and stress and fear. This torture last nearly a week until one cold midnight, Jaskier slipped into Regis’s bedroll, eyes hooded, and asked, “Did my blood really smell nice?” with a flushed, curious expression, breathless and wanting.

“Regis.” And if the long, drawn-out whine weren’t enough to pull the vampire back to the present, Jaskier grinding up against him hard with a pout on his kissed-red lips certainly is. “Any minute now one of them will wake up and notice we’ve gone. Stop thinking and get on with it, if you’d be so kind.”

Regis tuts, slipping down his body. “You’re awfully demanding tonight.”

“As opposed to what night?” Jaskier lets out a contented sigh as Regis unties the overly ornate trousers and runs his cold fingers down their front, raking through dark hair and ghosting over everywhere warm and wet and delightful. He pulls the trousers down creamy hips and off, sitting back on his heels to take in the sight before him.

Jaskier is lithe and beautiful in the moonlight, marked up from collarbone to hips.

“Appreciating the view some more?” He’s wearing a sly, flushing smirk as he slides a hand between his legs. For all his talk of haste, he’s adopted quite the leisurely pace.

Regis rocks forward, catching him in a kiss full of heat and something else, something soft and unspoken. The bard’s practiced hand surges between them. Regis cradles Jaskier’s jaw, stroking his thumb against a stubbled cheek. “There’s quite a lot to appreciate,” he says. It sounds painfully sincere in his own ears.

Jaskier beams.

Regis can’t help taking his time. He luxuriates as he works his way down: the feeling of soft, blazing skin and silky hair against his lips; the smell of the boy, juniper and sage and sweat and need; the gradient bruises perfectly marring gorgeous flesh; the little skips and jumps of the boy’s excitable pulse.

He settles between Jaskier’s thighs, sliding his hands beneath to knead him and pull him close. The moan Jaskier lets slip is rich and full and lusty as he wriggles into the cold, careful touch. Regis leans in, savoring Jaskier’s little anticipatory gasp, and kisses the sharp hipbone, long and thorough. He chokes back a groan as he feels the blood rushing toward the surface of the skin, and he desperately follows the sensation.

Lust and bloodlust swirl together in every bracing breath, in every brush of lips and fangs against perfect searing flesh. It’s intoxicating, dangerous. It’s far too much and nowhere near enough, an absolute tease.

Regis mouths at him desperately and can’t help the little whimper that escapes as he wets his tongue through the bard’s folds. He’s not sure anymore if even blood ever tasted so sweet.

“Gods, Regis, your mouth.” Jaskier’s breathy voice carries an unexpected hint of a rasp. “I don’t know how I’ll ever survive it.”

He shouldn’t moan at the reminder of how vulnerable, how truly powerless the boy beneath him is. Shouldn’t revel in it, shouldn’t have to stop himself from rutting against the ground beneath him at the implication. A better man wouldn’t get off on it.

And yet...

“You look positively monstrous, love,” Jaskier moans, his heels against Regis’s shoulders urging him closer, harder. “As though you mean to suck me dry.”

Jaskier’s wet lip is trapped between his teeth. A delicate blush lights his face, but there’s no shame when he meets Regis’s glance, and no fear, only arousal and trust.

Regis kisses and sucks his way to the juncture of Jaskier’s thigh and groin, eliciting a most delightful cry when he carefully drags his fangs across the delicate skin. His long, cold fingers move to stroke Jaskier with deft, familiar motions.

He can feel the blood flowing through the femoral artery just beneath the pale, unblemished skin. And without thought or plan, Regis sucks, hard, until white skin throbs purple in his mouth and the boy beneath him is shaking and whimpering, and it’s too much, the skin threatening to give way and Regis tears himself away to mouth desperately at Jaskier’s cock.“Please,” Jaskier begs, “so close, darling, please...” His listless fingers find purchase, roughly tugging at silver locks of hair.

And it isn’t that it hurts, not really, but that shock of pain-pleasure is enough to stir something deep and primal that has him moving on pure instinct until he’s snarling down at the wide-eyed boy, pinned to the ground with an icy hand on his throat, a thumb just barely pressing down on the carotid artery.

After centuries of restraint, Regis craves nothing quite so much as indulgence.  

“Beautiful.” He lowers his head to brush his lips against the racing pulse.

Jaskier chokes back a sob. “Please, Regis.”

“Please what?” The slightest graze of his tongue, a cool wet trail following the artery several inches. He feels how close Jaskier is, would feel it pounding within them in tandem even without the thick, heady arousal carried on the night breeze. When the boy doesn’t answer, Regis looks up to him.

Jaskier’s staring at his mouth. “Suck me dry,” he breathes, flushed all over.

And when Regis moves back to his neck, he covers his fangs carefully with his lip before leaning in to taste him, to suck at the boy’s sweet, smooth skin, feeling the quake of each tiny blood vessel burst with the pressure. He slides his fingers on either side of Jaskier’s cock, rubbing him off desperately as he sucks at his throat, never quite enough, never the perfect pleasure of the skin parting, melting away between…

Jaskier comes with a cry, clutching the back of Regis’s neck as he rides through the aftershocks. Regis pulls away, grimacing yet reveling despite himself in the deep crimson bruise, so prominent, obvious. “Apologies,” he murmurs, tracing the splotchy skin. “I’m afraid I got a little carried away.”

Jaskier waves away the apology with a lazy gesture, still blissfully drifting in an exaggerated post-orgasmic haze that Regis finds utterly endearing. The vampire allows himself a few tentative touches, and when Jaskier leans into them eagerly, Regis indulges, kissing down his body until he’s back between the boy’s thighs, nuzzling gently against warm, wet folds until he’s licking him open again, a starving man, ravenous.

Jaskier holds Regis’s hand as he eats him out, the utter romantic.

Regis adores him.

[yukipri]

One Piece Mermaid AU!

Featuring Luffy as a rubber mermaid who can’t swim, and Ace who carries her on his back as they pirate together.

＊Genderbend warning, fem!Luffy

Sliding in last minute for MerMay, bc idk about you, but I need something to mark that May has passed this year...

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

~~

Base headcanons for this AU beneath the cut! ↓ ↓ ↓

Luffy's a mermaid who was raised in Fuusha village, just like in canon. And, just like in canon, despite being a mermaid, she SUCKS at swimming, a fact that Shanks finds absolutely hilarious. She still wants to become a pirate, she still eats her devil fruit and becomes a rubber mer(?), she still gets kidnapped by Higuma (who sees her as an excellent way to rake in cash, given how valuable mermaids are on the slave market), and Shanks still gives her his hat.

As a devil fruit user, Luffy's already atrocious swimming skills are now at zero. She can still breathe under water, but will sink like a stone, her strength sapped by the sea, and if she loses consciousness she'll stop breathing too. Needless to say, she stays out of the water, and the villagers come to accept that sometimes, mermaids just live on land.

Garp still comes back, and is still furious at her wanting to become a pirate (and inwardly, extremely concerned that a bandit tried to catch and sell her), and still takes her to live at Dadan's where she meets Ace.

Ace has no idea what to think of the weird fish-brat who he's now told is gonna be his sibling, and resolutely ignores Luffy. He's inwardly slightly impressed as Luffy continues to follow him through the mountain every day, not even particularly hindered by lack of legs and using a mixture of crawling, squirming, hand-walking, and ricocheting forward with rubber arms to move.

Luffy still meets Sabo the same way as canon, and is still caught by Porchemy, who at first is thrilled because a mer brat! That'll bring in WAY more money than the spare change Ace stole! But in the end, he loses his temper at Luffy's stubbornness and still beats her to a pulp.

Ace and Sabo still rescue Luffy, and they still exchange sake cups and become brothers.

Yes, brothers.

Because at this point, neither Ace nor Sabo nor any of the bandits, nor anyone really on Dawn island save Makino and Garp actually know that Luffy's a girl. Not even Luffy.

The three brothers promise to each other that they'll all leave the island when they turn seventeen, setting out to sea to become pirates (Ace and Sabo are honestly a little concerned, given how often people try to sell Luffy, and how despite aquatic appearances Luffy's vulnerable af in water, but decide to wait and see. They have seven years together, Luffy ten until seventeen, who knows how much stronger their baby brother will get in that time).

Sabo "dies."

Ace and Luffy continue to train, and things don't change until Ace is seventeen, shortly before he sets out to sea.

He's let Luffy crawl into his blanket to sleep with him (partially cold-blooded, Lu gets cold easily when inactive), and Ace realizes that his lil brother's chest feels a bit lumpy.

Concerned, he makes Luffy have it checked out by the bandits, who are shocked to find developing...breasts?

That can't be right...right?

Dadan makes a call to Garp, who snorts and says of COURSE Luffy's a girl, didn't he say granddaughter?

No, he had not, he had only mentioned "grand child."

Everyone is shocked, but none more so than Ace, who really doesn't know what to do with this new information.

(Luffy's not quite sure what a "girl" is, and when she asks Ace, Ace honestly doesn't know how to define "girl" either, so she doesn't get what the big deal is)

Ace realizes he's troubled because he can't remember the number of times he's rescued Luffy from potential traffickers, and the number of times he's heard the lament, "Pity it's not female, it'd be worth quadruple," from the kidnappers before he beats them to a pulp.

He already had doubts about letting Luffy go out to sea alone, three years after he's left. But now knowing that Luffy's a girl, and one of the most sought-after species that traffickers target...he knows the world out there is much bigger than a teeny peaceful East Blue island, and Luffy may not get lucky every time, and may not be strong enough in just three years.

But at the same time, it's not like he can order her to stay here. There's no way Luffy'd listen; the sea calls to her, freedom calls to her, and Ace understands that more than anyone.

Sabo, Ace thinks, what would you do?

The night before he leaves, Ace tells Luffy that there's been a change of plans.

He's still leaving for sea. He's going to get stronger, and work his way towards becoming Pirate King.

BUT, three years later, Luffy will NOT leave Dawn Island alone.

Ace promises that he'll come back, a stronger pirate capable of looking out for his baby brother (because girl or not, they exchanged vows of brotherhood, and that's something that can't be changed).

He refuses to let Luffy be his captain, he's still got his pride, but maybe, maybe if Luffy becomes strong enough, he'll let her be co-Captain.

Luffy is thrilled, because she wanted to be pirates WITH Ace, and grudgingly accepts the compromise, and promises to train and wait for Ace's return.

Ace leaves Dawn island, and makes a name for himself on the Grand Line (he's PISSED when he finds out he's eaten a devil fruit, because now how's he supposed to rescue Lu from drowning when he can't swim himself???).

He even eventually makes it to Whitebeard, and eventually comes to admire the man. Whitebeard invites him to his crew, and Ace honestly replies that a large part of him wants to accept...but he can't. He promised his baby brother that they'll be pirates and co-captains together, and he can't join another pirate crew without Luffy agreeing too. Even so, and he knows it's selfish of him, he wants to call Whitebeard his father.

Whitebeard tells him that Ace is already his son, regardless of where his allegiances lie, and gives him his blessing to return to East Blue to fetch Luffy. Whitebeard laughs that he can't wait to meet the lil brat that Ace speaks so highly of, and for Ace to hurry up and come back to the New World so they can meet.

Ace plans on traveling light, his former crew all choosing to join the Whitebeard pirates except for his first mate, Deuce. Ace loves his crew, but they're also his crew, and knows that he wants to make their crew with Luffy. So he thinks he and Deuce will be a good starting point (You're just bringing me along bc you want someone who can swim on the crew, Deuce accuses).

As they're planning on leaving, Marco lets slip to fellow commander Thatch that he heard that Ace's "little brother" is actually a super cute girl.

The next morning, Thatch shows up too, insisting that he come along, because hey! He's been with the Whitebeards for ages and hasn't been to Paradise in a while, he wants some change! And won't it be nice to have someone as reliable as him along, just until they get back to the New World and reunite with the Whitebeards? Really he has no ulterior motives like wanting to check out Ace's supposedly hyper hot baby brother-sister!

Ace is suspicious, but Thatch is already on board and the other Whitebeards are already waving so he lets it go.

(Shortly after they leave, Thatch discovers a devil fruit. Deuce tells him to sell the damn thing, it'll taste like shit, but Thatch thinks boy wouldn't it be great to be able to woo Ace's hot brother with a really cool devil fruit power. So he eats it, and yeah it tastes like shit, but now he can control Darkness which is sorta badass?)

(Somewhere on the Whitebeard ships, Blackbeard is still waiting for someone to find the darkness devil fruit, and well, it doesn't happen)

Before Ace returns to Dawn Island, part of him still hopes that Luffy looks passably like a guy. Having been to Fishman island, having befriended Jinbe, he knows that while mermen can still be targeted, mermaids are exponentially more vulnerable. He's learned the kinds of clothing that can help conceal tails, and is hoping that there's a slim chance they might be able to be pirates without the world knowing that Lu's a mermaid.

His hopes are shot when Luffy rockets into his arms at the dock, and his face is immediately buried in enormous tits that definitely weren't there three years ago.

Despite Ace's growing concerns (and red face; why does he feel so hot??? It's not his devil fruit...), Ace lets Luffy give Deuce a beating (why me?!) to claim her position as Ace's Co-Captain of the newly established ASL pirates (because if we're pirates together, Sabo has to be with us too!).

Luffy's gotten a lot stronger, but is still utterly ignorant of the outside world and the dangers it holds (such as the drooling Thatch who immediately wins Luffy over with his cooking despite Ace's burning glares). She's reckless and falls into the ocean every damn day, and while Deuce dives in after her and they've discovered her useful ability to talk to fish to ask for help, it still gives Ace heart attacks.

They still pick up more crew members while in East Blue, including Roronoa Zoro, Usopp, and Sanji, a pervy cook who competes daily with Thatch for Luffy's affections through food (Luffy appreciates the food).

At Arlong Park, Luffy encounters fishmen for the first time in her life. Arlong mocks Luffy's choice of friends and family, and invites her to join his crew made of her own kind. Fishmen and mer are the superior race, and Luffy will make a fine wife, Arlong says.

Luffy breaks his nose off, and Nami joins their crew.

Luffy's chosen mode of transportation is on the back of one of her sturdier crew mates, usually Ace, but often Zoro too. She unfortunately hates all the long skirts/robes Ace suggested for her to hide her tail, and so Ace has decided that being as intimidating as possible while carrying his brother glued to his back is the only way to go.

Needless to say, news of the former Spade Pirates Captain + Whitebeard Commander Thatch (are they an extension of the Whitebeards??) establishing the new ASL pirates spreads fast. That, and rumors that there's a beautiful young mermaid on board who can't swim. And despite the strength of the crew and their attempts at vigilance, Luffy's still dumb and gullible, and is kidnapped (and rescued) a dozen times before they're even on the Grand Line.

(after a few times, Luffy's uncharacteristically quiet, and privately asks Ace if they can break up the crew. She's holding Ace back; she not only made him come back to her, but half their adventures just seem to be her crew rescuing her. She's strong enough to defeat enemies, but not save herself. Ace tells her to shut up, and never bring this up again; they're BROTHERS, and he's not going to leave her behind or make her abandon her dreams when she can't accomplish them alone, and that's his choice. Luffy doesn't bring it up again, but works harder than ever to become stronger and earn recognition as co-Captain when the world seems intent on thinking of her as Ace's pet.)

During one of these kidnappings, Luffy's successfully brought all the way to an auction house before her crew can rescue her. An auction house that unbeknownst to them, was under investigation by the Revolutionary Army.

Liberating slaves is an unfortunately common mission for them, and Sabo's doing final sweeps as Koala frees the last of them when he notices a tank stowed away in a corner. He's familiar with these tanks, used to showcase mermaids in the rare occasions one can be caught, and it looks empty but he's still drawn to it for some reason.

It's only when he gets closer that he notices a mermaid crumpled at the bottom of the enclosure. She's completely slumped over, and he's afraid she's already gone, even as something about her screams with familiarity.

He's cracked the tank and has reached in to pull her out, when the wall behind him explodes in flames, revealing a furious Ace who snarls at the strange man with his hands on his baby brother...

...and then Sabo's memories come back.

~~

Something like that???? For an initial HCs dump????

This AU has continued! A LOT! Check out the comics, illustrations, and text stories for this AU under the Mermaid AU section of my One Piece Masterpost!

As always, REBLOGS, tags, asks, and comments greatly appreciated!

Advance posts for this AU and more are on my Patreon! (Patreon(.)com/YukiPri)

[littlefreya]

The Crystal Ship - Part 1

Summary: Henry is the most dangerous crime lord in England, he has everything he wants and women throw themselves at his feet, but what really gets him off is what’s hard to get.

Pairing: AU! Mafia Boss!Henry Cavill x OFC (Ash)

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: Smutty Smut, MaleDom Vibes, Stripping, Bad language, Sexual innuendo, dry humping, bodily fluids.

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write this for a while and I only hope you guys will like it. As usual, I am nervous. It was supposed to be a one-shot but ended up being longer than I expected so I am dividing it into two parts for now. Many thanks to @agniavateira my sweet beta and helpful muse. Cover designed by me.

Please leave feedback  💖🥺 and more importantly, enjoy.

Title: The Crystal Ship

The sweet, smoky scent made his nose curl in repulsion. It was thick in the air, like a fruit that was too ripe, mere moments before rot sets in. Henry dreaded coming to the Imperial, even though it was the only safe ground to conduct business without having to deal with the district attorney's snout or any unwelcome eavesdropping. The club felt musty, drenched with bodily fluids and not in a good way. The men who frequented this place were foul animals; being amongst them made him feel as if their filth was rubbing onto him. 

Sitting at the bar, he downed his whiskey, hissing while the fiery liquid hit the back of his throat. The bartender stood behind the counter, polishing some glasses and looking at the large man as he brooded on the sleek black marble of the counter.     

Plastic neon lights flickered magenta and turquoise on the slick surface. An offensive contrast to the gloom that played inside Henry’s head. Life lacked vividness when everything was handed over on a golden tray. Money, beautiful women, fast cars. 

The women of the club were especially keen on throwing themselves at his feet, thirsty for his attention and money which he was never willing to give.

“Please fuck me, Henry.” “Please let me suck your cock.”

As any man, he was flattered, though if he wanted to see a woman naked, he wouldn’t need to pay for it. Still, they circled him, desperately whining at his feet whenever he stepped into the club.

All except for her. 

Big, almond-shaped eyes the colour of fertile light brown earth with a touch of green. Sitting on a barstool in the opposite direction. She was one of the girls working the club, no doubt. He didn’t imagine she was a gangster wearing fishnet stockings and a tight corset.

New girl, he gathered. He had never seen her pretty face before tonight. It was apparent she could sense his glance. Her body shifted uncomfortably, her irises focused on the straw of her tall glass of orange juice yet she never bothered looking back. Not even a smile on her nude lips. 

Henry scoffed as a spike of interest surged through his mind. He spotted the long-haired beauty earlier as he sat through an infuriating meeting. Her big hazel eyes cut into his attention abruptly, focusing on his glare for a wisp before she swung away. 

Treating him as if he was a nobody.

She chose to ignore him, much to his contempt. 

Girl likes to play tough? Well, I happen to like bending things in my hands.

-----------

Ash felt her hand prickle as she waited on the bar stool. Sipping on an orange juice, she watched as an ageing rich couple made out on a red vinyl booth while a curvy girl danced on their table. Candy-Apple, the girl who she was paired with for the night, disappeared to one of the VIP rooms with a customer. Instructed her to wait and not to take any customers alone, being still a trainee. 

The Imperial had some strict dos and don’ts. 

Little did Candy know, Ash had the miraculous gift of getting herself into sticky situations and for reasons she couldn’t explain, tonight felt like one of those nights. 

Taking another sip, she exhaled nervously, the corset tight around her ribs, further pushing her already strangled lungs. It was her very first shift and she seemed to have fallen on a busy night. The customers were not too pushy, though. No one has smeared himself onto her while holding a pitcher of beer and smelling of peanuts on their breath. Candy promised that the owners won't touch the girls and don’t let anyone else touch them either. The Imperial might be a “gentlemen’s” club, but it was one of the safest joints for girls to work at in London.

It didn’t do anything to calm the anxiety that waited at the door as she felt the presence of the tall stranger who kept his eyes on her for the last couple of hours. 

She “bumped” into him earlier as she walked around the ground floor. Broad shoulders and a face that looked as if it was put together from all the best parts found in heaven. He sat with three other men, looking like the superior one in the group. Fury burned in his eyes, yet his posture was composed which only made him look more frightening. It was a mistake to gander, she knew it deep in her heart, but he was an impressive specimen of a man. She couldn’t look away, not soon enough before their eyes met.

Now he was sitting a few meters away. A spiced drink sits in his glass, a ghost of a smile loomed over his face while his fingers were pressed to his temple in some sort of dark intrigue. He stared with the confidence of a man who knew he could have everything and it seemed like she fell on his aim.

Feeling uncomfortable, Ash broke her gaze and slipped off from her seat, wishing to find a place where she could hide from his hungry curiosity. This man had trouble written all over his arrogant posture and if she learnt anything about herself, it was that she was a magnet for chaos. She turned on her stilettos and crouched down for a second to rearrange the fishnet stockings around her thighs before straightening up moving on.

In the most natural order of things, the stranger was there to stand in her way. 

Broad and mysterious, the man towered above her with a small smile edging his mouth. Up close, she noticed his copper-brown curls and eyes like smooth steel. They shone like sharp knives through the club’s neon lighting. His jaw was cut marble, defined lines soared across his high cheekbones and even his lips had the perfect cupid’s bow. 

Ash registered him carefully and her heart murmured. No man should be this good looking; he was beautiful in manners that seemed unearthly.

“May I buy your precious time, love?” 

His voice hung low and deep, smooth like a chocolate truffle that melted on one’s tongue. 

The scent of danger filled Ash’s nostrils; it smelled like peated scotch, aftershave, and heady musk. Judging by his cool-grey tailored suit, it was quite clear that he was a businessman from the underworld kind.  

He burnt hot, and a part of her was immediately drawn to the flame. Yet despite the thrill, he seemed much more perilous than any of the other criminals who lurked around the club. This man could easily fuck up some poor girl’s life. 

In the dark cold cavern of the club, with his shadow casting over her face, the stranger seemed more like Hades than just the ordinary mobster.   

“Maybe some other night”, she forced herself to refuse, doing her best to sound polite yet stern while offering an apologetic smile in the hope that he would accept her refusal and let her go. 

She knew right away that wouldn’t please him. It was clear as vodka; he wasn’t a man who took no for an answer. The thought alone made her nerves shiver as if someone was sliding ice on her skin.

Henry ran his knuckle across the dimple of his chin. The signet ring on his pinky finger flickered on her hazel eyes in blinding silver. He took her in with a deep inhale. No, not even a drop of appreciation on her pretty face but he did detect a tinge of fear.

Interesting he mused, a small grin stretching his defined lips. The little dark-haired woman was either completely oblivious to who he was, or she was one of them ladies who had principles. 

Whichever it was, it spiked his intrigue and made for a curious turn of events in a very boring night.

“Isn’t that what you do, darling? Dance for money?”

He asked as he waved two £50 bills between his long fingers as an offering. His accent was posh and not a fake one either. She imagined he grew up wealthy. How does a man who presumingly, could achieve everything in life wound up into a place like this, she wondered. Not that the Imperial club was anything sort of sleazy. It was owned by the largest underworld family and had a taste of an old cabaret. Male celebrities often visited the club aside from gangsters and corrupt politicians.  

“It’s my first night I’m not really...”

Henry reached into his pocket, drawing six more £50 bills and offered it to her. The steel in his eyes softened for a moment, yet the peril still hovered on his face. 

He was a man trying to appear harmless and the risk never seemed so alluring.

Chewing on her cheek, she stared at the money. It was enough to stock the fridge for at least a month but it wasn’t as even half as seductive as her stranger’s haunting charm. 

Fuck it.

Taking a deep breath, her slender fingers reached toward the hand that held the cash. She snatched the money from between his digits and tucked it in her garter belt. Henry beamed, pleased that she agreed. Two large dimples creased his cheeks as if this man needed any more attractive features.

Ash wrapped her fingers around his wrist and led him through the depths of the club while her heart thundered in her chest. For some reason, it felt as if she was walking freely into a trap. 

And yet, excitement boiled in her blood. 

The cracks between their silent contract were filled by the beats of the monotonous music. They passed by the abundance of half-naked women who were coaxing different men around the bar, touching and smiling sweetly, serving them with nothing but the illusion that they are wanted, when in fact they were needed for nothing but a paycheck. 

Henry followed the petite woman, anticipation coating his veins and spiralling a small grin on his face. He guessed that without her heels she’d be at the height of his shoulder, this pretty little thing with raven black hair. He was intrigued by the way she bravely withstood him, almost to the point of irritation. It seemed as if his spell was useless on her as she carried herself carelessly, unlike the many women who threw themselves at his feet, begging to be fucked.   

There was something provoking in her, to the extent of him willing to break another one of his own rules and get a sense of what she felt from the inside. 

Her fingertips pressed on his wrist, sensing the pulse within. His heart ran strong and confident but she imagined it would only be a matter of time until she’d have him a complete mess. 

They all have the same weakness, no matter how much power they have. 

The large spacious club narrowed into a slim corridor while teal and magenta-coloured lights danced diagonally across a mirrored tunnel. Their own reflections appeared several times, accompanying them as they arrived in an open room, guarded by a huge, square-shaped bodyguard with a shaved head, chewing on the dead skin of his thumb.

Henry eyed him carefully, giving him a small nod before following her into the room. The interior was dark, with a black ceiling and a black shiny floor, embellished with white LEDs that reflected on her red stiletto heels. An onyx leather couch waited in the middle next to a small edge table holding plenty of bottled hard liqueur.   

“Make yourself comfortable.” She gestured toward the seat and shut the door behind her, taking a deep breath as she felt a slight increase in her heartbeat. In the confinement of the small space, the brooding man had the energy of a lion, hazing her senses and making her feel like nothing more but a fluffy little rabbit. 

The leather squeaked beneath his weight as he shifted slightly, wide thighs spread open while he glanced at her rear. She turned to tinker with the stereo system, selecting a tune to dance to. 

Browsing through the selection of beverages, Henry decided to treat himself to a bottle of smoked whiskey. He unturned a clean lowball on the table, the sharp hiss making her flinch and then slump her shoulders at the sound of thick liquid being poured. The odour of spiced ashes filled the room, mixing with his musk and her sweet perfume.  

“Should I pour you one as well, pet?” 

“I would rather not drink on the job,” she replied and pressed play. Soft synth tunes played through the speakers and Ash turned to him slowly, giving him a seductive glance. 

“Depeche Mode, really?” He crooked an eyebrow and smiled with amusement before pressing the glass to his lips and eyeing her carefully.

“I thought this song is fitting for my first VIP client” she answered, and made sensual steps towards him, already feeling captive by the daggers on his eyes. Henry took another sip of the amber-gold drink and placed his glass aside, pressing his fingers against his temple while examining the woman who was running her hands over her corset.

“You’re my first too.” 

“Bullshit,” she mocked, entering into the space between his knees. 

Henry tilted his head, a small warning glare crossing his chiselled face. “Mind your tongue, sweetheart. You’re a lady, act like one.”   

She bit her tongue, avoiding the small tremor that flapped from her chest all the way up to her throat like a tiny caged bird. The dominance and authority in his voice made her shiver, making her feel as if she was owned by more than just his money. She wondered what made a handsome man like him even bother paying for something he could get for free from any woman he wanted.

“Fuck,” she provoked, keeping the fear on her breath tucked well behind a sweet sultry smile. She took joy in the dissatisfaction that danced on his face as she cursed. “You know how this works, then?”

“You take off your clothes and dance on my lap like a good girl?” 

“I can touch you, you don’t touch me.” she warned, and slowly fell to her knees between his thick thighs, following the hollowed drop in the melody. Henry stared down at her with a pleased look on his face, his eyes hued with wanton as she rolled the laces of her corset between her fingers and unwrapped herself like the sweetest present. 

It wasn’t her first time giving a lap dance. She worked in strip clubs outside of London, but those were much smaller clubs that held no more than 40 guests. And none of her customers looked like Big Handsome Boss. 

“That seems unfair,” he answered as she spread her corset open. Her perked nipples teased through the loosened fabric while she gave him a pouty look and pulled at the laces delicately until she was free of the confinement of her bodice. 

Henry shifted in his seat uncomfortably while she revealed her body to him. Small breasts glowed heavenly in the LED lighting, skin pure and smooth like honey. He was forced to reach a hand to adjust the huge bulge that pooled with arousal while her fingers began stalking up to his knees like two big spiders. 

Big boy, she noted, trying to deny the small electric tingle that ran mischievously between her legs.  

“Many things in life are unfair, Mister…”

“Henry.”

“Henry,” she answered, her French-manicured nails scratching his thighs, eliciting a low growl from him that made her spine crawl. “Not that I imagine that a man like you would know.”

He let out a small chuckle, she wasn’t far from being right. The hardest thing in his life right now was the fact that a beautiful nymph was dancing between his thighs and he wasn’t allowed to touch her. Yet.

The little vixen clutched his thighs tightly and pushed herself up steadily, spine curving, her breasts displayed an inch from his lips. She climbed to his lap and straddled his waist, pressing her panty-clad crotch against his caged erection. A rogue moan escaped her lips as she felt the mass of his bulge between her legs, much to the large man’s delight.

It appeared she wasn’t all immune to his spell. Her breath was shaking in her throat as she pressed her hands against his chest, feeling the hard pecs under the soft cotton of his grey shirt. Henry was sturdy and large. She couldn’t help but wonder what he hid beneath his well-tailored outfit. His biceps were bigger than her head as he kept his arms folded; those thighs beneath her ass felt thicker than logs.  

Her lustful gaze swayed to meet the sky in his eyes up close, detecting a slight imperfection in one of them: an earthly taint of brown. He gave her a slanted grin, descending to feast on the sight of her half-naked form with a flick of his tongue across his lip. 

Red flags waved at the back of her mind. This man was the epitome of danger, drenched with dark lust and sinister grins. The fact that he was a sweet, sugary treat for a starving girl made for a sinful mixture, causing both distress and stickiness between her thighs.

Henry placed both his hands on the armrests, fingers digging into the onyx leather to hold himself from grabbing her slim waist and grinding her onto his cock. Her mound felt fiery hot onto the fabric of his trousers, and the slow tidal sway of her hips did nothing but engorge him even more.        

“What’s your name, little minx?” He asked, his breath heavy and sweet with whiskey against her neck. 

She hummed in response, closing her eyes and throwing her head back while her hands held onto his broad shoulders. The dark waterfalls of her hair streamed down behind her. Her torso stretched, bare breasts a delicious sight while she danced on his groin, increasing the friction that ran like smouldering heat. 

“It’s… Lilith…” she answered, licking her lips as she felt the blood vibrating between them.

Henry groaned, enjoying the brush of her body against his. She moved in sensual waves- slow yet hard, like a storm inching an ocean. Her voice hummed softly in his ear, her almond-shaped eyes tricking him into believing he was desired, needed. 

And perhaps he was, as her lips swelled red with passion and she danced on his cock with as much urgency to please herself as to please him.

“Your real name, pet.”   

Ash closed her eyes and shook her head. “I am not allowed to tell you.”

“Fair enough,” he growled. He felt her increase the pace, pushing harder onto him. His self-control was vastly challenged. His breath became fervent fumes. He felt the moistness beneath his hands as he clutched tightly on the soft leather as if his life were dependent on it. The pulse in his organ became as rageful as a volcano.

“You look like you’re enjoying this as much as I am,” he murmured, letting his lips inch dangerously close against her neck. “I wonder if this sort of thing would happen with anyone else, or I’m special.”

Goosebumps spread through her skin, her nape felt a cold shiver. Ash swallowed hard. If this was a thriller film this was the point where she was supposed to turn back and save her skin, yet all she fancied was to push her cunt against menacing Henry and mewl as tinders of joy licked between her legs.

“Is that a problem, if I am?” She dared.   

Unable to control his body’s natural instincts, Henry broke and bucked his hips roughly into her mound, giving in to her grind, growling as the collision created sparks of fire that increased the flame between them. 

“Not at all,” he grunted, feeling droplets of sweat forming on his brow. “Only that I paid you.” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself.”

And tendrils of pleasure were indeed within her grasp. Ash felt a tremble in her thighs. He was large and hard, demanding to be let inside her. She’d be lying if she didn’t want the same, imagining just how large a man of his size was. 

She wondered how he’d fuck her, would he be as slow and rough as their carnal dance, or would he throw her on the bed and wreck her till she cried. 

The dark gaze in his eyes made her lean toward the latter and darn if he didn’t look at her as if she was the most intoxicating woman on earth. Feeling the flush ride from her cheeks down to her chest, she turned around, pushing her ass against his cock instead. She wanted to come so badly, the throb between her legs mingled with the fear that tingled in her chest. She wanted to remind herself she was protected by the owners of the club and the man standing right outside, yet Henry made her doubt herself. 

And for some reason, it only made her more excited.

“Touch me!” She demanded in a voice tainted with desperation.

There was no need to ask more than once. Her handsome stranger groaned the most beautiful melodies in her ear and reached his aching hands to squeeze her breasts. They moaned together as the much-needed bond had formed. Henry’s thumbs circled her nipples while his fingers kneaded on the fat of her flesh. She knew this was a mistake, he would leave his violet fingerprints all over her skin yet her judgment was clouded by the pleasure his touch elicited on her desperate flesh.

“Lilith.” Henry gasped, allowing himself to nuzzle the girl’s hair as she seemed completely lost to her own desires. “Do you fuck your boss?”

“I’m not a prostitute.” she answered breathlessly as one of his hands climbed up to her neck and held her jaw, drawing her head back onto his shoulder. His hips bucked harder against her ass, the pounding in his cock was nothing but white-hot fury. He held her tightly while she dug her nails into his thighs. 

“Not what... I asked…” he gasped, his voice breaking between grunts.

“No.” 

Ash felt his cock twitch beneath her and his moans chanted repeatedly, becoming louder and louder. The pulsating need inside her was unbearable yet it wasn’t enough, not for her. She needed to feel something inside her throbbing cunt yet she feared breaking the rules. Henry pushed against her ass with vigour, emitting inarticulate sounds until he clutched her tightly and gasped with pleasure. 

For a few seconds, the room felt like the most radiant thing on earth.  

Ash breathed out as his hot mess was sticky against her ass. Slight disappointment danced in her chest as she didn’t share his climax and her heart was still in rageful turmoil, furious for not being let to feel the much-needed pleasure. Yet a part of her was relieved that their contract has expired. 

She might have managed to avoid trouble for once. 

“Good.” Henry breathed out, panting heavily as he tried to adjust his lungs. His hands still covered her breasts, sensing the dampness of her skin against his sweaty palms 

“Because I am your boss, darling.”  

Her mind still fuzzy, Ash let out a confused chuckle which quickly died as the man beneath her didn’t join in her laughter. The rigidness on his breath sounded dead serious and the signet ring on his pinky finger suddenly felt cold against the softness of her breast.   

“Cavill.” she called out, panic pitching her voice higher. “Henry Cavill…?”

“Mhmm.” he hummed with approval, an arrogant smile spread from the corners of his lips as he noticed the obvious shift in her mood. Still seated on his lap, she let out a trembling wheeze as her heart sank to her gut.

“You are not joking, are you?”

“No,” his voice rumbled, vibrating low and thick against her prickling spine. 

Ash felt the sweat turn cold on her skin. Giving a small turn, she was unable to determine whether she should get up or remain seated on his groin. She could see the shit-eating grin on Henry’s sharp jaw from the corner of her eye and decided to gather her shaky feet to stand, nearly losing her balance as her heels suddenly despised her.

“Mr. Cavill, I’m so sorry,” she dropped her gaze to the floor, her hands covering her breasts nervously out of the misled thought she offended him. If he felt threatening before, now she felt pure terror making her blood sting. The Cavills were the most notorious organized crime family in the United Kingdom. Their web spun across each district, and they owned half of the police force in London.

She just made a filthy mess out of the trousers of a man who kills much more important people than her.

It was very much clear to her that it would take little to no effort to make a no one like Ashleigh Carr disappear. 

The room began to feel as if it was depleted of air all of a sudden.

“Considering you just made me come all over my pants, you can call me Henry, or sir.” he corrected her in his deep voice while his piercing steel eyes focused on the obvious stain on his crotch. 

Ash blinked, terrified as Henry reached for the phone at the back of his trousers. A muscle strained in his jaw while he scrolled through the device and then placed it against his ear. She opened her mouth to apologize once again, yet was silenced by Henry holding up his index finger gesturing “wait”.

“Sean, I will need a clean suit brought to the Imperial, ASAP. Make it a dark one.”

The crime lord ended the call with a friendly yet authoritative “Cheers,” before lifting his gaze to the slender girl who still stood at the same spot with eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Never in his life had he had a naked girl look at him with so much fear on her face. 

It was an interesting new aspect. 

Reaching down between his knees, Henry fished for her flimsy corset and pulled his heavy body upward. His long legs stretched as he stepped toward the horrified girl. Giving her a smile, he handed her the piece of garment. 

She snatched it from his hand with slight hesitation while he stared down at her, his head tilting as if to further study the features of her face. She was too afraid to break eye contact, strapping the corset back around her body without saying another word.

“Lilith…” Henry called, his spiced breath hot on her face.

“Ash...Ashleigh,” she admitted.

“Ashleigh,” Henry pronounced her name softly in his low voice, giving a small dreamlike smirk as if it was the most beautiful name he ever heard. His tongue licked over his bottom lip while he drank the sight of her in. 

“I’d like to fuck you.”

Ash stared at the man in front of her with surprise, lust still blooming between her thighs, her skin tingling with the imprint of his touch. Inside, she seared with passion and he was undoubtedly the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen with his kissable lips and crystal blue eyes.

But she detested the idea of being a whore. She never slept with a customer, nor was she willing to sleep with her boss. 

Even if it cost her life. 

“As I said, not a prostitute.”

“I have no intention of paying you,” he answered with a dry chuckle.

“You just did,” she answered and then took a deep breath, choosing not to say more. She still valued her life after all, no matter how pitiful it is. 

Henry gave her a slanted smirk and began circling her like a predator stalking his prey. Careful eyes followed him, her breath measured with every step he took. 

There was a spirit in her, warm and feisty. Defiant despite the fear that sparkled as clear as water in her beautiful eyes. In the cold, secluded room of his sinful club, he finally felt the thing he chased after for years. Passion. Desire. 

And it was booming in his heart.

“I find you interesting, Ashleigh,” he replied and shoved his hand into the pocket of his jacket, drawing out a sharp silver card.

“But I am not one to beg, nor do I take pleasure in pressuring women to sleep with me.”

The card gleamed like a knife as he held it between his digits while waiting for her to accept it. 

“This is my driver’s number, just in case you decide you do want to spend your night with me.”

*

Read Part 2

________________________________________________

[jaskiersvalley]

CW major character injury (beartrap)

Splitting up for winter seemed like the most sensible idea. Geralt would head north with Ciri and, at his insistence at not leaving his muse, Jaskier. Meanwhile Regis would lead the others south, down to Touissant for a bit of downtime. Privately Geralt also hoped their infuriatingly stubborn Nilfgaardian shadow would opt to head for the warmer climates and leave them alone. It wasn't even that Geralt was worried about the man following them. Over the weeks it had become abundantly clear that he was trying to help in his own way, even fighting off a stray bandit or two to keep their tail clean. Rather, Geralt simply couldn't be bothered to exert the energy to get to know yet another person and it was another mouth to feed. Given his rather solitary nature, the fact he was travelling with a ragtag bunch was already quite exhausting.

As luck would have it, Geralt ended up with the Nilfgaardian trailing after them, heading steadily north. The weather got colder and sometimes Geralt caught the whiff of another camp fire, creeping a little closer as it that small lessening of distance would give their tail a smidgeon more warmth. It was pathetic and Geralt was more than a little pissed off. Still, at least the trip up to Kaer Morhen would lose him. Nobody was foolish enough to try and reach the old keep alone, even Witchers succumbed to the trail, a human by himself stood no chance. So either their foolhardy idiot would find shelter for the winter in the surrounding villages or he would perish.

They were at the bottom of the mountain, one last night to get some rest before they braved the slopes. Jaskier and Ciri definitely needed sleep and to give their bodies a break. Geralt was content to meditate, keeping them safe. In the distance he could hear their Nilfgaardian make camp, daring to stray as close as he ever had. Frustrated, Geralt found himself wishing that a bear would appear and deal with the annoyance for him. Alas, he couldn't hear or smell a bear in the region despite the villages mentioning that there had been some bears sighted earlier in the year. Thankfully the local hunters had taken care of them. Lost in thought, Geralt almost didn't register the sound of something snapping shut before a pained cry echoed in the forest. Immediately he was up, sword in hand while Jaskier was on his feet too, looking around in the darkness.

In the distance Geralt could hear pained hitches of breath plus a few agonised grunts. Whatever had happened, it wasn't the swift death he'd wished on the Nilfgaardian. There wasn't anyone or anything else in the vicinity so whatever had happened, the idiot did to himself. Probably stabbed himself with an arrow in the dark. Despite all his ill-wishes, Geralt couldn't bring himself to ignore someone in trouble.

"It's the Nilfgaardian. He's in trouble."

There wasn't any argument when he set off, Jaskier and Ciri behind him, treading carefully, a flaming torch lighting their way. Geralt almost wished they hadn't had the torch because then he wouldn't have had to see the scene in front of him in full colour. The Nilfgaardian was on the ground at the edge of a small clearing where he'd obviously planned on making camp. However, the stench of blood around him suggested that something hadn't gone according to plan. Walking up to him, Geralt watched as the man realised he wasn't alone and jerked upright. A beartrap kept him rooted though. His hands were bloody, even worse, his palms had been cut open from where he'd obviously tried to pry the metal from his leg. What struck Geralt though was just how young the man looked. Wide blue eyes stared up from shock paled skin, lips almost white enough to be missed. Only slightly older than Ciri, probably about twenty, Geralt couldn't fathom why someone so young was so desperate.

"You'll need to keep still while we get this off," Geralt said, crouching down. The young man tried to scramble away but aside from leaning back, he couldn't go anywhere. "Why don't we help with the pain a bit?" Hand raised, Geralt prepared to cast axii. Before he could, a rock connected with the man's temple and knocked him out cold as Jaskier stood behind him, hand wrapped around the lightly bloodied rock.

"That will keep him still and out of it," he declared. "It was the kindest thing."

"Or you could have let me use axii to keep him calm." Geralt tipped the man's head to the side to check how badly the rock had split his skin. It was going to give him quite the bruise, possibly a black eye and one hell of a headache. Still, it did made life easier and Geralt pried the trap off. It had snapped in bone deep, probably even broke his leg. Humans were fragile like that and the trap was meant for a bear. Sighing, Geralt looked around the miserable excuse of a half made camp. It screamed of skills learned on the fly, for the sole purpose of survival rather than something practiced in safety before being put into reality. "Grab his things. We'll head up to Kaer Morhen tomorrow and take him with us."

They had more in the way of bandages with them and, while the man was unconscious, Geralt did his best to clean the wounds, splint the leg and bandage it as well as the cuts on his hands. There wasn't much to be done for the headache of the future though.

In the morning Geralt roused from his meditation to find a pair of blue eyes staring at him.

"You going to make an example of me and kill me?" The accent was harsh despite the soft voice. It wasn't what Geralt had expected coming out of the man's mouth.

"Yeah, I wasted all the bandages on you just for that. Name's Geralt."

"Cahir Mawr Dyrryn aep Ceallach."

"Quite the mouthful. Cahir alright with you?" The nod was answer enough and Geralt set about getting breakfast ready. It was only thanks to the events of the previous night that he kept an eye out for more beartraps and avoided falling victim to one himself. He set it off with a stick and winced as it splintered under the metal jaws.

Despite their best efforts, by the time they'd loaded Cahir onto the cart strapped to Roach, his cheeks were flushed with fever and Geralt could smell the sickness on him. The valiant effort to get to know his new travelling companions better was foiled by the way Cahir kept drifting off, a combination of sickness and from the hit to the head. When he woke, it was only Jaskier's quick grab to the back of his shirt that kept Cahir on the cart as he threw up over the side.

It wasn't looking good. The first night they stopped, Geralt helped rebandage Cahir's injured leg. As the cloth fell away, it became amply evident that infection had thoroughly set in. The cuts were an angry red without defined edges to the inflammation while the wounds themselves were puckered with puss.

"It's fine," Cahir tried to reassure with a wobbly smile. "I've survived worse." Which may have been true but he'd probably also been in a place with better medical supplies. The gnarly scar below his collarbone and through to his back attested to his words but Geralt didn't think it was caused by an old, rusty beartrap. If they didn't make it to Kaer Morhen soon then no amount of surviving worse injuries was going to mean anything.

Come next morning Cahir was no longer quite so chirpy. He was still and silent on the cart, Ciri sat next to him and sometimes gesturing for Geralt to look, worried that Cahir had stopped breathing. He hadn't but his deathly pale complexion wasn't giving Geralt much hope. They were still at least a day and a half out from Kaer Morhen, maybe even two because of the additional weight on the cart.

A fever peaked and fell in cycles, each time Geralt hoped it would be the last but, before long, he reached to feel Cahir's skin and winced at how hot to the touch it felt once more.

By the time they made it up to Kaer Morhen, Geralt feared it would be just a corpse for a funeral pyre that they'd be dragging in. By some miracle it wasn't. With Eskel's help he pulled Cahir off the cart, floppy as unresponsive as he was, there was still air in his lungs and an erratic heartbeat in his chest.

"What did you bring us this time?" Lambert teased before getting a better look and his grin turned into a frown. "Well shit. I'll get Vesemir."

It took three days before Cahir was declared out of immediate danger. Geralt spent a lot of it down in the infirmary, sitting next to him. The others could start Ciri's training and Jaskier was no doubt pleased to get to spend time with Eskel again. It left Geralt in the quiet, watching over someone who he had convinced himself he hated. But this wasn't the person he'd conjured up in his mind. Barely older than Jaskier had been when they met, Cahir didn't look like he had any youthful optimism or naivety.

"I'm sorry." Geralt murmured, watching as Cahir slept, breath a little less thready. He should have been better. Shouldn't have judged, not when he was on the other end of so much of it himself.

By the time Cahir roused, everyone had settled into their winter routine. Ciri trained most days, reading tomes Vesemir left her when it got too cold for the outside obstacle course. It left Geralt free to sit with Cahir, watching as glazed eyes opened, unseeing. The worst thing was, not once did Cahir cry out for someone or reach for an invisible source of comfort. In all his years Geralt rarely found someone so lonely. Even Lambert, in his training days, had called out for his mother and, of late, for Aiden. It was a struggle to believe Cahir had nobody.

"Why?" The first word from cracked dry lips and Geralt jumped. He grabbed a wet rag and dabbed it against Cahir's lips, squeezing a little water into his mouth.

"Why what?" There were a lot of questions Cahir could have and Geralt wasn't a mind reader. He startled when a weak hand clasped around his wrist, keeping his hand close. It felt all too natural to take the rag in his other hand so he could cup Cahir's sunken cheek.

"You stayed."

Something told Geralt this wasn't something Cahir had encountered before and it broke his heart. Why nobody would stick around for him was baffling. Even a Witcher had more people looking out for him, he was certain. He cleared his throat, trying to think about why he stayed. It was true, he had no reason to. "I wanted to."

The soft 'oh' from Cahir pulled at something in his chest. He let Cahir tangle their fingers together shyly, looking up at him from the infirmary bed with so much awe and gratitude, Geralt didn't know what to do with it. So he sat back down into his chair and kept holding Cahir's hand. There was a lot of talking, of getting to know each other in their future. But, for now, Geralt was content to offer whatever comfort he could, vowing to be better than all those who had come before him.

[obeywho-meduh]

Okay so yet another self indulgent piece thanks to my favorite monster bf artist ❤️💗💕 @cosmic-whorror

Inspirational pic [here]

Lost in the Labyrinth of Dreams with Minotaur Belphie

⚠️NSFW WARNING: Sadist Belphie x Fem!Reader, Dub-con, Blood, Penetration, Oral (male and female), Monster Fucking, Degradation, Choking, Hair pulling, ‘Dying in the Saddle’ (dying while having sex), Character death, Dark themes

I would like to state that this is indeed angsty smut BUT! Cause I’m such a smooshy bean, of course it had a good ending~

Enjoy my lovelies ❤️💗

She tried to move but his hold on her was as strong as ever. At least they were laying on his bed. “Belphie... Are you awake?” He had her body wrapped in a blanket and hugged her close to him, using her stomach as a pillow.

Belphie squeezed her waist and groaned, “No..” He buried his face against the soft skin of her abdomen, the added pressure tickling her.

Tittering as her fingers laced themselves in his hair, caressing his head while trying to adjust herself better. “If you want me to stay here tonight then I need to be able to breathe.”

He grunted, blowing warm air into her shirt before he lifted his head and looked at her, “Do you? You look so beautiful when you’re lifeless in my arms.” She thumped his forehead. “Ow…”

“Oh that didn’t hurt! And we talked about that!”

His eyes shifted to the side, “Mmmm...Well, that’s what you look like after I stuff you full of my milk.”

Her face flushed red and she wiggled her way out of his hold then turned to her body away from him, she wouldn’t admit that that particular thought, or rather that memory, sent a pleasurable jolt of excitement down to her apex. “I-I’m going to sleep!” He kissed her lower back before sitting up to now be to the big spoon and as his arms surrounded her, her back against his chest he then kissed the back of her head. Her eyelids suddenly felt heavier than before, she wasn’t actually sleepy and yet...

“Sweet…” Belphie’s voice softly echoed in her ear as her consciousness faded, “...dreams.”

—————

Screams filled the room around her as she ran down the never-ending hallways. No matter how many turns she would take there was no end in sight; no light except the occasional torch.

Was she going in circles?

How long had she been walking?

Where were the screams coming from?

Monstrous howling bellowed along with the screams and this time when she turned the corner, there were bodies, dead bodies.

A dark figure towered over them and a sense of horror and dread filled her thoughts. Her eyes only saw the hooved-feet before her mind said to run.

Her body didn’t move, her eyes didn’t leave the ground while whatever it was approached her, stepping past the massacre before stopping in front of her. Her eyes creeped up to get a full view of this creature.

Seeing its thick, hairy, bull-like legs connected to the muscular torso of a man, its chest was heaving, decorated with droplets of sweat and blood across its defined chest along with some black spots splattered along its shoulders..

[image courtesy of @cosmic-whorror with permission to share in this fic]

Without realizing, her eyes were locked with the creatures’ own beautiful and terrifyingly deep purple orbs. It tilted its head as it looked at her, then it reached its hand down and cupped her cheek. The touch was so soft and she found herself entranced.

“I’m going to enjoy destroying you.” Its voice was hoarse and deep as its hand came down to her throat and picked her up. Choking her while it lifted her to the wall, her hands gripped at its wrist while she gasped for air; kicking her legs only made it harder to breathe. “Look at how desperately you’re trying to breathe.” The creature grunted with an amused chuckle.

Her heart was racing and tears fell from her eyes, what was the point in fighting the inevitable? If she was going to die, why struggle? Her body calmed but she continued to hold the monster’s wrist, her grip lessening with each passing second until she was overcome by darkness.

She came to to the sounds of screams filling the room. She was running down the hallways, turning left and right then right and left, but there was no end. Her heart dropped and her body froze right before she turned the next corner. But why did she hesitate? Why won’t her body move forward? Her hand touched her throat as she started to back away. Then she could hear it, heavy breathing and the sound of something big walking towards the corner she dare not turn. A hand appeared from around the corner followed by black twisted horns and those eyes. Where had she seen them? Her legs gave out as the monster slowly revealed itself. As she sat on the ground, the creature kept its eyes locked with hers only stopping its advance when it was directly in front of her.

“Do you enjoy dying?” She watched as it lifted its foot and then brought it down to her stomach, pushing down on her as her body squirmed under its hoof. “You must, look at how you’re dancing under me.” It didn’t physically hurt, almost like she was suffocating. She wanted to push it away but the more she looked into its eyes, her will to fight back diminished. Her eyes started to close but before the overwhelming pain took her, it lifted its hoof off her. “I wonder if you’d be more afraid to live…”

Curled into herself, her hands gripped her sides gasping for air, before it grabbed her hair and began to drag her down the hallway. Struggling against its hold hurt, but so did the occasional rock or bone that it’d pull her over. The hallway started to get brighter and widened. The monster tossed her into a room encircled by stone, chains hung from the walls, and skulls decorated the floor. She landed on a pallet, some hay poked her as she began to sit up.

“You’re going to be mine unless you prefer to die? Not that you won’t be begging for death after I’ve taken you.”

Clenching her fist she holds it to her chest, “Y-Yours? Take?”

It got down and crouched beside her, blowing out hot air from its snout, the force making its septum piercing sway, “I am male and you are female.” Her body shivered as she instinctively tried to back away and he grabbed her chin. “Therefore you are going to be my heifer and take my seed until you’re a pathetic lifeless mess.”

Lifeless.

Trying to recall where she’d heard that, she wondered why she wasn’t scared of him but then he pulled her up as he stood, yanking on her arm to get her to stand with him. He backed her against the wall, head coming down to trap her head between his thick horns. “Arms up.” His eyes followed her as she raised her arms and he put them in the chain cuffs; they were cold on her wrists. As he locked the cuffs around her wrists, she took a moment to look down at her body.

To her surprise, she was already unclad, but where did her clothes go? Had she been naked this whole time? No... she had something on before...so when?

His hand grabbed at her throat again, its claws pressing against her pulse. “Get all thoughts out of your head. Only think of how much of my milk your stomach will be able to take.”

My milk.

Without hesitation he took hold of her legs and lifted them. She couldn’t see it but she felt it. All of it. His cock stuffed her, tears filled her eyes and she inhaled sharply to release a high-pitched screech as her body convulsed around his thick girth. The bulge it created in her stomach terrified her, there was nowhere for her to run.

The chains clanged as his hips moved against hers, she thought she was crying out but her screams were muffled. No not muffled. She couldn’t make any sound at all. But wasn't she able to before?

She looked down at his hand covering her mouth, then it moved so his claws could push inside her. When did his hand move from her throat? He toyed with her tongue as his thrusts grew more sporadic and violent causing her back to crash against the cold, stone wall each time. The unforgiving surface scratched at the cuts on her back; she could feel the warmth from her blood dripping down her skin. Sucking on his fingers, her drool fell down her chin. Feeling herself coming close to the brink, she writhed against the restraints, arching her body to feel more.

His grunts were rapid as his cock swelled inside her, he took his fingers from her mouth and picked her up by her thighs opening her more. He bucked hard, she could hear his hooves pound the ground in unison with his pace. His angle changed and it felt like he was going to break her back. “P-Please stop...Aaahh..I-It hurts!!”

As the words escaped her, he seemed to get irritated and slammed her against the wall as he thrusted. When her back hit the wall, his cock angled differently and the momentum made his cock curve, it hit the base of her pelvic bone, breaking it from her spine. Her vision faded as her body registered the pain, everything went black.

Before she knew it her eyes opened, her mind panicked as it saw the Minotaur standing before her. “W-What are you!?” Didn’t she just die? Wasn’t he just fucking her? Why did it look like her body was back to the way it was before?

His hand grabbed her neck, “Just a nightmare.” Her mind started to piece itself together, the familiar sensation of having his hand around her neck. Each thrust gave her the pleasure and pain she longed for. And only he knew how to take everything she had, including her life. His eyes that captured her time and time again, upon realization she didn’t know how to react except to utter his name. “..Belphegor…”

The room around them seemed to dim and the once red flames of the torches turned a bright blue. It made his eyes shine brighter while the bullhead faded to darkness and Belphie’s face replaced it. “Why’d you have to go and ruin the fun I had planned?” A smirk creeped across his face. His hand moved from her neck to grip her jaw, “What am I saying? I still plan to break you in two again…” He came down and licked her lips, “Just like I did before, my pitiful little toy.”

She shook her head while her legs squirmed trying to get away from his grasp.

“Where the fuck do you think you can go? You can’t run from me Y/N, you are mine to love for as long as I want. And what’s better! You’re in my playhouse so let’s not hold back.”

Attempting to keep up with his words, it only made sense that this was a dream. Well, as he said before, a nightmare... She tried to imagine herself without the chains, seeing if she had any control in her own dream. “What do you mean hold back?” It almost seemed as if he really was in full control, so there was no telling what he had in mind.

“I can fuck you relentlessly and kill you without anything happening. And we can repeat it, over and over. Doesn’t that sound like fun Y/N? I can make any of your fantasies come true, just think about it.”

She’d had thoughts of Belphie doing numerous degrading things to her, punishing her, using her as his own personal fuck toy, his cock-sleeve, but how could she tell him? “B-Belphie.. I..” Her eyes fell from his gaze and looked at his still half beast body.

He took hold of chin and started to laugh, “Ohh Y/N, I should tell you I can see your dirty thoughts as you think about them. And my my, you have some very fun fantasies, you filthy little whore.”

Before she could rebuttal her mouth was covered with a ball gag, as she turned her head the walls had disappeared around them and they just seemed to be in a void. Her body quivered as her eyes returned to his. They were so intoxicatingly luminous, and she could feel her body heat up as she shook her head.

“Oh don’t cry~” His smile seemed innocent, “If you cry too much, I might just keep you in here until you’ve drowned us in your tears.” His face reverted back to that of a more humanoid bull, his horns extended out further than normal as he grabbed her ankles and lifted her body up. He hung her legs on his horns while his hands moved to hold her waist. Her apex trembled as his thick tongue pushed its way into her folds, curling and flicking itself around inside of her.

His lips covered her lower ones as the void echoed out the noises of him working his tongue inside her. She bit down on the gag while her legs clenched onto his horns, her climax crashing over her faster than expected. He sucked and lapped at her juices then quickly he bit down on her clit making her arch her body using his horns as support. She fell back yanking him a bit as she did. Lifting her legs he moved them from his horns to his shoulders and pulling his tongue away he panted, “What a greedy little toy you are.” He then pulled away and let her body swing from the chains that still held her by the wrists.

“It’s my turn to cum.”

She blinked and her whole body had changed position, the ball gag and chains were gone. Belphie now straddled her chest, his cock laying across the side of her face. Finally seeing it, she saw the outlines of veins bulging and pulsating against its thickness, similar to his real one. However, this cock has an ombré color, black from the base halfway to the shaft then grey up to a soft pink at the very tip. As she turned her head to see it more there were a few black spots around the halfway point, her heart raced and chest heaved.

Saliva gathered in her mouth, his eyes narrowed down at her. “Well?” In his position she couldn’t reach her hands around his bull-like legs to grasp his massive erection. He scoffed then grabbed her hair as he pushed his thumb inside the corner of her mouth, pulling her cheek. Her mouth opened as she whimpered and he pressed the tip inside, passed her lips. “Good thing you don’t have to breathe in my playground.” Both his hands returned to her hair, his grip tight as he started to buck his hips.

Her hands tried to push him away because despite the lack of needing to breathe, the feeling of his cock stretching her throat made her see stars. Unfortunately his strength was still evident, but the feel of his hairy lower body was soft and muscular. She started to ease in her frantic thoughts and let her arms hook around his legs. Attempting to work her tongue seemed to be useless as his excessive thrusting left no room for any additional stimulation. Gagging repeatedly and not passing out from lack of air was comforting but also overwhelming as he fucked her mouth mercilessly.As his cock grew in her throat, it created a bulge that was visible from her neck and Belphie grunted out as it pulsated. His hot seed shot down her, burning like a strong whisky as the heat of it spread through her body, her eyes fluttering with tears as the amount of cum she swallowed expanded her stomach. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and watched as his cum dripped on her face. She coughed making some of his cum decorate her chest, “B..Bel..” Her breathing went from non-existent to heavily panting as he stood up from her.

He lifted his hoof then stepped down on her stomach, laughing as she flailed to grab at him. “Want to see one of my fantasies?” Applying pressure as he pushed his hoof down more making her cough, gagging and throwing up more of his cum. “Hahaha! Look! I turned you in a gushing geyser!” Lifting his leg to remove his hoof, he kept laughing, “You’re a pitiful fucking sight,” He reached down and grabbed her throat, “Let’s make it better. Actually, I should be more honest with you. It’s only going to get worse~”

Her tear filled eyes filled with wanton pleasure as her mind filled with the multitude of ideas continued to flow, and as she tried to speak, “Beep Beep Beep.”

Belphie looked up to the light that emerged at the top of the void, “Son of a-”

—————

“Mmm..” Her eyes slowly opened and they looked up at the familiar ceiling of the twin’s room, and she reached over to turn off the alarm on her phone. Then her thoughts collected, the beast, the fucking and her quivering core that was acheing for more of him and her eyes quickly shifted to try to find him. He still had her in his arms, laying beside her with his head buried in her hair, “Belphie..a-are you awake?” Turning her head so his lips rested on her forehead.

“No thanks to you..” He sighed against her and pulled away a bit, she looked up and saw his sluggish face yawn. “And since we’re both awake.. why don’t we continue where we were?” In a swift motion, he was on top of her, his knee between her inner thighs and his hand around her throat.

[springalwayscomes]

Still Alive

I would need a million words

If I tried to define

All the things you mean to me, yeah

For you I'd die a thousand lives

Special kind of energy

'Cause love is born when hearts collide

Every time you touch me

You remind me that I'm still alive

-17, Pink Sweats

Plot: Jungkook is the reason. For what, you don’t really have to explain. And the fact that he’s been feeling low lately, you say, only makes you want to stay by his side more. Truth is he’s feeling worse than he’s ever felt.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Wordcount: 2.4k

Content Warning: Mentions and descriptions of panic and anxiety attacks, Jungkook is lost and depressed (if we have to minimize). Please do not read if you are triggered by this type of content.

Author’s Note: Honestly, I’m not even sure if I really want to post this. This one is different from what I’ve been writing until now and I feel so exposed. I’ve been through this, so it’s pretty difficult for me to talk about something like this without feeling exposed and fragile again, I’m not even sure about the reason why I wrote this, but now it’s done. I hope I will keep this on the blog, even though I’m not sure. It was inspired by the song 17 by Pink Sweats, and at the beginning I wanted to write a soft smut but it turned out to be like this and so much deeper than I‘ve ever imagined. To write it I really had to minimize the feelings I used to feel at that time, because I couldn’t express them in the right way and honestly (really honestly), thinking about that period of my life still scares me a lot. Anyway, I am feeling better now, and even though this work contains a lot of sadness and it’s really harsh and raw to read, I want to tell to whoever is going through this, or whatever problem you’re facing along your way that you’ll feel good again. Spring will come again, as our boys say. You’ll feel light again, and you will be three times wiser than you were before. I wish a happy new year to everyone and I hope that you will appreciate this! 2021 will be better than 2020, so let’s all cheer up.💜

«It just sucks»

These are the first words that welcome you home. Jungkook’s voice coming from the bedroom and your mind immediately wandering to understand what’s happening, if he’s fine. He’s been feeling low lately, anxious and stressed with work. It sucks to see him like this, if you were to use his words. It sucks.

Jungkook is the reason. For what, you don’t really have to explain. He is the reason. Jungkook is everything, everything.

The images of last night coming to your mind make you eyes water and you quickly take your shoes and coat off before you jog to the room where he is.

Layed on the bed, arms crossed on his chest and hair disheveled Jungkook stares the ceiling on top of him, Taehyung and Jimin at his sides. You swear you see his cheek glint under the light, the path of a tear making its way on his skin. Your chest heavies, breath stuck in your throat as Taehyung and Jimin notice your presence and greet you with smiles that say anything but happiness.

«Baby» you call out. Jungkook blinks, neck slowly turning to meet his eyes with yours. The way yours are watering more and more every second and the way Jungkook bites on his lower lip tell Taehyung and Jimin that they should probably leave you alone. The two sigh, hugging the littlest man tightly and whispering things you can’t discern from here, but Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change. And it breaks you apart, in a million, billiards of pieces, scraps.

His hyungs smile at you, each one leaving a kiss on your cheek before they head to the door.

It’s only when you hear it click that your body starts working again, quickly removing your clothes and letting them fall onto the floor, then taking big steps towards the bed and sitting down. You know what comes now, it became a routine by now, and Jungkook knows it too.

You hug him. So tight and comforting, lovingly that he feels his eyes water again, for the fifth time today. Your embrace smells like the both of you, familiar and special, a space that seems made just for him.

His head rests on your chest and a moment later you’re slowly laying on the mattress, leading him with you and trying your best not to make any movements that could scare him.

Jungkook is having problems, not a little. You’re just too scared to admit it.

He’s been feeling low lately, you say.

He’s feeling worse than he’s ever felt. He’s scared, scared of the world and himself, of everything. He always feels anxious, putting his nerves on the edge and his brain in condition of never stop working, he’s always attentive, watchful of everything, too much.

The anxiety eventually led to anxiety attacks and panic attacks. It’s been a hell of a road until now, and you thought that maybe he could make it. You still think it, but these times seem to be the hardest. Especially since yesterday night.

He had a panick attack in his sleep. His side of the bed wet with sweat and tears, his whines waking you up just to see him with his hands on his chest and his face soaked with both tears and sweat, eyes shut close and lips as red as blood.

Jungkook is extremely sensible. He feels the judgement of people, he’s shy and it takes him a lot to stand for himself, his self-esteem has never been so low than in these last year. All of these facts together, eventually led to a breaking point. This moment. “If you won’t let it go, it will occur the time where your body will come in the way and do it for yourself.”, said his psychologist last week as she tried to explain what was happening to him. “His brain told him to stop what he was doing and since he wouldn’t listen, it had found a different way.”

And you swear on your life as you hug him tighter and tighter to you, your fingers brushing through his hair and his hot breath fanning on your neck, that you will be here for him forever. It doesn’t matter how much it will take him to feel better, how hard it will be.

«Do you want to talk?» you whisper. As quietly as you can. He doesn’t answer, but you feel his arms tighten their hold around you. You watch the beautiful features of his face, his eyebrows, his eyes shut, his nose, the petals of his lips, the freckle on his nose and under his lower lips, his golden skin.

«I’m here, I am always going to be here. I love you» you whisper.

Jungkook wouldn’t want to do it again, but by now his eyes are reckless and they let out another tear; warm and full of pain it tickles his skin as it travels on his nose until it eventually falls and lands on your collar bone.

«I’m sorry» he whines, sniffing. His face nuzzles onto the crook of your neck as other warm tears wet your skin. Your heart shakes, your chest becomes heavier. You squeeze him so tight, if there was a way to take away all of his pain you’d do it without even blinking, even if it’d end with you being in his shoes.

«What are you sorry for?» you whisper again, your lips kissing the locks of his dark hair as he hides his face.

His body is stronger, bigger than yours. But he needs the same attention and love as a baby now, the same thoughtfulness. Jungkook is in a fragile state, and you have to be hyperaware of everything to make sure that he doesn’t slip out of your hands and fall, breaking into shatters on the cold floor.

«...This-» he weeps, his back shaken by sobs. «M-me... I-You-»

«Don’t be» you cut him off.

«Don’t ever feel sorry for how you’re feeling. Never» you reassure. A soft kiss is placed on his forehead, and another one on his hand after you slowly, carefully lead it to your lips.

«Did you have-»

«Three»

This time he’s the one who cuts off. He doesn’t want to hear their name, he hates them. He hates them so much, and for you is the same. Watching him in sweat, with tears falling down as he whines lost in his world, the way he can’t breathe in the right way, his lips trembling and his eyes desperate for help but afraid that it will never come, scared and in a world with no light at the end of the dark tunnel: that is what you hate the most in the world.

He hates panick attacks just as much as you do. Fuck them, you think.

Three. One shakes him enough to make him sleep for at least three or four hours after, all of his energies get sucked away in a scary way both mentally and phisically, to imaginewhat he is going through right now makes you hold him even tighter. Thank God that Taehyung and Jimin were free today and stayed here to help him, Jungkook is too afraid to remain home by himself, and honestly you would never leave him alone when he’s scared to death of himself. In the morning, he’s afraid to get up from the bed, because it feels like his only safe space, he doesn’t even dare to go to the kitchen; the only thing he can do is focus on his breathing, you are the one who brings him breakfast, lunch and dinner and help him eat. The idea of a new day already beginning scares him even more because he knows it will be just as shitty as the one before, full of fear for him. Panic and anxiety attacks come and go as if they were the air he exhales and lets out, some of them last longer and are deeper, Jungkook would end up crying in your arms and beg you to stop them. It breaks your heart everytime to not being able to help him just like he wants. You could see the fear in his eyes every time, and even when they finally leave, that shadow won’t. They scare him, so much that he does his best to avoid them, and right now is to just stay in bed. He can’t leave the bed without being swallowed by the anxiety of doing something wrong that will eventually trigger another attack, so he lays still for almost the full day beside of when he needs to go to the bathroom. You usually follow him and wait outside of the door, his cheeks redden every time at the thought of needing you to help him even for something so mere, but he’s thankful that you do. His deepest fear became himself, not being able to control his brain without falling in the arms of panic again. Just the other day he had whispered you that he was afraid of going out of his mind and that if he were destined to live like this for the rest of his life, he would prefer to be dead. The thought made you shiver. You had sweetly kissed his forehead, telling him back that he was all but crazy and that everything will eventually be alright, these are just some obstacles on the road. And you really hope it. The fact that now he’s not safe from attacks anymore not even in his sleep scares him even more.

«I’ll stop talking then,» you caress his neck, so incredibly warm that for a moment you think he might have had catched a fever too «you-»

«Please, don’t» his head slightly raises from its place in the crook of your neck, eyes looking at you. They look so tired, exhausted, spent, weary.

«Please talk to me, I want to hear your voice»

Your lips meet his forehead, pressing to it as if it was your lifeline. Jungkook’s eyes shut close, the feeling of something familiar warming up his chest just the slightest, he tells himself that maybe he could live with this sensation. It certainly would be better than being scared and breathless, with your brain playing tricks on you. It would be a hundred times better to live with this sensation, not tingling or burning hot but slightly calm and still, like a caress but really light. The one of the one hundred percent. This is enough to make him feel better, just the slightest. A speak of dust in the desert, but at least is something. It’s warm, familiar.

«I would need a million words if I tried to define all the things you mean to me»

Jungkook opens his eyes, watery again. His lips tremble, breath stuck as he looks at you with him emotions on full display, fragility at its peak.

«For you I’d die a thousand lives» you whisper. And God, you mean it. You never meant it more than now saying it in front of him, for his eyes and his heart.

«Special kind of energy, cause love is born when hearts collide» you go on. And by now, Jungkook knows what you’re doing.

«Is this-»

«Ssh» you caress his cheek trying to make him relax just a little bit. «Every time you touch me you remind me that I’m still alive»

Jungkook loses it as he looks at you while you say those words, the same that you’ve been reminding him of for all these minutes, this morning, yesterday night after you witnessed his state for all these days.

He doesn’t care if he’s feeling lightheaded or if the feelings in his chest are so deep and make him feel such in a haze that it will eventually lead him towards another panic attack. He needs you, he needs to feel alive again, to feel reassured and loved more than ever.

His lips meet yours, not in a soft peck like the ones you’ve been giving him in these last days. A kiss that makes his blood boil in his veins and his mind in a haze, not because it’s vicious or promises something more but because is full of promises of happy endings and limitless fondness, a kiss that would take away all his pain and give it to you if it was possible. That is what makes him wish he was able to give you more. He swears that he never felt something as soft as your lips, he never believed in a place as much as he believes in your embrace, he never loved someone as much as he loves you, he never felt more alive then now. You can feel his emotions on your lips, in your mouth; his fragility, the way he’s desperately trying to let himself go and how he hopes, how he believes that you will help him in doing so and will take good care of him if he succeeds, the bitter taste of the fear of being this fragile to himself, of feeling something that might be too much too handle for now.

It’s like giving his first kiss, it’s just like the first time. It’s new and Jungkook almost feels like he’s not enough because he knows he can’t give you more, and the thought makes his heart clench in pain. But you don’t care, and if he’s willing to give you ten then you’ll take five, because you don’t want to exhaust him. That’s the reason why you part from him, slowly.

Jungkook loves you, so deeply and profoundly. And you read it on his face as he parts from your lips and rests his head on your chest, his low lidded eyes keeping their stare on you.

«My heart is beating so fast» he whines, breath already itching, voice full of panic and fear.

«Bad fast or good fast?»

«Both» he shuts his eyes again. He’s going to have another panic attack, he can recognize it, he feels it coming, and you know it too just by that shadow in had in in his eyes before closing them. A mix of desperation and anger towards himself to not being able to control it.

At least, I’m still alive, Jungkook thinks. Even though, beside from that span of time when his lips met yours and he felt like he was doing the right thing, he is not that sure that it worths it.

Maybe tomorrow I can live a moment like that again, it’s the thought he tries to keep in mind as his breath itches more and more.

[anistarrose]

hello, my love (ao3)

a slightly late @taznovembercelebration fic for the day 19 prompt “established relationship,” albeit in possibly the least conventional sense of the phrase. in other words, this is the culmination of a lot of Blupjeans feelings I couldn’t not write about any longer

*

It — it feels wrong to say I’ll miss you, but —

No, I get it. It’s gonna be so fucking weird, and I — I know it won’t last forever —

Okay, I — I can’t do it like this. Not if we make it sad. Lup, I love you so much, you know you’re the light of my life and undeath…

Of course, babe.

…and I’ll see you soon.

The world Barry wakes up in is tinted green, obscuring everything besides a few ill-defined silhouettes. His limbs are numb at first, but as… red sparks? run down his arms, the feeling returns as a strange sort of weightless sensation, like he’s floating beneath the surface of a lake.

A few bubbles escape from his nose, and oh shit, he really is submerged in something. Before he can even wonder which way is up, his hand grazes something that immediately tears away — and with it drains out the mystery green liquid, which he’s just going to pretend is water. He staggers onto the floor of a cave, blinking rapidly as he adjusts to the light. It’s definitely a cave; he can feel the cool air on his skin and the bare rock beneath his feet — so why is it so bright?

The answer arrives in the form of a voice, whose owner becomes a little more visible to him with each blink of his eyes.

“Care for a towel? Actually, I’m giving you one whether you want it or not, ‘cause if you die of hypothermic shock after everything we’ve gone through to get here, that’s just gonna be awkward.”

She’s beautiful, he knows before he can truly see evidence of the fact. There’s so much care in her voice that her joke can’t disguise, and the towel she slings over Barry’s shoulders is warm, but not as warm as her hands. This feels like the correct moment to freak out over being, as far as Barry can tell, completely buck naked aside from the generous towel gift — but instead, his attention is captivated by his companion, who in complete contrast to himself, seems to be more clothes than body as she comes into focus.

It doesn’t feel right to say she’s wearing her red robe — it’s more like she embodies it, as it moves subtly to indicate her posture, her emotions, rather than to conceal them. What little of her that isn’t a robe is ablaze, but not violently — if Barry only had one word to describe her, he would simply say warm.

Her eyes are negative space amidst the flames, darkness where one would expect unbridled light, but there’s nothing sinister about them — more of a fascination, if anything, evident as she locks her gaze with Barry’s.

He’s been staring, hasn’t he? And she’s been staring at him.

He expects the sheer embarrassment of this whole situation to catch up to him any second, but it just doesn’t hit him. There’s nothing uncomfortable about sharing the room with her.

“Hi,” he says, giving a little wave. “I don’t know how I got here, but… I like your robe.”

She bursts into laughter, illuminating the cave in an ever-changing pattern of red, orange, and pink — and Barry can’t help but wonder if there are a few tears in the mix too, given how hard it is to tell on a face made out of fire.

“Oh, babe. Oh, Barry. Of course you would.” She brings a spectral finger to Barry’s face, evaporating a droplet of water with a single touch, but the warmth that rushes to Barry’s cheeks has nothing to do with the temperature of her hands, only her touch itself. “Sit tight for a second, babe. I’m gonna grab something you’ll like.”

Babe? He’s paralyzed for a few seconds, the word echoing in his head as she floats across the room, sifting through piles of scrolls, jeans, and miscellaneous other items that couldn’t be further from naturally occurring in caves. Does she know me? Does she like me?

He’s finished drying himself off by the time she returns, holding a second red robe — and a corporeal one, no less. She drapes it over Barry’s shoulders, and he slips his arms into the sleeves without thinking twice.

It’s cozy, but something about looking down at himself wearing it brings a fuzziness to his mind that’s not nearly as comfortable as the fuzziness of the fabric. He focuses his gaze on the ghostly woman instead — who makes his mind turn to static in her own right, but in a way that’s more than balanced out by the joy of just looking at her.

“See, we both look good in red,” she says with a wink, and Barry feels the temperature of his face rise another degree or two. He’ll wind up on fire like she is, at this rate. “You’ll want to sit down. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. Um, I think… I might be just a tiny bit amnesiac? Like, just a little. ‘Cause I know who I am, but you sound like you know me, and I don’t know you.”

He takes a deep breath, and decides there’s no harm in admitting what she’s surely already noticed. He’s been too confused to try and be subtle. “Also, I definitely just fell in love with you a couple orders of magnitude faster than I thought I’d ever fall in love with anyone, so that’s, uh… cool, but weird?”

The lower half of her face brushes his forehead — not quite solid, but not unpleasant — and he realizes just as soon as it’s over that it must’ve been a ghostly kiss.

“We were gonna ease you into the ‘us being in love and you losing your memories’ thing,” she tells him with a chuckle, and Barry’s too giddy to even wonder what she means by we. “Lay out the groundwork first. We should’ve known better.”

“My bad?” Barry blurts out, and that makes her laugh even harder, until embers are dripping from her eyes like glistening teardrops.

“Oh my god. This must — this must be so much for you, babe, so much to take in. How are you doing it? How are you — taking this so in-stride, and still sounding so much like you, I mean?”

“I mean… I wouldn’t know,” Barry admits. It is so much to take in, and he knows that if he’d woken up here all alone, with no idea how he’d arrived, then he’d be a mess by now — and not the hopeless romantic kind. As it is, he’s holding it together, trying not to think about his headache and taking comfort in the more pleasant of realizations — but he’s still adrift and disoriented, clinging to a figure he can’t remember his reason for trusting. “It — it doesn’t quite feel real, to be honest? Like, I — I believe you, I believe that I loved you — but it’s the forgetting that gets me…”

He can see himself falling in love, but he can’t see himself falling in this kind of love quickly. This soaring feeling in his heart could only be propelled by years of incremental intimacy, years that he can remember none of, years that don’t exist according to the static roaring inside his head. “How could I forget all this?”

She hugs him in a way unlike any hug he can remember, overlapping with the space he occupies until he’s engulfed in gentle flames, and the threads of her robe feel like they’re what’s doing the hugging, having reformed and rewoven themselves around his arms. Not knowing how else to embrace her back, Barry wraps his arms around his own chest, and feels her presence grow warmer still.

He can just barely wrap his mind around the thought that the warmth coming from his own chest might be borne of subconscious familiarity.

“You still have a big obvious head-over-heels crush on me, don’tcha?” she teases, her laughter surrounding him. “Nothing can make you forget that.”

“Yeah, every version of me’s a hopeless romantic. We’ve got that,” Barry admits. “But I — I don’t even remember your name —”

He would know it if he heard it, he’s sure; it’s so close to the tip of his tongue that he’d probably blurt it out instinctively, if only he didn’t always think so hard about his words before saying them. It’s so tantalizingly close, and he wants to know it again, to say it again, more than any other favor the universe could grant him, and doesn’t the universe owe him at least this much —

“Well, I know how to fix that.” She withdraws from the hug, remaining at his side. “And I think it’ll help if you hear it from yourself — if you hear all the truth we can give you, that is.”

She extends a hand, and a simple golden coin flies across the room to land in her palm. It’s embossed with a vaguely familiar rune that Barry can’t translate, but his mind really starts to reel when she places the coin in his hand, and he hears his own voice emanate from it:

Your name is Barry Bluejeans. You are afraid of the dark. Your very favorite thing in the world is swimming in very cold water on a very hot day, but you cannot remember who taught you to swim, or why you’re always so much more scared of the dark at the end of the year.

The beautiful undead woman next to you is named Lup, and as much as it pains you to realize, you have forgotten her, too. There are fundamental truths about the world, about your loved ones, and about yourself that you have been blocked from comprehending — you’ve had more stolen from you than you realize, and there are very few ways to undo it.

Barry, I’m you just moments ago, and I’m about to forget so much. But right now, I remember, and Lup can help you remember too.

Another voice joins the recording — Lup herself, who sounds just slightly different than she has today, just a little less burdened.

If you haven’t guessed from how this nerd talks about me — Her words are punctuated by an affectionate grumble from Barry — we’ve been dating longer than you can imagine. I wish we could just —

You also can’t remember that Lup’s as much of a nerd as you are, Barry, his past self interrupts. You met because you were both nerds.

Oh, come on, you’ll still be smart enough to figure that one out by yourself! But like I was saying, we had a hell of an epic love story I wish we could just tell you — but you wouldn’t be able to understand much of it, and you’d get a headache trying.

So, Barry adds, we thought about what would be the next best thing. And I think we got a pretty good idea.

A classical music piece fades in, beginning with a piano but quickly adding a violin. Barry can’t put a title or a context to the tune, but he recognizes it from the first note and starts tearing up by the third. His fingers tap out a pattern in sync with the piano part before he even realizes they’re doing it, and when he closes his eyes to let the music wash over him, he realizes that the Lup of the present, the Lup at his side, is almost imperceptibly humming along with the violin.

“You’ll remember this again,” she promises, choking up, when the tune eventually fades. “One day.”

Already, the music has stirred ghosts of memories, fleeting emotions, that Barry can almost imagine in context — quiet moments, private conversations that no one could rip away from him because no one else but Lup ever knew they’d happened — and that day feels close, reassuringly so.

Like him falling for Lup again, it feels like an inevitability.