#i have so many ideas now the urge to CREATE

[her-canine-teeth]

girls just wanna have fun by cyndi lauper

[cosycafune]

I'LL GET YOU PREGNANT!

3.7k words. satoru has a natural way of repelling your ex; he wants to fill your womb with his baby. he hates knowing he's shared you in the past, so he wants to claim you. right now, he wants nothing more than to fill your womb -- scaring away your stalker ex, suguru geto.

a synopsis of acts: creampies, breeding kink, rough sex, spanking, unprotected sex, teasing, head, nipple play, nipple biting, lactation kink, missionary, slight choking, slightly mean satoru, stalking, reassurance and marginally more.

"Sato', Suguru won't stop calling me!" Slightly irritated, you voice your thoughts to an intrigued Satoru -- observing a mischievous smile adorning his lips.

"How many numbers does he have?!" Bellowing, Satoru casts himself into cuddling your chest further -- contently pulling from your sucked-dry nipple.

"I don't know, Sato', but i don't know what to do for him to leave me alone," Running your fingers through Satoru's headbanded hair, you softly groan at him beginning to latch upon your nipple once more.

"I have an idea, but only if you're okay with it," Suggesting something so smugly, comfortably biting down upon your nipple, Satoru's eyes gleam at your subtle wincing.

Idea, huh?

"How about we make a film?" Halting at Satoru's lewd question, he poses himself into leaving your almost bare lap.

"A sex tape for...him?" Pouting, sitting upon your wavering knees, you question a mischievous Satoru. Dishevelled, Satoru lovingly spots one of his fangs -- his cerulean eyes clouded with lust.

"Yeah, I'll stuff you so fucking good, he'll only think of me when he sees you," Grunting, visibly flaunting his prominent erection, Satoru's proposal comes out in a strained manner.

"Tell me more," Teasing a flustered Satoru, you puff out your cheeks, pressing your ample breasts together -- flaunting Satoru's ropes of saliva sliding down their tauntness.

"Fuck! 'Can't I just show you? You're being mean," Whining, messily drawing nearer to you, Satoru abruptly burrows his fingers into your supple hips.

"Of course, you cry baby," Elegantly speaking, you cast yourself into glancing up at a towering Satoru -- gasping at his deft finger burrowing into your doughy bum.

Shit, you knew he'd ruin everything you have to create that damn film. Hm, perhaps he'd get you pregnant?

"Don't cry when it's too much," Warning you, Satoru hungrily licks his fang -- his eyes lowering in an overwhelming trance of yearning.

"Go your hardest," Flustered at your proposal, you vigorously batter your eyelashes -- your lips stammering at him harshly fondling your breast.

"'Can't wait to break you, little lady," Enthralled, Satoru's thundering heartbeat paired with his statement -- leading his steering fingers to further squeeze your love bite-invested breasts.

"C'mon, show me how you'll make a film, film maker," Further egging Satoru on, he greedily tightens his hold upon your nimble hips -- journeying towards your shared bed.

"Let's do it on your phone," Satoru eagerly mumbles, roughly settling you upon the plush bed.

“Whatever you want!” Unable to protest against Satoru’s advances, you whine at his ample fingers further lifting your parted shirt. His shirt that he comfortably piles upon a gentle you.

“So obedient,” Drawing your bucking hips nearer, Satoru retorts — basking in your realms of desperation.

“P-Please,” A wailing mess, you’re incapable of resisting Satoru’s gruff fingers taunting your nipple — skimming over the beauty of it.

“Nah, let me get your phone first,” Barely shifting from a partially exposed you, Satoru’s announcement ruffles your abdomen.

“‘Just gonna leave me here?” Neediness adorns your question as you greet his gaze, squishing your massive breasts together — arching at the sensitivity.

“Don’t start something you’ll regret,” Cocikly speaking, Satoru intakes your primal urges, pushing himself further pressing against you.

Calculated, Satoru casts himself into reaching over you — grasping your phone beside your plush pillow. Rather embarrassed, you insincerely push yourself into attempting to steal your phone away from him — only for him to designate a hand of his over both of your own.

“Got you,” Rough, untimed growls free themselves from Satoru’s gentle lips — leading to him drifting his curled lips nearer to your own.

“Hgh!” Gasping at Satoru’s swiftness, you arch mercilessly at Satoru drifting his glossy lips towards the curve of your ear — biting down contently.

“Now, let me put the phone up before I get too carried away,” Contently cooing, Satoru lovingly gazes at your fluffy wallpaper with him — swiping right to access your camera.

“Baby, you sure you wanna film this?” Smitten, Satoru’s tender inquiry vibrates within your ears — all whilst he settles your phone against your cosy nightstand.

“Shit, do whatever you wanna do to me,” Crumpled beneath a persistent Satoru, you mutter helplessly. Arched perfectly, Satoru basks within your arising breasts — strapping your toned legs around his sculpted hips.

“Anything?” Enamoured, Satoru’s questioned disbelief is illuminated through his shimmering eyes.

“Anything.” Consoling Satoru, Satoru callously grunts at your spilling breasts — darting towards them before streaking his covetous lips closer.

“Again, Sato’?” Questioning Satoru, you hazily glance at him. The momentum of your physique is trapped and warmed at his impeccable, caging warmth.

“Be happy that I haven’t gotten you pregnant yet,” Teasing you, Satoru’s words slur narrowly while his lips brush upon your perky nipple, “‘Would have sucked all the milk out of them.” Gasping, incapable of suppressing the thudding between your rutting, thunderous cunt, your lips part.

“Oh, Sato’,” Lovestruck, you cutely coo. Your admiring eyes are adhered with an undeniable array of thumping hearts.

“Speak,” Prominent roughness fills Satoru’s possessive command. Unwilling to soften heavily, Satoru curiously twirls your nipple between his teeth — his sadistic eyes cruel with desire.

“‘Let you suck all the milk out of them! Ah,” Whining, arching busily, your confession is followed up with Satoru harshly biting your taut nipple.

“Would you now?” Taunting you, Satoru mellowly draws back from caging you — glancing at your physique from the camera’s perspective.

“Anyway,” Pouty, the tension within your tone dissolves at Satoru latching upon your aching nipple — soothing the wicked discomfort he enabled.

“Baby, at least smile for the camera,” Mockingly placing his vast, veiny hands against your supple cheeks, Satoru squeezes them while he patronisingly speaks.

“C-Can’t smile, haven’t made you feel good, yet,” Pleading to at least give Satoru blissful head, you flutter your lashes before him — frowning with impatience.

“Good, huh?” Commenting on your hushed, indirect request, Satoru uses his thick thumb to softly pry open your lips — observing the lewd sound fall from them.

“Mhm,” Silenced voluntarily by Satoru, you obediently reign your tongue upon his finger — arising an ounce of sexual control.

“Hm? You wanna do that to my cock? Take it like you’re taking my thumb?” Groaning, boyishly grinning, questioning you, an overpowering smile floods Satoru’s careless lips.

Mewling while Satoru shoves his large thumb further into your mouth, you allow your eyes to swirl with his own. Naturally, you're sure to not embarrassingly choke. Longing for advanced bodily contact, you gently grind your hips upon his crotch — bubbles forming against your lips as you frantically suck.

“Mhm,” Moaning with sinful yearning, you’re unwilling to halt the pacing of your hips — consumed by Satoru’s gruff whimpers staining your ears.

“You’re being disobedient, my love,” Satoru’s statement is filled with an edge of threat, leading you to continue your streak of disobedience — longing for a punishment.

“Mmh!” Ruffled with a string of irritation, Satoru deprives your lips of his thumb — tempted by the lewd, gasping you free.

“D’ya really think you have control now?” Grinning sadistically, Satoru softly grasps your hips — contorting you, so you are directly on all fours.

“Yeah,” Provoking Satoru broadly, you naively wobble your bubble butt — squealing at Satoru’s fingers wandering against the jiggly, tasty surface.

“Wouldn’t want your ex to see you so disobedient, my love,” Purring within the shell of your ear, Satoru erases any sense of space between you both — harshly grinding his monstrous erection against the outline of your chubby cunt.

“‘Need you, though,” Countering Satoru, your lips stammer. Blanketed with control, Satoru contorts his free hand into grasping your breast from beneath.

“Be a good girl and wait,” Satoru’s tone vibrates against your arched back, only before he abruptly pulls back from a moaning you — droning with craving.

“‘Can’t be gooddd—” Lewdly whining with dragged-out sentences, you attempt to fuel your deprivation with the vacant air.

However, shifting your curved hips with determination, you softly whimper at the cool air tinting your bubble butt. Dazed within your heated trance, you loudly gasp and curl inwards while Satoru harshly spanks your vulnerable skin. Biting back your distorted pleasure, your fists curl swiftly — lust loitering so artlessly in you.

“Fuck, Sato’!” Bellowing gleefully, unable to contain your smile, you readily arch yourself — waiting for his stout fingers to abuse your obedient butt.

Shit, he loved the sight! The scattered element of your mind and pounding heart lulled him, with it helplessly placed for him. Viewing you, sexually frustrated, your frilly underwear strained between your dripping folds, swaying back and forth, stole away his self-restraint. Yet, for your sex tape to be lengthy, Satoru knew he would have to cunningly deprive desperate you.

“‘Need you to ride my face, you’ve earned it,” Rewarding you with one last harsh spank, Satoru spews his ironic statement — running his fingers against your thin underwear strip.

“Yes!” Desperation swirls within your gasping tone, pushing you into gathering a slither of obedience.

“I dangle pleasure in front of you and you act like this?” Softly chuckling, Satoru’s question is disregarded by a buzzing you. You who’s mentally conquered by his presence beginning to lay before you.

“Of course,” Breathless with your sexual craving, you admire Satoru’s eyes, watching your strained features inching closer to him — trembling with anticipation.

“You’re so cute,” Satoru voices his precious fondness for you, enamoured by your limbs crawling enough to settle upon his prodding crotch.

“Thanks, Sato’,” A curl of vulnerability blankets your speech, pushing you into descending lower — longing to capture Satoru’s lips.

Carved by adoration, you softly disregard Satoru’s vast shirt that you sport — comfortably bearing your lithe skin before his eyes. Hypnosis endows an enthralled Satoru, restricting his breaths whilst you lower your head — in hopes of greeting his swole lips. Nonetheless, he took the scarce time to admire your angelic curves, your contoured abs, the ample mountains your breasts imitate, and the adorable nervousness you flaunt before him.

“‘Just for me,” Coddling this known fact, Satoru mutters about how you’re all his — nurturing this truth within his mind.

“I’m all yours, Sato’,” Adjusting yourself upon Satoru’s crotch, you admit your heart — content towards your breasts smashing against his nude chest.

“I’m grateful,” Fluffed with glee, Satoru returns your amount of gratitude — moulding his thick fingers around the curve of your jaw.

“C’mere,” Possessive, Satoru softly commands you — pressing his lips upon your own.

“Mhm,” Moaning frantically, shifting slyly, you groan at Satoru grasping at your ass cheeks — snapping your underwear band upon the doughy surface.

“‘You like that?” Teasing you, Satoru sculpts his free hand into pulling down your underwear — listening to the slickness of it.

“All of it,” Nodding frantically through your approval, you fall into Satoru’s rhythm — allowing him to disregard your drenched underwear.

“Let’s see how you like this,” Satoru says, mischief adorning his demeanour.

Thrilled, drilled into with patience, Satoru gestures for you to shift higher up. Beaming, licking his enchanted lips, Satoru’s eyes soften towards you nervously drifting your pooling cunt further up his burly chest. Everything within him could sense the apprehension that consumes you, rooted in you knowing you won’t be able to control yourself. Nothing within you longed for the two of you to hold back, completely twisting dry everything you both could offer.

Composing yourself, completely forgetting about the perched camera, you allow Satoru’s briefly deprived lips to draw nearer to your folds. Mesmerised, Satoru persistently lowers a hesitant you — his broad tongue warm against your vulnerable cunt.

“I know you don’t want to hold back, sweetheart,” Egging you on, Satoru murmurs with ruggedness — his skilled fingers parting your present folds.

“‘Can’t hold back, baby,” Whining in a high-pitched voice, Satoru effortlessly pulls you down further — stationing your writhing folds against his adjusting lips.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart, you’ve got a show to put on,” Eagerly informing you, Satoru hungrily latches upon your grinding cunt — his lips sucking upon your sensitive clit.

“‘C-Can’t, Sato’,” Gasping through your stuttered response, you bury your shaky fingers through Satoru’s silky hair strands — mindlessly grinding.

“Ah!” Your features scrunch up with each of your bellowed moans. Your consciousness stirs away from you with each hungry suck from Satoru.

Expressing his pussy feasting skills, Satoru propels himself into widening out the span of his tongue — licking desperate stripes towards your entrance. Unable to pry himself off of you, Satoru greedily latches upon your tender clit — thriving off of you moaning with glee, a desperate smile paving your beautiful face.

“So, so, beautiful,” Subconsciously reciting his praise, Satoru steadies your hips — unwilling to allow your faltering self to collapse.

If he was correct, you were seconds away from embarrassingly finishing.

“‘Too much, Sato’,” Moaning with budding tears, you continue to smother Satoru with your chubby cunt — so in love with the way it kisses his eagerly sucking lips.

“…” Silence envelops Satoru while he messily slurps up his lengthy saliva strings from your cunt, curling into the idea of you being completely unable to handle his ample tongue.

“Look…at you,” Murmuring with satisfaction, Satoru grins at your array of clustered moans — fulfilled at you mercilessly grinning in pleasure.

“Ngh…warm,” Foolishly finishing so quickly, you continue to grind your helpless lips against Satoru’s face — grasping your left breast.

“You finished?” Taunting you, Satoru strategically flees from beneath your thighs – groaning.

“Mhm,” Nodding with satisfaction, you glance at a primal Satoru – eagerly licking his lips.

“‘Sure you don’t want something, Sato’?” Innocently questioning Satoru, you shudder at the possessiveness that tints his gaze.

“Right now, I need that pussy,” Satoru eagerly announces, dragging you nearer to him by your toned hips.

“Strip, Sato’,” Pushing your lips together, you lightly command him – aware that he’s in control.

“So eager, huh?” Taunting you, radiating dominance and fondness, Satoru narrows his eyes at you.

“‘Need more,” You whiny say, nakedly sitting upon your knees – feeling a subtle power imbalance.

“When you look at me like that, how can I say no?” Teasing you, Satoru draws nearer to you. Consistent, Satoru disregards his tight shirt – revealing his extremely toned, rippling abs.

“Aw,” Grinning with awe, you admire each of Satoru’s toned muscles – in extreme awe.

He always rendered you into a flustered state.

“Won’t be in awe soon, baby,” Satoru teases you, swiftly disregarding the rest of his clothing – allowing you to relish his nudity.

“Hmmm,” You tease, consumed by an expanding array of lust.

“Ready, baby, to truly make a film?” Cooing, Satoru questions you – so close to disregarding his underwear.

“So…ready,” Obediently speaking, you gulp – lulled by Satoru’s angelic physique.

Mesmerised, exhibiting the traits of a sailor, you admire Satoru’s pre-cum stained underwear – enthralled by the ample bulge that lingers. Eagerly glancing, your heart pounding against your nude breasts, you admire Satoru’s intense teasing.

“Be patient, sweetheart,” Muttering, Satoru lustfully looks at you – slowly allowing his underwear to slip down his jacked leg muscles.

“‘M trying,” Whining, you grow a little teary. Each of your limbs contorted with lust, yet Satoru held a heavy dominance over you. A heavy one that you wouldn’t disregard; you’re his.

“Baby, I’ll let you have it,” Satoru announces, letting you admire his ample, colossal cock – consumed by its largeness.

“Need it, now,” Trembling, you instinctively lay upon your bed – posing heavily for a towering Satoru.

“Mhm, you’re so good for me,” Praising you, Satoru uses his deft hand to pull your hips closer. Adrenaline, lust and love adhere to him at your meek gasps, your slight shying away, your parted thighs and your wavering eyes. They etched at his sanity, leaving him to instinctively long to be inside of you, enveloped by your warm, love-pouring cunt.

“Yeah, but you're better inside,” Countering Satoru’s praise, you yelp at him grasping his monster cock with one hand – rubbing it against your soppy folds.

“I’m not even inside and you're sensitive,” Proving Satoru’s worded point, you moan at your folds sucking in his tip – gushy at feeling Satoru’s cum-coated cockhead.

“P-Please, Sato’,” Cum-driven, you plead with Satoru – shedding your dignity.

“Anything for you, baby,” Flustered at Satoru’s low statement, you conceal your fanciful moan. You’re ruled by Satoru’s cock teasing your fluttering entrance, taunting you.

Knowing the camera’s positioned perfectly, you wickedly gift Satoru a half-smile – flustered at his gruff brow rising. His perfection completely stole away your resolve, leaving you wanting your brains fucked out stupid and pulverised. Nothing within you longed to remain as sane as you did now, not cock-stricken.

“Prepare yourself, baby,” Satoru’s warning causes prompts you to smile, only to arch towards his cockhead beginning to slip into you – stretching and splitting open your cunt.

“Ohh, yes!” Instinctively, your eyes roll back with your mewling – leaving your fingers to grasp your bedsheets.

“S-So…warm,” Humming, Satoru gifts you an experimental thrust – burying you with his cock to the hilt.

Moaning loudly, decimated already, you're breathless. Your choppy breaths cut through the ambience, and your gasping floods Satoru’s ears as he cages you with his body. Whilst he cunningly sinks deeper within your life-altering cunt, Satoru’s eyes flutter while he maintains eye contact.

“‘Can…feel it,” Filled to the brim, your walls conquered, you’re dazed as you tell Satoru – drooling.

“Only for my…princess,” Gleeful, Satoru spews his love – unable to keep his cloudiness in check.

“C’mon, move…Sato’,” Encaged by Satoru’s warmth, you plead for him to move. The tips of your ears are so painfully warm and tingly, representing your inhumane heart rate.

Beaming, Satoru begins to set a slowed pace – relishing the warmth that wraps around his snug cock. Groaning and whimpering, Satoru begins to steady his hips – slowly thrusting and kissing your walls with his cock.

Glee pampers Satoru, casting him into sporting parted lips – moaning in pleasure. His pillowy lips part before you, prompting him to maintain eye contact. Seeing your features scrunched up in pleasure, handling his large cock, slightly hiccuping, completely tore into Satoru’s wavering self-restraint.

Hindered by his primal urges, Satoru begins to harshly thrust within you — animalistic at your extremely loud moans. The way your jiggly breasts bounced, your eyes forcefully rolled back, your fingers barely able to scratch his back, consumed him effortlessly.

“Sato’! Yes! ‘So good!” Distorted, you spew lewd sounds. You’re completely enveloped by the skin slapping and the soppiness of your pounded cunt.

It was too good for you to feel embarrassed.

“Mhm, you take me… so well,” Praising you, Satoru roughens his pace — slamming his cock inhumanely within you.

“Ah! Ngh!” Suffocated by Satoru’s warmth, your head swims with each harsh thrust — pulverised by his fat cock.

“Fuck! So warm,” Purring, Satoru grins with pleasure — breathless as he destroys your cute cunt.

Seeing it obediently squelch for him, building a ring of white — on the camera — made him feel pride. Shit, you were moments away from becoming marked by him — obedient and cock-driven. Fuck, he claimed you so hard — stretching out your singing cunt.

“You…deserve some kisses,” Nodding at Satoru’s hazy declaration, you’re out of it — drool slipping from your moaning lips.

Eager, Satoru transfers his sexual resolve into affection — pampering you with kisses. However, he feels slight unease — as if he’s being watched. Watched by someone by your bedroom window.

Slyly looking towards the penthouse window, Satoru notices long, raven locks and a tall man. A tall man he knows is Suguru, observing the intimate encounter between you and Satoru—infuriated.

“Sato’, gonna… cum!” Hiccuping, crying, you sluggishly announce your words — passionately clenching around his divine cock.

“Ah! Baby, give…me a show,” Satoru moans out, ruled by your cunt fully swallowing him up — warming him with your loved pussy walls.

“C-Can…feel you!” Teary, marked with pleasure, you’re rocked by Satoru’s pleasurable thrusts — feeling him harden immensely.

Bucking into you hungrily, Satoru’s choppy breaths flood your ear. Wavering, he fucks you harder — listening to the desperation from your gushy pussy. You’re unable to breathe, stolen away by Satoru’s cock. Your every thought is eaten away by Satoru’s cock, pulverising you and making you his own.

“Show me…you’re mine,” Turned on, Satoru grunts into your ear — observing every one of your pleasure-induced expressions.

“Ngh!” So sensitive, you continue to pleasurably cry — unable to control your rolling eyes. All you could mutter is incoherent phrases, destroyed by Satoru’s rough and rhythmic pace.

Exhausted, trembling, an unbearable warmth adorns you. You attempt to push Satoru away, overwhelmed by the weight of his athletic body, his beautiful thrusts and his intense stare.

“T-Too…Ah! much, baby?” Barely able to speak, Satoru questions you through grunts — his eyes rolling at you swiftly finishing.

“Sato’!” Ruled with pleasure, you shakily cling to Satoru — crying as you finally release.

“He could… never,” Gleefully, Satoru lazily speeds up his unfathomable pace — his words slurred.

With lowered eyes, Satoru makes eye contact with a crimson Suguru. Suguru’s infuriated with Satoru’s wicked claim on you, so deeply within you, terrorising and pulverising your gushy cunt.

Cruelly, Suguru could hear each sound you release, the lewdness of your pooling cunt, each cry you release and each reassuring kiss you share with Satoru. Further stealing you, Satoru gifts him a boyish grin — hardening effortlessly within you.

“‘Gonna…cum,” Warning you, Satoru gifts you a loving kiss — thrusting his deepest within an arching, gasping you.

Even fucked, you still have small resolve.

“In…side!” Desperately, you proclaim — wrapping your legs around Satoru’s toned waist.

“Imma… put a baby in you,” Watching you nod at his words, Satoru holds his deep thrust — his eyes fluttering.

“C’mon,” Croakily speaking, you loudly moan, “Yes!” Lovestriken, you gasp at the intensity of Satoru’s cumshot.

Unable to get enough, you relish in the thick spurts of cum within you — grinning at Satoru’s pulsating cock finishing within you again. Happiness adorns you while Satoru kisses the top of your head, observing your flustered expression and scrunched-up features.

“‘Did so good, baby,” Reassuring you, Satoru beautifully pulls out of you. He displays your cum-pooling cunt to the posed camera and an observing Suguru.

“We put on a good show,” Satoru mutters, using a fragment of his cursed energy to close the curtain — shunning a seething Suguru out.

“Send…it,” Tiredly commanding Satoru, you snuggle into his array of kisses.

“Mhm, poor Suguru has already seen enough,” Taunting you, you gasp — noticing Suguru’s silhouette from your bedroom curtain.

“Sato’!” Chuckling, you hold him closer — flustered at the spurts of cum that spew from you.

“I say, we should make more films?” Cosy, Satoru questions you — his lips tender with delight.

“Always, now let’s watch it,” Fatigued, you speak — trembling from the aftermath.

“‘Guess we don’t need to send the film,” Pouting, battering your eyelashes, you murmur.

Hmm, but Satoru knew he’d make more films with you.

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. read more.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

The Dog And The Deer

Alastor x werewolf/dog GNreader

ever since i found out alastor was attacked by dogs i awaited for a fic with a dog reader but alas i never found one, honestly love the idea so i splurged one out but im not sure im the happiest with it. also thank you to anyone who read my lucifer x reader it’s pretty wild like that many ppl liked it made my butthole pucker tbh. i hope y’all enjoy this kiss kiss

warnings: no YN, no alluding to or mentioning of bodytype/hairtype/skin colour or gender, morally grey reader(maybe?), descriptions of blood and animal death (nothing gorey yuck), cannibalism on alastors part, swearing, slowburnish, i think that’s all?

words: 4K

Alastor’s eye twitched watching as the mutt demon trotted around the hotels foyer with Angel. There was no worse stench then that of a dog. One of the few traumatic memories Alastor still holds close is the smell of wet dog along with memories of their jaws and teeth. Although, no one would ever catch him showing how uncomfortable your presence made him, that’d take away the image he’s created and potrayed throughout his nearly hundred years of being dead.

Yet as much as he hated every bit of your demonic form, he couldn’t help the slight tinge of desire to get closer to you, strange as it may be. You’re charasmatic and expressive, you let your ears and tail display the emotions you felt freely without holding back like he did. You got along with everyone at the hotel perfectly and you seemed to have a head on your shoulders; helping Charlie out with problems she couldn’t solve, and quipping back with fast remarks to insults thrown at you. Hell, you even got on Husks good side, a literal cat, a dogs worst enemy and vice versa.

Luckily no patron paid mind to the fact he always took the furthest spot from you at the table, or how his eyes never met yours in conversation, or that he never directly talked to you, more at you before walking off. No, nobody cares about his distance between himself and you, and if they did they knew better than to bring it up to him. Therefore he worried not about confronting you- that was up until this point. Watching with an unamused look, eyes lidded as he followed your figure waving bye to Angel and turning to him. You practically skipped your way over to him with a smile and he fought make the urge to get up and zip away.

You on the other hand, despite knowing his carnage good and well, respected the demon for the formalities he carried, as well as the little mortality he did have. It didn’t go unnoticed by you how much he seemingly hated you, you weren’t dense, but Charlie explained that Alastor was a generally private and mysterious overlord so you chalked it up to being his ‘thing’ paid no mind.

You will admit though, you were hoping that after a month or so of attending the hotel, he’d open up to your presence a little more. He wouldn’t. But! He still fed you when he cooked, woke you when you slept in, and kept you out of harms way as he did the other attendees, as well as escort you out whenever others were busy.

After a gossip session with Angel last night, you two concluded it was time to get to the bottom of the situation. Angel immediately went to the assumption he either wanted to fuck, or kill you, which you hoped he didn’t want to kill you, thankfully you moved along the topic by distracting Angel with other topics. You knew Angel out of anyone would be able to sniff out the fact you had the hots for the radio deer.

But that conversation is what landed you beside the radio demon on the couch, who statically crackled as you did so. “Hello Alastor, you look relaxed today, how’s everything going.” The deers eye twitched, a slight fog of black lingered up and around the couch, his smile strained and you could hear the sound of staticy disembodied voices in and around you.

You weren’t stupid to the fact he didn’t like you for sure now, but you were stupid enough to pretend you didn’t know. So you stayed smiling nervously up at him, but he simply stared forward. And after a few short moments he seemed to perk up ever so slightly snapping up and out of it. “Well my dear, i am doing just fantastic! Today has been one of leisure, i very rarely get to take those!” He exclaimed broadcaster voice in full effect, the smog and stactic zipped away as he composed himself entirely. You relaxed just slightly feeling just a little more welcomed. “That’s good to hear Al, I’m glad you get some time to yourself. You’ve done a lot with your magic for this place. Must be draining.” Alastor hummed daring to take a peak down at you.

You seemed to have all guards down around him, your canines poked out of your mouth slightly, quietly your tail thumped happily beside you, which he admittedly found to be quite adorable and idiotic why aren’t you more alert?. “You’re too kind darling, too kind. But I must go, I have to prepare my dinner.” Standing Alastor dusted himself off and swung his arms behind him, but before he could get anywhere you stood with him, your tail rapidly wagging. “Could i help?” Alastor’s ear twitched at that, his escape plan wasn’t very effective.

“Well, my dear, it’d be a little difficult, i like my meat, fresh.” His voice dropped an octave static taking over his voice, this time though he properly looked down at you, meeting your gaze. It sickened him that the first thing that crossed his mind was how enchanting your eyes are. You were a breed of demon he’d rather not associate with, and any lovey dovey emotion weakened his demonic image, and scrambled his mind with confusing emotions he’d rather not confront.

“Don’t worry Al, Vaggie told me you eat deer, i don’t really see the big deal about that one. Maybe i can try some.. oh do you hunt? I can totally catch it for you, this dog body is built for that!” You said hurriedly standing alongside him hands clasped in front of you almost like you were begging. Never would you say so, but were desperate to spend some time with him, it was stressful walking on eggshells all the time just for him.

Alastor’s eyebrows rose, he was decently pleased with the idea of a hunting partner, shrugging his shoulders he agreed, humming indifferently at you. “Follow me sweetheart, there are no deer out here!” Grinning wildely you skipped behind him, finally getting the attention you so desperately wanted from him. You mostly hid the longing to have the same attention the others got, while he literally pulled the others toward him, he kept metaphorically pushing you away. He never pulled you into song and dance, touched you, talked to you, hell half the time he wouldn’t even look at you as if you were a ghost. You also tried to interrogate everyone on his behaviour without appearing to obsessed, luckily the only one who seemed to notice this frantic questioning was Husk.

Husk was a good guy though, and took it with ease promising to not mention the sudden interest in Alastor and his behaviour. He did warn you to ‘watch your ass’ diggin into business that wasn’t your own. Outside of Husk mentioning that Alastor’s never been a fan of animals, a one off thing you barely paid mind to, the investigation left you empty handed. Nobody at the hotel really understood Alastor’s behaviour. Or Alastor in general, but you held hope they would.

“Here we are my dear,” Alastor exclamiend theatrically swinging his door open and leading you inside to the woody section of his room with his microphone positioned in the middle of your back. The furthest he’s ever gone to touch you, in truth. Focusing your eyes ahead you didn’t look around much, not wanting to be rude and stare at everything, though it was hard. You wanted to see how he liked things in his personal space, when he was all alone.

“Is this like a personal farm or something, are you like a breeder or…” You questioned quirking a brow up at him. Alastor chuckled quietly you could hear an audience echoing his laugh around the two of you. “No no, this!” He exclaimed stretching his arms out toward the greenery. “Is a glimpse straight into the forest, where the freshest of meats frolic.” Alastor looked back at you wicked grin on his face. “Ready to show me what you’re capable of, pup?”

Swinging his microphone around he then stuck it out toward the wilderness. With what he said you felt the need to impress him, so with smile and a nod you took off. After fifteen minutes, you returned. Alastor stood impatiently picking at his claws bored expression gracing his face, although his smile still present. Considering you planned to show off, you came back full demonic form on display and with two deer; one deer, sagged dead between your teeth, the other in your grasp.

Once Alastor decided to look up from his nails, he was petrified, and fought against the urge to flee like the prey he was reborn as. Alastor wouldn’t ever admit his fear directly but it was palpable, you could even smell it on him thanks to the fact you had the heightened ability to smell the stress hormones. To Alastors defence you appeared more dog than sinner at this point, a twisted mutation of what could’ve been a dog or possibly werewolf, he wasn’t sure and honestly neither were you. What he was sure of was that it made him nauseous looking at you and angry that you had that effect on him by simple existing.

Coming back to yourself, and what you’d typically look like, you dropped the deer at his feet, but he only stared at you, particularly your blood covered teeth. “Alastor what’s wrong? Uh, whatever happens in the forest stays in the forest?” You quickly say, panicking at such a display, you didn’t know him that well and visually you couldn’t entirely pick up on what he was thinking but you could pick up the way his blood rushed quicker through his veines, and how he clenched his teeth tighter than ever. “Nothing.” He snapped out fast as ever, but what shocked you most is the radio static in his voice left completely, you actually heard him.

Stepping an inch closer, testing the waters, you slowly reach out to his arm. Your gaze was locked on his eyes to try and find anything that could have given you the slightest hint at whether or not to pull away, but you found none. So crossing your fingers, metaphorically, you closed the small gap between you and him, very gently placing your hand on his arm.

Quietly you spoke. “I’m not sure whats wrong Al, but i know something’s up, and I know how you like to protect your image so don’t worry, i swear on my after life i won’t tell a soul about this.” Much to his dismay, he gave into your words of comfort, his posture falling slightly. Alastor’s smile never fell, but other parts of him did, like his ears and finally his eyes. He looked down to you and you could finally tell something was seriously fucked with how easily he let himself give in. “I was attacked by dogs before i died, is all, my dear. Ahhh, sometimes those pesky human emotions still remain present.“

“Is that why you avoided me?” You questioned putting the pieces together. With more confidence you moved a step closer to him, and he made no moves to stop you. “Yes, I apologize for my rude display, I’m not fond of dogs.” You inwardly scoffed. Dog, you were like, more of a werewolf anyways which was way cooler. “Well Alastor, what better way to overcome discomfort than befriending a dog! Than you’ll never have to worry about any dog sinner getting the upper hand!” Somewhere in that sentence was comedy gold, apparently, considering Alastor erupted into insane laughter which just had you awkwardly standing there watching as he vibrated joyfully.

Once his cackling was finished, he wiped away a non existent tear and bent toward you. With a pinch of your cheek Alastor gently shook your head side to side. “How adorable you are, someone getting the upper hand? On me? Ahah! Now i see why you and Husker get along so well! Silly little house pets, assuming such silly things.” You gently pushed his hand away a little upset by the quick switch in demeanour, not that he’s not been like this before, he was known for this. “Well, whatever, i meant well. Anyyhoo, does that mean we’re cool now?”

Al cocked his head to the side, repeating ‘cool’ to himself as if he didn’t know the word before shaking his head, and confirming that you two were indeed ‘cool now’. “Perhaps we should hunt together more often my dear, after all i’ve never had someone bend over and swear secrecy in return for nothing. You must be dying for a little bit of private time with me.” Gaping at him you watched as he turned his back and started a walking away. Snapping his fingers, the deer disappeared from your feet and reappeared on a table, big enough for two.

“Yeah right, I’d never that’s, uh, barf y’know.” You muttered collecting yourself, still a little ashamed he had seen right through you. “Come, dig in! After all this was your catch my little pet, it’d be so unkind to leave you without. Dogs do enjoy that, correct? Rewards.” Now sat across from him, your mouth fell in a flat line, ears drawn down. “Yeah, sure, just as much as deers like to be eaten huh? Why don’t you hop up on the table deer, doggy wants their reward.” You shot back, possibly a bit flirtatiously as you’d truly prefer him being your treat, your reward.

A record scratch sounded out from him, effectively causing a silence to wash over the two of you. You coughed, and a meek smile graced your face as you eyed the meat in front of you, then back to his eyes. Alastor seemed to be in quiet contemplation as he looked at you, his smile once open, now closed but his eyes relaxed signalling that he wasn’t going to launch himself over the table and maim you for what you said.

You both sat watching each other seeing as he made no movement or noise. The silence made your worried mind wander, while other parts of your mind foolishly wondered if what you said sparked any particular interests in him.

After all, you believed it was pretty hard to miss the double entendre there especially when you purred it out to him like a horn dog succubus. Sitting up straighter in an attempt to conceal your anxieties, you met Alastors calm gaze that never strayed from your form. It was like he could see straight into your mind and your heart kicked up with the worry of ‘could he read fucking minds.’

“So! I’ve seen you and the spider have gotten along swimmingly. Tell me, why does such a shy thing like yourself prance around with such a fellow? One that draws unruly attention wherever he goes?” Alastor finally broke the silence materializing a fork and a knife to dig into his meat. You were relieved the tension finally broke and you could move past the comment, for now. However bringing up the topic of Angel seemed quite calculated on his part.

“Angels amazing, especially when you get to know him Al. Plus, he knows what it’s like to be pushed around by men, he never puts me in the position where i’m the target of some sleazes desire.” You rant turning the dead deer towards you, not bothering to ask for cutlery as you planned to dig in- claws and teeth. “Hm, i suppose that could be true my dear, but i can’t help but be skeptical seeing how utterly opposite the two of you are.” You waved a hand lazily, ripping into the deers leg and nawshing down.

“I don’t even know what you mean by that.” Alastors eyebrows quirked at your rude gesture, that being speaking with your mouth full, but he wasn’t too surprised as he reminded himself you were just a dog. “It’s as clear as a sunny day pup! You are so unsure of yourself! Oh my, I just love watching you shrink into yourself at the sight of any demon outside the hotel. One of my favourite past times is walking around the ring with you as you shake like a chihuahua that lost its mother!” You watched mouth full as he threw his head back and laughed, again, quite theatrically.

The laugh track sounded with him as he did so, his ears perked happily, hand draped over his heart. You couldn’t be mad at what he said when he just looked so, adorably goofy. Obviously you hated being in hell and near other sinners, they were gross the majority of them wanted to harm you in some way, so you weren’t bothered at all that he could tell you were afraid of them, but you were curious as to why he decided to steer the conversation this way.

“Well Alastor, we’re all afraid of something. Oh and by the way- even though you only come to watch me cower- i still enjoy whenever we go out together.” You admit switching between inspecting your meat and looking at Alastor as he ate his. Alastor covered up the shock that he felt by taking a few silent bites. Briefly he reflected on what there was to like, after all he barely spoke to you during the outtings, he always walked fast and slightly ahead of you so you were always racing to catch up, he couldn’t find a single reason you’d enjoy being with him.

“Do you?” He finally inquired his head falling to the side, looking up to him you nodded, swallowing before speaking this time. “Yeah, truthfully it’s entertaining to me too. Watching everyone around us move away from you, whisper n gossip about you, all while you pay no mind with your head up, unbothered. Oh! And your radio too, I am not sure if you notice, but when you hum your radio just hums out with you, it’s nice especially since i’m too afriad to put in a headset. Oh and of course, you make me feel safe.”

Leaning forward slightly, Alastor placed his silverware down and placed his elbows on the table. Behind him his tail subconsciously wagged, pleased to hear that you had felt safe with him. It was an unusual emotion that sparked through his chest and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. It made him feel like he was loosing control to another sinner, and that was a big no no.

Alas, Alastors curiousity outweighed his distaste for the emotion soaring through him and instead decided to full speed ahead into it. Perhaps because that felt like he in some way gained control back by choosing to breathe into it rather than run. “I’m pleased to hear that my dear,” Alastor started slowly, dragging out his words buying him time for what to say next. “Had I known before i could’ve arranged something. You do know i have quite the little posse of shadows on my side, correct?”

Alastors eyes were lidded watching you lean back in your seat ever so slightly, shadows beginning to wisp around the floor by your feet. “I didn’t think you’d do that for me Al.” Resting his head on his hand, he ‘tsked’ at you. “And why is that my dear.” The expression on your face read pretty clearly as ‘are you kidding me’ but Alastor wanted to hear you speak. “To me it was pretty obvious, up until this point I had asssumed you hated me!”

The frustrated exclamation really didn’t bother him, instead he kissed his teeth, rolled his eyes and shook his finger like a scolding mother. “Silly pup, you know what they say about assuming, it makes an ass out of you and me.” Rolling your eyes right back you cracked a smile at him. It seemed to you he was trying to banter along with you, which was progress, and made your stomach flip. “Oh shush Alastor, you absolutely loathed my presence up until you could find a use for me.”

Alastor hummed flatly, checking out his claws. “Not true.” Snapping his fingers the deer left untouched disappeared leaving the table barren. Alastor stood and undid his coat walking away leaving you hanging. Shocked by his sudden reaction, you stood the table vanishing behinfd you. “What do you mean Al?” He hung up his jacket, now left only in his vest you standing behind in patiently. Once hung up Alastor turned to you and smiled mischievously down at you. Before you could question him, he grabbed your face under your chin and grasping your cheeks.

“Oh my silly little dog, you think your form was the only thing pushing me away. No,” Gawking up at him as he invaded your space for the first time in your months of being here, he stood inches away from you forcing your head up to look into his eyes. “I admit, i’ve been dealing with more unpleasant emotions than fear. You’re quite divine, you know.”

You felt like you were melting and your heart raced in your chest and the radio demon looked down at you with a softness you’d never seen in his eyes before. His hand released your cheeks and instead he started gently caressing you, loving the way you shivered just at his touch. “You’re hard to put up with, my dear. Allow me to confess you’ve been the the most difficult sinner to rid from my mind. Silly as that may be. I have ridiculous thoughts about what you may think of me, how i look, my golly i even ponder whether you desire my presence when i push you away. I also wonder what other undeserving sinners have your attention, have their paws on you.”

As he spoke he inched closer to your face, his hand cupping your cheek while the other ghosted up your arm, barely making contact with your flesh. You felt weak at the knees as he hovered above you with suck a coy smile, his red eyes looking straight into your own. “Al..” You trailed off almost warningly, but all he did was hum lazily bringing his face even closer to yours.

You could smell his fragrance one you couldn’t fully pinpoint as one thing. Definitely a cologne of sorts, mixed with blood, deer guts, and the faintest scent of pine. “Tell me sweetheart,” Alastor started dragging his hand from your cheek to gently grabbing your neck, making you swallow. “Do you hold the same interest in me as i do you?”

He almost sounded as if he was mocking you when he asked, but you were too lost in a haze from this fucked up foreplay he had going on to notice. Instead you nodded just barely moving your head but you knew he’d see it. “Of course you do, good little pup. I noticed.” Alastor hissed out darkly before pulling you by your neck flush against his body.

You squeaked but it was hushed by Alastors lips connecting with your own. You hands flew up to his chest grabbing on for dear life. In fairness the kiss was pretty soft, but you were so shocked your body reacted a bit harshly. He kept his smile against your lips, you matching his pace unashamed at how quick you kissed him back. His right hand kept on your throat controlling how close you were to him while his other hand danced up to your head to push your lips closer to his.

Pulling away abruptly Alastor shot up straight suddenly holding you at a distance by both shoulders. Your body ragdolled to his command barely catching your footing as you were in a lovey dovey haze. “Perhaps that is enough for today! Don’t want to get carried away now! You deserve proper treatment from a gentlemen!” Broadcaster voice back in play, you winced as he tonned down his volume for quite awhile up until this point.

However your annoyance didn’t last seeing as Alastor actually wanted to go out with you, so instead you smiled up at him. “How kind of you Al, maybe we can have more deer?” Dusting yourself of invisible dirt, Alastors hands retreated behind his back. “Of course my deer sounds like a gas! But for tonight perhaps we should relax. I have to get to a meeting within the next few hours, but i thoroughly enjoyed our time today!”

Smiling at him as he lead you to his door this time his hand pressed gently against the small of your back. “I really enjoyed it too Al, especially the part when you kissed me that was my fave.” You teased watching as he looked away his ears tilting to the sides ever so slightly.

“Yes, well, i did as well. Now then! Carry on i must get appropriate, ta-ta!” He exclaimed pushing you out of his room and shutting the door behind you, and while you giddily ran off hyped to tell Angel about everything, Alastor collapsed against the door smile strained heart pounding in his chest, incredibly uncomfortable with how to deal with these emotions, but please at the same time with experiencing something he’d not felt before.

[alijuan]

Ascended Astarion is true unlike Spawn Astarion who pretends to be good for Tav

If i see that opinion again i will explode🫠

It's funny because Astarion will only approves if you persuade him not to perform the ritual.

A lot of people don't understand the concept of grey morality and it shows. Many people justify him but this type of AA fan thinks worse of him than he really is. He needs the ritual not because he's a power-hungry villain, but because he needs safety for himself and his lover. Depending on Tav/Durge's actions, he either stays with the feeling of fear (AA is still afraid deep inside, the game files confirm this) or he fights against it and becomes truly free of Cazador and fear (spawn ending). The dialogue with Durge about not being afraid is wonderful and shows difference between SA and AA.

Astarion: This little adventure of ours has taught me that we can't let our lives be ruled by fear. Or else we never really live. Astarion: I'm not afraid. Not of you, not of your darkness, and not of our future.

The point of the spawn ending is that Tav/Durge saw him as more than just an outward image of a power-hungry killer incapable of becoming a better person. But if you can't see beyond that image, he will think that he has no choice but to continue living in the world that Cazador has built for him. If you think that AA is his best ending because he is evil then you have failed to understand his whole personality.

I feel safe with you. Seen.

Despite of his love of killing (he is a vampire after all), he repeatedly showed compassion and guilt for luring people. Before the ritual, he literally convinced himself that he should kill spawn for power. Astarion rationalises this to protect his psyche, because he’s clearly not the type of guy who can sacrifice thousands of people to the devil and not feel anything about it.

Durge/Tav: This isn’t you, Astarion. Not really. Astarion: It should be.

I really like that the player technically makes the insight check and that there’s an advantage when they're romancing Astarion. Tav/Durge could see through the image Astarion was trying to create. They saw an elf whose fear prevented him from seeing all the possibilities.

Astarion: When I look at my future, anything and everything feels possible now.

Just as Astarion saw Durge not just as serial killer, but as someone who could defeat Urge and become a better person.

Durge: I am myself at last. You don't need to fear anything from me ever again. Astarion: I knew you had that sweat heart all along. I was alarmed by you sometimes, scandalised even, but somehow by your side, I still only ever saw you.

AA fans also often ignore the fact that the game has good and bad endings in the companion stories. And it's not about morality. All companion quests are literally about how the desired and obvious path leads to a bad ending. And Astarion is no exception. In a good ending, he gets the chance to heal and finally acceptes himself and his vampire nature, in a bad ending, he gives up and regresses as a person.

Spawn Astarion knows what he wants and says it. SA is ready for a relationship and sex. Ascended Astarion can’t answer the question of what he wants, so he acts as a vampire lord should. AA is literally back to the state of the first act and has started manipulating Tav/Durge through sex again (even repeating the same phrases). This is why he doesn’t really want sex (he approves if you choose the no sex option and he definitely dissociated during the sex scene) unlike Spawn Astarion who initiated it.

Spawn Astarion is the same Astarion who enjoys “murder and terror” and you can see that clearly in his “hero” ending (more like “antihero”). And this is the ending without romance, he chose it himself. And the whole idea of him pretending to be good for Tav is actually meaningless without romance.

Ascended Astarion is the same Astarion, but stuck in a black and white world of fear and domination.

SA scene ends with hope music (instrumental version of I want to live) AA scene ends with chains.

And there’s so much more. Larian specifically showed the difference between good and bad endings in the dialogues, scenes after ritual, recent updates and even the interview so people would definitely understand, but they didn't🙃 Some AA fans (especially on youtube and larian forum) are on a new level of delusion.

[blackbirdsblackberries]

"I hate the new hero" is such a brilliant fic idea! I absolutely devoured it. 

 

Especially if we throw in some angst into it. *evil laugh*

Like, what if the harassment was too much that it affected the reader’s other life?

What was at first a way for her to hide her superhero identity.. had now made her doubt her vigilante work?

 

I know the BatBoys won’t act as low to actually physically harass who they thought was a civilian student, no matter how much they hate it, but they’ll definitely make their life worse. Online harassment, endless accusations, fake rumours that caused the reader to be hated by the entire school. 

 

Until one day you had enough. As much as reader love Gotham, wanting to protect it. But you were only a student now.. a teenage with a future to strive for, a future Gotham Academy could no longer provide you. 

 

‘Are these people the ones I risk my life every night for..?’

‘What was the point..’

All kinds of self deprecating dark thoughts swirl inside the mind of the teenage girl. 

 

After some thought, you decided. 

 

“I’m leaving Gotham,” Aranea announces, sharp eyes looking down the streets of the city from the high rooftop. 

 

Red Robin almost lost his cool, a cold shudder went through him at the horrifying revelation. It was so sudden, why are you leaving? Leaving Gotham? Leaving them? Leaving him?

 

His brilliant mind moved at an almost inhuman speed, creating hundreds of possibilities for why you would come to that decision.

 

But he just doesn’t understand. “Why?” He finally let out, his voice so low he was worried you didn’t catch it. 

 

But you did. “I have my reasons.” You sigh, your brows furrowing in distress.

 

Oh, how Tim wished he could kiss your worries away. It kills him to see you so troubled.

 

“Why? Is something wrong?” He urged, his tone sounding desperate. “I swear if Red Hood did something—“

 

“No,” You shook your head, “Nothing’s wrong. At least not with you guys.”

 

“Then what is it?” He eyes you, trying to read you. “Is it your day life? Your life behind the mask?”

 

You didn’t answer, avoiding his gaze. You were too quiet, it was such a strange sight. Your eyes held a certain sadness, your smile gone. It’s killing him.  

 

Your silence gave him all the answers he needed. “Then tell me, tell me who you are. Let us help you.” He begs; he knows he’ll do anything you ask him to, and he knows his family would do the same. 

 

“You know we can’t do that.” You shook your head. 

 

Damn, this is getting too long. Haha.. I’ll stop. But yeah. It’s a brilliant idea. 

 

Imagine how crazy he’ll react if he knew that he was the cause of your worries. He was the one who hurt you. The angst will be delicious. 

STOP YOU'RE ACTUALLY READING MY MIND!!

Not to spoil too much but in future chapters Reader will start to doubt themselves and cracks will show.

Reader may also look elsewhere for places to save. After all, Gotham already has so many heroes, what's one gone?

But they can't let the optimistic sweetheart of a hero go now, can they? You know what they say, you can take the man out of the city but not the city out the man...

Who said that?! 😮‍💨

And for the third paragraph, I absolutely agree! They wouldn't stoop so low as to actually assault Reader. But that doesn't mean they can't misuse the power they have over Gotham (both in their vigilante life and real life).

Though if I were to say one name that I think would get slightly physical (passive aggressively) I would have to say Dick.

Dick is such an emotionally complex character. Damian has learnt from his past and knows better thanks to Bruce, Bruce wouldn't risk anything and would instead just verbally cause harm, Jason doesn't actually resort to violence a lot - he yells, he punches walls, etc but he has never actually hit someone without proper reason/justification, Tim is above violence while a civilian.

The way Dick would do it would be so casual though - a hug too tight, a handshake that "accidentally" breaks a finger, a hard "pat" on the back that makes you spit out whatever you're eating/drinking, small things that don't seem like much.

I also want to state that the Reader is very complex as well with how I write them. Their true personality is cautious, ambitious, kind, sarcastic, kinda cold and loyal but they either display one part too much or too little - kind, loyal and ambitious during hero work is up to 100 while cautious, sarcastic, cold is hidden at 30. Whereas while a civilian they show caution, coldness, sarcasm at 100 with loyalty, kindness and ambition down to 30-40.

I won't say much more though, again Reader is you guys so their "true" personality is up to you - this is just how they're perceived by people.

[yuri-is-online]

Ok so jadeyuu! Jadeyuu? Jade is an eel. Jade has never been in a relationship- never even got the urge. So he's kinda panicking when he finally snaps out of his little domestic daydreams only to realize. He has no idea how to actually get to those daydreams.

How do humans court? Fuck humans for a second how does his own species court??? He only know surface level (ha) shit he never paid attention beyond that cause it was "irrelevant" (he wants to go back in time and punch himself so bad. For several reasons).

So now he's trying to figure it out but heres the thing, he only has super cheesy media to work with. Bro is taking it so seriously but some of the stuff is just???

Why is sharing clothing so important?

Are flowers really that big of a deal?

Why do all these couple fight all the time? He doesn't want to fight with yuu he just wants to feed them mushroom dishes and cuddle and "cuddle" He doesn't want to fight! Why do couple always fight in these movies is it necessary?? Is it a love language??

What's a one night stand?

WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? WITH SOMEONE YOU JUST MET???

... has yuu had any? They told him once that most of their past relationships were "situationships" and he had to laugh and pretend he wasn't about to simultaneously raise hell and profusely thank your exes for fumbling so hard.

What's this about your father's consent? Does he need to get your father's consent? Would any parent work or just your father? Do you even like your father- shit you haven't even seen your father since you've been here and he's a literal world away. ....shit.

Someone stop him he's about to create an entire world wide scheme to invent otherworldly communication just to ask his not-parners dad if he can even court them in the first place-

Oh it's not that important in modern day?? Oh. Thank goodness.

At what point in this can he ask you to be his officially?

At what point can he start indulging himself in all his somewhat ugly jealous urges in public without scaring you off?

Would it be considered a "red flag" to ask you to only talk to him? He knows it is he's just holding out hope that maybe you'll agree to be kept in a large terrarium of his and be completely his and-

You would never agree to that. Oh well, an eel can dream. If Ace gets all clingy with you again he's going to break his arm off.

How long does he have to wait until he can show you to list of names he's already thought about giving your future children?

CAN HE PLEASE JUST HOLD YOU??? PLEASE!!!

Idk where I'm going with this I just got the mental image of jade watching titanic (something something convenient potion accident) and hurriedly scribbling down notes every time something romantic happens and I wanted to share that image.

I like the idea of Jade doing research about human courtship. I really really like it I think it's so stupidly funny to picture Mr. Suave, one hell of an eel butler reading human x merfolk fanfiction and going O: that's me (˶ˆᗜˆ˵) Or watching romcoms and taking notes that's hilarious. He watches titanic and nods "yes this would never happen with us, I would simply drag them into the sea and then we would live together happily ever after while everyone else drowns- ah or is that too fatalistic?"

But yes he doesn't know much about courtship in general. He can "flirt" but its not intentional on his part, he's just being snarky. But with you he has no idea what to do. The clothing thing makes no sense to him, is it to stake a claim? Then why not bite you? That would get the point across faster... is it a him thing to want to do that or is it a mer thing? One night stands are too complicated, there's too many ways for that to go wrong the only reason Jade could think to have one is if someone has information you want to steal and he's not interested in obtaining things that way. They don't owe you anything that way.

Jade with soft yan! urges he tries to tamp down because he knows they're not healthy but he just wants to protect you form the dangerous that exist in the coral sea. Even if you become a merfolk you still used to be human, soft, fragile, and so naive... really there's no end to the things that could steal you away from him. Like Ace! Now if you could please look the other way while he disposes of this pest- he jests. He would never rob you of your friends, everyone needs them and he needs you to need him the same way humans need air.

Also the sheer irony of Yuu complaining all of their past relationships being situationships when that's what they have going on with Jade right at that very moment. Maybe that was intentional huh Jade ever think of that? Maybe the pretty human was huffing at you and batting their eyes because they are frustrated that history is repeating itself and the sketchy guy their friends don't approve of is being unclear about his feelings again. He figures that out once he finally finds out the definition and he feels so so stupid

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

6A: NINE (PART 1)

Chapter 5 <MASTERLIST > Chapter 6B

SUMMARY: The Winter Soldier has been injected with a compound that has left him helpless to his desires, completely out of control.

Word Count: 6k

Warning: SMUT: Sex pollen, choking, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, creampie, dirty talk — If there is any more you find not listed here please be sure to let me know so I can add it.

In the dark and twisted world of HYDRA, the skilled scientists were pioneers in the art of manipulation and control. They had spent years perfecting their methods, creating chemicals to confuse, compounds to control and substances for submission. They could bend even the strongest will to their whim. But their latest molecule had an interesting side effect that even they hadn't anticipated.

The compound, a combination of pheromones and catecholamine, when administered, caused a sudden and overwhelming surge of desire and arousal in its subjects. It was a potent cocktail of chemicals that left the recipient in a state of intense need, the primal, innate biological urge to reproduce, that could only be satisfied through one means: sex.   

The scientists had tested the compound on many of their unwilling subjects, but it was the Winter Soldier who proved to be the most intriguing case. The super soldier, already a formidable force to be reckoned with, now found himself in a desperate situation. He needed to have sex, or he would perish.

The Winter Soldier's handlers watched with a mix of fascination and horror as he struggled against the overwhelming need that consumed him. They knew that if they didn't find a way to satisfy his desires soon, he would become a liability, a danger to himself and others. They couldn't risk losing their prized asset to something as trivial as desire.

“Kotyonok,” he whined quietly to himself, trapped in a cycle of need and desperation.

Sweat dripped off his brow, as he fought against the restraints that bound him. His heart raced, alarms sounding on the monitors that were strapped to his chest. His hips struggled, trying to create the smallest bit of friction his loose clothing allowed. All the while he begged silently for you.

It was you he needed. You were his cure. Without you, he knew he would die.

Karpov was seething. He had no desire to be the man who was responsible for the loss of HYDRA's most prized asset. He paced the facility screaming obscenities at anyone he came across, until he spotted you.

“YOU!” he yelled, pointing at you.

“Sir?”

“Come!” he ordered, stalking off and expecting you to follow.

He marched down to the clinical room where your asset was constrained. The sight of him writhing under the effects of cruel experimentation was horrifying.

“Take care of him!” Karpov barked, snapping you out of the horror you were witnessing.

You knew they used him for their own nefarious means, but this was heinous. You swallowed hard, your mouth dry. “What do I do?” you asked.

“Take care of him.” Kaprov repeated angrily.

Realization dawned on you. Karpov wanted you to get him off. Your face flushed with embarrassment and anger. How dare he demand this of you? How dare he abuse your soldier this way?

“Why me?” You looked around at all the male scientists in the room, not surprised by the lack of diversity in the room.

“Just do it!”

You glanced around at the armed guards at every exit and back at Karpov's expectant face. Did you have a choice?

As you took a step towards him, Soldat jolted on the table in front of you, making you jump.

“Hurry up!”

Those bright blue eyes stared into yours, imploring action. His face was contorted with pain, body covered in sweat and there was a sizable stain on the sweatpants covering his behemoth boner. As you shuffled closer, you caught the sound of his voice. A low whisper meant only for you.

“Please, Kotyonok.”

You had no idea what to say, how to behave. Not once in your lifetime had you been asked to service a man with an audience. You ghosted your palm over his swollen member. He was in pain and for once he couldn't hide it and it broke your heart.

You were taken aback by the openness of his request, unsure of how to respond. You had never been in a situation like this before, where someone was relying on you for such intimate assistance. But as you looked into his eyes, you knew you couldn't turn away. You had to help him, regardless of the audience surrounding you, but you didn’t dare speak to him.

Hesitantly, you reached out your hand and gently palmed his throbbing member through the sweatpants. He winced at the contact, but you could see the relief in his eyes. You knew you had to do whatever you could to ease his discomfort. 

As you continued to massage him, you could feel the tension in his body start to release. An orgasm rocked his body, and you could visibly see him relaxing, pleasure overwhelming the sensation of pain. His breathing became more steady, and the lines of agony on his face softened and you could see the gratitude in his eyes as he looked at you.

Despite the wretched circumstances, you felt a sense of connection with him. All that mattered was that you were able to provide him with some comfort and relief. You could see the gratitude in his eyes as he whispered a quiet thank you.

“Enough!” Kaprov snapped, making you gasp.

You had almost forgotten that you had an audience. As far as you were concerned, it was you and your Soldat. Karpov, however, was satisfied with your work and dismissed you. As you walked away, following orders, you glanced back at him discreetly, catching his unexpectedly darkened eyes as you left the room.

The door slammed shut behind you, but you knew your services would be needed again. You could feel it, the way he had breathed when you touched him, the way his release had come so easily, too easily. No, it wasn’t enough. They would be back, begging you to lend a helping hand, and you hoped, additional services. And you were more than willing to comply.

It had barely been an hour before a breathless young lieutenant was standing before you, offering summons from your colonel. Hiding your enthusiasm, you followed obediently. The lieutenant’s pace was swift and you were a little out of breath when you arrived back at the clinical room. Colonel Karpov was fuming, pointing at the Winter Soldier, complaining about your lack of expertise and commitment.

“What do you expect me to do?” you shrugged.

He shoved one of the scientists forward, who stammered out an explanation. “The effects of the compound create a surge in the levels of testosterone by stimulating the follicle-stimulating hormone from the pituitary gland. It results in an irresistible urge to reproduce, meaning that the only way to resolve this surge of hormones is a climax achieved by stimulation of the genitals by penetrative copulation. If this is not attained, the overload of testosterone can lead to a cerebrovascular accident, seizure and death.”

You stared incredulously at the doctor and the colonel. “Wait, so you're saying that if I don’t fuck him, he’ll die?”

The colonel nodded grimly. “Yes, that's the gist of it. We need you to help us counteract the effects of this compound until we find a way to chemically resolve the issue. We don't want our enemies using this to their advantage, do we?” 

You looked at the Winter Soldier, who was sitting there with a blank expression on his face. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his training and his own desires.

Taking a deep breath, you made a decision. “Fine, I'll do it. But only because I don't want anyone to… get hurt. And no audience.”

“Don't be ridiculous. These are perfect conditions for study, we need to-”

“No.”

“What?”

“I'm not having sex in front of them.”

“It is your duty, I command you.”

“No colonel. You will allow this. Unless you are willing to let your prized asset perish from your own negligence.”

The colonel sighed, realizing he had no choice but to agree. “Fine, no audience. But make sure you do what needs to be done.”

The colonel nodded in approval, while the scientist quickly set up a private room for you and the Winter Soldier to carry out the task at hand. As you entered the room, you could feel the tension in the air. Soldat looked at you with a mix of confusion and longing, his eyes searching yours for some kind of understanding.

“Kotyonok, it is… dangerous.”

You watched as he fought against the storm that raged inside of him. You took a step closer, reaching out to touch his face gently. "I know… but we have to do this. Trust me, I don't want to see you get hurt."

With a nod, the Winter Soldier pulled you into a passionate kiss, his hands desperately roaming your body as he sought release from the effects of the compound. You guided him backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed. It was far more comfortable than anything he had been allowed to experience, but he didn't have the capacity to appreciate the creature comforts of the abode, all he craved in that moment was you. 

You straddled his hips without hesitation, rutting against his clothed erection. They hadn't bothered allowing him a change of clothes and they were still stained with cum from his earlier release.

“How is this? Feel good?” you asked, dragging your clothed cunt over his still covered length.

“Da!” (yes!) he whined. It wasn't enough but he reveled in it nevertheless. He felt as though every single sensation, every stimulus that his body experienced was sending signals to his cock. He finally let his head fall back, to rest on the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut to fully experience the rush that came with you touching his shaft.

He moaned lustfully, low and guttural sounds emanating from his throat. “God, Kotyonok, I need you to fuck me already.”

“I know, Soldat,” you murmured softly. “I just need a minute. Then I’m going to take such good care of you. Understand?”

“Da,” (yes) he nodded, looking into your eyes, biting his lip to contain his need. “Hurry.”

The neediness in his tone was unmistakable, so close to a second climax. He felt so sensitive, the slightest touch, the smallest jerk, the finest stroke and he was tumbling over the edge into oblivion. 

He moaned softly as you felt him coming undone, his body trembling with the force of his release. His balls tightened and his cock twitched as ropes of cum pooled under his pants, warmth and wetness spreading through your clothes, making you shudder with anticipation. The scent of sweat and hormones mixed with the faint scent of gunpowder that always seems to linger on the soldier. He lifted his head to look at you, his eyes full of a mixture of relief and desire.

“This isn't going to stop until I cum inside you.” He panted, writhing uncomfortably beneath you.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you simpered. “I just needed a minute to catch up with you. Forgive me?”

“Konechno.” (of course) He reached up to touch your face, his fingers trailing gently along your cheek and jawline as he looked at you, admiring your features.

“Help me?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own desire.

You took his hand and guided it into your pants. Soldat’s breath hitched at the touch of your warmth, his fingers eagerly stroking over your slick folds. His touch was tentative at first, as if he was exploring it for the first time. After a few moments, he found a rhythm that made you gasp softly, biting your lip to hold back a louder moan. He looked at you hungrily, his gaze fixed on your face as he tried to gauge how pleasurable his touch was for you.

A low growl escaped his lips as he felt your arousal, his own need growing stronger by the second. “Now,” he demanded, his voice rough with desire.

He quickly removed his hand from your pants and pulled you close, his hands tearing at your clothes in his urgency. It didn't matter that he had torn through not only your top but your bra too. You didn’t resist, you wanted this just as much as he did, your own need growing impossible to ignore. You pulled away from his touch just long enough to remove your pants, exposing yourself to him.

He took the opportunity to flip you onto your back and until he was tucked comfortably between your legs. Luckily, this time you had nothing to hide. As he hovered over you, his eyes dark with desire, you knew there was no turning back. This was what you both wanted, what you both needed.

“Please,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from the overwhelming feelings coursing through his body. His eyes lock onto you, drinking in every contour of your exposed form. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to touch you, his thumb grazing across your collarbone before trailing down to cup your breast.

He could hear his own heart beating in his ears and yet, he couldn’t quite get over thinking how fucking gorgeous you looked, laid out in front of him. His breath was labored, as he tried to fight against the overwhelming urge to ravage you.

There was a brief pause as you stared at each other, your breaths mingling in the heated air. The moment felt charged, like something was about to explode. And as he opened his eyes and looked at you, he saw the cold metal of his hand against the skin of your neck, almost choking you. 

Your breath stuttered as Soldat’s grip tightened, the titanium of his hand cutting off your air supply. Despite the danger, you couldn’t look away from him. Your eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and anticipation, locked on his intense gaze.

His resolve faltered as you struggled slightly in his vice-like grip. Your small splutter pulled him back to the present, and he blinked as if waking up from a trance. He looked at you, his expression a mix of horror and confusion.

"Sorry, Kotyonok," he whispered, his voice sounding shaky, "I just...the compound, it..." 

He looked at his metal hand, still wrapped around your neck and let go, his fingers trembling slightly.

“No, I want it, choke me.”

His expression darkened as he heard your request, his eyes flickering with a mixture of lust and concern. He knew if he pressed any harder, you'd have bruises all over your pretty little neck and it thrilled him, his marks all over you. But his aching member begged for attention.

“Are you sure? I think you'd look much better choking on my cock, Kotyonok.”

“I think that is something we can arrange.”

“Later, need you. Need to be inside you.”

A shiver ran down your spine as you heard his words, his voice low and full of desire. Your heart raced as the realization hit you, and you quickly comply with his request, spreading your legs for him.

“You’re beautiful, Kotyonok,” he managed to get out, his voice low and filled with emotion. He brought his other hand up to cup your face, gently tracing the contours of your features with his fingertips. He leaned in and kissed you, his mouth soft and needy as he hungrily drank in your taste.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as you felt his lips against yours, the kiss filled with a raw intensity and a desperate yearning. You kissed him back, matching his hunger and need. Your hands moved to his shoulders, holding on tightly as you reciprocated the kiss, your tongue sliding against his hungrily. You barely noticed that he had lined himself up with your entrance.

“Please, hurts,” he whined, softly. A grimace marred his beautiful features. 

You frowned as you heard his plea. “I'm sorry, Milyy.” (darling) Your voice was full of concern as you touched his face gently.

When he met your gaze, you saw the pain in his eyes and realized what he meant. Your heart broke a little as you saw his expression, knowing that the compound was still affecting him and causing him discomfort. But you also knew that this was something he needed.

“Just a second,” you told him, as you moved back slightly to reach for the bedside table. There, you found a small tube of lube that the scientists provided, and handed it to him. At his questioning look, you explain. “Trust me, it will make things feel a lot better.”

It did, he slid into you painlessly, his cock coated in the cold lubricant, brushing past your clit with the most erotic ease. He hissed as you squeezed around him. 

“Fuck, so tight. Need you to relax, Kotyonok,” he whispered.

“Trying, but you feel so good. Can't help it,” you replied, breathless.

“Let me help.” He lifted your legs up and dragged you closer to his hips, tilting your pelvis upwards until his thick cock was stroking your g spot. He moved in and out, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. He was good at this, too good.

“Yes, yes,” you managed to gasp out, your voice sounding hoarse and desperate. “That's... oh god yes, right there.”

You clung to him tightly, your hands gripping his shoulders as if trying to hold onto him as he moved inside you, his movements steady and sure. The room filled with the sound of your moans and his grunts, the heat between you building with each thrust. You could feel the intensity of his desire, his desperate need burning so fiercely, you almost worried that he might break. You gripped him even tighter as his movements grew harder and more desperate. Your eyes searching his face, the look of desperation on his making your heart flutter.

“Soldat, please,” you managed to gasp between gasping breaths. “You don't have to... you don't have to fight it. Just let go for me, please.”

He took your words to heart. “Look at me.” His tone was surprisingly calm yet demanding all at once. He wanted so badly to feel you closing in around him, he wanted to feel your release, but his own was so close, charging down the tracks like a runaway freight train and even though he wanted to see you, to feel you, he couldn’t wait.

His body tightened, his movements suddenly erratic. You were close, but not close enough for him and you needed to get him there, for his sake.

“That's it,” you panted, your words full of encouragement. "Just like that, Soldat. Don't... don't hold back. Just let yourself go. I'm right here with you."

You continued to clutch his sturdy arms, letting him take what he needed from you. Soldat’s eyes met yours, a mix of fear and determination swirling in their depths. He was on the edge, teetering between control and chaos. You could see the struggle within him, the battle raging on in his mind.

As he heard the words, something seemed to snap within him. His pace quickened, each thrust deep and purposeful. His breathing grew heavy, and his eyes darkened in a look of pure... something you couldn't define.

 “So close,” he stuttered.

“That’s it, don’t fucking stop. Just let go, cum inside me.” The pathetic nod you gave him was enough, the eye contact was the thing that sent his train off the tracks.

He let out a low growl at your words, his grip on you tightening, the control slipping away. Falling, he was falling. The sounds in his throat were guttural, filled with a raw passion that went beyond mere carnality. There was something deeper, more intimate than just physical pleasure. It wasn’t just a simple desire to reproduce, he needed to mark you, to claim you fully and completely. He had finally found his release, his body quivering with the force of his orgasm. It was a moment of perfect surrender, a moment when he finally let go and completely gave in to the euphoria he was experiencing.

You felt the hot spurts of cum painting your walls and filling you more than you had ever been before. He was a tight fit to start with but you couldn’t even contain him, his seed spilled out of you as he continued to ride the waves of pleasure, marking you in a way that you had never been before.

As the intensity of the moment faded, Soldat collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy and ragged. Your legs bending towards your chest with the pressure of his exhausted weight against you. As you lay on the bed, your bodies tangled together in a messy bundle of limbs, you waited for him to catch his breath. You ran your hands through his hair, soothing him with a gentle touch. 

“Milyy (darling)?” you whispered.

"Yes, Kotyonok?" he responded, his voice still husky.

“Feeling better?”

He sighed, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “Much better. You have a way of making me forget my troubles for a little while.”

After a moment of silence, he spoke again. “You didn't?” He hesitated with the question. But you knew what he was asking.

You shook your head, meeting his gaze gently as you spoke. "Not yet... but you need this more.”

You suspected that his relief was only temporary, his calmness a result of his release. The effects of the compound still surged through his system, his heart was still pounding and you could feel him growing hard again inside you, even though he had only cum mere moments before.

"Soldat," you gasped, feeling his cock stir inside you. You could feel the heat building once more between you, the intensity of the moment reigniting your own flames. "Milyy.”

You gasped as you felt him pull out, your body shivering slightly at the loss of his warm body on yours.

"Soldat?" you whispered, lamenting your sudden emptiness.

"Shhh," he answered, his voice low and soothing. "I want to take care of you first, Kotyonok. You'll be satisfied soon enough.”

“But-”

You tried to protest but your words are cut off by the ferocity of his kiss. His lips moved against yours with a fervor and you just wanted to lose yourself in him once again.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from him. “What about you?”

"Don't worry about me," he replied, his voice low and husky. "I can wait... you first." He gently pushed you back onto the bed, his eyes dark with desire.

“But the compound…”

He nodded, understanding your concern. He knew that the compound would inevitably take hold again, but he didn't want to think about it now. Right now, he just wanted to focus on giving you the pleasure you deserved.

His hands wandered over your body, moving with a soft possessiveness as he explored your curves. “You’re so perfect…” Soldat whimpered in your ear. He latched his lips to the skin below your ear, on the nape of your neck.

As his kisses grew more urgent, the light brushes turned into hot and open-mouthed kisses that sucked at your skin, leaving a trail of fiery tingles in their wake. His tongue felt resplendent as he licked and sucked over your sensitive skin, leaving it slick and throbbing with heat. He moved over to your shoulder and back, knowing he was going to leave a mark. And you wanted it, you wanted him to mark you up, claim you as his.

You let out a low hiss as he pulled your hips into his lap, the cool metal of his titanium arm contrasting against the heat of his skin. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer, his throbbing member pressed against your ass and his breath against your neck.

He groaned as you grinded against him, his grip on your waist tightening. You could feel the heat of his swollen cock pressed against you, begging. His lust radiated off him in waves.

“Soldat?” you whimpered, suddenly lost in your own need for attention. 

“Yes, Kotyonok?” he replied, his voice low and husky. He pressed his chest against you, his hard length now pressed against your back as he whispered into your neck.

“Touch me,” you pleaded.

He obliged immediately, running his fingers over your thighs and over your folds in a soft caress. His touch started out light but quickly became more intense as he traced the contours of your wet lips, his fingers dancing over your skin like a teasing whisper.

“Pozhaluysta (please).”

His fingers slid between your lips, seeking out your most sensitive spot. He pressed against it, light touches building up to a slow tortuous rhythm.

“Oh my God, oh God! Feels so good,” you gasped out the words, fighting to maintain some semblance of control of your breathing.

The pleasure he was giving you made your hips buck reflexively and he groaned at the tantalizing build of pressure inside him. His pain was growing again, along with his longing. But he continued with their slow torture, enjoying seeing you squirm, feeling your body arching to meet his touch. The metal hand tightening, holding you steady.

He continued to work you with his fingers, watching the pleasure play across your face as you writhe and squirm, consumed by the sensations he was giving you. Despite his own desires building, he pushed them aside, his focus completely on bringing you pleasure.

He knew you were close, so close. He could see the tension in your body as you squirmed and writhed beneath him. He increased the pressure of his touches, applying just the right amount of friction to send you over the edge.

As he worked you, he continued to struggle against the pull of the compound. The need to pleasure you was almost overwhelming, but the pain he felt was starting to overtake him. He fought against it with everything he had, determined not to give in and lose himself to the darkness. His body tensed, and his breathing grew ragged as the serum took over his mind and body. His grip on you became bruising as he waged battle; his control vs the compound.

His touch faltered, his fingers trembling and slipping as the effects of the compound consumed him. Soldat's grip on you tightened even further, his eyes growing dark as his control slipped away. You lamented the loss but kept your whines to yourself.

"Milyy?" You reached back to touch his face. He tensed at your touch, his body going taut as your fingers brushed softly against his cheek. His eyes remained dark and intense as his jaw clenched, the conflict within him clearly written on his face.

"Sorry," he whined. He reached down to touch himself, stroking his length with your essence easing the friction.

"No," you replied softly, your voice gentle. "Don't apologize." You didn't want him to feel guilty for something he couldn't control.

His body shuddered at the sensation, a low groan escaping his lips as he stroked himself. He closed his eyes, his head swimming as the pleasure consumed him. He didn't care that you could see it, he just needed a release from the pain. 

You reached for him, placing your hands on his chest to stop his movements. "Let me take care of you. Just relax.”

“Net.” He held you off.

You could see the shame in his eyes as he pushed your hands away, but you refused to back down. "Let me take care of you," you repeated, your voice soft and soothing. You reached out to touch him again, your fingers gently tracing over the contours of his face. "Please."

"No, Kotyonok. I don't want to use you.”

You shook your head, your heart aching at the thought of him suffering alone. “You're not using me,” you told him. “I want to help you. I want to take care of you. Please, let me do this for you.”

Beneath the burning lust that consumed him, deep within Soldat's soul, a tender but unfamiliar feeling began to stir. It was a feeling that he had never experienced before in his life.

But the intoxicating effects of the compound were too powerful for Soldat to resist. He could feel the hunger growing within him, devouring everything else.

Soldat's eyes darkened as you shifted onto your hands and knees, your body on display in a way that stoked the fire within him.

"You look so beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You could feel his gaze burning into you, sending shivers down your spine. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in every inch with a hungry intensity.

"Please," you whispered, feeling a rush of desire coursing through you.

Soldat's hand reached out to caress your ass cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "I can't resist you," he admitted, his voice filled with longing.

His touch was electric against your skin, and you couldn't help but lean back into his touch, craving more. "Then don't," you urged, your own desire matching his. "Take me. Make me yours."

He didn't need to be told twice. He splayed his fingers across one cheek of your beautifully round ass and kneaded the muscle. “You're mine, Kotyonok. All mine.” He rubbed his cock against your leaking lips.

At his words, your body tingled with anticipation. "All yours," you breathed, arching your back slightly to give him better access.

The sudden fullness as he buried himself inside you took your breath away, and you let out a gasp of pain that made him freeze. He hadn't meant to hurt you, and he felt a pang of guilt as he saw the pain flicker across your face.

He fought against his instincts, wanting to give you a moment to adjust to his size. But the need and desire were too strong, and they overrode his guilt, leaving him powerless to stop himself.

“Kotyonok?” he stuttered.

“Shhh,” you hushed him, your voice strained but reassuring. “I’m okay. Please, don’t hold back.”

He groaned at your words, his control snapping at the sound of your voice. He was lost to his primal need, his body moving instinctively. You whimpered as he moved, the line between pain and pleasure blurred as he continued to drive into you, each plunge of his hips sending shockwaves through you. He felt so impossibly large inside you, his movements rough and uncontrolled. His relentless force drove you to the brink of release and you found yourself clinging to the bed with all your might, lost in his rhythm, your mind consumed by the intensity of the sensations he was stirring in you. Each powerful thrust sent waves of ecstasy rippling through you, each one harder and more overwhelming than the last.

For Soldat, the urge to make you his was all-consuming. Impregnating you was the only drive that mattered to his drugged body. He was close to filling you with his seed, but the small part of him that was still him, the man he was before the asset, that part that of him wanted you to share in the experience. His fingers found the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, and he began to tease it gently, massaging it in small circular motions just the way he knew you loved.

"Soldat," you gasped.

He groaned at your gasp, your voice sending a surge of desire through him. "I'm right here," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Come with me."

As the pleasure intensified, you felt yourself on the edge of ecstasy, your body trembling with anticipation. His hand continued teasing your needy bundle, his touch almost painfully sweet after his rough onslaught. It had you squeezing around him triggering his climax. And then, with a final thrust, you both reached your peaks, exploding in waves of pleasure that left you breathless and satisfied momentarily, at least for him. He felt like his heart was ready to explode right out of his chest. As he emptied himself inside you, his breath came in sharp pants and gasps alongside an instant relief from the pain inside him. 

Soldat felt overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, his emotions swirling in a maelstrom of feelings he couldn’t begin to understand and was worried he would forget. So he pulled your quivering body close to his, holding on for his life. He could feel your heart pounding against his chest, the rapid rhythm a steady reminder that he wasn't dreaming. He buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent as he tried to reign in his turbulent emotions.

The orgasmic relief from the compound was short-lived. Surprisingly, the soldier’s pain had eased after you had climaxed around him. The scientists had been precise about exactly what would remedy the effects of the compound. For now the soldier lay at ease, but he could still feel the chemicals coursing through his blood. The experiment was not over. You gave your report to the waiting scientists, advising that you would need more time to work on the asset. Karpov was surprisingly lenient with his approval.

You padded back to your Soldat, with a glass of water for him and yourself. “Here, you need to stay hydrated.”

Hearing your voice, Soldat looked up from where he sat, his body feeling strangely drained. He accepted the glass of water you were holding out to him and took a few sips, feeling a slight relief as the cool water washed over his parched throat.

“Spasibo (Thanks),” he managed to mutter, his voice gravelly and rough.

As you turned to put your glass on the table, you felt a soft palm around your fingers. His grip was firm, almost possessive, as if he was afraid you would slip away from him. Still reeling from the intense experience you had shared, he wasn’t ready to let go of the connection just yet. He didn’t speak, but his eyes held a silent plea for you to stay by his side.

“What is it?”

Soldat looked at you, his expression unreadable, his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions. He seemed to struggle with the words he wanted to say, as if the thoughts were warring inside him.

"I... I don't know," he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... don't want to be alone right now.”

"You're not alone, Milyy.”

Soldat's grasp on your hand tightened a little at your words. Your reassurance seemed to bring him a small measure of comfort, and his gaze flicked up to meet yours, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. The term of endearment you'd started using today surprised him, and he couldn't help but feel touched by the unexpected affection. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a small acknowledgment of gratitude for your presence.

“Ostavat'sya,” (Stay) he said softly.

Soldat watched as you put the glass down and climbed back onto the bed beside him. His eyes followed your every move, his gaze filled with a mix of relief and a hint of vulnerability. He shifted a little to make room, making sure there was enough space for you to join him.

As you settled beside him, he reached out to touch your face gently, tracing the contours of your cheek with his calloused fingers. Soldat wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. His body was warm and solid beside you, and you could feel his heart beating steadily against your chest. His touch was gentle but possessive, a silent reassurance that he was not ready to let you go.

You could hear his breathing, deep and steady, and an air of contentment seemed to settle over him as he held you close. Despite the weariness that seemed to cling to him, he seemed peaceful in this moment.

Soldat's grip on you remained strong even as he slept, his muscles relaxing as he let himself fully surrender to exhaustion. You felt a warmth spread through your chest at the feeling of his embrace, a sense of serenity settling over you. Gradually, you too found yourself drifting off to sleep, lulled into a deep, peaceful slumber by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the soothing feel of his body against yours.

Chapter 5 <MASTERLIST > Chapter 6B

[yandere-sins]

I feel like omegaverse has some untapped yandere potential. Of course there’s alpha and omega but I had this idea of like an omega going yandere for a beta, like it’s literally never going to be but by god they’re gonna do whatever it takes

[Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content]

Uff! It's such a dreadful madness. I can't describe it otherwise.

An omega that knows you are their one true love, their one and only, the soulmate that every omega craves on a deeper level than just what their brain or body needs. But, oh, the misery when they go to your appointment with you to find out you're not the alpha they will need to survive their urges (as they have naturally assumed) but a mere beta they can have as a friend for a while at best. Once they are bound to an alpha, there will be very little time to invest in you, and that's something the omega has to prevent at all costs.

See, normally, an alpha would take care of their omega. Would feed them, clothe them, house them. Make sure they are always satisfied and well-satiated. But if the yan wants to keep you, specifically, they'll have to step up to the position of caretaker. Society doesn't want their precious omegas to go unmated, and if they learn of the predicament of your role, they'll undoubtedly keep you away from your omega. It scares the yan into sleepless nights and even panic attacks, making them fearful and desperate because they cannot survive without you. You yan might be bound to a knot but die of a broken heart either way. They can't even imagine forgetting you and leaving you behind to be with any other disgusting, ruthless, leering alpha. They want you. Only you.

You, you, you.

So they do what they must. Suppressants here, hiding their scent there. They learn to avoid the questions and hide from potential mates until they reach their goal—money. Lots of it. Whether through legal means or much more nefarious ways, they'll save up so much that they can spend the rest of their life comfortably with you, somewhere hidden and secluded, just you two. The world always needs more videos of needy, begging omegas, and it's a small price to pay when it means they can create the life of their dreams. You don't even realize the reason behind the omega's sudden lack of time. That's how well they are hiding their identity on the internet as they become famous for your sake.

It's not a surprise that after your diagnosis, after learning your purpose in society, you slowly start to make amends with it. While your yandere is so obsessed with creating a life for you two, you just try to move on from how you envisioned your life to go. Because you know you two can't be together. And your previously best friend is never around to support you at this challenging time, so you start to find other people who care about you.

The heartbreak for the poor omega seeing their beloved beta living your life apart from them is immeasurable. Infuriating. Maddening. Here they were trying so hard to do this for you, and you just replace and discard them? Unacceptable. Totally unacceptable!

But their plan is already underway. They already have more money than they know what to do with, even after buying a mansion for you two somewhere far away from the hustle and bustle of this annoying society you two live in. Once you're there, no one will hear you scream. And your omega knows you won't deny them when they ask you to go on vacation with them "for old time's sake". Why would you? You love them, they know it. Even if you hesitate, you are so easily persuadable when they plead a little, just like all those followers they have accumulated over the past few months that fall for every crocodile tear and every sway of the omega's hips. But while many may adore the yandere, they only have eyes for you—and now you're walking into their carefully laid out trap.

Because as soon as they lock the door behind them, there's no way out for you. You may not like your new living arrangement initially, but the yan has already severed all your ties to the world outside of this sacred haven they created. Everything is gone—your job, your friends, your family. No one will come looking for you. Everyone believes you left of your own free will with the person you have loved since childhood.

You may be confused, crying, and refusing the omega's touches. Begging them to let you go and even lash out, but they'll endure it, whether it's your tears staining the designer carpet or your palm print on their skin. You'll surely come to your senses and realize the amazing effort the yan put into this. But even after days, you're still rattling on doors, trying to jump out of locked windows, and at that point, it's not like the yan is too innocent to drug your food and chain you in their basement love nest. Nothing will get in between you and them—not even you. This change may be hard, but they had to sacrifice a lot for you, too. It's only fair if you have to do the same for this perfect life. And if you're not willing to give them the love they want, they have viewers waiting upstairs in their new and approved 'office' to release some steam with and clear their head before they do something that will upset both of you. Viewers who can't wait for the special 'surprise' the yan has promised many weeks ago.

Because everyone knows that the omega's heat will come, even with the suppressant. They will need their release when the medicine doesn't work anymore. And why would they need to keep taking it when they are secure and in the company of their one true love? They don't need an alpha to do it. They have you. What more could they want?

You'll have no moment of peace from them once their heat starts, cameras set up, and chains secure you into their nest. There are toys for all the needs they could possibly have that you can't fulfill as a mere beta. And when they inject you with so many pheromones that your body can barely handle the rut they will force you into despite being the wrong person for it, you'll almost be like the alpha they need, desperately humping and grinding on your omega like a bitch in heat. Wild and only held back by the chains, but still their adorable, beautiful darling beta, even when you two make a mess out of the nest and yourselves.

All on camera, of course.

The omega doesn't even care when they scream your name, revealing your identities to the world. No one will ever come for you two while the tips and memberships just come flowing in naturally, demanding more. And the yan gladly obliges. There is no greater happiness than finally having you right how they want and need you.

It's happiness shared amongst everyone.

Everyone except you.

[risuola]

Please hear me out!

i’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I wanted to write it myself but I can’t write for shit 😭 Here’s my idea, reader (she/her) is close friends with Satoru and Suguru. She takes Suguru’s place instead, and Suguru ends up not going insane, and decides to stick around in Jujutsu High. But because the reader takes his place in this story, she spirals and abandons the idea of being morally good. (She’s a sensitive softie at heart 🥹 the cruel reality of being a sorcerer really took a toll on her). She commits so many crimes that the higher ups urge the strongest duo to finally execute her after dismissing her for nearly a decade. She dies in their hands, and doesn’t get a proper burial. Kenjaku takes her body and uses it as vessel. When Shibuya arc finally unfolds, she shows up right in front of Satoru and Suguru, alive and well. Soon reveals that it’s Kenjaku who has full control of her body. Of course their guilts eats them alive, and the reader (more like kenjaku) rubs salt on their wounds by taunting them about how she’s a great vessel and also a waste that she had to die so soon.

LOST CAUSE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU + GETO SUGURU, but there’s no romance whatsoever, guest appearance of Kenjaku

cw: an au where SatoSugu have another close friend; spoilers for Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc and the very beginning of Shibuya arc, so much angst and the usual that comes with JJK – blood, hurt, tears and depression : D also, possibly inaccurate references to the original plot, reader's death — 5,5k words

a/n: I’m hearing you out dear! Thank you for the conception, it certainly fulfilled my need to write long and angsty &lt;3

It was stupid. All of it was stupid. Why? Which decisions led you to where you now stood, all of your mind and body filled with devastation as you stilled in time – above the piles of little corpses, disfigured and permanently contorted in a grimace of dread and suffering. A stench of blood and burned bodies irritated your nostrils, your eyes were teary from all the smoke that still was filling the air and as you looked down at your hands, they were covered in blood and purple goo. Sticky. Repulsive. And the screams. In the dead silence of your surroundings, your head was still filled with an echo of those, who were now dead at your feet. Those, who you were unable to save. The imagery of them running, begging, dying carved itself into your mind. Why were you here, again?

* * *

“Hey, y/n, you’ve lost some weight. Are you alright?”, Satoru asked, playing with pencil that just a moment ago he asked you to throw at him. A showcase of his new skills, the techniques he’s been perfecting for the last year after encountering Toji Fushiguro. You forced a smile, squinting from the blinding sun of the summer at its peak.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, patting Suguru’s shoulder, because his attentive eyes were scanning you already for any sign of disorder; you could hear his analytic brain cranking up, his golden pupils drilling holes in your head. “I’m good, it’s just too hot you know?”

“Wanna go grab some ice cream later?”

“Always.” No, you didn’t wanna go grab ice cream with them. You didn’t wanna grab anything with anyone for that matter and already you had come up with some half-baked excuse to sell later to your two best friends.

You, Shoko, Gojo and Geto were all in the same year in Jujutsu high. You joined them a little late, but quickly found yourself inside the love triangle with the two boys. You called it love, but it truly was nothing more than just a bonding friendship that you wished will last forever; a really close one and you couldn’t imagine your world without their chaos. They were like brothers to you, the ones you’ve never had and Ieiri was like a sister, but she was smart enough to keep her distance from the mess of SatoSugu. You were not as bright in that matter, but for two years, you couldn’t appreciate enough the yin and yang that they created, the casual bickers and deep talks late at night, the cuddles and pinches, the pats and smacks, the tears and laughs, sleepovers, sleepless nights and everything between. You loved them, you couldn’t think of your future without them.

That’s until not that long ago. Few months, maybe. You felt like you’ve been spiraling slowly into something that could only be named depression, because if not that, then what else? Why would you randomly tear up nowadays, zoning out completely in the midst of sentences. Why would you spend nights, blankly staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, isolating yourself from your friends more and more? And why would you still hear that? The screams, the pleads of hysteric, the soul-tearing sounds of pain and frighten that you’ve been carrying inside your brain since that one mission.

Everything went wrong then, and you were alone. Shoko stayed at the campus, working her way towards becoming a doctor and you, Satoru and Suguru were assigned only to solo missions since the plasma vessel failure. You were strong, it was stated that your year was exceptional, that all of you have a chance to become special grades soon, but you hated that. Being strong came with a burden that you were not ready to take, and when you realized that, most of it was already heaving on your shoulders.

When you got to that school, it was already too late and it wasn’t your fault. You rushed there as soon as you were assigned with the job, but when you dropped the curtain and looked at the building, there was already smoke coming from the window holes, that some time earlier had glass in them. And when you kicked your way inside the little indoor sports arena, the view struck you in ways you couldn’t possibly prepare yourself for and certainly, you couldn’t process it as well. The school was primary, those people were just kids, but the curses pay no mind to age of their victims. This one was particularly playful – or rather, eagerly violent – spreading hellfire around, burning these children alive one by one, causing chaos, suffering and bloodshed. When you finished exorcising it, it was over. For the curse, for your job and for the lives of all of those children. None survived. Not even one.

Not always we can save everyone, Suguru always told you, rationalizing the sacrifices sorcerers have to make and you tried to repeat that in your head when you got out. You tried to play it over the screams, but eventually, the soft tone of your friend’s voice got lost in the catastrophic cacophony of sorrow, sizzling skin and burning death. And that, maybe wouldn’t be enough for you to lose your mind. Maybe you could recover from that, but soon after the incident you witnessed the group of people that stood behind the assault. A band of grown humans, men and women, who were convinced some of those children were possessed by devils or some other shit, so in all hypocrisy known to race, they hired a curse user to fight fire with fire. Quite literally. Those people were so blinded by their fear of unknown that they sacrificed lives of dozens of little children, they shattered so many innocent lives only because they believed in something absurd. And then, they tried to push the blame on you, on sorcerers despite the fact they hired one to do the dirty job. And then, they killed the user, fearing him too. When you’ve got to see the body of a sorcerer that you’ve never got to meet, or at least you thought so, you realized that probably, you wouldn’t recognize him anyway. You’ve seen corpses barely reminiscing of humans, twisted and broken as curses often chose the most petrifying, violent ways of killing, but this? This was something you’ve never seen before – a cruel, ruthless exhibition of pure hate, evidence of deliberate torture, the picture painted in stabs, burns and bruises. All of which, caused by people, who frankly, showed no remorse nor regret as their faces were painted in pride, origin of which you failed to notice.

Those humans. Used jujutsu to commit mass murder only to blame it on your people and kill them. Animals. No. Worse. Much worse.

“Y/n, please, let’s talk it through,” Suguru tried to reason, as you stood up against the two of your friends, in the middle of Shibuya’s scramble crossing. People were passing next to the three of you, unbothered by the way your worlds were colliding right here, in the busiest part of Tokyo. People didn’t care of others, they wouldn’t react if someone next to them would get stabbed to death, only caring about their own shoes to not get them stained in the dirt of blood.

“Don’t be stupid, it’s not who you are,” Satoru raised his tone, but all you felt was nothing. The emotions you’ve seen on his face were real, you knew it. Satoru wears his heart on his shoulder, he pours everything he feels into the words he aims at people that are close to his soul, and you were no exception, but at this moment, you felt nothing. “I know you couldn’t do that.”

“Couldn’t I?”, you asked, thinking back on the last Friday, during which you executed those same people that used jujutsu sorcerers to wipe the floors of that primary school. To wipe the blood and burned bodies. You remember how they knelt before you, how the women cried begging for their lives, yelping that they have children, families and yet, those same children and families were nowhere in their mind when they ordered a mass murder in the primary school. “And why would that be exactly? Because you two think so?”

“Y/n, I get it,” Geto stepped forward, but stopped as you glanced at him. “I really do. You know me, we talked about it. It was hard for me too after Riko, I know what you’re going through.”

“I know Suguru.”

“I thought you keep his side, y/n,” Gojo threw his hands in the air, helplessly trying to find the words to dress his mind with. “I thought you believe in doing good with your powers. That people won’t understand so we shouldn’t look at them and just do what we do. Wasn’t that what you’ve told me?”

“I did, yes,” you gave it a nod and exhaled. “But it changed. Yes, they won’t understand. Anything that they can’t comprehend is pure evil for them and yet they believe in such absurd like gods. They will use us to do their dirty works and then blame us for it, because they cannot understand a single thing. And then, they will kill us, one by one and we, the strongest, cannot do nothing about it. We’ll have to go through life through the corpses of our friends. People don’t deserve what we do for them.”

“Y/n, please, let’s talk about it. Let’s get back to school-“ Geto tried, but you cut him off.

“You two, get back to school. I know I have a sentence already, there’s no point for me to get back there only to get executed. And frankly, I don’t want to get back there, to take part in what they teach us is right when we die for those people. We give our lives for them and they have no idea,” you said, taking a step back. You could tell the lights will soon switch. “Look around, Satoru, Suguru. They crawl around us unaware of our sacrifice and yet, even if they are so fragile a single blow can kill them, they think we deserve to be killed. I’m not gonna take part in this anymore. I’m sorry.”

“We can’t let you go, you know that, we-“

“Then attack me. I’m sure any of you can take me down. I’d rather die by your hands, than on a job of protecting them.”

You turned your back on them, and Satoru raised his hand, pointing at your silhouette, blue already on his mind as his cursed energy gathered in front of his fingers. Suguru’s curses sprawled out of their dimension, but none of them pursued with the attack, unable to do that. They couldn’t kill you. You were too dear to them. They loved you too much to take your life like this. So they let you go, and soon enough, they lost the sight of you in the crowd.

* * *

Nine years. It's been almost a decade and many things changed. You changed your ways completely, making a point of protecting sorcerers from people, even if that meant killing them, but care for humans was something you’ve lost many years ago, having it slowly replaced by disgust. Your once soft heart turned hard and dark and all the good in you vanished as you time after time solidified your beliefs that humans are simply not worth saving, therefore there was no need to keep them alive the moment they became useless. Over those years, you used those people to your benefit, raising money and gathering intel and then, the second their use to you has become nonexistent, so were them. Blood burned permanent stains on your hands but screams of hurt didn’t phase you at all. Have you become a monster? You might have. But for the lives of sorcerers, it was worth it.

It’s been almost a decade since you’ve been dismissed from jujutsu community for crimes, that over those years piled up rapidly and during this time, both Satoru and Suguru tried to stay out of this, whilst Yaga turned a blind eye to the corrupted path one of his students went down by. The now principal felt responsible for not doing enough, for not saying enough, for not noticing soon enough and though the rest of his students, now teachers in Jujutsu high told him that some things were inevitable, it wasn’t that easy to switch off the thinking. Same went for both the strongest, but for years, they waited in hopes for something to change.

That was until you killed someone seemingly important. A politician of sorts, high government pawn that you learned was funding a unit of so-called sorcerer killers, ones that modelled after Toji Fushiguro in cold blood were meant to take down a menace that jujutsu users were, as if it was them who were the ones to fear. Opposite to little no-one’s deaths, this one was loud, this one was medial and this one, Yaga couldn’t let slip. So, an order was given.

Kill on sight.

Almost ten years, and yet Satoru still couldn’t believe what happened. Whilst young, the three of you were almost inseparable and you, out of the whole group, were the most sensitive person he knew. You were soft and full of smiles, kind above all else and yet, you were strong enough to hold back the tears he knew were threatening to roll down your cheeks on many occasions. You were soothing, an oasis that was easily able to turn any darkness into light, and what Satoru couldn’t forgive himself was that once that same darkness started devouring you, he didn’t notice. Too focused on his own missions, on lighthearted shenanigans, on perfecting his usage of limitless and six eyes, he had no idea about your state of mind and when he realized, you have already been sentenced. Suguru didn’t notice either. Or maybe didn’t want to notice, because you talked through many nights about the doubts you both had. He knew about the utter devastation that was slowly consuming your soul but hoped you’ll overcome it, because you always were a sunshine, and a sunshine couldn’t die down to shadows. Turned out, this shadow was pitch black and no light made its way through it.

“Y/n,” they called you and the beautiful music that their voices created brought back memories of your youth. Ten years, almost, had passed since you’ve seen your best friends the last time, and with curiosity sparkling through your system, you turned to face them.

“Satoru, Suguru,” addressing them, your lips curved up slightly in a manner of soft joy. Your heart fluttered at the sight; your pulse raised just as it would for person who’s just seen the love of their life. “Long time no see.”

“It’s not as pleasurable as we would like it to be, y/n,” Suguru sighed and you took a moment to absorb the view.

Both of them changed. Suguru, still tall and broad, seemingly even buffier than he was before stood there with his hair now longer and partially knotted and partially left loose on his back. His facial features sharpened, jaw got more edge to it, eyes turned more narrow and focused, but still, some softness remained from what you remembered and probably he would seem even more familiar if not for the tough expression he had going on. Satoru, right next to him, became even taller. His white hair was now pointing up, kept by a white wrap that completely covered his eyes – something that he probably adapted during the time of usage of his six eyes. Not much of his face you could see, but with ease you noticed his features matured. Both were dressed in uniforms that you could only tie to their unbreakable bond with Jujutsu high.

“You’re now teachers, the two of you, huh?”, you asked, smiling softly, but keeping their moves in mind. “I’ve heard this year’s students are exceptional, now it makes sense. Good they have such amazing senseis.”

“You could have been one of the teachers too,” Gojo snapped.

“How could I teach anyone something I don’t believe in?” a chuckle rumbled deep in your chest as you thought of the image. Abstraction of it made you amused. “How’s Shoko? Is she a doctor now?

“She is,” Geto muttered, unsure why is he answering your questions. “Yaga is the principal.”

“Oh, is he? Look at him, climbing up that ladder,” you laughed, “so, it’s on his orders that you two are here?”

“You killed a fucking politician, y/n,” Satoru spoke, sounding calm but you could tell his blood was boiling. Both of his hands hidden in his pockets were visibly clenched in fists and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew his brows were furrowed. “Almost a decade we allowed you to do whatever you tried to do, but this time, higher ups stepped in. The sentence is decided, we cannot let you pursue your goals further.”

“And why are you both here? I’m sure just one amazing special grade would be enough,” there was a certain amount of poison in your words, though it wasn’t directed at your friends and both of them knew it. “Are the higher ups so desperate to get me off the board because it’s them who give green lights to those assholes that kill us? Did you know that that pathetic politician I’ve killed was in midst of creating an army of little Toji Fushiguros? How do you think he even knew about the dude, huh?”

“An army of Toji?”

“Yeah, remember that guy, that cut both of you into slices? Yea, that one. And who’s giving away the cursed tools to said army? Well, it’s not me and I assume not any of you as well.”

 “Y/n,” Suguru made his way to the side in what seemed like an attempt on surrounding you, because in that same moment, Satoru began shifting to the other side. “I agree with you. People don’t deserve what we do. But no one else can do it. You’re killing those whom we swore to protect.”

“Tell me, Suguru… how many bodies of our friends did Shoko cut open?” you asked and the question made the dark-haired man tsk. It was the truth that hurt the most, he hated how precisely it hit the spot. “How many of our allies were spread across her metal table after Haibara was there? Well, half of Haibara?”

“That’s not the point,” Satoru scoffed and with an exhale, he raised his hand up to loosen up the bandages around his eyes. “We die just as people die. Sorcerers are not above death. You know that, right?”

“We’re not above that, but we are above people and we risk our lives, which we just like them have only one of, for them. And they fuckingstep on it. If I have to pick who’s gonna die from a curse, why would I pick a sorcerer, when a loss of a mere human will be much less tangible than the loss of one of us?”

“Because they cannot protect themselves from curses, and we can.” Geto replied and in a whiff, you felt the appearance of his curses around him. Both him and Gojo were getting ready for a fight, so you had to get ready as well.

“But can we really protect ourselves from them?”, you glared back at him; your tone calm but laced with icicles that pierced through Suguru’s mind as he struggled to see you inside of you.

All of the softness he had always equated you with dissolved into something he couldn’t quite place. Image of you killing someone just for the sake of killing somehow couldn’t materialize inside his mind and it pained him, breaking his heart to think that he will be the reason of your death. And it’s true that probably, just one of them would be enough for that fight, but there was no way they would be able to chose and no one else could do it. You were the strongest, you grew into a special grade quickly after leaving and your technique proved to have no flaws or holes. You were a threat above abilities of others, stepping down only to the two of your friends, if not being equal to them.

“Let’s do it quickly, Suguru,” Satoru sighed, tucking his wraps into one of his pockets.

“Oh, where’s your playful attitude, Satoru?”, you teased, but somehow it hurt you as well. It was your friend you were talking to. Both of them, that came here to kill you and only way for you to get out of it was to kill them.

And killing them, turned out, you couldn’t do. Even hurting them came with difficulty not physically, but mentally. But you fought them both at the same time, keeping a defensive stance, searching for an opening to vanish. From them, you wished to run away, to not make them take the burden of your death because you could see it in their eyes, you were just as dear to them still, as they were to you. But they left you no opening to run away, so you fought. Using everything you’ve got to immobilize them, because instead of taking their lives, that would give you more time.

The way you stood against them, with your cursed technique of energy manipulation, it gave them the hardest time since Toji, and considering they were both taking part in the fight now, ten years after and significantly stronger, just showed how much work you’ve put into your own development. And with pride you noticed, how strong both of your friends became as well. You countered all of their attacks, slashed away the curses and blocked the blues and reds, albeit it really was a matter of time and you knew that. And so, you pushed through, materializing in your hands weapons made from pure, solidified cursed energy, using swords and needles and creating armor around your body that effectively, shielded you from any attack. Your weapon was different from cursed tools. It was made only from energy, strong and unbendable, changing shapes and forms as you deemed it necessary, allowing you to use it in close combat and on long distances. Any curses Suguru summoned stood no chance against what you wielded, but the sheer amount of them was just short of overwhelming you. On top of that, Satoru’s constant offensive, his fists saturated in limitless abilities, the sheer strength of both bodies that were attacking you, slowly rendered you weaker. And it didn’t surprise you.

The end has come when one of the curses stopped you mid-way, engaging in a fight that distracted you enough for a hollow purple to reach your body. The blast threw you away as your body pierced through three buildings straight, through thick concrete bocks and hard steel reinforcements like it was tearing through wet paper and it’s only thanks to the full body coverage of your cursed technique, that it didn’t kill you on the spot. But it hurt. All of your body felt broken once you finally stopped, back pressed against the wall that still cracked underneath the impact of your frame hitting it. Blood covered your vision and a cough shook your body with painful wave overtaking your entire nervous system.

“So that’s the infamous hollow purple, huh?”, you muttered, leaning your head back against the cold solid behind you. There wasn’t much in your body that wouldn’t be fractured at least, you could tell without a mistake that your heart was still beating only because of the cursed energy that still circled throughout your frame.

Both men appeared in front of you, jumping from above – Suguru coming from one of his flying curses and Satoru, probably just teleported here.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Gojo whispered, squatting in front of you and Geto followed his motion to level his vision with yours.

“’ts alright, ‘toru,” you muttered, feeling the dizziness taking the best of you. After the hit you took, you were certain not even a genius like Shoko could save you. “Sugu… both so strong.”

Exchanging a quick glance, both sorcerers sat down, on your sides, paying no mind to the puddle of blood underneath you. They took your hands, so small in comparison to theirs, now red and wounded severely, but the pain you couldn’t feel much of anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take this mission for you. Back in our days. It was meant to be mine, but I was training,” Satoru confessed, squeezing lightly the fractured bones in your palm, reminiscing of the day that was the beginning of your end. The elementary. That day engraved itself in his memory as one of many days that seemingly mattered nothing. Yaga told him about the issue, the curse and fire in school for the youngest, but he brushed it off, focusing all of his mind on perfecting the last touches of his technique. He still remembers how sensei was mumbling profanities, but couldn’t care less because he was that close from teleporting.

“’ts okay, ‘toru.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there either,” Suguru added, his voice barely a whisper as you leaned your head against his shoulder, desperate to ease the heaviness. What Geto remembered from the day in question was that he had an issue with his own technique. Little difficulty, as he was absorbing one of the special grade curses he just caught. It wasn’t severe, it wasn’t even that important, he could have fix this on another time and take the god damn mission, but instead, he declined. “I thought if I don’t take the job, Satoru will, but turned out, it got to you.”

“Sugu, ‘ts ok.”

“Remember how we used to sneak out the dorms to get ice cream in the middle of the night?”, Satoru changed the topic completely – a defensive mechanism to lighten up the mood, to prevent him from crying. And you hummed in response, lowering your heavy lids.

“And how Satoru got drunk after three sips of a beer? That’s when we all knew he’s the lightest head in the history,” Suguru added and faded images of how Gojo discovered that he cannot drink to save his life rushed to the front of your mind.

You had no idea how long it took, was it few minutes or merely few seconds, but you listened to both men rambling above your head, reminiscing of your school days and everything that you did together. Of every prank you witnessed that they took on poor first years, of every little mischief and menace they performed, following Satoru’s lead, because it’s always him who stood tall in the name of chaos. You were humming softer and softer, quieter and quieter.

Until you were not.

“And then we put those cupcakes in Nanami’s bed and-“

“Satoru,” Geto cut him softly, looking down at your stilled frame. At your frozen chest and softened features, sensing no more heartbeat. And Gojo turned his eyes towards you as well, taking in the last picture of you, who he loved as his little sister, even though there was no age gap between you and him. And then they both cried in silence, spending another hour with your dead body before gathering you and taking home.

* * *

October 31, 2018

21:18

Only word that could describe what was happening in Shibuya at this moment would be chaos. Pure disorder, people frightened and running, some unconscious on the ground and some other hiding from what was happening in the Shibuya station. Most of them couldn’t see it but felt the terror, saw the blood, smelled the death in the middle of which, two men were standing.

Both Satoru and Suguru, when they came down here to fight whatever the hell was attacking people, couldn’t move; their heads void of any logical thoughts as memories rushed to the fronts of their minds. Stunned to the core and frozen, they looked into the eyes of the person in front of them, distrusting their own vision. The person that wore the familiar look of you, the energy of you and what seemed like – the same cursed technique, and voice, and face, and hair, and everything. Not one thing betrayed trickery or deception as there you stood, facing them both with a smile on your face – one of those soft ones that had melted their hearts on the spot a decade before. Your features relaxed, genuine, borderline joyous as you breathed the air around them once again.

“What…?”, Suguru snapped first, forcing his own body to move and smacking his friend’s shoulder. “How?”

“Who the hell are you…?”, Satoru whispered, voice stuck in his throat as all of the information that his senses were receiving contradicted with what his soul was telling him.

“Aah? It’s been few months, but do you not recognize me anymore?”, your voice flew through your mouth, the very same gentle and bright tone they used to fall asleep to. “It’s hurting my feelings.”

“Cut it,” Gojo snapped, now putting more pressure on his vocal cords, a groan escaping his throat in effect. “Cut the bullshit, you’re not her. You cannot be her. Y/n is-“

“Dead? Yeah, that purple really messed me up,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders slightly and stepping forward. “I have to admit, restoring the body wasn’t the easiest of all.”

“Reveal yourself,” Geto took the defensive stance, ready to pursue with attack if needed and his curses floating behind him on standby. “You’re not fooling us.”

“Ah, how stubborn,” another laugh brightened your face, only now more menacing, more teasing as your dainty fingers reached up to gather the lose hair out of your forehead, revealing a line of thin stitches across your skin there. “See, you really did me a favor by burying her body oh-so traditionally. Isn’t that the procedure to burn every deceased sorcerer?” your mouth was moving, spilling the words interlaced with taunt as the, what looked like, thread was pulled out of the horizontal line above your eyebrows and soon after, grabbed by the hair, the top of your head was lifted, revealing the terrifying image of a brain. With mouth of its own.

“What did you do to her?!”

“Oh, I just took what you two threw away,” you replied, slowly putting the upper skull part down on its place, matching the lines as the thread went through the holes by itself, securing the head together. “And I have to thank you for your little sentiment. If not for that, I wouldn’t have my perfect vessel. Ah, but it’s sad, isn’t it? Such a young, pretty girl had to die so early, and more so, killed by her own best friends. What a waste to jujutsu community, don’t you think?”

Both the boys stood there in shock, guilt eating them alive as the salt and acid was being rubbed into the wounds that just opened. The scabs of the past were ripped away, revealing the gushing pain and Satoru growled in anger, realizing that once again, he might have been responsible for what happened to you. This time, Suguru kept up with him in terms of fury, feeling his own blood boiling in his veins, unable to watch your body being possessed like this, used like a toy.

“Y/n, I know you’re there-“ Gojo called, but got stopped quickly by another pilfering laugh.

“Oh, but she’s not. Her soul is long gone and dead. You made sure to have her soul dead, and you have to know I nearly teared up reviewing her memories when I took the body. Such a poignant story, oh, so heartbreaking.” The teasing had no end as more and more poisonous venom spilled through your mouth, contradicting the carefree and joyful tone of your voice.

“What makes you believe that even if you take her body, you can win here? We’ve defeated her already,” Suguru narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, you’ve won but that’s because she let you two won. Wasn’t that surprising how easily you finished her? A special grade? How she didn’t even try to dodge the hollow purple, like the little curse that she was fighting with was really that much of a struggle? Oh, don’t be silly, you two. It wouldn’t be that easy if she tried.”

“We won’t let you-“

“You must understand your situation. What you’re standing in is a special grade cursed object. A prison realm, and to say it simply, you’ve already lost,” you pointed at the floor, from where the four corners of a cube stretched into a mass of flesh, with an eye – giant and bleeding, staring at its target, as the next stage of sealing began before either of sorcerers reacted. “And what’s more interesting, the prison realm can seal only one person at the time, but with the incredible technique of my current host, I was able to fuel its capacity to two occupants, by manipulating the cursed energy it used. Marvelous!”

The cursed object began enveloping both men, rendering them helpless and immobile, as their cursed energy became unavailable for their use.

“We’ll save you, y/n, you hear me?”, Satoru yelled in unison with his friend and the lone tear rolled down your face, before your hand reached up wiping it in amusement.

“Gate close.”

[band--psycho]

Sylus x Reader x Zayne -Birthday Surprises - Part 2 (ZAYNE)

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

This is for my Zayne lovers! Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

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Flashback 

Zayne wanted to make your birthday special. 

He knew how tough of a year it had been for you, he just wanted to make your birthday a day that you would remember and treasure for years to come.

Now Zayne didn’t do anything without taking the time to think it through first; that’s why he was so particular when it came to picking out birthday presents for you. 

Normally he would’ve brought you books but you had more than enough of those that you could’ve started your own little library and he knew Tara had brought you a small collection of books already. 

Besides, he always brought you books for your birthday.

This year he wanted to do something different, aware that your relationship wasn’t the same as it was before. 

So he brought you your favourite chocolates, a bouquet of your favourite flowers and he’d even created a scrapbook that you so often talked about making, filled with all of the photos you two had taken recently. 

But then he saw a beautiful heart shaped diamond necklace with a snowflake hanging in the center of it. 

He knew you’d love it; but despite knowing that, he didn’t buy it when he first saw it. 

It wasn’t because of how much it cost; he was more than willing to pay any sum of money for a gift for you, but it was what this gift in particular meant. 

It was a symbol of how he truly felt about you….

Of how much he cared for you.

Of how much he loved you.

There were so many times where he wanted to say those three words to you; when you were cuddled up by his side on the sofa during a movie marathon, when you met up for your weekly coffee catch-up, when you were in a photo booth taking picture after picture. Or whenever you came into the hospital injured after a mission, worrying him half to death. 

He’d  been too scared to tell you of his feelings then, fearful that it could ruin the friendship he valued so highly.

But when he saw you the following day; he kept having the urge to say those words, of course he didn’t, he didn’t think randomly blurting it out in the middle of a conversation would’ve been the best of ideas. 

The day after that though, he brought the necklace without hesitation, and with a simple plan in mind. 

He was going to make your birthday the best he could possibly make it. 

And he was going to tell you how he really felt about you. 

~~~~~~

“This is for you,” Zayne said, handing over a perfectly wrapped black box, once the two of you were in your apartment.

“An early birthday present?” You asked, unable to hide the smile growing on your face as you held the box in your hands. 

“It’s one of your birthday presents; you have to wait for the rest,” he explained, placing his glasses down on the sideboard next to him, before pulling his phone from his pocket and quickly typing away a message in response to the pinging sound his phone had been making the last few minutes. 

“The rest?” The surprise in your voice was followed with a quizzical look; not being able to help but wonder how many presents he’d gotten you; you hadn’t expected anything from him except a card and a book, the same as what he got you every year.

He simply gave you a small smile followed by a nod, urging you to open the box in your hand.

“Zayne, it’s gorgeous…” you breathed, completely in awe of the gorgeous necklace sitting in the black velvet box you were holding.

The longer you stared at it, the more you felt the butterflies in your stomach swarming. 

It was stunning, the most beautiful necklace you’d ever laid eyes on.

You couldn’t quite believe he was giving this to you as a gift, the brand name alone was enough for you to know that it certainly couldn’t have been  cheap. 

“Turn around,” Zayne said softly, snapping you out of your thoughts, putting his phone down next to his glasses before delicately lifting the necklace from its box. 

You did as he said and turned around whilst he unclasped the silver clasp of the necklace before gently hanging it around your neck.

You were trying to ignore how the slightest touch of his fingers on your skin sent the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

It wasn’t often Zayne touched you, much to your own disappointment, but when he did, you felt like your body was on fire, which was odd seeing as his hands were usually so cold. 

When you turned around to face him, you saw his eyes were fixed on you while a smile was tugging at his lips.

You loved it when he smiled at you like that. 

“Beautiful,” he complimented, making heat fill your cheeks. 

Zayne would often do this, give you little compliments like this, and everytime you had the same reaction. 

You should’ve been used to it by now, shouldn’t have let yourself be so affected by some kind words, but you couldn’t help it. 

When those words came from Zayne, they made your heart skip a beat. 

You felt something between you as you both stood there, a tension that you’d felt many times before but had tried hard to ignore, though admittedly that was getting harder and harder to do because of how frequently these feelings were occurring. 

You stared at each other for a while in silence; like you were trying to read the other's mind; to understand what the other was feeling.

“Zayne-” you whispered, breaking the silence, suddenly becoming aware of how close you were to one another.

He opened his mouth to reply to you; but then his phone started ringing, killing the tension that had been burning between you both. 

“I’m sorry, it’s work,” he apologized with a sympathetic look in his eyes as he picked it up from the sideboard.

You knew what that meant. 

“It’s okay,” you smiled reassuringly at him, “I’ll see you later right?”

You hated how needy you sounded with that last part of your sentence; but you wanted to spend time with him today….even if it was just for a few more moments. 

“Of course, nothing could make me miss tonight,” that was the last thing he said to you before leaving your apartment. 

Work always came first, for the both of you…

That was the part of the problem when it came to the two of you; a work-life balance was hard to keep when your jobs required so much of you at any hour of the day. 

You were just heading to your bedroom to start getting ready for tonight, until you heard a knock at your door.

That’s when you saw Zaynes glasses still on the sideboard; you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself, remembering every time prior that Zayne had left his glasses at your apartment.

~~~~~~

Present Time

“Y/n,” you heard your name called again from the otherside of the door; you were anxious to open it, knowing who was hiding in the closet next to it, but you also knew that not opening the door wasn’t an option either. 

If you didn’t answer the door, Zayne would worry, and the last thing you wanted to do was make him worry about you. 

You took a deep breath in, before opening the door. 

“Are you okay?” Zayne asked softly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took a step towards you. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him with a smile, feeling the pang of guilt in your chest, “I was just trying to work out what to wear for tonight.” 

You felt bad for lying to him, but how could you explain that the leader of Onychinus was hiding in your apartment after nearly kissing you?

Thankfully he didn’t push any further.

“I forgot my glasses,” he stated, nodding over to the sideboard where his glasses still were, “Also, I take it you haven’t checked your phone,”

“No…Why?” You asked, handing Zayne his glasses back before trying to remember where the hell you’d put your phone.

“Tara’s on her way here, her friend at the bar said it’s getting busy and that we should all meet earlier if we want to stand a chance of getting a table,”

‘Shit,’ you thought to yourself. 

How could you leave your apartment knowing that Sylus was still in the coat closet….

“I need to change-” at least that could buy you some time to somehow sneak Sylus out without anyone noticing, you didn’t know how, but you could leave him in there.

“No time,” Tara called out, running to Zaynes side, “we need to go, now,”

“Tara-”

“Cmon,” Tara pleaded, practically pulling you out of your apartment, “besides you already look amazing, doesn’t she, Doctor Zayne?”

He nodded in agreement, whispering, “you always do,” in your ear before watching Tara start dragging you down the hall and out of the building. 

His words echoed through your mind and made an all too familiar warm and fuzzy feeling fill your heart.

What the fuck was going on tonight?

What the fuck were you going to do?

The thoughts kept spinning around your head like a carousel; but in the end you knew it all came down to one question. 

One very simple question. 

Who did your heart truly belong to, Zayne or Sylus?

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @the-slytherin-poet @ladyparamount @hao-ming-8 @deathkat657 @bookworm1767 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @ayatoq @kisukiis @cheesemachine44 @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @worm-in-a-bug @popcorn-mochi01 @thegalaxysedge22 @hotdogcookie @ollieneedsamilkshake @comatosebunny09 @ayatok

[dameronology]

when it rains (obi-wan x reader)

summary: being in love with obi-wan is great - but it might be less difficult if he knew about it. (commission for @ofmusesandsecrets!)

warnings: language

You were generally quite good at keeping your shit together.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had always been a threat to that.

On the surface, you were everything a Senator could need to be; an intelligent and well-spoken individual, with a high level of education and a passion for change. You always stood up for what you believed in; always spoke up on issues you were passionate about and always fighting the good fight. These were all things that Obi-Wan had loved about you, and in what felt like the galaxy's cruellest Catch 22, it was that love that threatened your ability to upkeep appearances. One glance at him across the Senate, or a brief moment of eye contact at one of the Galas - more often than not where he was your bodyguard - and you were worried it would all come tumbling down.

You had met Kenobi a few years after he'd become a Jedi Master. You were early on in your career as a politician, working as an apprentice to a higher-level representative. Always on the go, with stacks of paperwork in your arms and a million thoughts brewing in your mind, you'd crossed paths with Obi-Wan one morning during a meeting in the Temple. He'd given you a smile, made a quip about how he'd never seen you not on the go (which confirmed to you that he had seen you before and had stared long enough to notice those details about you).

Five years later, you hadn't been able to look at anyone else.

He was your best friend now, undoubtedly and wholly. You saw each other every day at the least - maybe in meetings and occasionally in passing - but he would come to your apartment every night without fail. Mostly just to catch up, and sometimes just to vent. Even on the days where Anakin had driven him to the point of grey hair, you were still happy to listen.

It was raining tonight in Coruscant. A lot. Lashing down from the sky, putting most of the city to a halt. Your afternoon meeting had been cancelled as a result, which meant you'd been holed up in your apartment all afternoon, a mug of tea in one hand and a stack of paperwork in the other. Obi-Wan's first ever comment to you had always rung true; you were always on the go, even when you were sat still. There was always something on your mind - something to create, something to do, something to debate. Sometimes, it made Obi-Wan want to grab your shoulders, give you a little shake and tell you to slow the fuck down.

He turned up just after 8PM - drenched, as expected, and with a slightly wet coffee cup in hand. In your line of work, you could afford a slow afternoon. For Obi-Wan, your busiest day of work was comparable to one he'd find relaxing. You had no doubt that he'd not long wrapped up for the night, so you wasted no time in stepping aside and letting him into your apartment.

"Long day?" you asked, eyebrows raised.

Obi-Wan glared at you. "Long day. Wet day."

"Right, sorry," you snorted. Taking the coffee cup out his hands, you tossed it into the garbage and headed towards your kitchen. "C'mon, I'll make you a drink that's not half rainwater."

"Thank you, darling," he gave you a small smile, hot on your tail as he followed you through the apartment. "I heard the Senate meeting was called early this afternoon."

"Yeah," you replied. "At like 2PM. Half the people due to come couldn't make it due to the weather. It took me two hours to get home."

"You should have come and found me at the Temple," Obi-Wan said. "You know my room is always available."

You knew. You'd always known, even on the nights when Obi-Wan was present there too. How many times had you stayed over after a long night? Snuck back there after a Gala? Just to sleep three feet apart, both your minds working at a thousand miles an hour, purely to resist the urge to reach out towards him and curl up into his side. The idea of domesticity with Obi-Wan was almost enough to kill you, just as it was right now. Here he was, leant against your kitchen counter. He was throwing his wet cloak into your tumble drier, hands reaching for a tea towel on the side. He was acting like he lived here, like he paid half the rent and maker, you wished he would. You wished that he would come back here every night and just fucking stay. With you, here, forever. No outside world; no politics; no stupid Jedi laws.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

You blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Your mind - it went somewhere," Obi-Wan continued. "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh, uh...just work," you forced a smile. "You know how it is."

"I turn off when I'm done," he replied, hand brushing down your arm. "You never really stop, do you?"

I stop thinking about work, you thought to yourself, but I never stop thinking about you.

"No, I will," you murmured. "Sorry."

"Never be sorry," Obi-Wan said.

You snapped back into action, hands quickly chucking ingredients into a mug in order to produce an acceptable cup of coffee. You knew Obi-Wan's routine with his fancy-ass drip filter and organic beans and locally sourced milk. It was a few levels above the instant coffee you were about to press into his hands, but your actions were still met with a smile.

"How are you going to get back to the Temple later?" you asked. "The storm has half the city at a standstill and I beg you not to say that you're walking."

He smiled. "I realised as soon as I got to your building that I may be trapped for the night."

"Right," you replied, fighting back your own smile. "That's sort of the point I was getting to anyways."

Your eyes met, and you couldn't help but sometimes wonder if he felt it too. If his eyes lingered on yours when you turned away, if you were constantly on his mind every moment that you were apart. Of course, it was different for him; after all, the job he'd dedicated his very life to forbade attachment in any form and this? Well, this was the highest form.

"I have some of my brothers clothes in the hallway closet," you broke the silence. "You're welcome to steal some."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Thank you, darling."

It wasn't really a question between you about where he would be sleeping. You only had one bed and you'd already shared before, so what was the point in overcomplicating it? Well...overcomplicating it even more. Nothing about this was simple, and sharing a bed was not the distance you needed for the situation, but what did you care anymore? You yearned to be around the man all the time, even if it meant doing this weird to-and-fro that you'd had going on for half a decade. Him being in your bed just for tonight was fine. You were both tired. You both needed it.

Obi-Wan picked up his mug, giving your arm another squeeze.

"I'm going to go and shower," he said. "Thank you letting me stay."

You smiled and nodded. "Always."

Putting aside your own half empty coffee, you threw it into the sink - that would be tomorrow's problem, as would all of this - and went through to the bedroom. You could hear the shower running, and your mind again went off to that all too familiar place: home. Not here, but wherever Obi-Wan was. What you wouldn't have given to had this every night; you getting ready for bed, him in the shower, both of you planning to end up in the same bed. It wasn't possible. You knew it wasn't possible, as long as he were still a Jedi and as long as you were still a Senator. Hell, you would have thrown your position aside in seconds if it meant being with him. Maybe that was the difference between the two of you.

Changing into a baggy shirt and sweatpants, you threw aside the covers and climbed into bed. The sheets were cold, as they always were when you first went to bed, but knowing someone else was minutes away from warming them up sent butterflies to your stomach. Maybe not butterflies, so much as they were wasps. Big, anxious wasps, at the idea of being in such close proximity with your best friend. What if this was the night that three foot meant fuck all? Maybe you could actually have his arms around; keep him closer for longer, not just a brief hug or a quick touch. This could be it now.

You heard the water shut off and there was a brief shuffling. A few moments later, Obi-Wan exited the bathroom. He'd opted for sweatpants too, but no shirt. Your instincts said to look away, but you couldn't. Hell, you didn't even care that you looked like a creep, watching him as he crossed the room. Obi-Wan barely even noticed, simply placing his boots by the door and climbing into bed beside you. You could feel the heat off his body beside you, arms just inches from touching.

"Was the shower okay?" you asked, eager to break the silence that had once again formed. "I've been having problems with...with my hot water."

"Why are you nervous?"

You blinked. "I'm not nervous."

"Yes, you are," Obi-Wan replied. "You always ramble when you're nervous, and I've never heard you talk about something as boring as how well your shower is working."

"Right," you murmured. "Sorry."

"That still doesn't answer my question," he pushed. "Why are you nervous? It's me, sweetheart."

"Maybe that's exactly why I'm nervous," you muttered. "I'm not sure. I just...it's weird that you're shirtless in my bed."

"Oh," he seemed surprise. "That's okay. I can sleep on the sofa-"

"- no, no, it's fine," you quickly cut him off. "I just never really know what to do these situations, to be honest. When we've slept together before, I've always tried my best to stay on the other side of the bed but...I'm not so sure I want to do that tonight."

Obi-Wan stared blankly ahead for a moment. Okay, so that had been risky as fuck, and for a moment you felt yourself reeling, waiting for his reaction. To your surprise, there wasn't really one. Even when it was the most forward you'd been - without really being forward at all - he still stayed stoic as always. There was no visible response, just a quick blink and a small shrug.

"We're both cold from the rain," he reasoned. "It makes sense. I see no reason why we have to stay on opposite sides of the bed."

Much to your surprise, he was the one to move first. He shuffled onto his side, a large arm coming around your waist and the other snaking underneath you. He pulled you into him, hand guiding your head into his neck and tucking it below his chin. You were stiff for a second, but quickly relaxed - this felt right. Like it was meant to be.

You could faintly smell the remains of his aftershave, mixed with the smell of your shower gel. His skin was still warm from the shower.

(And maybe it was).

"Are you warmer now?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," you murmured. "Toasty."

He smiled. "Good - now get some sleep."

You knew the morning would come, and that Obi-Wan would have to leave; you knew even more that this might not happen again. Not unless luck was on your side and would happen to lump you together during a storm, or a black out. Or - and the more terrifying option - that you declared your love for him and this would be how every night was.

It was hard to know; hard to tell and predict, just like everything else in the galaxy. Still, you were grateful that Obi-Wan was your best friend, and even more grateful that you had tonight.

[starlightsuffered]

Put a Baby in Her

Info - Timothée's pov, hanging out with children, wanting children, light lactation kink, no Dom or sub, breeding kink, dirty talk, cream pie, cock warming

It had started so innocently, as these things often did with her. One small thing could become a complete obsession. It had been this way since day one. On the day l'd met her, she'd been wearing cherry perfume.

Before l'd quite known what was happening to me, my house smelled like cherry candles all the time. My shampoo was cherry scented. My cologne had hints of cherry. I needed to be engulfed and surrounded by everything that she was.

We'd been visiting London for a little bit as a vacation. She had a friend there she wanted to visit. While we were taking a walk one day, a small child kept following us.

The small boy eventually tugged on y/n's sweater sleeve. He looked pitiful and scrubbed at his eyes. His trembling lip showed his attempt to be brave. He couldn't be much more than Preschool age.

"H-Hello," he said softly.

"Hey, what's up baby?" She asked.

"I can't find my mum," he sniffled.

"Oh angel," she said kindly. "We'll help you. Let's make sure you're safe. Where was the last place you saw her?" We began to wander around the park and finally we found a weeping woman speaking to police officers. By this time the small boy had begun to slow down. Y/n had picked him up to help him move along.

The moment of reunion was beautiful. The way y/n smiled looking at the mother and son made something in my stomach flip. I didn't like when the child had to leave her arms. She looked right with a kid. She looked like a natural.

I tried to ignore it. We were so busy after all. I had the press junket for Dune two. I managed to push it down the next time we had sex. I felt an urge to rip off my condom and fill her but I swallowed it.

The next hit had been when her cousin asked her to babysit her baby daughter. I had elected to sleep in and had awoken to a dozen adorable pictures of her and the sweet baby at breakfast.

I had melted immediately. I'd rushed down to the breakfast restaurant and only gotten fifteen minutes of watching my darling with a baby. It had made me ravenous for her.

I had wanted so badly to breed her afterwards. I had taken her again and again, in so many positions. She didn't know why I was so insanely horny. She also didn't know half of my moan when I finished was because of grief.

Grief that I was emptying myself into a condom and not her pure, fertile, womb.

Now, Dune was out, and we were more relaxed. I didn't have a schedule that was packed full. Every day I was considering the idea of children. I was thinking of so many more pros than cons. Nothing was deterring me. I wanted her to be the mother of my children. I needed it.

Then, the dreams came. I had been dreaming of her round and full of my sperm. Her breasts would be full of sweet milk. I fantasied of all the raw sex we could have. I pictured her riding my throbbing cock as I watched her swollen belly bouncing. Knowing that I was the one that made her full and overflowing would be an honour. It was such a sexy idea. Nothing I did, no amount of times I masturbated could get it out of my head.

"I want a baby," | blurted as we ate dinner.

I had been lost in thoughts about breast milk. I was tempted to try it myself. I loved her so much and I needed every part of her. I needed her bare and raw and full of my seed. She needed to feed me the nectar of her nipples. We would be one, so close, and creating another being. I couldn't think of anything more bonding, more romantic, more enticing.

"What?" She asked, letting her cutlery fall to the plate. The clatter led into a long silence.

"Please," I whispered.

"Now?" She nearly giggled.

"Y-you'd be okay with that?" I asked, my eyes wide and desperate.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how..... worked up you've been lately," she crooned as she lifted off her chair. She swayed over to me and straddled my lap.

I was already hard underneath her. She was kissing me slowly and wetly. I was finding it hard to breathe correctly. My hands were all over me.

"Wanna get me pregnant?" She teased.

"Fuck yeah, wanna fill you with load after load," I said in a raspy voice.

She pulled off my top and I did the same to her. I felt up her breasts slowly and sensually. I imagined them full and leaking with milk. I shuddered as | imagined puffy nipples I could latch onto and partake from. She would be a goddess, and I would worship.

"Yeah?" She cooed. "Raw, bare, and deep?"

"Oh fuck," I gulped. I kissed her neck and played with her tits as she moaned and rubbed herself against my aching dick.

"Be the mother of my babies."

"Bedroom," she panted.

We were laughing and throwing our clothing. When we reached the bed we fell into bed in a fit of gasps and giggles.

"Fuck I love you," I groaned.

"I love you too. Let's make a baby Timothée," she said with a bright smile.

"Yes!" l agreed.

She handled my cock with her sweet hands. I laid back, watching her entrance. I wanted to see myself enter her raw. I wanted to watch myself disappear inside her bare, wet, cunt.

"Ohhhhhh," he both let out a breath as she guided the tip.

"Ready?" She asked as she posed to slide down.

"Balls deep?" I begged.

"So you can breed me," she agreed.

"Fuck," I responded as I throbbed. My girl slid slowly down. Both our mouthes hung open in lust as I bottomed out.

"Holy. Fuck," she stated plainly. That was all it took. She was bouncing and I was thrusting.

"Yes, yes, wanna make you fucking full, stuff your perfect cunt," I whined. My fingers held her hips firm so I could fuck into her like a wild thing.

"Fuck baby! Flood me with cum. I want you to breed my womb. Make me grow with your perfect semen," she whined.

The wetness was unlike anything l'd heard before. We slammed together over and over. We were both making sounds of intense need.

"You gonna keep my cum inside you? Yeah pretty girl? You gonna grow my baby?" I asked.

"Yes, mhm, I love it. Oh, fuck, baby, it feels so damn good. Your raw cock is ramming my fucking body," she cried out. The need in her voice was heaven.

"Need to get you pregnant. I need to put a baby in you," | heaved. I could feel my cock pulsating more than it ever had. I feared | wouldn't last long.

"Breed me like an animal. Spill all your cum inside me. I want to go over and over. I want to get round. I want to be filled with you," she whined. Her walls were clenching so much. She gripped me like a vice and her eyes were full of desperation.

"Every surface of the house," I promised. "I'll fuck a litter of pups inside you on every surface."

"Wanna grow with you," she whimpered.

"You gonna stay on my cock?" I asked.

"Always."

"I won't even need to eat. I can just drink milk from the heavy sweet breasts and I'll have enough energy to breed you," I tried out the idea. Her eyes went wide and I felt the climax of her pussy. She was so tight and squeezing me. She bit her lip in pure ecstasy and I had never heard the perfect moan that left her mouth. It was unlike anything.

"Yes!" Was all she could get out.

"M'gonna cum, l'm gonna fucking cum," | blabbered.

"Fill me, cream pie, make me round, give me your baby," she urged me.

"Be a mommy," I breathed and she nodded eagerly.

"I'm gonna put a fucking baby in you," I cried out as my orgasm took over. The eruption was wild. I couldn't breathe and I saw stars as my cock took over. Ropes of cum were filling her womb. I was thrusting without thinking, as my body jolted up and I exploded over and over.

She collapsed on top of me. I didn't take my dick out. I could feel the gooey load if unleashed into her cunt. It was running down onto my balls as we panted. She let out a small whine as I began to hump into her softly once again.

"Shhh, know you're tired," I soothed. I rubbed her back as I pressed my cock up and deeper.

"Just let me take care of it. I'll fuck my load deeper and give you another. Don't worry, I'll breed you. I'll keep you topped off."

"Thank you," she breathed, and she moaned at the sound of sloppy wetness of my cum being pushed further

[forcedagere]

I personally really like the idea of Bill x Reader x Ford. This one kinda ties into my previous post, but it’s not required reading. I suppose this would be an AU where Ford accepted Bill’s offer during Weirdmaggedon, or something else went wrong resulting in Bill staying in power :)

Contents: forced age regression, yandere, implied mental manipulation

Whereas Bill is far from the best caretaker (though he tries, in his own way), Ford takes care to create a semblance of structure in your life. He doesn’t have tons of practical experience with children or little ones such as you, but he makes up for it with dedication. He takes to caring for you as if it were a newly discovered, fascinating field of study. In other words… He reads many, many books, and tries all kinds of things to figure out what you like best.

Ford is not entirely fond of the kind of dynamic you have with Bill. It's not because he doesn't want to be referred to with parental terms, that's simply a matter of preference, but that he insists on you being friends above anything else. Considering the dynamics at play here, Ford cannot help but view it…

"As simply pedagogically irresponsible, Bill." The triangle in question rolls his eye. "Oh, boohoo! Fancy McFancypants over here knows what’s up!” Bill glances at you from the corner of his eye. Seeing you crack a smile while you’re sketching away with your crayons, he’s encouraged. “You read one book on how to raise a kid, and now you wanna tell me what to do? Get lost. Kid, c'mon, prove him wrong-- I'm your favourite, right?" You look up from your latest piece of art. You are drawing all three of you, in fact. You're usually deaf to their arguments, it's such a constant that you've grown used to the noise and stopped viewing it as a threat. (Your daddy calls it 'bickering'; Billy, when daddy isn't listening, calls it 'flirting'. That makes you giggle.) But you don't like getting involved in it yourself! So you firmly shake your head, and drop the pacifier attached to your necklace to speak. "No favourites… I love you both," you say with the confidence only someone as little as you could have. Billy's eyelid flutters, and your daddy smiles.

To put it simply, Bill is the ‘fun, rule-breaking parent’ and Ford is… A little less that. One should not take Bill Cipher as the benchmark of taking good care of a human, though.

Ford will make sure your meals are more varied than the endless stream of candy that Bill feeds you, and get you tucked in for sleep at regular times, too. Compared to Bill, who enjoys playing games with you and ‘roughhousing’, Ford prefers calmer activities. He’s definitely up for the occasional board game, but, most of the time, he’ll read to you, make drawings upon requests (or give you lessons!), or toy around with science experiments safe for someone who gets the urge to put anything that looks interesting inside their mouth.

He might’ve taken you for an adventure or two outside, but… The world hasn’t been the same since Bill got his hands all over it. He may be technically immortal now. You decidedly are not, as far as he knows. Either way, he doubts that Bill would let you out of this room to begin with. He doesn’t have to ask to be able to know that. If there is any reason he would keep someone locked up the way he does with you, it must be because you have some form of special connection to him. Ford does not believe he would risk that.

Really, Ford isn’t stupid or blind. It’s not that he’s going along with all of this because he is ignorant of Bill’s manipulation of your mental state. Bill can call it a ‘nudge in the right direction’ all he wants. He’s keeping you regressed. But everything has changed. He has changed, and Ford doesn’t know if he made the right decision. He fears he hasn’t. (Somewhere out there, in an alternate universe, a Stanford must live who made a difference decision. Ford hopes he’s happy.)

Spending time in this little contained room, with something dependent on him and eager to be looked after by him, who doesn’t know better and never will… It’s not good, it’s the very definition of selfish, but it’s comforting to him. Grounding, in a sense. With an eternity of time left ahead of him and the foundations of his previous life all but crumbled, he has something steady to return to. It doesn’t matter how much he rationalizes it. It’s twisted and fucked up, plain and simple.

…He supposes he can understand why Bill finds him so amusing, even now.

A little whimper snaps him from the spiral of his thoughts. Your bottle is empty. He should get youa refill, then pull you back on his lap.

[onskepa]

Halo Hello Halo! I hope you are having a mighty fine day/night!

I hope this is alright but could I request a neteyam x avatar,na'vi! Reader?

Basically the reader is pregnant with what's supposed to be their first born. However, fate would have it that y/n would give birth to triplets! A never before heard of phenomena, due to na'vi usually having children one at a time and even then twins were a very rare event to occur!

I dunno I just like the idea of reader giving birth to triplets much to the sully family's surprise. Plus I couldn't help but think of how funny it would be for neteyam to be pacing outside the door for hours and the almost faint when finds out he doesn't just have one or two babies, but three!

Hellooooooooo!! once I read your request I KNEW the pic for it! sorry it took a bit to make it but I hope you enjoy!

Syawn series

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Syawn

[had to lol]

It was night when the moment arrived. All of the Omatikaya gathered near the tent of the Tsahik as they prey for the woman who is about to be a mother. Loud screams echoed the forest, all the mother's recognize those screams. Screams of pain and love.

In the tent mo'at, neytiri, kiri and tuk were aiding in the labor of the woman whom goes by the loving name Syawn, a name called with love.

Syawn was about to bring her child to the world of pandora. But by Eywa it hurts!

Tuk does her best by holding Syawn's hand as means to reassure her and give her the push to keep going. But tuk can only do so much.

"mama she is gonna break my hand...!!!!" she squeaks in pain. Small tears ready to fall from her eyes. But her pleas and begging were tuned out by the screaming woman beside her.

Mo'at and kiri were very concerned. Yes it is normal for the women to scream and cry during the birthing process, but Sywan's screams were louder, more painful. Of all the years assisting mother's to birth, they know the difference in the screams and cries. This one was different. Not terrible, but also not good.

On the outside of the tent, Jake and lo'ak were doing their best to keep neteyam calm. As calm one can get as they hear their mates cries.

"bro you are going to make me dizzy just seeing you walking like that" lo'ak groans. Neteyam was walking back and forth to no end as he was lost in this thoughts.

"I can see a ditch being created" jake says as he tries to make light of things. "You're not making things any better" neteyam remarks, huffing and feeling tense.

His mate's screams seems to no end, the urge to go in there and hold her hand, whisper in her ear, to try anything to ease her pain. He understand labor is a difficult thing a mother must go through as means to bring life into the world. He has heard his own mother screams as she births his siblings.

Jake having enough, he gets up from where he was sitting and grabs neteyam by the shoulders, looking at him eye to eye. "I know what you are feeling. I was there. I know you want to be with her, comfort her and want to take away her pain. Believe me son, I know. But your grandmother and sister knows what they are doing. They have done the same process many times. If it will make you feel better, why not go to the spirit tree?" he offers.

Neteyam didnt felt any better but knows his father speaks from his good heart. He was about to respond when the screams stopped. Silence all around now.

Fear and panic washed over neteyam. Fearing the worst, he runs towards the tend when tuk ran out, a big smile on her face.

"they are born!! they are here!!" she grabs her brothers hand and drags him into the tent.

He enters, the first thing he sees is his mate sleeping peacefully, exhausted from the process. He softly places a kiss on her nose, doing a small payer to Eywa that she had made it through. After making sure she is ok, he turns to his left.

And there, in a soft lighting from the lantern, shows mo'at, neytiri and kiri each holding one baby in their arms.

It wasnt one, nor two, but three na'vi babies. All small and very cute.

Mo'at looked at her newly born great grandchildren rather in shock and disbelief. Birthing one single child is common, twins is a extreme rarity, but three children at once? Impossible. A true blessing given by great mother Eywa.

Neytiri was also in shock but happy. Jake has explained he was a twin himself, that he had another half of himself. She understood she would have mostly likely birth twins. But it never happened.

To see three na'vi babies born at the same time, she felt lucky to witness such a scene. Possibly something that would only ever happen once.

Kiri was way too happy. Such a phenomenon right before her eyes! No doubt Eywa has blessed her sister to be this fertile. A wonderful gift to have.

The three children were exactly identical. Little tuffs of hair, shining bioluminescent dots decorated on their small little bodies, small hands and feet, their tails curled to their sides, making small noises. Cute ears pinned back, little round but definitely ears of na'vi.

Neteyam was shocked beyond words, lo'ak and jake enter to feel the same way.

"Well I be damned...." jake muttered.

Lo'ak chuckled in disblief. "Three? how is that even possible?"

"its not...this has never happened" mo'at replies.

Jake huffs a bit, smiling to see his first grandchildren. "I bet you are feeling excited aren't you neteyam?"

THUMP!!

Everyone turns to see neteyam passed out flat on the floor.

"neteyam?"

Ngl, I low-key want to make a part 2 to this. Whatchu guys think? lemme know! Hope yall enjoyed!

Syawn = blessing.

[neetily]

↳ EVENT 20. M!Alex DOL (Breeding & Jealousy Sex)

— ✧ warnings: Breeding, Fluff, Fluffy, Established Relationship, pregnancy ment, very vague mention of typical DOL trauma — ✧ word count: 4,642 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

After a strong urging for you to take a much needed break in the midst of moving into the old farmhouse, boxes piling up as high as they can possibly fit—honestly, he's got no idea how you could have packed so many items from what sounded like a relatively small room back at the orphanage—he takes the opportunity to sift through your belongings for you. Not in a snooping way! He'd just like to help you as much as possible, seeking your consent before even opening a new box. Once you nod at him though, he gives you a hefty pat on the back to help scurry you away for some relaxation, his voice cheery and loud despite the tiredness that rests in his bones from already helping you lift everything up the stairs. "Don't worry, by the time you're done chilling I'll have most of this done for you!"

And he means it, because he wants to be dependable. Wants so desperately to be someone you can rely on, who you can seek strength and stability from— in all senses of the word. But right now, he means physical strength. Making sure you're settled enough in the kitchen with a nice cool glass of lemonade before he heads back up stairs, eager to get the bulk of the unpacking done tonight so that the farm feels just as much of your space as it is his. Seeking to drench you in as much of married life as possible, even if he's yet to propose. It's just, well... He can't imagine sharing the farm with anyone but you. Pretty little you, God, even just the thought of calling you his wife genuinely fills his chest with butterflies. But a princess needs a throne, and he's eager to situate you on his bed by the time night falls.

Which means doing the dreaded unpacking. Better him than you, he thinks. You can rely on him for whatever, okay? Even something as simple as picking items up and placing them down; he'd do just about anything for you.

"All right," He lets out a loud sigh, tightening the belt looped around his ratty old trousers to show the room itself he means business. Ain't no one, and no thing, gonna stand in the way of the love of his life enjoying her time in the farmhouse, even the messy room created by your overabundance of things. "Time to get to work."

And he's quick with it too, all those days training in the barn, tending the fields, carrying and counting inventory; it's all lead up to this moment. Unknowingly training to move his love into his room, the shared space quickly becoming more and more your own with how much he pulls from the boxes, the thought of which causes his chest to tighten with adoration. A dumb smile plastered on his face as he finds and looks through a small photo album. He's not sure if he was the intended audience, but he takes the private opportunity regardless. Wouldn't you? A secret glimpse into your life before him, soft little aww's and quiet little laughs shared only between himself and the precious versions of you in the album. It's nice getting to see this side of you, learning all about what sort of memories you hold close enough to your heart to add to the book. His thumb smooths over a couple of really endearing photos of you— particularly when you were younger. He can only hope to be added to your collection some day in the future, his cheeks heating up at the mere thought.

Carefully, he places the book into your bedside cabinet for safe keeping. Intending on talking to you about all of the pictures later on tonight, whether they embarrass you or not. You were a cute kid, too. In the meantime though, he keeps sifting through your boxes to find and place more sentimental items.

And, oh! There's another album. A bit bigger, and a whole lot fuller than the other one. Giddy with excitement to explore more of you, he tenderly picks it up to flip through. Except, what he doesn't expect is the contents of this album, thought it'd be difficult to describe his feelings as anything resembling disappointment.

"Oh, wow." He gasps to himself, marvelling at the professional quality of the images in this album; almost as if you had them done at a studio or the likes. His curiosity piqued, he continues to flip. One after the other, his skin slowly prickling with heat the further he progresses.

With each new page, another item of clothing seems to disappear from your body. A sickly feeling bubbling away in his tummy, like a car crash. It feels bad to continue looking, like he's found something he really shouldn't have, but he just can't stop. A shake in his hands present as he turns page after page, his heart sinking at the sight of you eventually stark naked in photographic form. An evidence trail of your life before him, God, fuck, he knows he shouldn't be feeling so sick to his stomach but he can't fucking help it.

You're just so pretty in the photos, posing perfectly, like a practiced model would. Fuck, you should have told him you had these photos done, even if only to satiate his own perverted curiosity. Cock tenting in his tight jeans, regret mixing with the jealousy in his tummy from tightening his belt earlier. The more he stares, and the more he flips, the bigger his bulge grows. Not just because of how pretty you look, but because he's envious. Red with selfish resentment— not at you, God, never would he be mad at you for something like this. But at everyone else? Fuck, of course he's upset! Angered at the mere idea of anyone else seeing you look so pretty and exposed, and more than likely not appreciating you for how precious you are. Sick with worry over whether you had intended on him seeing the pictures or not, and then even more troubled at the prospect of these images being the product of coercion; he's not forgotten about all of those horrible stories you told him of your life before the farm, his heart hurting for you even now as he recalls the shared tears late at night.

He feels a lot of things, really. Jealousy mixing with lust mixing with worry mixing with fear. He's so... So in love with you that he just wants to make sure you're okay, yeah. That's all. Tossing the album to the side unlike how delicately he treated the previous photos, and swiftly undoing his belt buckle, adjusting his half hard cock up to rest at his waistband for now. Hard on aside, he stomps down the old creaky stairs with his cheeks ablaze, tunnelling straight to the kitchen where your pretty face is illuminated by the golden hour sun.

Shit, he's immediately out of breath. The sight of you tilting your head back at him so curiously like that is so cute, and for a moment he forgets all about his worries in favour of simply watching you, looking at you with hearts in his eyes as if you were the sun itself. You've got no idea—no matter how often he tries to show you—just how much he loves you. How a single glance from you is all it takes to have his cock twitching in his pants out of sheer love, greedy with how much he desires you, to make you feel okay, to place a balm over those old wounds you've shared with him by pulling you into a tight unprompted hug.

"A-Alex—! What's gotten into you?" You giggle all cute and shit as you gently wrap your arms around his neck in reciprocation and it's probably his most favourite sound in the whole wide world. So soft and light, a reminder that there is good yet on this awful Earth.

He takes a moment before replying. Keeping his hips away from your tummy in fear of ruining the soft moment with his unfortunately hardening cock; he just loves you a whole lot, okay? Too busy tightening his arms around you, squeezing your body against his own, arching over you to inadvertently press your head right against his chest. "I uh... Found your lil modelling portfolio upstairs and—" Well, there isn't an and. Or, there is, but there are too many of them. Various questions swirling in his occupied mind, he can't decide which one to settle on first, leaving dead air between two bodies that he resolves simply by inhaling your scent. A soothing balm to his anxious mind.

You're the first to actually break the silence. "Oh, I see... They're nice pics, right?"

"Too fuckin' right they are," He laughs above you, squeezing you once more before letting go, only so that he can easily lift you up in the air and place you gently down on the kitchen counter; the sun hitting your face in such a sweet fashion that he's almost pouty about it. "So fuckin' pretty, God... Can't believe yer all mine now." He huffs, knitting his brows together out of unadulterated frustration for how attractive he finds you. It's a bit of a nuisance, especially as his cock presses heavy against the edge of the counter, made worse only by the way your legs innately hook around his waist like he was home, pulling him closer so that he's in reach to lightly rub his nose against yours.

The way you're acting almost unbothered in response to his prompting just about calms his racing mind and heart completely, a large hand coming around to wrap securely at your back, the other playing with stray strands of your hair between his thumb and forefinger. It's difficult to ignore just how hard he's getting, not only from the close proximity he's sharing with you right now, but because he feels this primal urge to prove his worth. A deeply buried nature of his to be on top, secure his position by your side by any means possible. Dumb caveman brain convinced he has to show you exactly that with his cock, which he'll get to, he just has to completely settle the score first.

"Were they... Y'know, consensual?" He whispers, afraid that if he were to ask any louder then the worst could come true. His grip on you is equally as careful, unwanting to damage you during such a vulnerable conversation.

And the brief pause you offer him before replying, simply blinking at his intense gaze, fills him with even more worry. Though it's easily and promptly forgotten about the moment you open your pretty lips again. "Oh, yeah! I just needed a bit of extra cash and— Alex... I hope you aren't upset about them?"

No, fuck, he didn't mean to worry you in return! Doing his best to rectify his misgivings by offering you a quick peck on the lips, worsening his already swollen and twitchy cock that just begs for release, now that he knows that you weren't at all tricked into revealing your pretty body. Your comfort is his top priority, first and foremost. Cock be damned.

"No it's— I don't mind, I get it." He swiftly reassures you, making a point to rub soothing circles against your lower back. The world is a scary place, and he'd never shame you for whatever you had to do to survive, y'know? "It's just... I mean, I dunno, fuck," He sighs, frustrated with his inability to verbalise his feelings accurately, all his wants and wishes getting tangled up due to the lack of blood circulating his brain. S'your fault, he muses to himself. If his cock wasn't so hard, he's sure he'd be able to articulate exactly why he's feeling so conflicted right now, pressing his erection against the counter edge to seek some release.

He exhales, and he tries again.

"Y'should take some just fr'me next time. Can't believe the whole town got t'see ya like that before me." All huffy and pouty sounding, resting his forehead against your own when you laugh sweetly at him again. He knows he's acting childish, but when it comes to you, he can't seem to help himself from acting so petulantly. Doesn't the universe understand who you belong to?

A low hum breathed against his lips pulls him back from his indulgent thoughts, your tone genuine and sincere when you regard him. "... Are you jealous, Alex?"

His back straightens at your accurate assumption. "Sure am! You got no idea, babe," playful paws tug at your top, an indication of want, or need? He settles on the latter, given how hard his cock throbs for you when you smile gently back at him, like you understand his plight. "Wanna show everyone that yer mine now. S'at okay?"

"Course it is, whatever you'd like."

With your blessing, he decides to immediately indulge. Maybe a little too much to your liking, keeping his idea of claim a secret for now as he eagerly paws at you. Not out of a genuine attempt to withhold information, but rather, he's far too focused on the pretty girl right in front of him to even think about spilling all of his thoughts. Too busy unbuttoning his pants and swiftly throwing his shirt to the side, prompting your legs to reattach to his hips once he's helped you undress your lower half too.

But when you move to take off your shirt too, he stops you. Tense fist wrapped a bit too tightly around your wrist in his utter urgency to stop you.

"Keep it on. Y'look so nice right now, the way the sun is hittin' ya?" He wolf whistles, a boyish smirk plastered on his face when you shy away from his affections, instinctively closing the remaining gap between two bodies only to feel his already drooling tip press between your folds. Accidentally, at first. And then more purposefully when you don't pull away, his ego stroked tremendously when you cling to his neck once again, seeking comfort in the form of his upright, clenched, toned body; just how he likes. Rely on me, he begs of you with a slow push of his hips forward, gasping openly at how sweet you sound when his tip rocks lightly against your clit. Need me, he implores when he settles his hands on the edge of the kitchen counter, grasping on to it for dear life as he resolves to a simple back and forth. Slow enough to relieve some of the built up tension in his body, to ease the ache of jealousy coursing through him, aiding his lewd actions; but also slow enough to tease you. To get your nails digging into his back out of sheer desperation to see how far he can go, how jealous can he get?

You'll see. Fuck, you'll see soon enough, cause he's so hard. Can you feel how he throbs against your puffy clit? Dripping jealousy from his tip, fat beads of precum trailing down your pretty little slit as a confession of love. See how much I spill for you? he asks with every hump, pace increasing minimally with every thrust. A promise for more, his mind full of nothing but love for you. Or, maybe horny love suits better. A man dumb with it, peering down at you with a half lidded gaze and drooling all over your cunt with affection. From his point of view, he can see down your shirt too. Salivating at the sight of your hidden tits, raising one hand up just to play with em. A light squeeze here, a full grab there.

"What, um... What are you planning on— Oh—" His tip catches on your hole, effectively shutting you up for a second or two as he continues to rock against you. Not inside yet, just taunting you from above, teasing his fat tip in circles around your hole until you finish your words.

He only wishes the world was here with him to witness how easily you fall apart on his cock. How well he treats you, cooing down at you with only the utmost amount of love and affection. Doting on you like he's never been in love before, pecking your forehead as a reminder to continue in spite of the cock between your legs and the hand on your tits.

You gulp before replying, and he takes it as thanks for making you feel so good. Good enough to distract you from your train of though, even if only momentarily. "What are you planning on doing, Alex?"

To show the world who you belong to? Well, he thinks to himself. There's really only one way to completely claim you, isn't there? A knowing smirk making its way to his lips, quickly turned into an open mouthed moan at the way you angle your hips against his tip; a silent plea for more. And who is he to deny his future wife anything that she wants? Helping you into position with big strong hands, keeping you pinned on top of the counter and dipping his hips down, only pushing them up and forward when he's sure he's got your attention on him for the big reveal. "Just—" He pushes forward a little more, sinking into the feeling of your cunt accepting his tip by dropping his forehead to your shoulder, moving the groping hand on your tit to the small of your back to help pull you closer to him, to meet his hips. "Gonna knock y'up, 'kay? That way," He stops mid sentence again, spurred on to hold his breath by the extra tight squeeze of your cunt upon hearing his words; pretty pussy likes that idea, doesn't she? Stretching you out with his words, cock pulsing against your squishy insides with the promise of breeding you so full that there's no way anyone would not know that you were taken. That the pretty girl they must have seen all over town, pictured on billboards, magazines, wherever the fuck your images were used, is not single, but a loving, gorgeous, beloved mother. Pinned down to his used kitchen counter, panting heavily against his bare chest, angling her hips towards him until he finally gives her all of his cock and she's flush to his own body. That's who you are, aren't you?

"That way, nobody will touch y'ever again." He finally finishes his sentence now that he's buried balls deep into your little cunt, humming lowly to himself from how soft and warm it is inside of you, how your walls thrum along his length with pleasure. Pretty girl, you're always so good to him, you'll let him show his love for you in the most permanent way possible, won't you? A little breeding, just a smidge, really. Heavy breeder balls taut between his legs as he warms his cock inside of you, inhaling sharp and deep through his nose due to how annoyingly good it feels to just rest his cock inside your cunt. Little hole twitching around him, insides squirming as if begging for him to continue.

And so he does; slowly. A lazy draw of his hips back, a gentle push of them forward again, really making you feel every single inch his cock has to offer your perfect angel cunt. A sigh escapes him in return, partly due to how in love he is just rocking into you like this, how completely adorable you look when shivering on the countertop before him, the feeling of your thighs shaking around his fit waist coaxing more precum out to coat your insides sticky. But also, sighing because he's so happy. For once, a lazy afternoon is spent nicely. "Pretty little things like you have t'be knocked up, y'see," He elaborates, flashing you a signature smile to allude to his joking intent. Though, his smile is quickly wiped off his face and replaced with a more serious furrow of his brows when you pout so prettily up at him, bottom lip quivering from how fat his cock is; splitting you in two, is he?

"Otherwise—" He thrusts, hard. A full length fuck inside of your tiny little hole so that you're forced to accommodate his size, the resulting high pitched whine you let out from the unfair entry leaves him more than a little breathless. Gasping for air, wanting so badly to prove himself not just to you, but to the whole fucking world that he's worth you. He's worth all of your love and attention, above all and anyone else. And that starts by impregnating you, right? I mean, it makes sense in his lust addled mind right now, looking down between your legs only to get hypnotised by the sight of his big cock disappearing into such a little space over and over again. "Others might get the wrong idea, right? That yer free, and I wont let that happen t'ya ever again. Promise, fuck— Keep, keep squeezin' me like that 'n I won't last long, babe."

Your hands scratch and tug on his skin, grasping for any semblance of stability as he pounds you into the counter, fast fucks that have your body rocking back and forth with him. "Can't—" You whine pitifully, but you sound oh so cute when you can't help but express enjoyment for his rough fucking, both hands planted firmly on your ass to lift you mid air a little, allowing him an easier leverage to fuck you as fast as he wants to now. "Can't help it, Alex— Ah! You feel so good—" Absolute need present in his touch given your ego stroking words, how greedy he is with fistfuls of your ass, desperately leaning closer to you just so that he can shove his tongue into your open moaning mouth and suckle on your tongue. Dripping saliva for you to swallow as much as he sucks all of yours down his throat. Greedy with his thrusts, hammering his hips into you at such a speed that he even feels a little dizzy with it, but he can't seem to stop himself from humping forward again and again when your angel cunt sucks his cock off so well, fuck.

You've ruined him, truthfully. His heart happy at the thought of being not only your husband, but the father of your future child. Knowing that you think he's an acceptable enough partner to care for your child turns him on so much, it's a little silly. Has him moaning loud against your lips and drooling precum about as much as he drools over your tits. Sloppy with his kiss and his fucks, his hips stuttering into you when you pull away from his face just to pull his body closer.

Can you feel how hard his heart beats for you when you snuggle your face against his chest? Feel the tacky sweat coating his skin, the amount of effort he's putting into pounding you in the kitchen is proof of how much he loves you, y'know? Perhaps a bit too possessively so, seeing as when he lifts you higher to instead place you gently down onto the much more suitable cock height table, he's still fucking into you with each step he makes towards the old thing, like he can't even fathom the thought of giving you a slight break from his heavy balls slapping against your ass with the promise of seed.

But you look so cute under him like that, his hands at either side of you mussed up hair, taking in the sight of your heaving chest with an almost pained expression himself. It only takes a single look down at your hole, a ring of cream marking his cock as if it were your own claim, for him to start thumbing away at your pretty neglected clit. So glossy and shiny for him, the feeling of your slick gushing out with every frantic fuck he gives your hole causing his head to be thrown back momentarily; he can't keep his eyes off of you for too long.

"Gonna be such a good mom, I jus' know it." He slurs above you, voice strained from how fast he fucks, barely able to catch his breath enough in time to dote on you some more. "Even better wife, if y'ask me—" A smile breaks out on his face, borne out of how well your tight little cunt attempts to milk him already, as if asking: please!

But, to show just how serious he is about reminding the town of who you belong to, he indulges you first. Flicks his thumb over your swollen clit with purpose, still yet fucking into you, but with imprecise thrusts. Too fixated on how your back seems to arch every time his thumb circles your clit, aided by the copious amounts of slick you drip onto his cock. Dipping his hand down to collect some more before returning back to your sensitive spot, pressing down a little more firmly until he feels that tell tale quiver of your insides.

Still hammering his hips into you, helping you remain in place as his thrusts threaten to fuck you off the table, loud with how hard his body smacks against your own, he encourages you. "C'mon," He leers at you, sending you a lopsided smirk at the way you writhe and wail for release. You're so close, he can tell. "Go an' cum on my cock, it's okay."

And to show just how much you accept his affections, to reply with yes, you've proven yourself worthy, he watches with dirty intent and narrow eyes as you do exactly that. Convulsing around his fat cock to beg for his seed, your hands on his own to coax his orgasm out, the tender domestic nature of your touch as you cream his cock goes right through him, straight down to his taut balls before he even has a chance to warn you of how close he is. Simply folding in on himself, pressing his toned chest against your smaller body as he rocks his hips into you with milking purpose. Moaning a cry of your name, pressing his lips against your cheeks, neck, lips, fuck; wherever he can reach, really. Babbling nonsense praise at you as he idly fucks himself empty into your abused hole, bullying his fat load as deep as possible in hopes of impregnating you on the first fuck.

Though, now that he's gaining a bit more clarity to be able to think about the ramifications of that, having to fuck you several times until his seed takes root doesn't sound too bad, actually. Breathing heavily against your face when he holds himself up to take in the sight of how ruined his future wife looks when full of cum. To the brim too, some of it seeping out around his cock from how fat he still is, still giving you miniscule little humps as he comes down from such a powerful high.

"You uh— I mean, fuck," He laughs above you, the dumb dopey smile you flash him has him a little awestruck, if he's honest. His fingertips just itching to squish your chubby little cheeks for eternity so that he can always place kisses upon such a cute expression. "I meant it, jus' so y'know. Wanna make ya a mommy."

"I know, Alex."

Three words. Quite simple, really. But they're all it takes for him to know that he's found his future wife for real, and that he need not worry about the town ever again. And as such, neither will you. Not while he's still by your side.

[pyroclastic727]

The Marvels is being scathed by critics, and that's a good thing.

I finally saw The Marvels today. I'm a bit late to the party, so all I saw about the movie was the teaser at the end of Ms Marvel, and way too many critical reviews of it.

Now, obviously on Tumblr you find the good reviews, like, the cats outnumbering the white men and how Kamala Khan is, like, basically all of us. But in person, I've had someone tell me that it's bad because Rotten Tomatoes rates it 43%, which-- besides wondering why anyone would listen to Rotten Tomatoes, I'd have to wonder why the website would give it such a low rating. The easy answer is that the Tomatoes review committee is populated by white men, who, upon having no one to relate to, react badly to the movie. But I think there's more to it.

The Marvels is a revolution. Through its character-driven writing and brazen exploration of morality, it rewrites the superhero formula completely, by questioning what exactly it means to be a superhero.

The Marvels was directed by Nia DaCosta, an award-winning Harlem native and creative visionary whose approach to this film was to define these characters as humans, not as superheroes. Her approach to heroism directly addresses that the idea that a hero is not always right. A hero, DaCosta claims, is "someone who's trying their best with the information and tools they have at the time. They'll always get it wrong." Carol Danvers's arc directly addresses this, as the resolution of her subplot involves her re-igniting the sun that she snuffed out. Her heroic act is to undo the damage that she wrought.

When compared to old Marvel, this message just doesn't come through. In WandaVision, Wanda's grief is for a family that was killed by the Avengers. Yet, she is painted as a villain, even as she searches for a happy home, even as she at one point joins the Avengers. The Avengers cannot undo what they did, and don't really try. They defeat the big bad, sacrifice their lives, but nothing brings back Wanda's family. Nothing undoes that war. No one searches for Wanda after the event, to try to help her with her grief, except for Monica, and she's working against orders. Their heroics are militant, but while they excel at destruction, they leave the people they hurt in the dust.

This antiheroic plot of old Marvel is precisely what appealed to so many American audiences. Their protagonists are: a rich corporation, a super-soldier, a privileged teenager, a scientist who makes weapons, an ex-convict, a man born into godlike power, and I'm sure there are others but I don't actually care that much... (these would be iron man, captain america, peter parker spiderman, hulk, antman, thor, and etc). All these archetypes appeal to American ideals that the wealthy would sympathize with. They claim that there are people who are inherently bad and seek the power that they have, in the way that a poor person might want a job that a wealthy person wants their child to secure. They claim that it is their business to save those which cannot save themselves, and use this to get involved in wars that are not theirs, and beat up badguys whose backstory they have no way of knowing-- and they punch before they stop and listen.

They are cops in every sense of the word. The responsibility of the vigilante is to defend against evil, but part of that responsibility is to figure out who exactly is evil and who is in need of help.

The Marvels creates a team that tries to distinguish evil from good, and delves into the grey area between them. The final battle between Carol Danvers and Dar-benn has the superhero pinning the grey-haired antagonist to the ground as she begs for, then demands, that Carol fix what she damaged. Monica urges her to listen. Through this, The Marvels argues that a hero does not always beat up the bad guy and fight against unrelenting evil, but that a hero can be wrong, and that a hero can reconsider. It's kindness in the way that is revolutionary, where it's much easier to choose cruelty.

The fact that the movie is getting torn apart by critics, then, is not just because it is a "girls movie" or it doesn't have a strong white man for the white male viewer to sympathize with. The Marvels cannot appeal to Marvel fans because it rewrites the genre itself. It takes a film series whose purpose was to depict the struggles of cops, of the wealthy, of people with too much power who are trying to learn how to responsibly wield it, but don't. And it gives that power to people who have watched superheroes try and fail, who are slowly learning to be better heroes than the ones before them.

The next generation is a critique of the last, a group trying not to make the mistakes of the chosen ones that came before them, and as such, the movie exists to critique the movies that came before it. Therefore, a viewer of Marvel who would positively review it, due to sympathizing with the previous heroes and enjoying the power fantasy, would dislike it out of its existence being critical and contradictory to the films they like themselves.

The Marvels is not for Marvel fans-- at least, not those who saw the Avengers as purely heroes. Instead, the film reaches out to people who would have been against the old Avengers, who want a story that dismantles the unquestioned idealism of superheroes and writes about people trying to protect their communities and the people they care about.

So, let the critics complain. The MCU is shedding its roots as a pro-cop and pro-colonialism power fantasy, and evolving into an exploration of what it means to be a true hero.