#people are allowed to have plans outside of you

[thepersonperson]

Gege is doing to his characters what they did to jfk there's so much character assassination happening djsjdsnsdjn

This ask was sent to me shortly after I complained about JJK 269 leaks. (Aka before JJK 270's release so be nice to them.) And while I still agree that chapter contained character assassinations, JJK 270 has given me a good reason for them. 

Since my other post related to this topic was trimmed down by Tumblr’s 30 image limit, I’m going to use this ask as an excuse to this burning question...

Why does everyone feel so out of character in JJK 268–270?

Notes before we start.

1) Read the light novels. They are the equivalent of Bleach's CFYOW for JJK. There is a fan translation (Book 1 & Book 2), but I will be citing the official translation from my own copies.

2) I will be mainly using the TCB scans for the manga because of their accessibility. 

4) Written as of JJK 270.

5) Read the light novels.

(Another extremely 'hear me out' discussion under the cut. Click pictures for captions/citations.)

Preface

This post is banking on the framework I set up in the previous related post so please read/skim over it. (If you don't? Just hear me out!)

Short Summary of the Previous Related Post:

Yuji is projecting a massive delusion onto Megumi that gives him a happy ending. JJK 268–270 is a mesh of Yuji and Megumi’s memories and dreams that serve to rationalize all that’s happened to them in a way that allows them to forgive themselves. Sukuna’s vessel memories are probably mixed in too.

Because of this I’m assuming the following:

>The battle recollection in JJK 269 is Yuji constructing explanations from his, Megumi, and Sukuna’s memories during their battle. Neither of these 3 ever knew the plan in full. This can explain why so much of the battle recollection is wrong.

>The characters we see outside of Yuji and Megumi are constructs based on their memories of these people. They’re more like representations than the actual characters.

I don’t know if it means they’re dead or not, but that doesn’t matter. I want to explore the way the characters feel off can be explained by them being memory constructs.

In the previous post, I used "Without love it cannot be seen." from Umineko to give my best faith reading of these past 3 chapters I've hated so much. This time the tool I'll be using is:

"Flipping over the chessboard."

This refers to how one should try to see things from a different perspective.

Memory in JJK

A neat touch that has always been around in JJK is characters remembering others as they last saw them. When Gojo recalls his best students, Hakari has a very different hair style from when we meet him. His recollection of Yuta's is accurate though. When Panda recalls Yuta, the hairstyle differs from what Gojo recalls. And when he recalls Kiara, he mistakenly refers to her as a guy.

This all can be explained by considering when Gojo and Panda last saw these characters. Gojo last saw Yuta in Kenya with Miguel where he changed his hairstyle. Panda hasn't seen Yuta since he's left the country. Neither Gojo or Panda have seen Hakari and Kiara for a very long time.

Their memories reflect how they last knew them. Kiara is a whole girl now and Hakari is blond. But if Panda and Gojo never saw them again? Those memories would be true to them, even if it’s no longer accurate.

And sometimes the memories aren’t accurate. See this side by side recollection of Gojo meeting Megumi from both of their perspectives.

I believe Gojo’s memory of this event is the accurate one because he’s 19 when it happens, not under distress when he recalls it, and has the Six Eyes which act like a supercomputer. Megumi’s memory is iffy because he’s 6 when it happens, has a head injury that knocks him out when he recalls this, and doesn’t have perception enhancing abilities. And though Megumi can’t recall the memory in its truest form, what he does remember still tells us a lot about his feelings towards the event and his relationship with Gojo.

The emotions child Megumi felt at the time distort what Gojo was actually like back then. Instead of a benefactor, he’s a suspicious weirdo with a funny face. The heart behind Gojo crouching down to his level, being way too honest with him, trying to give him options, patting him on the head—it’s all missing.

With all this in mind, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume Megumi and Yuji’s impressions of other characters via memory would influence how they appear in these delusions too. Yuji’s impressions probably take the most precedence since I think his will is shaping the delusions the most.

Recalling Incomplete Information 

Yuji is very good at understanding people. He can intuit their feelings and sync up with them easily. (I go over this in greater detail in this post.) But that doesn’t mean he fully understands their hearts. He gets close enough to their core to bond with them, but the little details aren’t quite right. 

If all the characters (save Megumi) we’ve been seeing in JJK 268–270 are constructs based on Yuji’s perception of them, I think this can explain everything off about them.

What made me consider this possibility was JJK 270. There’s this pattern I keep seeing... Characters’ motivations being misunderstood and being resolved by scenarios that aren’t quite right. Every time I try to explain what exactly is wrong with them, assuming their inconsistencies align with Yuji’s perception of them solves the problem.

Amai Rin

Rin is introduced as a coward. He’s unable to fight and goes along with the whims of those stronger than him to avoid getting hurt. This is why he keeps his head low as his friend is being harassed by bullies during his Jr. High days. Still, he tries to help. Just not at a risk to himself.

When Yuji saves his friend and beats all the bullies up, he turns to Rin and assumes he was part of the bully group. This simply isn’t true. He was a bystander. That’s why it’s weird for him to apologize like he was the one who beat the guy up.

Yuji’s false impression of Rin, one where he’s a bully that feels guilt over his actions, explains this. Rin’s actual guilt comes from him being a bystander—someone who doesn’t take action for others when something is wrong. He dealt with that in the Culling Games by helping Yuji and risking his life to save Angel. And he really stepped out of his comfort zone to join the medical team for the Sukuna battle. He might be the reason Yuta survived. (Yuji doesn’t know about that though.)

And what’s this? Here Yuji outright admits he doesn’t fully understand what kind of person Rin is. All he knows is that he did some good things and is trying to become a better person. So now we’ve got this other Rin that’s apologizing for something he didn’t do for the redemption he’s already earned.

(And that’s the pattern! Rin’s motivation is misunderstood by Yuji so he’s doing something that seems out of character to us readers, but is perfectly in character for Yuji’s perception of him. When I apply it to everyone else. Everything makes sense.)

Takaba Fumihiko

What Yuji knows about Takaba is pre-Kenjaku development. Yuji knows the Takaba that speaks over others, rejects their criticisms, and insists he’s funny. That’s kind of what he’s doing to Totally Not Kenjaku. In reality, Kenjaku caused Takaba to reflect on his approach to comedy and they are nearly in perfect sync by the end of it. Kenjaku satisfied Takaba.

Yuji didn’t see that battle and he hasn’t spoken to Takaba since. So he’s constructed a happy ending where Takaba has found his partner and is working towards the show of his dreams that already happened.

I also want to note that Takaba is 100% ok with sex jokes. Kenjaku makes one and he doesn’t object to it. This is just another little detail that makes everything so slightly off.

Higuruma Hiromi

Yuji knows that Higurama wants to go back to his roots. He knows that he feels guilt over killing people.

What he doesn’t know is that Higurama’s roots are him being a defense lawyer that cherishes the flaws of humanity. He doesn't want to ever look away from the impurities that even Yuji has. That’s why I think Yuji resolves his problems with him becoming a sorcerer who saves lives.

Yuji seems to think that Higuruma is like him. He’ll make up for the lives he’s taken via sorcery by saving more. That’s something he could assume from their convo, but that’s not actually what Higuruma wants. He wants to fundamentally change Japan’s legal system for the better in his own way.

Kurusu Hana

She’s the most in character of the bunch. In fact, there’s nothing out of character about her interaction with Megumi. What she represents is Yuji misunderstanding Megumi’s desires.

Yuji understands that Megumi’s type is someone with an unwavering humanity (literally the definition of Yuji’s name) via access to his memories. But for some reason (he’s kind of dumb academically), he thinks this means Hana is perfect for him. 

I think this is because Hana meets Yuji’s definition of a good person. She’s just like Megumi. She saves others for a selfish purpose. And that means…Hana does not meet Megumi’s definition of a good person. Not once has he considered her saving others as selfless. (...But Yuji has.)

And that’s just facts. Hana is kind of unhinged. She’s extremely possessive of Megumi and saves others solely to win him over. Yuji saves others because it’s the right thing to do.

Megumi’s preferences are Yuji, not Hana. Which has led to the most awkward confession and rejection scene. That might have clued Yuji in to construct an alternative. In the memory Yuji is probably recalling, Todo does clock Megumi as someone into dudes.  …The very next scene is Yuji hitting on a dude in front of his gf in a way that causes him to blush. (Yuji has not once complimented someone’s body up to this point if I recall correctly. And he’s been around some beefy dudes.)

(Yeah Nobara me too. Second most leftfield possible bisexual confirmation I’ve read in a manga. The first will always be from Baki the Grappler.)

Is this Yuji letting Megumi know it’s ok to come onto him? Is he not initiating because Hana’s forwardness freaked Megumi out? It’s possible. 

What this suggests is that Yuji is kind of fine tuning this whole delusion to make Megumi as content as possible. It’s telling that the moment Megumi starts getting super uncomfortable the scene jumps to something else.

It happens at the beginning of the chapter too. Gojo is mentioned by Shoko in a way that causes Megumi to pause. And Bam! Change scene.

Anyways, I hope this demonstrates that Yuji working with the limited information from memories is most likely the reason for everything being so funky. It’s character assassination by accident.

Why make these happy endings when this is all for Megumi?

Two reasons as to why I think Yuji is trying to give everyone a plausible happy ending.

1) He genuinely wants them to live good lives.

2) It has to be believable for Megumi to accept them as real and forgive himself.

This line may have been about Yuji, but Megumi’s not any different. He blames himself in the exact same way Yuji blames himself.

I also think there's something to be said about Yuji crafting a dream that resembles the perfect cookie cutter Shonen ending. The guy gets with girl he has no chemistry with. All these complicated plot lines are wrapped up with a neat little bow. Everyone lives and goes on like nothing traumatic happened.

Yuji is a big fan of Shonen. Straight up his final move against Sukuna is a Hunter X Hunter reference. That's not just Gege doing a reference as a fan, Yuji himself is a fan of that manga.

I think Yuji is trying to make this fiction a reality because it's the only way he knows how to cope with his trauma.

JJK 269’s Character “Assassinations”

I promise I still hate this chapter. But I won’t deny how fun it is to pretend these are all delusions Yuji created for Megumi’s sake. I went over Kusakabe to cut him some slack in the previous post, so let’s do everyone else.

(The chapter’s formatting as one long unending nightmare makes it hard to separate this stuff out by the character. I’m just going to do groups this time.)

The 2nd Years

The most common complaint from readers outside of Kusakabe telling Yuji he should’ve died is Maki being really fudging mean to Yuta. Maki is mean, but she’s not that mean. You could assume this is her showing Yuta she cares and that her anger scales with worry but… Here’s a side by side comparison of her getting angry over Yuta risking his life in Vol 0 vs JJK 269.

Pretty big difference I think. Here is a Maki with a Yuta she thinks is about to die vs a Maki with a Yuta who is 100% ok. And the only reason she even gets mad in Vol 0 is because she had no idea Yuta did something that risky. Maki already knew Yuta was going to body hop if all else failed, so her reaction here is disproportionate, especially since he survived.

Speaking of survival, the first thing Maki, Panda, and Inumaki do when Yuta survives in Vol 0 is ask if he’s ok and thank him for saving them. This doesn’t happen in JJK 269. They're all very protective of Yuta after the events of Vol 0. We see them defend him from Gojo for being a little mean about his training. They’re all against the plan because of how much they value him. The 3 of them not checking in on Yuta immediately after the fact is wildly OOC.

The explanation I have? This version of Maki is based on Yuji and Megumi’s memories of her. (And let’s remember that Megumi claims he can’t openly respect her and the other 2nd years outside of Yuta.) When Megumi and Nobara mourn Yuji’s “death”, Maki does this to them.

Maki also intimidated Yuji pretty bad when they first met. Her, Panda, and Inumaki went along with bullying Yuji after he came back to life. It makes sense that Yuji would up Maki’s meanness. He’s not been around her long enough to know she’s not like this when it comes to people she cares about. 

I do think it is weird Maki is pre-awakening levels of mean. This could also be Yuji trying to return to the time before everything went to absolute hell. Or...because she’s Yuji’s construct, this could be him expressing his anger at Yuta for defiling Gojo’s body in a very roundabout way. From both Yuji and Megumi’s perspective, Yuta didn’t discuss this beforehand and used it as a last second plan. And that’s kind of how the conversation goes. Everyone talks about Yuta’s Yujo plan like he didn’t clear it with them first.

It’s also telling that they harp on Yuta over Miguel and Larue. Miguel said no help unless Sukuna’s domain was down. Everyone except Yuji knew that. There was never a scenario where they’d help from the start. But to Yuji who only heard they might show up? It’s a missed opportunity.

Say if you were, trying to find a reason for such a horrific defiling of a loved one’s body. Wouldn’t you try to reconstruct the crime by considering the motives and methods? That would help give you some closure, right?

I think that’s what Yuji is doing for himself and Megumi. Yuji is trying to figure out why things went the way they did through a blend of what Sukuna intuited and what makes the most sense to someone who never had full knowledge of the plan. 

And if you think about it, this is still a happy ending for them. They’re all absolved of their guilt surrounding the outcome of the battle. Even if they screwed up, they’re all still alive and able to move forward in a better world. They did the best they could, so it’s time to move on from what happened to Gojo. Thinking about that too much would break someone.

Mei Mei and Ui Ui

Mei Mei is out of character in a way that’s unique compared to everyone else. She’s still herself, but with less…yikes. It’s odd since Yuji has seen how awful Mei Mei can be and is deeply uncomfortable with how she treats Ui Ui. He’s not missing information about her motives so why have we gone from this to this?

I propose this is an extension of Yuji’s denialism. (We’ve seen how avoidant he is with Gojo’s death.) Mei Mei is grooming Ui Ui and has made it clear this is all for money. Ui Ui is being abused, but he’s so attached to his abuser that separation would break him. How do you make a happy ending out of that?

Well, you can soften those edges. Spin a tale where Mei Mei is an over-doting sister who would kill for her cute little brother. She doesn’t touch him inappropriately, she just plays with him. She loves money as much as him! No abuse here! She’s not someone who would kill a child for cash.

And in a weird way this whole Simple Domain debacle mirrors Gojo killing the higher ups. If Maki is Yuji's rage towards the Yujo plan, then this could be him trying to process his mentor slaughtering a bunch of old people in mass for his sake.

It probably helps that Yuji wasn’t there to see Mei Mei tell Ui Ui to die for her. There’s no way he knows she was paid to help kill him either.

Mei Mei doesn’t care about the well-being of other people. She’s just a hardcore capitalist who loves money and will do anything for it. But this version of her can be less terrible to Ui Ui while still getting her cash and that’s sort of ok I guess? Yuji has moved on from this and so will I.

The Megumi & Nobara Problem

The 1st years going on like nothing happened after Sukuna has made readers feel betrayed. It flies in the face of everything that’s been established for them when it comes to mourning.

As stated in CFYOW, JJK Thorny Road at Dawn, Chapter 5: At the End of a Sidewalk, this is how the trio deals with grief.

Despite knowing Yuji for only 2 weeks his death screws with Megumi and Nobara pretty badly. In the manga, it looks like Nobara is more upset because she’s visibly in pain, but I think the light novels show they’re equally shaken. 

This is why the non-reaction to Gojo’s death makes no sense. Megumi has known Gojo for a decade. He’s 6 when he first meets him and 16 when he dies because Sukuna used his Cursed Technique (CT). Nobara knew Yuji for 2 weeks, and didn’t see him for another 3 months. In all that time, Gojo was her teacher. She knew him longer than Yuji. When she “dies” Gojo is on the same tier as Yuji and Megumi to her.

So why is it that in JJK 268, Nobara thinks of Gojo as a creep? Why did she toss his letter despite him being one of the people she thought of in death? 

Well… When Yuji came back from the dead via Gojo’s prank he heard Nobara say this.

Nobara is prone to saying out of pocket nonsense to people. If she thinks it, she says it. Yuji also doesn’t understand Nobara’s thought processes (Just like Amai Rin he admits it too!). Nobara tries to hide her feelings to appear tougher than she is sometimes. So I think Yuji has done to Nobara what he has done to Maki—upped the meanness and neglected the heart.

And though Nobara being a construct can explain her behavior, this still leaves us with Megumi who is definitely not one. Why is he acting like Gojo meant nothing to him?

Megumi in particular is super fragile when it comes to his feelings. This is how stressed he gets when he learns exactly why Tsumiki is in a coma.

She’s not even dead and he’s halfway to a mental breakdown. The idea that he can just look at her grave once after having a hand in her murder and move on this quickly makes no sense. Inadvertently killing his defacto guardian he’s been raised by for 10 years should be upsetting him to a similar degree. (Maki said Gojo treated him like a precious treasure!)

When Megumi is on the verge of death he thinks of Tsumiki, Yuji, and or Gojo. It’s always at least 1 of those 3. There’s no way Gojo dying and having his corpse reanimated for reasons Megumi might feel responsible for isn’t screwing him up.

Unless…Yuji is suppressing his memory on purpose. He can’t even cope with what happened to Gojo, how is Megumi supposed to? How can either of them forgive themselves for that if they acknowledge it in full?

When Sukuna tries to tell Megumi to give up, he looks miserable. Every time Sukuna has verbally kicked Yuji while he’s down, he’s done it with a big old smile and laugh. He doesn’t hold back and goes for the throat.

Sukuna is being very nice to Megumi here when he doesn’t mention Gojo at all. The only death he blames on Megumi is Tsumiki. Everyone else? Nothing. That’s weird given that Sukuna will pass the blame of his kills onto Yuji to torment him.

Is this Sukuna a construct or is he playing nice because he respects Megumi? Who knows. Whatever happened here seems to point to Gojo’s memory being suppressed for Megumi’s sake. 

And why might Megumi accept this suppression? Why does he seem to be going along with Yuji’s delusions? The Unlimited Void brain fog. Megumi brings attention to it after he wakes up. 

If Sukuna can’t think straight after Gojo brain damage, neither is Megumi. Still Yuji has to be careful. If Megumi thinks too much, the illusion will be broken. 

What does this mean for them?

Well, the character assassination isn’t real (probably) which is a good thing! Other than that? Not a clue. We’ve got a real catbox situation here. I can’t tell who is dead anymore.

Sukuna projects delusions when someone he’s connected with is dying. Yuji projects delusions when he’s dying. Both of them are kind towards the people they’re interacting with in this space between dreams and reality. They try to give people endings that leave them satisfied.

JJK 270 ends with the hunt for a curse user who can distort perceptions of reality. This curse user is initially mistaken as a cursed spirit. That sounds like Sukuna I think.

I’m pretty confident this happy ending illusion will be shattered, that's for sure.

My Final Answer

I'm betting it all on this being a delusion. This is a kind of prediction that will either age well, very badly, or interestingly. I don't know what's in store for the final chapter...but I do have some ideas I'd like to speculate with.

"Without love it cannot be seen."

This time I'm going to use this phrase very literally. I'm going to make one final gamble on the assumption that love is the answer. So let's go back to Love itself—one of those reoccurring themes in JJK.

Love is a curse in JJK. It has the power to distort reality and transform loved ones horribly. Desperation to save a loved one from death over and over has resulted in extremely traumatic things. Yuta turned his childhood crush into monster that caused havoc for years. You can pin blame everything that has happened in JJK on Gojo being unable to get over the loss of his loved one, Geto.

Hana could've vanquished Sukuna on the spot, but she didn't because she loves Megumi. It's something a lot of people blame her for. If she had just killed him there, the Sukuna battle wouldn't have happened. But that's not really the truth. The only reason Sukuna even got his powerful is because Megumi refused to let Yuji die.

Megumi and Yuji going back and forth trying to save each other have been acts of love driving the plot of JJK since the beginning of this manga. If Megumi actually died on Yuji? Who knows what would happen.

...

A lot of readers have been on a very funny copium because of these last 3 chapters. Some of them joke that they are just one massive Takaba-induced hallucination. This theory has some merit to it! After all, his CT does two things:

1) It distorts reality.

2) By sheer force of will it bends people's souls to his whims.

One of the biggest complaints about the past 3 chapters has been the Merger plot ending abruptly. As of JJK 270 Tengen and Sukuna's remains have been mixed into the barrier around Japan and everything is just fine according to Gakuganji.

People wanted to see what the Merger would do, just like Kenjaku. In universe, Tengen made a prediction. They guessed that the impurity from humans would dominate and consume everything. The impurity that Higuruma wants to protect. The impurity that Higuruma sees in Yuji.

Would Sukuna activate the merger and kill Megumi to spite Yuji? Absolutely.

Would Yuji do or become anything to save Megumi's life? Absolutely.

Do whatever you want with this information.

[commissionsdarian]

Right right focus on Lils everything's chill fine cool

[olymphianblood]

ok guys its not funny anymore when is d&p hard lauching im starting to getting anxious /hj

[uncle-dusknoir]

// general plotting/upcoming arc talk in the tags

[aeolids-zenith]

i hate posts that are supposed to be positivity for people who lack friends or that say that social connections are like unexpectedly inevitable/straightforward to make or something, but then like. don't elaborate on how that is possible. it always just makes me feel more hopeless

[bilal-salah0]

While children around the world enjoy the summer holidays within the safety and comfort of their homes and plan fun beach trips with their families, our kids' childhood has been reduced to securing the bare minimum of food and water, fending off swarms of disease-carrying insects, and enduring the stifling heat inside the hellish tent. Seeing them fill water containers and struggle to carry them with their tiny hands breaks my heart into a million pieces. Our babies fall asleep drenched in sweat and keep waking up crying and gasping for breath. What makes it even more unbearable are the plagues of flies and mosquitoes that keep torturing their little fragile, malnourished bodies, increasing the risk of contracting infectious diseases, with no medical care available. They also face a very real and imminent threat of dehydration due to water and formula scarcity.Their older siblings are encumbered by burdens way beyond their years. They think it is their responsibility to fill heavy water containers and protect the newborns, but the truth is they are as vulnerable to the same threats that keep growing every day. No child should live in such a hostile environment. Rubble, garbage, and the smell of death are all around.

Our kids used to have a beautiful spacious home built after years of toil and sacrifice, just to be turned into ruins in the blink of an eye. Now, they are given no other choice but to be confined to the tight airless space of a makeshift tent swarming with all sorts of insects. Even if they go outside the only things that await them are the scorching sun, the hot summer air, and foul smells all day long. The summer nights are often equally suffocating depriving them of desperately needed sleep.

Using a wood-fired self-made stove to cook is beyond torture in such heat. It is also very dangerous to the children who keep going close to it. My heart sinks each time I see pictures of them next to the fire. Even preparing a baby bottle,if ever available, is an ordeal in such conditions but my family have no other options. They have been enduring unfathomable, relentless suffering for nine months straight, and they have been more than resilient but they are now way beyond exhausted. They have been daily fighting for their very survival but there's no guarantee of safety anywhere in Gaza as not only what is left of the buildings but also the tents are being indiscriminately bombed every single day. Even going to the beach to escape the sweltering heat has become a perilous journey for my family, and countless others, since civilians keep being targeted with airstrikes there too.

My family were not allowed to have even the slightest respite since the beginning of this waking nightmare. They have been striving to survive bombing, malnutrition, disease, the cold winter, and now the deadly heatwaves.

When I left Gaza shortly before the war, my dream was to build a brighter future for my loved ones. I have never imagined, once in my life, that I would be raising funds to literally save their lives. Now, my only wish is to keep them alive and as safe as possible, given the circumstances.

Your support is their only hope and solace amidst all the pain and loss. Please do whatever you can to help me save them from this brutal literal decimation of our people. Every contribution counts! Keep our babies in your thoughts and prayers 🙏 And Please donate any amount you can spare and reblog as often as you can. It is beyond words to say how grateful I am to everyone standing with us 🙏

[bratbby333]

i will possess your heart – satoru gojo

-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k

Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.

Click

January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.

Click

January 16th, 6:38 PM

My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.

Click

January 19th, 6:11 AM

Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.

Click

January 19th, 8:27 PM

I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it. 

Click

January 23rd, 5:13 AM

Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.

Click

January 23rd, 9:53 PM

She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again. 

Click

January 28th, 7:06 PM

My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be. 

Click

February 2nd, 8:31 AM

I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.

Click

February 5th, 6:21 PM

I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.

That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her. 

With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.

He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.

It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area. 

Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit. 

In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love. 

These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?

Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to. 

He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces. 

Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine. 

Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get. 

You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.

Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away. 

On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you. 

“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.

When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you. 

There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf. 

You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.

Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.

His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month. 

“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening. 

You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.

His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well. 

Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.

Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.

Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?

But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.

Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease. 

For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.

Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text: 

-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)

He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.

-I would love that. What time, my love?

Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.

-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.

Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours. 

A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.

Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text: 

-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.

You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. 

“What is it?” your coworker asked. 

“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face. 

Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.

You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.

No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries. 

You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now. 

“January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.

When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony. 

You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head. 

“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner. 

“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest. 

“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 

Click

Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you. 

“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?” 

You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life. 

The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting? 

Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room. 

As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he  stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.

He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.

Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.” 

“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.

“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.

He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.

Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue. 

A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.” 

Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.

“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.

“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”

He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.

“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.

“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you. 

A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy. 

Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote. 

Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him. 

“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand. 

“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”

Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him. 

“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”

You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment. 

Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”

Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage. 

“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.” 

You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening. 

“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex. 

“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch. 

You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most. 

“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.

You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you. 

“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours. 

author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.

this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol

alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆｡˚

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.

[flowercrowncrip]

Today (July 19th) is Changing Places awareness day!

[Image description: a photo of the changing places toilet with the features listed below /end ID]

What is a changing places toilet?

A changing places toilet is a toilet which can be used by disabled people like me who can’t use a standard accessible toilet. This may be because someone needs extra equipment, and/or room for carers to help them. The main features of the changing places toilet are:

Lots of room! Changing places toilet must be at least 12 square metres. This means that there is plenty of room for a wheelchair user to turn around as well as room for up to 2 carers.

A peninsular toilet! This is a toilet which has enough room on each side were wheelchair to be positioned for transferring. As with standard accessible toilet there are grab rails on each side.

Accessible washbasin! The washbasin must have room underneath for a wheelchair user. An adjustable height washbasin is preferred.

A ceiling hoist! This allows people who cannot transfer independently to be able to safely get out of their wheelchair. A person brings their own sling which is hooked onto the hoist allowing them to be lifted.

An adult size changing table! This allows people need help with undressing to use the toilet, or help changing incontinence pads to have their needs met safely and with dignity. Without a changing table, many people have to resort to lying on the toilet floor to change their pads which is unsafe, undignified and unhygienic.

Why raise awareness?

The lack of changing places toilet means it’s hard for disabled people like me to leave the house. It’s limits our ability to socialise, access work/education, exercise, travel, and even attend hospital appointments. (In the UK there are only 93 hospitals with a registered changing places toilet).

I have to plan my entire life around the few changing places toilet that exist, which massively shrinks my world. It’s incredibly difficult for me to travel (less than 2% of train stations in the UK have a changing places toilet), go days out, visit the hospital, and otherwise experience the world outside my house. Hopefully one day every event like Pride or music festivals will have a mobile changing places toilet, and there will be public changing places toilet with 24/7 access in every town, as well as changing places toilets in public buildings like leisure centres, libraries, museums, cinemas, tourist attractions and shopping centres.

More info including what you can do to help the UK campaigns for more changing places toilets can be found at changing-places.org

[mellowwillowy]

Being a livestock for a vampire has never sounded good until you were kidnapped by a vampire as his spouse.

TW: Yandere, NSFW, SH, and massacre

The vampire was intrigued by the puny human he ran into when he was walking around the river in the morning, testing his new potion and spell that would keep him immune to sunlight.

What was once a plan to kidnap you as one of his livestock turned into a moment where you had to nurse him because he suddenly dropped his whole weight onto you, face blistered from the sunlight.

“You are awake now.”

Your voice stirred him awake more than ever. His once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. He didn't remember having anyone in his manor.

Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and he defensively squinted his eyes. You raised both of your hands, “You passed out right behind me and I had to drag you all the way from the riverbank to my cottage.”

The curtain was drawn close suspiciously, not allowing any light to filter inside the bedroom. Did you know he was a vampire already?

“Was it an allergic reaction?”

“Huh?” he asked, baffled.

“Your face was blistered because it was the only part of you that was exposed. Nonetheless, you healed really fast so there was no need for any extensive care from my herbs. You were only out for a day.”

He started to feel his face, aside from patches here and there, there was nothing wrong with it.

“Ah yes, let me get the hand mirror for you—”

Just before you could stand up, his hand grabbed yours and held you on the spot immediately. If you were to realize he had no reflection.

“Can you help me stand and get me to the kitchen instead? I'm quite thirsty since I haven't drunk in a day.”

You stared at his eyes and glanced at his pale hand. It took you seconds before you agreed to him and supported him by slinging his arm over your shoulder and walked toward the kitchen downstairs.

His eyes scanned through your cottage, it was mainly dominated by white, ornaments, furniture, trinkets, and even flowers.

“You must have really loved white, considering even having flowers that can't grow in this land.” Yulian glanced at the potted flowers. Lilies of the Valley, daisies, baby’s breath, and lilies.

At that, you only hummed and sat him down on one of the chairs. You placed a cup of water for him and returned to the sink to prepare him what he assumed to be breakfast, judging from how bright it was outside the window.

Mindlessly staring into the window, he accidentally hissed from the sunlight reaching his bare-handed hand, alerting you of his discomfort.

“Oh dear, what happened?”

Yulian flinched at the endearment term you spoke before he regained his composure.

“Nothing, I just accidentally bit my tongue.” he lied as he tried to cover his blistered hand. You nodded and turned your focus back to the breakfast you were preparing.

“Are you allergic to dairies?” you asked him. “No.”

“Thought you were one unlucky man, it seems like you are not immune to light or something like an albino. I'm assuming Your skin is very sensitive to light since you were so covered.”

He only mumbled a few incoherent words before you snapped him out of his trance with a clap of your hands, “So what's your name dear?”

“Alan-” instinctively, the man shut his mouth and took a few seconds of silence before answering you.

“Yulian. My name is Yulian.” “Nice to meet you,” you served him a plate of sandwiches, “I’m the local physician here, you’ll be staying here with me for rehabilitation.”

Yulian raised both of his eyebrows, “But I am not wounded terribly in any way.” “Perhaps not, but this is how I work. Could it be that you are not a local?”

Yulian shook his head.

“Where’s your house? Do you need to go back home to your family immediately? I can stay in your place for a few days to make sure there are no more anomalies.”

Yulian frowned, what a persistent human. It was almost annoying, breaching people’s boundaries just to sate their own curiosities. He could read you that much.

But he agreed to stay in your cottage nonetheless.

𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.

But you had always been attentive, drawing the curtain for him when he walked out of his bedroom. Offering to hold the umbrella for him when he wanted to walk.

What was once a plain bedroom was slowly adorned by flowers, mainly baby’s breath.

The food you made or bought was also not bad. They were decent for a human but not a vampire. Sometimes he had to mask his distaste to any food that consisted of onions.

It was not easy to sneak out of the cottage since you were sometimes awake and roamed around the cottage.

But it was a rather peaceful life. There was bustling sounds and noises from the cottage, unlike his dead and dark manor.

It was bright in your cottage but it didn't hurt him in the slightest bit. Was it because it was a ‘White House’?

𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔.

If there was something he disliked from you then it had to be your silver ring. Whenever you touched him with your hand ring, you would sometimes graze his skin with your ring.

He tried not to hiss but there were occasions when it was unbearable, just like when you were compressing him and felt his temperature.

Unlike in a few cases where he could hide his blisters, it was visible that his forehead was bleeding from the contact.

It was alarming for both of you, paranoia and fear downed him as he suspected you were testing him while shock and suspicion flashed onto your face.

There was a rift but Yulian was a great reader, he knew you did not mean anything bad and decided to lie his way out again. Alas, it's harder this time.

Another thing he didn't like about you was how you could be ignoring him for a whole day sometimes. It could be something interesting that got your whole attention or another patient coming.

Perhaps he was simply unamused by the idea of a lesser being taking away your attention from him.

𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔.

You often strolled around the riverbank and forest, collecting herbs and wildflowers, sometimes walking down toward the village to buy daily necessities.

You didn't allow him to follow you at first, making him have to secretly follow you out of boredom and partial curiosity.

But upon week later, Yulian started to show you his interest in going out with you. It took him lots of convincing that he wouldn't fall sick from this and you reluctantly agreed to it.

For the first time, he could finally walk side by side with you instead of following you from the dark. It almost felt like his still heart was beating from excitement.

Apparently, all the villagers recognized you as a talented physician. They were all friendly to you and would do anything to help you as well.

It made something within him sting. Was it envy that he wasn't treated just as nice?

𝑽𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚’𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.

Sometimes the two of you would sing under the moonlight as a pastime. Sometimes you would come to his bedroom at night and converse with him until he pretended to fall asleep.

Sometimes you would diagnose him. Sometimes you would tell him stories of your life. Sometimes you would ask him questions about his life. Sometimes you would cry in your bedroom.

He couldn't help but wonder what sorrowed your frail heart.

Sometimes he would enter your bedroom and observe your patterned breathing while you were asleep. It was almost as if the role was reversed. He was observing you out of curiosity and perhaps, adoration.

A human’s lifespan is as short as a stick. Not only couldn't they live long, but they were also vulnerable to almost everything.

Yulian brought his hand to cup your cheek, squeezing it just a bit before his fingers traced down toward your neck, feeling your jugular vein pulsating in rhythm with your heart. You were alive but he wasn't. You were loved but he wasn't. You were adored but he wasn't.

Was it envy that brought his fangs close to your neck? Was he envious of your life? Or was he simply being unreasonable? You stirred awake from your sleep, eyes adjusting to the moonlight that lit your bedroom. No one was in sight and the water you placed on your nightstand remained warm despite the chilling temperature.

Perhaps the envy in him was never directed at you.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒚.

The only reason why Yulian was still resting in your cottage was because of his self-sabotaging. You were a physician and he was a patient, unless he had a logical reason to stay in your cottage then he had to excuse himself.

It started with how Yulian started to fake food poisoning, burn himself from the sunlight, fake an anemic, and wound himself with the silver ornaments you had in the cottage.

But Yulian understood it was only a matter of time before your dense self realized that something was wrong and chased him out of your cottage.

Would you scream at him in fury, fear, or disappointment? He thought he was used to rejection already but something changed within him with the time spent living with you.

And he didn't want to betray your trust. You trusted him with your little secret. The secret that you were actually the village's 'Witch'.

Yulian sighed audibly as he walked toward your bedroom, observing it from corner to corner for any anomalies. It had always been a paranoid habit of his. He wanted to make sure nothing dangerous was inside your bedroom or, to be frank, your surroundings.

Yulian walked toward your dressing table and gazed into the mirror. There was not a single reflection of himself, a reminder that he was never supposed to let you live in the first place.

Yet your touch never failed to soothe his stoned heart, it never failed to make him melt under your touch. And your existence did not hunger him in any way unlike the others would.

He had learned to co-exist with you before he realized it, it was too late for him to undo this dependence and bond, let alone feed on you.

Yulian walked out and waited for you to come back from your visit to the local church. As much as he wanted to join you, he couldn't risk getting caught by them.

Hours passed and the sun sank, the moon lit the dark sky and yet not even a single sound of your footsteps approaching the cottage was heard. Yulian dissipated into thin air and teleported to where you were supposed to be but you were nowhere in sight.

The church was eerily silent to human ears but not to an otherworldly being like him. He could hear an ominous chant beneath him. He could smell the sickeningly sweet incense lit beneath him. And he could feel the mark he left on your neck that night beneath him.

The 'Witch' play ends tonight.

-

You woke up in someone's embrace, the night was lit by the moonlight above you yet there was an unbearable heat nearby.

"You are awake now."

His voice stirred you awake more than ever. Your once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. You didn't remember seeing him.

Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and you stared at his eyes. He smiled at you, “You passed out amidst the fire and I had to carry you all the way from the village.”

You looked behind his back and saw a huge fire consume the village, the villagers' cries were audible despite the distance. You clutched his black robe, "Wait, no! The villagers, they need me! I need to save them!"

"May I know why?" "Because I'm a Witch, the protector of this village!"

Yulian chortled at your remarks before he smirked, "And yet you let an outsider reside in your cottage for months."

All colors were drained from your face, and your heart sank down; "What do you mean?"

Yulian sat you down on one of the rocks and knelt in front of you, his gloved hand brought your hand ring, "Observe this."

He took off his glove and pressed your ring finger to his palm, the skin blistered from the contact and you instinctively pulled away, "What was that?!"

There was a tale of vampires and you wished he would deny it.

"It was troublesome for me having to avoid the mirrors in your cottage and anything that would reflect." Hand mirror.

"I never really like the dishes you made with onions but I stomach it all because I just couldn't muster the courage to see your sullen face," Onions.

"I really hate strolling when the sun is still up because I have to carry an umbrella with me all the time." Sun.

"Though I must say I don't mind being touched by you with your ring hand because it was worth the pain and trouble." Silver.

You backed away from him and just before your back could hit the grassy ground, his arm prevented you from tumbling back, "And I must say, it took me lots of time to properly mark and make you submit to a contract with me."

Contract?

Yulian cradled your confused body into his chest, the warmth you felt was not emitted from his skin but instead, the fire that devoured all the villagers who had been deceiving you.

All of the shock that weighed upon made you succumb to unconsciousness again, mainly from stress and trauma. Yulian frowned at your limp figure as he stood up and continued walking deep into the forest to his manor.

𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕-𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 '𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆' 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕.

Yulian did not like the hostility that you showed him at all. The ongoing stress and trauma drowned you in the hysteria that would also make you harm yourself. It pained him that he was one of the causes of your hysteria, a hypothetical scenario would sometimes flash across his mind. What if he had not appeared in your life? Then perhaps your heart wouldn't sorrow to this extent.

Yulian tried his best to help you adapt. The once dark and grim manor slowly turned white. The exteriors and interiors were white before you could remember how it originally looked like. Flowers were blooming in the garden to your liking and a potted white flowers near you for you to adore.

While Yulian had the patience to make you warm up to him and face the reality of your life, he did not have the heart to see you suffer for so long. And as much as he wanted to change you into a vampire just like him, he'd rather not have it done unwillingly.

But time was not so kind for your age. The longer he delayed it, the older and frailer you would be.

Alas, luck was on his side when he secluded himself in his room for a long time for the first time you came here. He didn't expect you to find his presence soothing for you.

It appeared that all his efforts had made you think that his action of kidnapping you was just an attempt to save you from the villagers who tricked you into thinking that you were a 'Witch'.

You looked for him, calmly at first then frantically when you suffered from a panic attack. He didn't mean to test you but he knew well deep inside he was hurting you.

Even for a selfish and cold-blooded creature like him, he had to steel his heart before he could see you again. Everything he was feeling after he met you was his first. You brought colors to his monochrome life. You taught him that the smell of a morning was calming. You taught him how to spend his time with pastimes.

He could not find it in his heart to leave your side. It was his first time to feel alive and he was greedy, wanting more of it.

You stood in front of his chamber, waiting for him to open his door instead of avoiding you altogether.

--

"The servants took great care of you while I was away right, dear?"

Yulian never found the charm in terms of endearment, but whenever you called him 'dear', incomprehensible emotion and feeling surged into him. He still remembered the day you first called him that, it was foreign and weird to him but he didn't find it that bad at all.

You squirmed under his touch, squeezing yourself closer and deeper into his embrace while your hands clenched on the bedsheet. That was not the only thing you were clenching though, for his fingers were knuckle deep inside you.

You tried to form a coherent answer but what came out was simply a blubbering. Tears dripped down from your cheek from the way he curled his fingers, feeling your spot until your toes were curled.

You didn't know that even vampires could feel this much stimulation from sex. You assumed they just reproduced while feeling only half of the pleasure humans could have because of how cold-blooded they were.

You thought they only did it out of curiosity or memories of their past lives, or perhaps from the mood itself instead of doing it for pleasure as well.

Yulian brought his lip to yours, nibbling your lower lip why urging you to open your mouth, allowing his tongue to roam inside you while his fingers did not stop even one bit, drawing multiple orgasms out of you.

You really loved every bit of the man who once tried to kill you. The way his soft fangs felt your skin, pricking it playfully instead of sinking it deep inside your jugular vein and killing you on the spot.

You loved it when he caressed your cheek, you loved how gentle he was when he wiped the tears from your eyelashes.

You loved it when he was inside of you, you loved it when he knew every inch of your body so well to the point he could make you cry out of pleasure effortlessly.

You loved to see his cute face from how fast he came inside you but he never stopped his hip. You loved it when he kissed your face. You loved it when he intertwined both of your hands.

You loved it when he made your insides feel warm and full.

You loved him for severing the illusion of the 'Witch' inside of you. It was undeniable that Yuliad had saved you from the villagers' torturing you for accepting an outsider into your cottage for the first time.

You were simply curious of his condition and yet you were punished terribly for not keeping the said tradition. Yulian knew there was never a tradition, it simply was a doctrine for you who was a prodigy of a physician to save everyone from your village.

You were exiled deep in the forest so that you couldn't learn the life beyond the forest and village.

Yulian knew just as much when he first joined you on your stroll to the village. Everyone treated you differently as though you were a deity and you considered it to be something normal.

It looked normal to him considering they believed in the 'Witch' but Yulian knew better. You were just a human and all of these were just a doctrine from the church. To ensure the prodigy never left the village and was forever loyal to the church.

Spies were sent and he knew the church had probably noticed him as not only a weird outsider but also a vampire. It was unfortunate of you to be dragged into the church's underground and interrogated, forced to drag him to the church and had him staked to death. But you were persistent, you didn't trust them.

Just before Yulian was about to save you, you made a grave mistake of swearing on your name to make a promise with the devil to save you and your companion which was him. He knew you had always been so kind but wasn't that sort of naivety a little bit too much for a stranger like him? Perhaps this was the reason why the church wanted to force a much stronger doctrine onto you.

Their mistake was to not sense the danger that was him earlier. Your flaw was that you were too kind-hearted.

It gave him more reasons to seclude you from the world beyond the White House. His paranoia and obsession growing stronger with each day never seemed to unnerve you who were just a bright soul with a kind heart. A kind heart that was a contrast to his stoned heart.

That alone justified his paranoia of losing you. Surely you understood him right?

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this half-hearted work, I was so motivated to write a damn vampire fic but got writer's block mid-way smh. Happy 7th Anniversary to LIfE Project and 5k to this blog!

[starmocha]

but if it's forever, it's even better Sylus/Reader | 4610 words | AO3 “Did you just…say you were…ovulating?” A/N: I finally have a new proper desk again. And I decided to christen it by writing Sylus smut. MDNI.

Sylus had always made it explicitly known that his home was yours to do as you pleased. He had never once forbidden you from treading into any of the rooms, never once told you that you were not allowed to touch his belongings or use his staff as needed. In fact, he had actively encouraged you to make yourself at home, to treat his place as yours—a home away from home.

Yes, he had made this offer explicitly clear.

It still, however, did not prepare him for just how comfortable you had made yourself in his spare room.

Having awoken not too long ago, Sylus had originally planned to check in on his houseguest. A seemingly innocuous decision that somehow led to him standing outside the guest room, his hand gripping tightly the doorknob as he unwittingly listened to the faint buzzing noises inside the room, mixed with the wanton moans you were making.

“This…girl…” Sylus’ breath quickened, his hold on the doorknob unconsciously tightened, as his mind reeled with images of you shamelessly pleasuring yourself in one of his many beds. He knew he should leave you to…finish, but at the same time, the noises he was hearing was so enticing and sweet, like a siren’s song keeping him trapped in place.

He could hear the vibration adjusting to a different frequency, changing from quick, short bursts to an aggressive pulsation that made you moaned louder, voice reaching a new pitch. Sylus took a glance around the hallways, wondering to himself if you even realized that the walls here were in no way sound-proofed. However, if this was going to become a regular occurrence for your future visits, then perhaps, he should add that change to his home in the near future, Sylus thought wryly.

“Ah—what? No…fuck!”

The buzzing stopped abruptly and Sylus heard your immediate frustrated curse from behind the closed door. He smirked, realizing what might have happened.

He should leave.

However, he would rather mess with you instead—in more ways than one.

He gave three swift knocks, startling you immediately. “Battery died, sweetie?”

He laughed when he heard your mortified shriek.

“You heard?!”

“It’s my house,” he reminded you as if that was enough. “Let me in.”

“No!”

“Sweetie, I do have the keys to all of the rooms in this house,” he said calmly, smirking again when he heard your panicked shuffling inside the room, “I’ll come in one way or another—”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

Sylus crossed his arms, shaking his head in amusement as he heard more panicked noises behind the door. Even he couldn’t imagine what state of mortification you were in. He blinked when he heard you let loose a string of curses as it sounded like items were being thrown haphazardly around. Just as he was about to speak again, the door swung opened and he stared down at you, wrapped carelessly in the bed comforter, face completely scarlet, and your breathing rapid and uneven—possibly as a result from your little private time, but more than likely it was a result of being caught by, of all people, the leader of Onychinus.

“Now I know I offered my home for you to use freely, but—”

“Oh, just get in here!” you quickly yanked Sylus by the arm into the bedroom, promptly shutting the door before anyone else could catch sight of the scene. You immediately locked the door again, turned around, and slid down the door in a state of absolute humiliation. You could barely bring yourself to look at Sylus in the eyes.

“I…I can explain…”

“Go ahead,” Sylus said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed as he stared at your pitiful state. “I’d love to know why Miss Hunter decided to play with herself in my home—and not invite me to join in the fun.”

You glared at him.

“Sweetie, it’s very impolite to glare at the host who so graciously offered you his home while yours is being fumigated for…what was it? Cockroaches?”

“Silverfish…”

“Right,” he said, “Now, sweetie, care to explain yourself?”

“Um,” you started, but honestly, you didn’t even know how to explain yourself to him exactly without making the situation worse. You wrapped the comforter tighter around yourself. “You know this comforter is very soft, Sylus. Maybe I should buy one just like this—”

“I can take you shopping for whatever you may need or want,” he interrupted, seeing through your flimsy attempt to deflect from this awkward conversation, “But only if you explain to me why you were fucking yourself silly with a sex toy just a moment ago.”

“I was…” you racked your brain. “That is to say I am…”

“Go on.”

“Well…I am…” you covered yourself completely in the comforter and the final word you said was completely muffled by your sudden blanket-cocoon.

Sylus sighed, mildly exasperated, and stood up, crossing the room quickly in just a few strides. He bent down to your height on the floor and reached forward to pull the comforter back. He frowned when you avoided eye contact with him. “What was that last word?”

“Sylus…”

“The longer you stall, the worse you’re making for yourself,” he said.

“Ovulating.”

There was an immediate deafening silence in the room as Sylus stared at you, completely unprepared and blindsided by that one word. You stared right back, cheeks burning up even more as you realized what you had just told him.

When Sylus managed to find his voice again, he started hesitantly, “Did you just…say you were…ovulating?”

You nodded.

“And that meant you…”

“I was horny.”

Sylus found his brain shutting down again by your bold confession. He cleared his throat, trying to recompose himself. “And you happened to have brought along your…toy?”

“Well…”

“And you forgot to charge it?”

You flustered and glared at him, hearing that insufferable trademark teasing tone in his voice again. “I thought I did!”

“Well, you thought wrong,” he quipped, amused, “There is one thing about this whole situation that is a bit upsetting for me.”

“Upsetting for you?!”

He nodded, unabashed. “If this kitten was feeling a little frisky, she does know I am just a few doors away, right?”

“Oh, we are not having this conversation!”

Before you could even get up, Sylus pulled you into his embrace, and he stumbled back on the floor with you in his lap. He steadied his balance with one hand behind him while his other arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. He laughed lowly, “You’re right, this comforter does feel soft.”

“What do you think you are doing?!”

He cocked his head to the side in amusement when you glared at him again. “Now, sweetie, I just had to listen to you play with yourself for god knows how long—you don’t think that did something to me?”

“I…I just told you I was ovulating…”

“Mmhmm, you did,” he agreed affably.

“Sylus…” You gasped as he lowered the comforter, revealing your nude body underneath. He smiled appreciatively at the sight while you struggled to speak under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m not on birth control…I could…I could get pregnant…”

“I know,” he said, unconcerned. Before you could respond, he smiled at you roguishly with a slight knowing tilt of his head. “Would that be a bad thing, sweetie?”

“Wh—what?”

“You pregnant with my baby,” he murmured, his hand skimming over your flat belly.

“A baby? You’re joking…”

“Oh?” Sylus looked up, smirking, “Did it sound like I was joking?”

“Sylus, quit teasing me…”

You yelped in surprise when suddenly he shifted you so you were straddling him. Sylus tightened his hold around you, the comforter falling completely off of your body as you found yourself trapped in his embrace. You shivered, unsure if it was because of the sudden cool air caressing your nude body, or more than likely, it was because of the man before you keeping you in his lap. Sylus’ face moved closer to yours, and you attempted to avert his gaze again, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. You felt your stomach dropped when he spoke, his voice held none of his usual teasing.

“Sweetie, I am serious,” he murmured, loosening his grip from your chin, but you found yourself now unable to tear your eyes away from him as he spoke, “I wouldn’t mind seeing this belly of yours all round and swollen with my baby.”

He leaned in and pecked your lips, smirking briefly when you widened your eyes in surprise. He continued, “I wouldn’t mind if people knew it was me who knocked you up—in fact, I’d like that very much.”

“Sylus…”

“I wouldn’t mind if…we have a family together.”

Sylus gauged your reaction, seemingly mindful of his words for fear of scaring you away, but in his eyes, there was a strong resolve. When you didn’t outright object or react negatively to his words, Sylus smiled.

“Mm…” he pressed his forehead to yours, his warm breath brushed against your lips, “We would make such a beautiful baby together…”

Your cheeks tinged pink, but you found yourself at a loss for words, unable to rebuke him. The way he was speaking was making you tingle, feeling a tiny shred of embarrassment, but surprisingly more than that, there was a sense of enthrallment by his words.

“Half you, half me,” he continued, his eyes had brightened when he had said ‘you’. Sylus reached for your hand, guiding it to his lips. He tilted his head to the side again, smiling, “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

You nodded numbly, almost instinctively, as if his deep, smooth voice was hypnotizing you. He continued to speak, but you were barely hearing him now, lost in your own thoughts as you watched this man before you wearing an expression of almost pure joy. You weren’t sure if you had ever seen Sylus as happy as he was now talking about having a baby with you.

The more he spoke, though, the more the thought became enticing to you. Sylus loved you unconditionally and wholeheartedly. All you had to do was ask and he would move Heaven and Earth for you. The depths of his love for you would extend and magnify a thousandfold for the child you two would have together.

Dependable, protective, loving—could you ask for anything more in a partner?

You watched him, seeing his large hand covered your entire tummy, and you could see the almost wistful look in his crimson eyes. Your head tilted a little in wonder, remembering that Sylus had never once brought up the subject of family—his own growing up or even the prospective future. This was the closest the two of you had ever treaded on the topic, and the fact that he was the one who had suggested it first made you realized that he had pondered about the matter before, enough so that he had decided that his future was you and the family you would have together.

You swallowed slowly, feeling a swarm of butterflies fluttered in your belly. You were nervous, a little scared, but more than anything, you had never felt surer of what you were about to say than now.

Your future was with him. That was all you knew, and all you wanted.

“Sylus…”

“What is it, sweetie?”

“I…” you swallowed hard, face flushed with arousal as you locked eyes with the man in front of you, “I…need you…to fuck a baby into me.”

Sylus’ breath hitched the moment those words left your mouth. He steadied his breathing the best he could, but he could feel his heart racing at the thought, at the plea in your soft voice. “Is that what you want?” His words were barely above a whisper, as he could feel himself hardening at the thought of impregnating you with his baby. He continued, the rasp in his deep voice noticeable, “You want me to knock you up, sweetie?”

Just from the sound of his voice alone had you clenching, and you nodded. You had already decided on this, already spoken the words out loud. There was no going back now. You wanted this.

“Use your words,” he commanded, “I want you to say it.”

I need you to say it, his eyes seemed to implore you.

His hands were already around your waist, pulling you up flushed against his body. Your hands rested on his toned chest and you gazed up into those scarlet eyes darkening with desire, the mere sight stealing your breath away as your body trembled with anticipation of what was going to happen tonight the moment you reaffirm your earlier plea.

“I want…”

You could feel Sylus’ fingers digging into your hips, there was an air of impatience around him as he waited for you finish your sentence. You could almost hear the sharp hiss of breath from his barely parted lips as he gazed at you intently.

“…your baby,” you finished, “I want to…have your baby.”

The moment that last word left your lips, you gasped sharply as Sylus immediately lifted you into his strong arms, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist for support as he carried you to the bed. Within seconds, he had you pinned down on the bed, his larger body hovered over you. “That’s a dangerous thing to tell me, sweetheart,” he murmured, his finger tipped your chin up, exposing your neck to him, “Because now I have no intention of letting you leave this bed until you’re knocked up with my baby.”

You bit down on your lips, holding back another gasp as you felt his large hands trailed down your body, feeling familiar curves with practiced ease. “Ah—!” You squirmed when his lips trailed down your chest to your belly, his hands caressing the flat abdomen with revere.

“Your body is already so gorgeous,” he murmured, kissing your belly again, unaware of your reddened cheeks, “And it’ll become even more beautiful when our baby grows inside you…”

You felt your heart skipped a beat. The way he was speaking as if you were already pregnant made you blushed in embarrassment. You squirmed again, but Sylus immediately gripped your hips, keeping you in place.

“What…” you racked your brain for words, feeling suddenly insecure by his keen attention to your body. When Sylus looked up at you questioningly, you couldn’t help but frowned a little, “You’re just saying that…men don’t really find pregnant women attractive…”

He laughed at your words, making you even more embarrassed. He shook his head in disagreement. “Sweetie, how can a man not find the woman carrying his baby the most beautiful being in the world?”

Sylus loomed over you, his lips hovering above yours as his eyes gazed down at you with deep affections. His hand caressed your cheek in comfort as he spoke, “Sweetie, I can barely restrain myself from touching you now.”

“Hmm?” You looked at him quizzically, making him smiled wider.

“I won’t be able to control myself,” he continued, brushing his lips against yours, “Mm, I’m gonna want to feel you all the time—feel our baby in your womb.”

“Sylus…you’re making me embarrassed now…”

“I’m just stating facts,” he responded, brushing your flyaway hair out of your face, “So trust me, sweetie, I mean it when I say you are the most beautiful woman in my life.”

As if to prove his point, he covered you in endless kisses, responding to your pleased gasps and sighs with his own knowing hums. “We’re going to make such a beautiful baby,” he murmured. “I can’t wait…”

“Sy—”

“Can’t wait to see you grow, to see you swell…” he continued to mumble lazily into your skin, his lips leaving trails of kisses all over. “My beautiful hunter…my beautiful…goddess…”

From his tantalizing words to his expert ministrations, you could feel yourself throbbing, aching to be filled by him. You tugged at his shirt, and he laughed at your impatience before he undressed himself, taking off piece by piece as slow as possible to further tease you, the amusement on his face a complete opposite to your frustration. When the last article of clothing—his boxer briefs—was removed, he allowed you a moment to rake your eyes over his toned body. Sylus ran his hand over his hair, pushing it back as he looked at you with a look of pure lust.

“God,” he muttered, “This is happening…”

He nudged your thighs apart, pleased that you were already so wet, willing, and ready for him. He grasped his hardened member, giving it a few strokes as he prepared to line himself up to your waiting entrance.

“Already this wet, sweetie?” he questioned, his tone light and teasing, “From your little solo playtime, or perhaps, me?”

He didn’t even leave you enough time to respond. You gasped and arched forward, feeling just the tip pressing in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bracing yourself for the massive intrusion.

“Answer me, sweetie,” he murmured, letting more of himself in.

“Y—you!”

He hummed in satisfaction.

You gasped as more of him entered, the feeling of how massive he was bringing tears of both pain and pleasure to your eyes. “Oh—oh, god!” you whimpered when he bottomed out, filling you completely.

“My sweet little cock-warmer,” he murmured, planting more sweet kisses down your neck.

“S-Sylus…please…”

“Please what, sweetie?” he asked, though you both knew he was well aware of what you desired in that moment. When you didn’t respond, he nipped your left earlobe, his sinfully deep voice sending shivers down your spine and straight to your core as he whispered, “Say it, and I’ll give you everything you desire, sweetie.”

You panted softly, almost convinced that with just a few right words, his devilish voice alone could make you cum, but right now, in this particular moment, with his cock situated so perfectly inside you, you needed more.

“Please…”

He raised a brow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as his crimson eyes gleamed in satisfaction at seeing you already so helpless and needy. You could feel his large hands gripping your hips tighter, fingers digging into your flesh, almost as if he was waiting for you to break the final restraint he held.

“…Fuck me,” you uttered at last, voice soft and vulnerable, “Please, Sylus, fuck me…”

You gasped suddenly as he pulled out slowly and then slammed back in, that first thrust already making you see stars and ripping out a cry of pure pleasure from your throat.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, already knowing the answer as he set a steady pace, “Is this what you need, sweetie?”

“Yes!” you yelled out, arms encircled around his neck tighter as you let him take control.

“Doing so well,” Sylus crooned, his thrusts steadily becoming harder, faster, “What a good—hnngh—fucking—hah—girl you are…taking me—ah—so well…”

You were barely aware of your back touching the mattress again as he lowered you back down, taking you in deeper. Your arms loosened around his neck, fingers finding their way to grip the bedsheets. You tossed your head to the side, moaning when his mouth took in your nipple, suckling on it gently at first before his skilled tongue swirled over the sensitive nub, the sensation was enough to have you arching up into him again. He pulled away, making you whined in frustration at the sudden loss of attention, but just as quickly his hand took over to massage your breast, keeping you moaning helplessly for him as he teased and pinched your nipple, feeling it firming under his expert touch.

“Your breasts will fill up with milk for our baby,” he murmured, already picturing you nursing his baby. He smiled at the thought, unable to contain his excitement. He squeezed your breast harder and you cried from the feeling of his calloused hand on your soft flesh.

Amidst the pleasurable stimulations of him massaging your breast as he drove himself into you, you had a thought—a need, really. “I…” you felt your cheeks warming up again, embarrassed or otherwise, you weren’t sure anymore, but you still voiced your newfound desire aloud, “Sylus…I want…”

“Hmm?” He tilted his head a little, his gentle smile remaining as he waited for you to finish your thought. With his thick member so deep inside you, you could barely think straight, your focus shifting back and forth between the feel of him and his arousing words that spawned your new thought.

“I want you…to have the…first taste.”

His smile faltered. “What?” Sylus paused, but there was an intense look of intrigue in his eyes, never once expecting such words to leave your lips, but the bold suggestion had him excited by the prospect. He watched you intensely, waiting for you to repeat the sweet offer and confirming that he had not misheard you.

“My milk,” you clarified, face flushed red, “I’d want…you to taste it first…”

“You want me to…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence as he laughed, delighted by this surprising offer. The look he gave you was a mix of arousal and absolute adoration. “Oh, sweetie,” his voice was breathless as he pulled you in for another intense kiss, “You are going to be my fucking demise.”

You whined against his lips, your voice swallowed by him eagerly. The overwhelming stimulations of his relentless kisses and renewed strength had you fumbling with your thoughts and words as the only thing you could focus on was just the feel of him touching you—inside you.

“Oh god, oh god!” you whimpered when he started moving faster, driving into you harder, deeper. “Ah—Sy-Sylus!” You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the beginning of the familiar tightening that signified your impending release.

Lost in your focus on the feeling of your approaching climax, you didn’t even notice that Sylus’ movements had become more hurried, graceless, and eager. His eyes greedily drank in the sight of you beneath him losing yourself to this state of euphoria. His mouth parted, panting, as he gripped your hips harder, enough that there would be bruise marks by morning. He could barely hold back a groan as he felt your walls tightening around him.

This is it.

You were so fertile right now, the perfect moment for him to fill your womb full of his virile seed. Watching you unraveled before him, Sylus’ eyes darkened with pure lust, a haze washing over him as he was consumed with only one thought and goal.

She’s perfect.

So perfect.

Gonna fill her up.

Knock her up.

Mine, she’s all mine.

Fill that pretty little cunt.

Pump her full.

Breed her.

You screamed in pleasure as without a word, Sylus pumped you full of his seed, emptying into you so much that there was no way you wouldn’t get pregnant from this encounter.

“Sylus!” Your legs wrapped around his waist tighter, pulling him in deeper, needing him to fill you completely. Your walls tightened around him, squeezing and milking all of him for your womb. You were going to get pregnant. You were going to have his baby.

Sylus’ baby.

You whined and sobbed into his shoulder as you felt both his release dripping down your thighs and the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through your spent body. His arms wrapped securely around your waist, keeping you held against him, close enough that you felt all of his body heat and the warm sweat that glistened on his skin.

“Good…girl,” he gasped, rubbing your back up and down as you came down from your high, “Such a good girl for me. Only me.”

Sylus lowered you back down on the plush mattress, your half-lidded eyes gazed up at him, meeting his pleased smile. You lay on the bed boneless, drained, and satisfied, feeling his heavy body still hovering over you as you listened to his deep voice murmuring, unsure whether he was speaking to you anymore or to himself.

“…Mine. Mine to have.”

Mine to breed.

He stared down at you, almost in a state of awe, the realization of what had happened made his heart speed up. His eyes focused on your belly, already imagining that it was going to grow bigger, rounder, in the coming months with his child in your fertile womb. There was no way you wouldn’t get pregnant from this session, but even if you didn’t, Sylus had already planned on fucking you until you showed the first sign of pregnancy. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he could even restrain himself from taking you even when you were round and full with his child.

“Oh, sweetie…”

You looked up at him doe-eyed, making his heart softened further. For all of his talks about his lack of luck, he knew he had hit the jackpot with you. The greatest fortune of his life was meeting you, and he was willing to risk all of the good luck in his lifetime to keep you in his life by his side.

Sylus’ cheek brushed against your head before he leaned inward and pressed his lips there. His hands continued to rub you up and down while you both recovered from your shared climaxes. “Shh, I got you, I got you, sweetie…”

When he pulled out of you, Sylus laid down on his back on the bed, dragging you to lay on top of him. He continued to hold you close to him, clearly having no intention of letting you out of his embrace any time soon. Just as well, because all you wanted in that moment was to remain close to him—skin to skin and heartbeats in-sync.

“Sylus…”

He hummed softly, his hands still rubbing your back gently. You could feel your heart calming down, your breathing returning to normal. You rested your head on his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall as his own breathing evened out.

The world suddenly felt so still and quiet, as if you and him were the only occupants remaining. You raised your head from its place on his chest, eyes widened when you made out his loving smile. You sighed happily when he caressed your cheek and his thumb brushed over your lips.

Your heart fluttered as he spoke, his normally deep voice a light, soft murmur:

“My pretty hunter.”

“You’re so full of it…”

He laughed and shook his head, amused by your weak attempt to counter him. His eyes wandered down, lingering on your flat stomach once more. He looked pleased.

“Your body is going to change so much,” he husked and your heart skipped a beat once more, “It’ll be all my fault that you’re nice and swollen with my baby.”

“Sy-Sylus!”

He chuckled again and pulled you deeper into his embrace. Your cheek pressed against his chest again, his large hand resting gently, but firmly, on the back of your head keeping you in place. Your stomach did flips when he spoke again:

“Rest for now, sweetie, the night is just beginning.”

“What?”

He laughed. “Oh, sweetie, we are just getting started,” he said, eyes twinkling in amusement when he caught sight of the pretty blush rising on your cheeks, “I meant what I said earlier: you are not leaving this bed until you are pregnant with my baby.”

You started to protest, but he captured your lips with his, parting just long enough to whisper: “I’m going to enjoy you all night long, sweetheart.”

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: After you reveal the truth of what your relationship really was between you and Miguel, everyone's keen on learning more. So what better way to give a little more insight than a dinner at your shared home?

Warnings: None~ Just back again with silly shenanigans and the softest of fluff :3

A/N: Hello, everyone! After the first part of 'What's In Between' blew up (you can read it here, thank you so much by the way, you're all so sweet), many people have asked for a part two, so here it is! Enjoy <3

The moment you break the news to them, the volume of the table booms to a fever pitch as everyone begins talking at the same time.

“W-WHAT?!”

“Married? No way,” Hobie says.

“How long have you been together?” Pavitr asks.

“I can’t say I saw this coming…” Miles says, eyes widening in surprise.

Miguel had been watching you the moment you snuck up on the group, but with the newfound panic from everyone he couldn’t help but make his way over to the commotion.

“You’re all being loud, what are you yelling about now?” Miguel asks, walking over and standing by your side.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL US YOU WERE MARRIED?!” Gwen shouts.

“You never asked,” he blinks, “and also, it’s none of your business.”

“Miguel, as your best friend I am deeply offended that you haven’t told me after this long, does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Peter says, hand on his chest in pretend hurt.

“You are not my best friend,” Miguel deadpans.

“After I opened up to you no less, I mean, you were the first person I told about Mayday! All the details-” he continues, ignoring the comment.

“Not by choice,” he mutters.

“Does no one know about this?? At all???” Pavitr asks, “I mean, you two are married.”

“I mean, Jess knows about it,” you gesture, and she only grins.

“And now all of you do too,” Miguel sighs. “Vida mía, I thought we talked about this,” he admonishes.

“Oh, c’mon, it was cute how they were all trying to figure it out for so long. I was starting to feel bad,” you say, smoothing your hair back. He only stares at you for a moment before sighing.

“Fine,” he relents, “Can’t do anything about it now anyway.” He smiles softly at you, and the group watches in awe as their cold leader softens in your presence, but his gaze quickly grows dark as he turns back to the group.

“One word of this to anyone outside of this group,” he says with a pointed finger before trailing off, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks as to what he might do.

Everyone’s faces pale like a sheet at the unnamed threat (well, except for Hobie, he only watches with blatant amusement on his face), but you only laugh.

“Miguel, don’t threaten the kids,” you giggle. “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,” you whisper to them with a wink.

“Hey, that’s what I say!” Peter says.

“You are his best friend after all,” you grin.

“I have never said those words a day in my life,” he scoffs, but you ignore him, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Oh! I have a lovely idea, how about you all swing by our place for dinner later? We never have guests,” you suggest.

Gwen gasps, “Really?”

“This…maybe doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Miles says as he shrinks down in his seat at Miguel’s glare towards you.

“I have plans tonight…though I don’t think they’d mind if I cancel,” Hobie says nonchalantly, but everyone knew there was no way in hell he’d miss something like this.

“What am I, cat litter?” Jess asks. She was the only person to have been at your shared home, having joined around the same time as you, and being one of the few people Miguel fully trusts.

“You know it's not like that, Jess,” you turn to her with a grin.

“Absolutely not, it's already a liability that they know querida, now you want them traipsing into our home?” Miguel argues, and you narrow your eyes at him, never one to back down from a fight. While it got on his nerves, it's what he loved about you too. He needed someone that wouldn’t take his shit.

“Miguel,” you say, giving him a look. “All our enemies are literally in alternate universes who, aside from those small tears, have no way to go cross-dimensional, let alone find us in the expanse of a universe. Besides, I think it would be nice,” you say, and Mayday seems to agree since she climbs right up into your arms, babbling happily.

“And don’t think I don’t know you have a soft spot for this lil ragtag team,” you smile, bouncing up and down as Mayday laughs.

He huffs, “I am anything but soft, especially for them. They never listen, don’t follow protocol, are immature, and the list goes on.”

“He’s lying,” you whisper, covering your mouth from his direction as though that would stop him from happening. Mayday grabs your hand though, playing with your fingers happily. “See how his ears are turning red?”

At that, his ears turn more red and the group tries to stifle their snickers to no avail.

“Querida,” he warns. “Do you feel the need to share anything else about me? Or have you had enough,” he asks, poking your shoulder. You place a hand on his bicep with a gentle smile, and his expression softens much to his dismay.

“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you grin. “Alright, it’s settled then! You’re all coming over tonight.”

~

You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the food for dinnertime when everyone would be coming over.

Then, you feel the hair rise on the back of your neck as a familiar presence makes himself known, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head rests on top of yours.

“Vida mía, the food smells good,” he says softly before sighing. “But I’m not very happy with you today.”

You let out a sigh of your own as you turn off the stove before turning around in his arms to face him.

“Miguel, my love,” you say, smoothing out the collar of the pullover he wore before looking up at him. “I know you well, don’t I?”

“More than anyone,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest amount as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Then it’s safe to assume that you’ve been wanting to hang out with more people in the Society apart from work-related things?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest.

“I can’t afford anything like that in this line of work, you know that querida,” he sighs, that familiar hardened look in his eyes for a moment.

“Miguel, your only friends can’t be me, Lyla and Jess,” you pout.

“Vida mía, you are my wife,” he says.

“Yes, and it's miracle enough that I was able to grow close enough to you to get to that point,” you chuckle, “so my existence in your life is proof itself that you are capable of growing close to people. I’ve seen you, I think you’re ready and deep down I know you don’t always want to be perceived as the cold and unfeeling leader of the Society. Why not start with them?”

“That’s not a decision for you to make,” he says, glancing away from you.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling a bit guilty that you threw Miguel into this without warning. “I should have spoken to you about it first but who knows. Maybe this is a good thing, opening your heart a little more,” you explain. “Don’t think I realize you’re the hardest on them because you believe in them,” you smile.

He huffs before pausing to think for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder when you snuck your little way into my head, querida.”

“Admit it, you’re growing soft,” you giggle softly.

“Never,” he counters, tickling your side which makes you scrunch up your face as you laugh breathlessly.

“OKAY! Okay, you’re one soft fluffy teddy bear, happy?” you say which only makes him continue with even more fervour.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, querida,” he snorts but finally relents.

“Yeah….I can’t even say that with a serious face,” you chuckle. “But you do have your moments, tough guy,” you smile, leaning up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. That’s when the doorbell rings, and immediately your eyes light up.

“Oh! They’re here!!” you say excitedly, escaping from his grasp as you move to open up the door.

“Here we go,” he murmurs to himself, and you turn to face him.

“What was that?” you ask.

“Nothing, vida mía,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes in disbelief.

“Behave, Miguel,” you tell him.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he replies, and you grin before opening up the front door.

There, you find Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter (alongside Mayday of course), Hobie and Jess all standing outside, chatting amongst themselves before turning to you.

Miles almost looks like he’s in disbelief like he couldn’t really believe this was your home quite yet.

“Hi!” Gwen starts.

“Took you lot long enough,” Hobie says. “Was starting to think we'd have to build a fire and cook it ourselves.” Gwen punches his shoulder, to which he lets out a little “Ow!”

“Sorry about him,” Gwen apologizes.

You just find yourself laughing at it all though.

“No apologies needed, we were a little preoccupied. Come on in, make yourself at home,” you say, opening the door a little wider for them to make their way through.

“Not too at home though,” you hear Miguel say, leaning into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ignore him,” you say, giving him a pointed look to which he just stares at you blankly. “Dinner will be ready soon, I just have to set the table and we can eat, alright?”

“It smells delicious,” Pavitr says, “I’m starving.”

Mayday seems to agree as she crawls up from the baby carrier onto Peter’s head, making grabby hands from the top.

“Someone’s hungry,” Peter chuckles. “Got anything she can eat?”

“I have a few things, don’t worry,” you smile.

“It really does smell really good though, but it always does,” Jess adds.

“It’s nothing special,” you say sheepishly. “Just some of Miguel’s favourites.”

You guide them all into the living room. “Settle in! I’ll be done in a snap,” you say.

As you make your way back to the kitchen (with Jess joining you to help out), back in the living room the squad of spiders settle in almost hesitantly, a watchful eye monitoring all of their reactions.

No one dares say anything, only sitting around nervously.

“So…nice weather we’re having,” Peter says, trying to lighten the mood but even Mayday gives him a deadpanned expression.

Miguel sighs. “You’re all acting like there’s a ticking time bomb waiting for you to speak before setting off,” he says, still leaning up against the doorway.

“We don’t know, mate. Is there?” Hobie jokes, but Miles’ face drops anyway.

“There isn’t, for the record. I can be harsh but I’m not evil,” Miguel scoffs before making eye contact with Pavitr who looks like he wanted to ask something but was holding back.

“One question,” he says simply with a nod.

“How long have you two been together?”

“…a little over 4 years now,” he replies.

“How did you meet?” Gwen asks.

“I said one question,” he says before your voice cuts in.

“My universe was one of the first he visited! He hated me back then, though,” you laugh as you walk back in. “Speaking of which!! I have some things you might all want to see after dinner,” you grin mischievously.

“I thought you said I was the one that had to behave, mi corazón,” Miguel says, a warning tone in his voice.

“And I am, aren’t I?” you say, poking his side playfully. “Anyway, dinner’s ready,” you say, leading them to the dining room. “I know it's not much but-”

“How in the hell is this not much??” Hobie exclaims, and you just shrug. “You should see dinner with my family, then you will think that it’s not much,” you say with a chuckle.

On the table sat a wide expanse of food, all of Miguel’s favourites from Mexico. Empanadas as the appetizer, alongside pozole, ceviche, enchiladas, and chicken with mole poblano all served with a side of rice, beans, or homemade corn tortillas depending on each person’s preference.

You can see Miguel’s eyes visibly brighten as he looks at the food, settling in at the head of the table with you by his side.

“Come eat!” As you say that, everyone sits down before beginning to eat, everyone heading straight to what appealed to them the most.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Miles says, eyes closed in bliss.

“Oye, don’t let your Mother hear that, kid,” Miguel says, but the corner of his lip was upturned in the tiniest of smiles. The most he would allow himself around this many people.

“Thank you, Miles,” you smile.

“This, uhh, how do you say it again? Poh-zuhl?” Gwen asks, and you laugh out loud as she turns pink, meanwhile both Miguel and Miles cringe slightly.

“I’m sorry for laughing, sweetheart. You’re almost there; it’s pronounced like ‘poh-zoh-lay’,” you say kindly.

“Ohh, okay gotcha. Pozole. It’s really good! Feels…comforting, almost,” she says.

“Yes,” you say, glancing at your husband with a soft smile, “it’s Miguel’s favourite. Says it ‘tastes like home’.” A chorus of ‘awws’ go around the table, while Miguel only holds the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“Alright, alright. Enough with the cheesy stuff, let’s get back to eating, yeah?” Hobie says before shoving his fork back into his mouth.

~

Once dinner was finished (and after both Miles and Gwen insisted that they did the dishes despite much argument from you), everyone was settled again in the living room laughing and talking together, and while Miguel only said a few things here and there and sat by your side like a lost puppy, he did seem to be enjoying himself.

“Alright! Now, before everyone goes back home, I have one more thing I’d like to show you,” you say once it quiets down a bit. Standing up, you make your way over to a large bookshelf you and Miguel had built together when you first moved in together.

“I’ve gotten tired of having only myself to show these photos to, so this is the perfect opportunity,” you smile.

“Querida-” Miguel says, holding out a hand to block your way but you look at him with pleading eyes, and he can’t do anything but relent. He couldn’t say no when you looked at him like that.

With a triumphant ‘haha!’ you grab a photo album labelled with a date and a single word; ‘Ours’.

Everyone crowds around as you place it down on the coffee table, and you open it up to the first page.

Gwen is the one that gasps first, eyes wide with awe.

“You both look so beautiful,” she says softly.

There, front and centre was a photo of you and Miguel on your wedding day. You were smiling wide at the camera, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand while Miguel only looked at you with an expression so in awe it was as though you painted the stars in the sky.

“You clean up nicely, big man,” Hobie comments, and Pavitr nods.

“Weddings, my favourite,” Jess says, a fond expression on her face as she thinks back to her own husband.

“I had a bird fly into my face at my wedding…but they are nice,” Peter says, rocking Mayday gently as she naps away after the hearty dinner even despite the commotion.

You continue to flip through the photobook, pausing periodically for a little anecdote about each one. Miguel had long stood up to make room for everyone else, but he looked at you in the same way he did on your wedding day.

Like you were the light of his life, the one good thing he had amongst the millions of universes parallel to his own. Like you were his everything.

~

“Admit it, you like them,” you smile, the house finally quiet after everyone headed home. He only rolls his eyes before pulling you into his lap, his face going into the crook of your neck as he holds you close.

“There is a big difference between ‘liking’ and ‘tolerating’, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing circles into your hip soothingly.

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Whatever you say,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling into his touch with a happy sigh.

You both sit there for a moment in silence, the two of you weren’t ones to fill silence with mindless chatter. If words needn’t be said then they weren’t.

“That was…nice, though,” he admits softly after a little while.

“I know,” you whisper.

~

~

~

“That won’t happen again for a long while though,” he says, pulling away to look at you, crimson eyes pleading with you wordlessly.

You can’t do anything but laugh.

Taglist (for those who requested a part two): @lotustv @mars-ifuknowmeirlplsgoaway @elliewilliamsactualgf @randomhumans-blog @iluvkonig @phillygraves @gothgirlziez

[babybluebex]

needs and wants | eric aqpdo x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in the direct aftermath of the apocalypse, you meet a man who's worse for wear in just about every regard. even though you can't do too much to heal his injuries, it's possible that you can heal his heart. wc 10.6k (she's a doozy) 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: eric (a quiet place: day one, 2024) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: SPOILERS FOR AQPDO, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT THE FILM SPOILED!, mentions of death/general apocalypse things, panic attacks, mentions of suicidal thoughts/actions (if you know eric's backstory that ended up cut from the film, he talks ab it), far too much intimacy for what this is, smut (minors dni): p in v, tit sucking, condom use 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: umm... i have no excuse for this... other than i need eric on a carnal level lol. hope you enjoy!!

It was funny how your whole world could change in a single day. And it was supposed to be a good day too; you had racked up enough PTO to allow yourself a full day off of work, and you had plans. You were going to brunch with your girlies that you hadn’t seen since nursing school, you were going to rent a movie at home, watch rom-coms in your underwear— you looked forward to sleeping in, taking a bubble bath, going to sleep early. You only achieved one part of that: you hadn’t even received the mimosa pitcher you had ordered when you heard the noise outside, as loud as a rocket taking off on the street just outside the hip brunch place, and you had hardly turned to look out the window when your world fell apart. 

Silence became your norm. Fear overtook you at every turn, giving your hands a perpetual shake that you weren’t certain would ever wear off. You didn’t know too much psychological or neurological stuff— you were a trauma nurse, emergency room and ICU type stuff, you were more concerned with stopping the blood flow and stabilizing vitals than ever caring about the after-effects of shit— but you wondered if the shaking of your hands was forever part of you now. You were good under pressure, never scared, but whatever the fuck those creatures were out there had changed the makeup of your being in a single second. 

When the helicopters buzzed overhead, drawing the monsters toward them and away from the city, and they announced that boats were departing from a nearby dock, you knew you had to go. More than saving yourself, you knew some very hurt and very sick people would gather there. You were sure that FEMA people would be swarming the boats to take care of the sick and injured, but you didn’t know what else to do. Your brain went on a sort-of autopilot, and you did the only thing you could think to do: you followed the crowd out to the docks. 

You had never gone that long without talking. Your throat was so dry from debris and dust anyway that you weren’t even sure that you could talk. Your clothes were torn, various small injuries that weren’t anything some disinfectant and a Band-Aid couldn’t fix, along with a gash on your calf that you had determined would be fine for now but could definitely use some tending-to once on the boat, plus your shaky hands, but otherwise you were fine. When the windows shattered and the monsters invaded, your table had overturned from the force of the sonic blast, and your animal instincts kicked in, throwing yourself behind the table and barricading there. You were one of the lucky ones— you lived. Sure, glass cut up your knees and palms, and you couldn’t even breathe without worrying that your breaths would alert the monsters, but you had lived. That was more than some could say. 

You felt packed out like sardines on the boat. Standing room only, except for the few exceptions of the people who were hurt or passed out. You had meager belongings in your pockets, although you weren’t sure how helpful your dead cell phone or essentially-useless credit cards would be in a time like this, but at least you had your work badge in your purse when you went to brunch. You found someone who looked like they were in charge, dressed in all-grey, not a military uniform but not civilian clothes either, and you silently showed them your badge, declaring yourself as a trauma nurse at a hospital in Brooklyn, and you gestured around, trying to ask if there was anything you could do to help. The woman shook her head, but folded her hands in a sort of ‘thank-you’ gesture.

You managed to stand towards the back of the ship, against the railing, next to the ladder, and you flinched at the loud chug of the boat casting off from the dock. Surely the monsters heard that. Everybody around you seemed to hold a deep breath, anticipatory, awaiting the worst to come at your final moments of salvation, but thankfully the monsters weren’t concerned with you all— maybe you were too far out in the water and, if the announcements from the helicopters were to be believed, the monsters couldn’t swim, so they didn’t care too much about the boat. Or maybe, the sudden sound of glass shattering from the shore, followed by shrill car alarms, captured their attention better. 

You watched, horrified, as you spotted a woman racing down the street, hardly noticeable from the distance, but the sun glinted off of a silver metal pipe in her hand as she raised it in the air, and she smashed the window of the car next to her as she raced away. 

“Hell’s she doing…?” The man next to you mumbled, and you instinctively put your hand on his shoulder to silence him, even though there was no need. The world had changed in a day, habits had formed in 24 hours, and you wondered how long it would take to shake the new habits. You watched the woman flit between cars, trying to outpace the monsters as she smashed windows, but then something else caught your attention. On the dock, there was a man. Wearing a yellow sweater, carrying something that you couldn’t identify, running like his life depended on it towards the edge of the dock. And maybe it did; a few straggling monsters had started after him instead of the woman, and he had to have known as well as you did that the water was safe. 

Your heart rammed up into your throat as he ran, faster and faster, white sneakers hitting the metal dock, and he looked over his shoulder for a moment at the monster that was meters, feet, away from him, before he righted himself forward and hurtled himself off the edge of the dock. Everyone on the boat was watching now as he flew for a brief moment, suspended in the air as time stood still, and then plummeted into the water below. The monsters skidded to a halt at the edge of the dock, one curled claw extended out, a scrap of yellow cardigan stuck on its talon. 

By now, everyone had come to the same conclusion, and started to gather at the ladder onboarding right next to you— the man would need help coming aboard. You all watched anxiously as he surfaced from the water, frantically looking around and gulping air as he tried to keep his head above water and orient himself. Finally, he looked towards the boat, and you could have sworn that he looked at you instead of anybody else. He gained his senses quickly, starting to swim out towards the boat, and you caught sight of the little white whatever-it-was he was holding: a cat. The cat seemed safe and unharmed, definitely soggy but no worse for wear, and you crouched down, extending your arm down the ladder to meet him. 

You didn’t have the strength to help pull him aboard, but the man who had spoken next to you gently moved you, and he grasped the wet man’s arm and pulled him up the last few rungs of the ladder. He heaved breaths, his eyes all big and round as he took in his surroundings. Then, if you were unsure whether he was looking at you before or not, he extinguished any doubts you had this time around, because his eyeline landed on you. He was startled, hurt, traumatized— those wet eyes had seen some things, worse than you had seen. 

You helped him move away from the ladder and back towards a more secluded part of the boat, and the FEMA woman you had “talked” to before came to your side, a first aid kit in one hand and a heavy wool blanket in the other. 

“Sir?” you croaked. Jesus Christ, speaking really was a challenge. You cleared your throat, hoping that would improve things, and you said, “Sir, are you hurt?” 

He shook his head quickly, clutching the cat in his arms, and you spotted the gash on his shin. The leg of his pants was torn and shredded, and you could bet that the wound was pretty fresh. “You can speak,” you told him gently. “We’re safe here.” 

He looked at you, tears streaming down his face, and in a hushed voice, said, “How can you be so sure?” 

They said the boat ride would last through the day and you would arrive by nightfall, but FEMA assured you that the destination would be worth it. A little island, they said, off the northern coast of the state, that used to house a summer camp but was abandoned however long ago. The buildings there, houses, old camp cabins, would take some sprucing up, they told you, but it was safe, and it could turn into home. As night fell, factions were made, and people divided as best as possible— the vulnerable ones, the hurt ones, the kids, went to the inside part of the boat, and the healthy stayed outside, huddled under the wool blankets and trying to forget the cold November ocean air berating their faces. 

The yellow-cardiganed man was moved inside, and you moved through the small crowd in there, doing what you could to help. Passing out crackers and water bottles, winding gauze around bloody injuries, squeezing hands and offering small words of encouragement. It wasn’t a lot, but it felt good to help. 

Eventually, you couldn’t ignore your fatigue anymore, and you sat down on the floor against the back wall with a sigh. It was a low din inside there, so you felt relatively safe making a little bit of noise, and you sniffled and zipped open the inside pocket of your coat. The stuff you had stashed from your purse was in there, and you frowned down at your brick of a cell phone, the screen shattered. You cast it aside, then pulled out your wallet, rifling through it to see what went missing. Thankfully, your license was still there, so if anybody needed identification at any point, you had that covered; an old fast food gift card that you were sure still had money on it but was useless now; and an old paper movie ticket that you had saved with the intention of putting it in a scrapbook. Your heart panged with hurt, and you checked every other section of your wallet, but it was empty. 

Your house keys were certainly back on the floor of the restaurant, and you thought about the key to your mother’s house that lived on the ring. You hadn’t been able to contact her since the monsters came— the last thing you said to her was a text the morning of brunch, telling her to have a good day, and she had sent the classic mom :-) emoticon to you. Was she still alive? Had she managed to escape the monsters? Even though she didn’t live in the city, you wondered how far the monsters had traveled. Her neighbors were a family, with a high-school age son who played basketball and mowed your mother’s lawn; for your sanity, you chose to believe that they had taken her in (along with her prized African violets). 

A little noise came from in front of you, someone clearing their throat, and you looked up through your welling tears to see him. Damp yellow cardigan, wool blanket loose around his shoulders, curls wet and flat to his forehead. He stood still, watching you for a moment, before he spoke, a little louder than the first time but still a whisper. “Never caught your name,” he said. An accent. Not a native New Yorker. 

You told him with a shrug. Your eyes canvassed his frame, watching him shiver a little in what was probably an adrenaline rush, and your eyes landed on that nasty cut on his shin. It wasn’t actively bleeding, but still very red. It looked maybe a little inflamed, a tiny bit swollen, and you started to reach out for it, but stopped yourself. Your hands were filthy and, if infection was already setting in the way you suspected it was, whatever germs you had probably weren’t good for the wound. You withdrew your hand and settled in your lap, and you cleared your throat. “One of the FEMA people can help with that,” you told him, nodding towards his leg. “Bandages and anti-inflammatories and shit.” 

“Aren’t you a nurse?” the man asked, now his turn to nod at you. You had clipped your badge to the collar of your coat and, even though the plastic flower that had once surrounded the metal clip was shattered and long gone, the clip still served its purpose. 

“I am,” you said. “But I don’t have bandages.” You cracked a loose smile, and you winced at the bottle of water and pile of crackers next to you on the floor. “I’ve got crackers and water.” 

“I’m starving,” he told you, returning the small smile. “May I?” 

You nodded, and he worked himself down to the floor (he seemed to be favoring his left ankle a little, the same leg with the gash). He settled back against the wall, sighing heavily, and he took a pack of crackers into his hands and read the label for a moment. “‘Peanut butter’,” he read. “D’ya like these?” 

“They’re alright,” you said. “I used to buy the same ones, shove ‘em in my work bag to eat between patients. Kinda bland and gross, but they get the job done.” 

He nodded, and he tore the corner of the plastic sleeve and extracted a peanut butter cracker. “I used to like the ones with, erm, cream cheese and chives,” he said. “A quick snack at work. S’never what I wanted to eat, but sometimes I’d be at the office ‘til late, and at that point, take what you can get, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “What did you do?” 

“Lawyer,” he said, popping one of the crackers into his mouth. 

“Oh, shit,” you chuckled. “Yeah, you had some long nights… My sister’s husband is a paralegal, he used to tell me all about it.” 

“Cool,” he told you. “And you, Miss Nurse?”

“And me what?” you asked.

“What’s your husband do?” he asked. 

You laughed. You couldn’t help it. “I’d have to have one of those for him to have a job,” you said. “No, being a nurse is very, like… If you’re not married by the time you leave nursing school, all hope is lost. You won’t ever have any free time to go on dates or even think about that sorta stuff.” 

“Same with law school,” he told you. “All my mates were engaged or married when we graduated, and everyone always told me, ‘Oh, Eric, you’ll find the right girl! She’s out there somewhere’, and it’s like… If she’s not in my office building or on the subway home at 2AM, I’m not meeting her.” 

“You went to school around here?” you asked, and he (you assumed his name was Eric, based on his anecdote) nodded, then shrugged. 

“Cornell,” he said. “Then got hired at a firm in the city, and just… Never left.” 

“Well, that’s cool,” you said lightly. “I’m assuming you’re not from around here?”

He shook his head. “Kent,” he said. “About an hour out from London.”

“Wow,” you said softly. “That change must’ve been… A lot.”

Eric shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “It was alright, I suppose. At that time, I was sorta fighting with my dad all the time, really wanting to leave and go somewhere but he didn’t want that…” He trailed off, letting the conclusion form by itself. “Haven’t seen ‘em in-person since then. I always said I was busy, or it was too expensive, or… I was supposed to go back home at Christmas… My sister had a baby and I was supposed to meet him then…” He trailed off, obviously at a loss for what else to say, and you sighed.

“I’m sure they’re okay,” you told him, even though you yourself doubted it. “I mean, maybe the monsters are only here. They don’t like water; if they came from here, they can’t get over there.”

Eric nodded slowly. His eyes scanned the room, looking and listening, and he reached his hand out in front of him, making a small noise with his tongue against his teeth. You followed his gaze and found his cat, all furry with white and black spots, being adored and pet by a little boy sitting on a cot close by, and Eric tutted at the cat again. The cat turned their big dark eyes to their owner, and dutifully trotted over, snuggling in-between Eric’s criss-cross-applesauce legs.

“Who’s this?” you asked.

“Frodo,” Eric said, stroking the cat between his ears. Frodo began to purr, his eyes closing blissfully, and Eric said, “He was my friend’s, but she… She told me to take care of him.”

Your mind brought back the image of the woman running, distracting the monsters away from Eric. “Was that the one who…?” you started, and Eric nodded.

“He was her service animal,” he said. “She had cancer, he sort-of alerted her whenever her pain medication was going out… Also kept her company in hospice. He’s quiet, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Well, none of us have to worry about that,” you said, and Eric took in a breath. “Not anymore. Not with the island.”

“Right,” Eric sighed. “Almost forgot.”

“I’m worried I’ll never go back to normal,” you admitted. “Even just two days of thinking like this… Trauma’s so fucking weird.”

Eric nodded in agreement. You caught him staring at your hands, shaking and shivering as they laid in your lap, and he started to unwind the blanket from around himself to settle over you, but you shook your head. “M’not cold,” you told him. “Just… Nervous. Y’know?”

Eric watched you for a moment, making sure that you weren’t bullshitting him (you were a little; your coat was wet through, and you definitely could do with a dry coat, but you would live), and he said, “I think you need to pet my cat.”

“Do I?” you asked with a chuckle.

“You sure do,” Eric nodded. “He doesn’t bite or scratch— he might nibble your fingers a little, but only ‘cause he’s curious.”

You reached out for Frodo, letting him sniff your hand a little before he shoved his solid little head under your fingers, squinting his eyes as you started to scratch behind his ears. You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, and you said, “He’s very sweet.”

“He’s smart too,” Eric said. “He can do maths. Look’it: Frodo, what’s one minus one?”

Frodo, of course, responded in silence, and Eric smiled, cocking his head. “I think that’s impressive,” he said, and you huffed out a laugh.

“Silly,” you mumbled under your breath, moving to scratch Frodo on his chin. “When’s the last time he’s eaten? I can try to find something for him.”

“Last night,” Eric said, his smile faltering. “Sam might’ve given him something earlier this morning, but I didn’t wake up until later.”

That’s how you greeted the island, petting Frodo and sharing light stories about your past lives. Nothing too heavy or sad or emotional, even though it felt like any story about your past life held an air of sadness and mourning. You could try to go back to normal, but normal was long gone. As everyone departed the boat under the dusky stars, there was a large team of FEMA workers to greet you with big, heavy bags and send you to an empty cabin for the night. You and Eric (and Frodo) stuck together, and you received your bags and moved down to a cabin. To your surprise, the lights worked, as did a small space heater in the corner, but you can tell it had been running for some time, because the inside was already warm. Several beds were set up and made with thin, government-issued bedsheets, but it was far better than nothing.

You went about unpacking the bag as Eric moved to the small bathroom and shut the door. There was a change of clothes, sweatshirt and pants and underwear and socks, basic toiletries like a toothbrush and shampoo and a small bar of soap, two bottles of water, a plastic packaged MRE (you had Menu 3, “chicken, egg noodles, and vegetables in sauce”), and some things like Band-Aids and small packages of Advil like what you kept stocked in the ER, along with a sanitary napkin, and, the piece de resistance (courtesy of the American government, you’re very welcome), a condom. You frowned at the last thing and slid it into your toiletries bag underneath the bar of soap to hide it; to be frank, sex was the last thing you wanted or needed. Your brain was still in survival mode, and you didn’t even feel like you could settle down enough to sleep, let alone to fuck. Could anybody here?

You heard the shower squeak on in the bathroom, and the pipes creaked as water rushed through. You stripped off your clothes, exchanging them for the warmer and drier and less dirty option, and you sniffled as your fingers began to warm up, becoming less stiff but considerably more sweaty. The bed creaked under you as you sat down, the springs screaming at you, and you rubbed the paper-thin blanket between your fingers. It reminded you of the quality of the hospital, where you might as well be using copy paper instead of fabric. If you had known that your last night in your bed, with your memory foam pillow and weighted blanket, would truly be your last, you would have savored the experience far more. Would you even be warm enough under those blankets?

You couldn’t ponder it any longer, because Frodo suddenly caught a bee in his bonnet, and he skittered from atop the second bed, where Eric had settled his things before he went to the shower. He careened to the closed bathroom door, and he got up on his hind legs, pawing at the door handle. Wordlessly, he craned his tiny head to look at you, and he made the first cat noise you heard him make, a sort of “mrrow” chirping groan. As you got up and went to grab him (“Eric’s just taking a shower, Fro, he’ll be right back”), Frodo turned back to the door and began to bat at the handle, like he was attempting to turn it.

And then you remembered. Frodo was a service cat. He had been trained to alert for certain things, and Eric had mentioned rising pain levels, but what else could Frodo alert for? Suddenly, your heart jumped into your throat, and you knocked on the door. “Eric? You okay?” you asked, but you received no answer. “Eric? Hey, man, Frodo’s freaking out, are you alright in there?”

It was hard to hear too much over the sound of the running shower, but you heard the unmistakable shaking breath of a gasping sob, and, maybe against your better judgement, you turned the door handle. The door wasn’t locked, and the hinges squeaked as you opened the door. Eric had shed his blanket and cardigan and loosened his tie, but he was backed into the far corner of the bathroom, staring at the porcelain bathtub with eyes as big as dinner plates. The faucet was running, the tub filling up, but Eric was frozen. Quickly, you turned the tap and shut off the water, and you gave him his space as you asked “What’s wrong? Can you tell me what happened?”

Eric shook his head, his mouth contorting into an ugly sob, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Tears leaked out, and he just kept shaking his head over and over. “No, no,” he mumbled. “No!”

“Hey, easy,” you told him gently. “What’s going on? How can I help?”

“Th-The water,” Eric gasped. “I—I—” His knees gave out, and he slumped against the wall with a sob. He began to claw at his shirt, at the topmost button; even though it was undone, he still seemed to want it looser.

You rushed to his aid, pushing his hands aside and starting at his shirt buttons. His eyes were still shut tight, but you needed to see his pupils— if he was in shock, or if something else was happening, the dilation of his pupils could help tell you. “Eric,” you said softly. “Open your eyes, please. Please? I need to see your eyes.”

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and you saw his pupils so big and dark, they almost overtook the brown of his iris. His face was pale, his chest heaving as you undid his buttons, and you pressed your fingers to the side of his neck to check his pulse. Fast, hard, heavy. You had been by his side all night, he hadn’t taken any medication that he could be having a reaction to, and he had been eating the same crackers and water that you had. There weren’t many other conclusions to come to— a panic attack. But at what?

Eric sank down to the floor, sobbing and shaking, and you followed him, putting a gentle but controlling grip on his wrists. You didn’t think he would, but you needed to control him if he started to get violent. “Eric, take a breath,” you told him. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you, okay? Everything is alright.”

Eric sucked in a breath and doubled over on himself, and you kept your hands on his wrists as you shifted away— if he got sick, you didn’t want it on your clothes. Although, you were sure you could get different ones somehow. But he didn’t get sick, he just kept crying. You felt awful and tasted bitter in your mouth. Typically, at this point, you would be paging the mental health wing to come by and evaluate him, and you’d move on to the next person waiting in the ER. You didn’t know how to talk someone down from a panic attack. You didn’t even know how to do that for yourself, let alone for Eric.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Okay, it’s okay. What happened? Did something happen?”

Eric’s eyes glazed over you and settled behind your shoulder, and you looked back to see the bathtub. It was hardly half-full, but everything clicked into place. “The water,” you said. “You’re afraid of the water. Is that it?”

Eric sniffled and nodded weakly, and you blinked away tears. “That’s okay,” you whispered. “That’s totally okay. I mean, you had to jump into the water to get away from the monsters, I don’t blame you for being afraid—”

“I was down in the subway,” Eric blurted out. “When the monsters came. I was there, and I couldn’t stop thinking, I just kept thinking, and I… I didn’t have the guts to do it. I wanted to do it, I wanted to! But I was too scared that it would hurt. Was scared I’d looked too fucked up and they wouldn’t be able to tell who I was, and my-my mum, thinking about my mum being told, it would kill her, and I was just thinking… And the water came rushing in. Filled everything up, there was no air… I had to swim, and I can’t swim, I never learned really, but I was swimming and I just thought ‘I don’t actually want to die’. But I started feeling spotty, all lightheaded and fairy, and I think I was starting to drown, but I saw the light and came up…”

You were at a loss for words. If you were understanding him, he had been trying to kill himself before the monsters. It sounded like he was moments away from stepping in front of a train. His saving grace was the flood in the tunnels. You had trouble swallowing as your throat went thick, and you lowered your eyes for a minute before you loosened your grip on his wrists. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “You’re gonna be alright. Do you want to take a shower instead?”

Eric shook his head. “Doesn’t work,” he mumbled. “Only the tub does.”

You sighed heavily. “Do you want me to stay?” you asked. “Or I can wait outside the door?”

Eric seemed edging into a catatonic state, just shivering and blinking, and you frowned. You finished your abandoned job of undoing his shirt buttons, and you loosened his tie until it came off completely, and you gently pushed off his stained and ragged buttoned shirt. His undershirt wasn’t in much better shape, the underarms and neck stained with sweat, and you started to take it off, but paused. “Is this okay?” you asked. He didn’t react to your question, just staring at your neck, and you carefully angled his head up to look you in the face. “Eric. Is it okay if I undress you and put you in the bath? I’ll be right here the whole time, I won’t leave you alone.”

Eric weakly nodded, shifting his arms a little to better help you pull his undershirt over his head, and his hands went down to his pants to finish the job. You quickly considered what the next steps were as Eric fished his belt from his pants loops, and you pushed the sleeves of your sweatshirt up to your elbows to free up your hands. Eric, now only in his boxers, gave you a pathetic look, and you took him by the hand and helped him to his feet. You figured that he had forgone removing his boxers for a reason, so you didn’t push it, and you held him stable as he lifted a shaking foot over the edge of the bathtub. He was silent, but you watched tears run down his cheeks as he settled both feet in the water, his grip on your hand so tight that it almost hurt.

Slowly, he sat down in the tub, and the water splashed your hand. It was warm but not hot enough to hurt, and you sat by the edge of the bathtub, watching Eric as he sniffled. He certainly was dirty after two days in an apocalyptic city, and you were sure that you weren’t any better off, and you started to get up to retrieve the toiletry bag that he had brought in with him, settled by the sink, but his tight grip only became more vice-like as you tried to depart. “Don’t—” he choked out, and you shushed him gently.

“I’m not leaving,” you told him. “Just getting the shampoo and stuff, just by the sink.”

“Can you get in?” Eric asked softly, almost at a whisper. “When you come back?”

“I-In?” you repeated. “Like, in the bath?”

Eric nodded. He was watching you with his big, intense eyes, and a shiver ran down your back.

“Okay,” you told him. “Umm… I don’t know if I can. I don’t have any other clothes, and I can’t get these wet.”

“Please?” Eric whimpered. “Need… Just need help.”

Maybe it was because you felt bad for him, or maybe you were feeling something that you didn’t want to consider yet, but regardless of the reason, you nodded. You got up from the floor and retrieved the bag from the sink counter, and you came back to the tub. The sides of the tub were curved, not allowing for you to settle the stuff on the edge, and you quickly handed the shampoo and soap to him. He held them gingerly, and he averted his eyes down to the water as you put the bag down and started to pull off the sweatshirt. “Eric,” you said softly. “You can look. You’re gonna see everything in the next few minutes anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

Slowly, Eric raised his eyes up, but he still didn’t look staright at you. At least now it wasn’t obvious that he was avoiding looking at you like before, where it felt like he would be burned alive if he looked. You carefully pulled the sweatshirt over your head and set it by your feet, then you pulled down the sweatpants and stepped out of them. Your heart was beating quickly as you lowered yourself into the bathtub, sitting with your back to Eric, and he nudged his legs a little wider to allow you to sit comfortably. The water felt good on your aching muscles, especially your back, and you sighed lightly. You sat for a moment, trying to drum up enough courage to turn to him and start to help, but he beat you to it.

Eric’s hands were warm, his palm a little rough, as he touched your shoulder, sliding his hand down a little to reach your back. His fingers played with the ends of your hair, and he lowered his hand back to the water. He cupped his palm and let water flow in, then he brought it up to you and wet your hair. Was this his definition of help? To help himself, he had to help others? It made sense, but it still took you a little by surprise. You don’t think anybody had ever washed your hair for you, not since you were a kid. But this was different, in just about every way possible. It was intimate in a way that made your breath catch in your throat, and you swallowed thickly as Eric lifted a hand and tilted your head back to lightly pour water over the front of your hair. He was careful in his work, making sure not to get it on your face or in your ears, and you listened to his breathing even out as he diligently did his task.

The shampoo was some cheap, basic crap, didn’t smell like anything and was only good for getting the oil out of your hair, but the way that Eric worked it into your hair made it seem like it was made by the gods. You felt relaxed, the first time in a long time, and your eyes slipped close as his fingertips worked into your scalp. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that good, especially by someone else’s hands— maybe years, it was hard to say. You knew that, no matter how good it felt, you couldn’t sink too hard into the feeling of it. Eric just needed to help you, and this was his help; nothing more, nothing less.

He gently poured water from his palms over your hair, rinsing it out as best as possible, and you felt that hot streak shoot up your nose. You wanted to cry. You hadn’t cried in… You had no idea. It certainly had been a long time, and you frowned and gulped as you held down the tears. Unluckily for you (or maybe luckily; it was nice to know Eric was so attentive), he noticed your catched breathing, and his hands gently settled on your shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Are you?” you answered, almost a knee-jerk reaction. Don’t worry about yourself, worry about your patient, your friend, anybody else. You came last in your mind, everybody else was more important than you.

“That’s not what I asked you,” Eric said firmly. “Are you okay?”

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, that nothing was wrong. He didn’t need to worry about you, you were tough, you could handle yourself. You watched as water filtered through your own fingers, pooling in your palm but escaping out of every little break and crevice possible, and you pursed your lips as you slowly rubbed your face, trying to wash away to grime and dirt. You shook your head lightly, trying to come up with any words to express yourself, and you wiped off your cheeks as you sniffled. “I don’t know.” You couldn’t come up with any better explanation; you just didn’t know if you were okay or not. Your hands slid down your face and flattened up against your neck, and you sighed. “Are you okay?” you tried again.

“I’ll be okay,” Eric told you. His hands smoothed down your shoulders to your arms, and he squeezed your upper arm for a moment before he went for the soap, starting up a lather between his palms.

“Well, sure, we’ll all be okay eventually,” you replied. “But are you okay right now?”

Eric waited until he was washing your back to answer. His sudsy hands slipped over your skin easily, but he dug his fingertips into your muscles, offering relief. “I’ll be okay,” he repeated. “I don’t know what I am right now, to be honest. Head’s just full of… I don’t know. A whole lot of noise, but not any one thing. It’s all quiet out here, but in there, it’s just…” He sighed, and his hands halted at your sides. He obviously had been on track to move to your front, doing his job on autopilot, and he only thought about what he was doing as he was about to do it.

Silently, you shifted your weight back just a hint, closer to him, trying to tell him that it was alright without saying the words. He quickly caught on to what you were telling him, and his hands slid around your body to your front. To your relief, he avoided where you had expected his hands to go, instead wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hugging himself to you, setting his chin on your shoulder. “You make it quiet up there,” Eric whispered, barely above a breath, like he was afraid of saying it out loud. “I don’t know how, I don’t know why… But you start talking, and it’s like everything else fades away.”

That was your breaking point. Tears started to fall from your eyes, and you sniffled as your hands reached up to your neck and clutched his wrists, looking for anything tangible to hold on to while you cried. And cried you did, your face contorted as you sobbed, your shoulders shaking and chest heaving, and you squeezed Eric’s wrists. He was quick to move impossibly closer, molding his front to your back, and his arms slipped down to your middle, squeezing you tightly as he buried his face in your neck and began to cry as well. He was much quieter than you, not having nearly as much that he held back and needed to get rid of, but it felt good to have someone commiserate with you.

You weren’t sure who moved first— maybe there wasn’t a first to move, maybe you both moved at the same time— but somehow your foreheads came to touch, and your crying pettered down to a sniffle and watery eyes. Your hand came up to touch his cheek, scruffy with a few days’ old beard trying to grow in, and your thumb stroked his cheekbone. He keened into your touch, his eyes fluttering open to look at you. His big brown eyes, so full of every emotion, hidden just so but easy to see if you knew where to look, locked on yours, and your lips fell open in anticipation of his mouth on yours.

Instantly, though, you shifted away and lightly cleared your throat. This wasn’t the time for that. You didn’t know if there would ever be a time for that again. Quietly, you splashed water on your face, and stood up, carefully getting out of the bathtub and going after the towel that sat on the countertop. You scooped your clothes up off the floor as well, and you escaped from the bathroom without a word. You were sure he was confused, maybe even wounded, but you didn’t care. On some level, you did want that— you wanted to feel wanted, to feel adored, cared about, and Eric was a great guy for that, but you didn’t want just that. You wanted a life, you wanted a partner, you wanted love— not just some trauma-borne fuck that you forgot about as soon as it happened.

You dried your body and slipped into your full outfit, pants and sweatshirt and underwear and socks, and you sat on your bed as you dried your hair. You listened as, inside the bathroom, the water sloshed against the side of the tub while Eric moved around, and you watched as Frodo calmly stalked the perimeter of the room, seeming to check every nook and cranny. You put your damp towel to the side and tutted out at the cat, and Frodo looked up at you for a moment before he scampered over to you, hopping up onto the bed and settling himself in your lap. “You’re a good boy, Fro,” you whispered, stroking his back. “Such a good boy.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Eric’s voice floated to you, and you turned to him. He was now all clean as well, his hair soggy and his face free of grime, wearing the sweatpants and sweatshirt. His hair was pushed away from his face, and you could see, even in the dim light, freckles dotting his forehead.

You sighed. “No,” you replied. “I’m just… I don’t know.”

“Did you not want me to…?” Eric began.

“No, no, it’s not that,” you told him quickly. “Not that at all, I did want you to, I just… I don’t know if I can do all that.”

“All what?” Eric asked. “What did you think was going to happen if I kissed you?”

“Well,” you shrugged. “I don’t know, I assumed more would come of it. And I just don’t know if I’m ready for more. Even before the world came crashing down, I wasn’t ready for more. That’s why I didn’t have anyone; not because I didn’t have time, although that was true. I’m just… Scared.”

Eric quietly moved towards you, bypassing his bed and settling at the extreme edge of yours, as far away as possible while still occupying the same space. Frodo looked at him with thin eyes and he slowly blinked at Eric, and his tail flopped in an indignant half-wag. “Scared of what?” Eric asked.

You sighed. “That I won’t be right for anyone,” you said. “Even back when I was on the market, people always… I don’t know. Wanted more, and for whatever reason, I could never give more to them. I was always so afraid of what would happen when I finally gave all of myself to someone that I never did, and by the time I figured out that someone did want all of me, it was too late and I’d already lost them. I can never win— I’m always never enough or I’m too much. I’m never just right.”

Eric thought on your words for a few moments, and he moved closer to you, just an inch. “Yeah,” he said. “But that was back then. Everything has changed. Everything is different now. You don’t need to be afraid of being what’s right, because what used to be right is just… All sorts of fucked up now. Nobody knows anything anymore. I certainly don’t. But I know what I want, more than I ever have before.”

“And let me guess,” you said. “You want me?”

You hoped that calling him out on his cheesy cliché would have him back down. You liked that he wanted you, and you wanted him too, you wanted him so badly that it hurt, but you didn’t want him to mistake wanting you for wanting a connection with someone.

“I want to be okay again,” Eric told you. “But I need you.”

That was the most magical word of all. Need. It punched a hole in your heart and took your breath away, and you watched him as he watched you, just seeing who would dare to break first. Frodo seemed to know something you didn’t, because he jumped up out of your lap and skittered across the room with an uncharacteristic yowl, and you frowned as he sped away, but your frown was quickly wiped off your face as Eric bridged the gap and kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He held your face as his lips moulded to yours, a perfect fit as you kissed back, and you wound your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. It felt good to kiss someone, to hold someone and be held by someone. You forgot how much you missed the feeling of another person, and you melted into his body as he claimed your hips in his strong hands. His knuckles were scuffed up, but he held you so gently, and you easily fell back onto the bed. He followed you, settling over you like he had done it a thousand times before, but the way his hands slowly slid up the sides of your shirt to touch your bare skin showed you how much it meant to him. Slow and gentle and sweet, he was everything you had wanted from a partner and a lover for as long as you could remember.

But you could tell, even though he was being sweet, how badly he wanted to have you. His kiss was greedy, shifting away from your mouth to kiss your chin and jaw and neck, almost feral with his need for you, but you welcomed it. Strong emotions like that were flattering, especially here and now, and you didn’t waste much time before sliding your hand past the elastic waistband of the sweatpants nestled around his hips. Your palm found his cock instantly, and you held in your gasp of surprise at his size— he definitely had something to be proud of. His skin was warm through the layer of his underwear, and you paused and widened your eyes at him, a quiet question of how far he wanted you to go.

“You don’t have to be quiet anymore,” Eric whispered. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You shivered underneath him at the sweet name he had bestowed on you, and you quietly asked, “Do you want me to…?”

“God, yes,” he moaned. “Haven’t done this in so long…”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile as you slipped under his briefs, and your fingers wrapped around his thick length. His skin was hot to the touch, his cock rock-hard, and he moaned softly into your neck at the contact. Whether he meant to or not, his hips rolled forward, pushing himself further into your grip, and he quickly whispered, “M’sorry, fuck—”

“Don’t apologize,” you told him. Your free hand went to cradle his cheek, and you shifted his face so that you could kiss his plush lips again. “It’s hot.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eric asked. “It’s hot how…” He paused to kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip with his front teeth, and he continued. “How desperate I am?”

“I am too,” you told him. “I just hide it better.”

Almost as if he was checking if you were lying, his hand skated down from your side and into your pants, letting his fingers mold to your cunt, and he chuckled lightly. “God, you’re wet,” he smiled. “That makes me feel better.”

“Were you worried I wasn’t?” you asked.

“Just a little,” Eric whispered, wrinkling his nose. “But I figured you’d tell me if something wasn’t working for you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you told him. You chased him into another kiss, and his tongue invaded your mouth. It had been so long since you had someone make you feel like that, and you whined softly into his mouth. “Eric, please.”

“What do you want?” he asked. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

“Anything,” you whimpered. Your legs shifted, coming up to anchor around his waist, and you slowly started to stroke his cock, teasing his soft head, just to see his reaction.

Thankfully, his cheeks went red, and that pretty pink mouth of his opened in a moan, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he mumbled, “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m already too close for you to be doing that.”

“Already?” you asked. You sounded a little more surprised than you meant to, and you quickly added, “That’s really attractive, Eric, I hope you know that.”

“What is?” he chuckled. “That I’ve got a short fuse?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged sheepishly. “I think it is, anyway. How can I help you?”

“Umm,” Eric said, then swallowed thickly. “Can I… Tits?”

You smiled at him, and you laid a gentle kiss on his lips before he shifted away, letting you pull up your sweatshirt. Your little survival packs hadn’t provided you with a bra of any kind, and you watched Eric’s already-wide eyes flare out at the sight of your chest. He didn’t say a word before he moved down your body and started to kiss everywhere he could reach, taking time and care on your tits. Your hand fell out of his pants at the angle shift, and you settled your fingers to twist in his damp curls as his own hand replaced yours, jerking himself off as he gently licked at your hardening nipple.

“S’that okay?” he whispered, casting his doe eyes up at you, and you nodded quickly. “’Cause if it’s not, I can stop—”

“I promise it’s okay,” you whispered. “I swear.”

Eric smiled. “She swears,” he whispered under his breath, and you giggled. “She swears she likes when I suck her tits. Aren’t I a lucky guy?”

You could hardly ignore the hot pressure between your legs, and you snaked your hand in-between your bodies and started to push down your sweatpants, but Eric noticed what you were up to, and he tugged his hand out of his own pants to capture the waistband of your sweatpants in his grasp. “Please,” he said. “Allow me.” You could tell that he intended to be funny, but his flushed face and fucked-out pupils made it seem a lot more pathetic than you’re sure he meant to be, but that just made a rush of heat strike your core, and your head fell back in bliss as you felt your hot skin slowly exposed to the air.

When you lifted your head back up to look at him, you watched as he shed his own clothes, finally matching you, and you bit your lip as his heavy cock rose to lay against his tummy. He had the thinnest trail of hair coming from down his belly button, smatterings of hair on his chest, a nicely-groomed bush of hair at the base of his cock; he clearly cared about the way he looked, and you loved that. You wondered if the Eric you knew was anything like the Eric before the monsters came, and you watched as he leaned back and began to gently place kisses down the length of your body. He was soft and gentle with you, although you were nearly certain he wanted to take you then and there, and you wiggled a little under his lips. “Can we…” you started. “Do that later?”

“Do what?” Eric asked.

“The whole ‘sweet and kissy’ thing,” you said. “Not to sound, like, sex-starved or anything, but I am, and I think my heart’s gonna explode if you’re not inside me soon.”

Eric chuckled, obviously not expecting that level of honesty out of you, and he pushed his damp curls off of his forehead. “Whatever you’d like, sweetheart,” he told you. “As long as you promise to let me eat your cunt eventually. I can only go so long seeing you like this and be expected to not put my mouth on you.”

“Sure,” you replied, secretly excited that he was expecting a second time.

Eric swiped a quick kiss on your mouth, and then he furrowed his eyebrows. “Umm…” he began. “I— Do you… Are you on any birth control or anything?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “No,” you sighed. “I was, but all that’s back in my apartment in Brooklyn. Haven’t taken my pill since, like, three nights ago, so I’m basically fucked for the whole month.”

“Fuck,” Eric whispered, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “I guess, are you alright with this, then? We can figure something else out—”

“There’s, umm,” you winced. “A condom, in the bag with the shampoo and everything. There’s one in mine, and I bet there’s a second one in yours too.”

“Oh, shit, really?” Eric laughed. “That’s… That’s pretty funny.”

“Apparently, FEMA knows what people do in times of crisis,” you smiled.

“So, what I’m hearing,” Eric started, moving himself off the bed and going to your toiletries bag on the floor. His back turned to you, and you felt your eyes widen in shock at the state of his ass. Jesus Christ, this guy had a great ass, smooth and plump and perfectly rounded; you almost wanted to reach out and bite it. “Is that we can fuck twice, and then we’ll need to figure something else out.”

“Is that so?” you asked, and Eric came back to the bed, deftly tearing open the condom wrapper. You leaned up on your elbows to watch as he got back up on his knees, caging you between his thick thighs, and he made quick work of rolling the condom down his thick length, making a quiet grunt as he got it situated the way he wanted. “What makes you think there’ll be a third time? Or a second, for that matter?”

“Won’t there?” Eric asked. “You seem pretty into it right now. Or least your cunt is; look at how wet she is for me.”

“Well, yeah, now,” you teased him, biting the tip of your tongue, trying to will your thundering heart to go back to normal. “But what if, when everything is said and done, you’re actually a terrible fuck and I don’t want anything else to do with you?”

He laughed deep in his chest, and he took your thighs in his strong hands and opened your legs, smoothly settling himself so he could rub his hard cock against your weeping cunt. You felt blood thrumming under your skin, making every inch of you pulse and surge, and you whined high in your throat when the head of his cock caught at your hole, threatening to slip in with ease. “I doubt that, sweetheart,” he told you. “I’ve been told I’m a fantastic fuck.”

“Are you sure they weren’t trying to keep your ego intact?” you asked, and Eric tilted his head curiously at you.

“Well, they weren’t telling me much of anything,” he said. “Usually, by the end, they’re so fucked-out and brainless that they can hardly string a sentence together.”

Then, without a word of warning, he gripped your hips and slid himself inside of you, and you gasped. It had been so long that you had almost forgotten what sex felt like, but this was something entirely new and different. You could feel every ridge and vein on his cock, even through the condom, and he gave a delicious throb as you tightened your thighs around his hips. “Fuck!” you yelped, and a shade of worry passed over his face for just a moment. “I-I’m okay,” you told him quickly. “Just… Fuck, Eric, you’re so big.”

“You flatter me,” he chuckled. Slowly, he began to rock his hips into you, moving shallowly at first, just letting you get used to his size, and his dull fingernails buried into the flesh of your hip. You couldn’t help all the little noises he caused you to make— you could feel every inch of him, burying deep within you, stretching you and filling you like he was made for you, and he leaned down and ghosted against your lips with his. “Feel good?” he whispered, and you nodded quickly.

“Do I?” you asked softly. Your arms went around him, holding him close to you, and you pressed your fingers into his shoulders. He felt like a lifeline, his warm skin keeping you grounded, and you didn’t even care if you sounded pathetic or insecure. He made you feel good and safe, and that’s all that you cared about.

“Fuck, so good,” he grunted out. He was picking up speed, gaining a good rhythm that made you wonder how prolific he had been before his career got in the way, and you listened to the bed squeak under you as he mumbled, “So warm… So wet… You feel like a dream… Remember that short fuse I talked about?”

“Really?” you smiled. “Already?”

“Listen, woman,” Eric started, and you dragged him into a messy kiss. You loved him talking like that, and it made you realize just how close you were as well. He tugged away from the kiss to take a deep breath, and he went in to kiss you again, hungry and wanting you. He was going fast now, pumping in and out of you, leaving pleasure and sparks in his wake, and your legs twitched and tightened as the knot in your belly twisted closer and closer to its end. “I haven’t had sex in years,” Eric continued, finally tearing himself away from your lips. “And my right hand can only do so much after a while. So excuse me for being a little quick to the draw tonight.”

“How many years?” you asked.

Eric sighed. “I dunno,” he said. “At least since I graduated law school, so… Five years, maybe?”

“God,” you chuckled. “That’s… A while.”

“No, wait,” Eric said. “Three years. My birthday a few years ago, my mates took me out to a bar, and I met a girl, I spent the night at her place… And she never answered my texts after that.”

“Ouch,” you hissed. “That must’ve hurt that ego of yours.”

“Not gonna lie, it did,” Eric laughed. “But it’s for the best. I didn’t have time for a girlfriend anyway, I would’ve been an awful boyfriend to her. Or to anyone, not just her… What about you?”

“Umm…” you started. “Sex… Yes, I know what that is. Definitely a thing I’ve had before now.”

“Don’t play with me like that,” Eric started, jokingly wide-eyed and startled, and you laughed.

“About the same, I guess,” you said. “Three-ish years… It was back a few years ago, I was feeling bad about getting older and having a career but no partner, so I… I went on a dating app, found a guy, and we talked for a little bit and hooked up, but I got a bad vibe from him, so I broke it off.”

“I’m sorry,” Eric said. “Did you like him?”

“Not really,” you sighed. “And he wasn’t even that great in bed.”

“So, I’ve got him beat in every category, right?” Eric asked.

You kissed him again, cupping your hand across the back of his neck, and he smoothed his hands up your body lovingly. “You’ve got everyone beat, baby,” you told him.

“I think you’re an angel, actually,” Eric told you, and you shyly shook your head. “No, no, I think so. I don’t care if you don’t agree, that’s what I think.”

“Whatever you say,” you told him. “Can you, umm… Maybe a little faster?”

Eric obliged, pistoning his hips quicker to fuck you to your liking, and his hand floated to your pussy, his thumb gently rubbing at your throbbing little clit. You whined and scratched at his back, tightening your legs and digging your heel into that ass he had, and the electric shocks that ran up your toes and into the rest of your body started to become too good, too much. “Eric!” you gasped. “Eric, fuck!”

“I’ve got you, angel,” Eric whispered in your ear. “I’ve got you. Let me see that pretty face when you cum, yeah? Wanna feel your cunt squeeze me, fuck, I need it.”

You looked down at yourself, watching as his hard cock plunged in and out of your hole, leaving a creamy ring at the base of his cock, and your whining and whimpering almost had the wet squelch of your bodies together beat. Then, almost against your will, your whole body relaxed, every muscle feeling like it went slack, and you sobbed out your final moan, your head falling back as your nails went hard into his freckled shoulders. You felt your wet cover your inner thighs, and you panted as Eric chased his own end. You didn’t have to wait too long before you heard him choke back a moan, and he spilled himself inside the condom. You felt the warmth of his spend inside you, and he slowly pulled out of you with a hiss at the sensation on his sensitive, softening cock.

He was quick to take care of the condom, and he came back to the bed and settled in the small, empty space beside you. His red chest was heaving, his cheeks flooded with pink color, and he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you close to him. You melted into his warmth, mashing your cheek against his hard chest, and he let out a breathy laugh. “Fuck,” he gasped. “I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t eaten real food all day or what, but I’m exhausted.”

“Me too,” you giggled. “I think you were just that good.”

“Once again, angel,” Eric whispered, settling a soft kiss on your head. “You flatter me.”

You fell into a comfortable silence then, listening to each other’s breathing even out, and Eric cleared his throat after a while. “Typically, at this point,” he started. “I’d be smoking a cigarette.”

“Oh my God, Eric, no,” you groaned. “Don’t you know how unhealthy that is?”

“Oh, right,” Eric chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Miss Nurse. So concerned for my health.”

“Right,” you told him. “I care about you, and I don’t want you to have breathing complications or worse early in life from smoking.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Eric told you. “I think I need another shower after that, though.”

“You do sorta stink,” you giggled, and Eric rolled his eyes. “If you shower, I can be making food.”

“Food?” Eric asked. “There’s food?”

“Yeah, an MRE,” you told him, and you grunted as you got out of bed, going in search of the plastic-packaged meal. “Chicken and noodles. I didn’t see what yours was.”

“Fuck,” he laughed. “I’ve got a sexy woman making dinner for me? I might keep you around after all.”

“You have to keep me around,” you told him. “Who else is supposed to help you raise your cat?”

Frodo seemed to know his cue, because he revealed himself from behind a bookshelf, batting a bit of cobweb on his nose, and Eric smiled. “I suppose you’re right,” Eric said. “Just don’t feed him too much; he’ll get fat. He’ll also try to attack your hand if you pet his belly, so don’t do that either.”

“Noted,” you told him. “Go shower, handsome, this should be done by then.”

Eric took a moment to wrap his arms around you and press a kiss to your temple, and he softly said, “I wish we could have met any other way. But, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here now.”

“Me too,” you told him, turning in his arms to give him a real, genuine kiss. “I’m so glad you found me.”

[odoraful]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

wanderer would prefer not to be stopped on his way home, especially when he's had a hard few days

content: wanderer x gn!reader; established relationship; 'kuni' nickname; pure fluff; just wanderer lowkey being a pathetic lover boy for you; 1.9k words

a/n: nothing else to say here besides i had a lot of fun writing this !! pls enjoy clingy wanderer !!

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“Hat Guy! Do yo-”

“Nope.”

Wanderer deadpanned, not even sparing a look at the scholar who addressed him as he walked past. It was at this point where most people would give up. Students of the Akademiya found that you had to catch the snarky scholar on a good day to strike up a casual conversation with him outside of the classroom. Unfortunately, this person was tenacious enough to not even let such an outright rejection faze him. Wanderer walked faster, only for his peer to match his stride.

“Hold on!” They cried out, slightly breathless from having to speed up. “You’re really not going to let me finish what I’m saying first?”

Wanderer scoffed. “What gave you that impression? My visible irritation? Or the fact that I’m actively trying to outpace you?”

“Hey! You don’t have to be so rude…” They frowned, voice trailing off in disappointment.

Finally giving the person a side-eyed glance, he recognised them to be a fellow Vahumana scholar named Mir. Whilst Wanderer could acknowledge Mir’s intelligence, he was far too soft-hearted for how stubborn he was. At that deflated comment, Wanderer stopped dead in his tracks. Mir wobbled, skidding on his feet to stop as well.

He considered using his flying abilities to leave Mir in the dust. However, this plan was only a fleeting thought as he recalled a stern meeting he had with staff at the Akademiya. They scolded that he wasn’t allowed to use his powers to avoid interaction with his peers. Something about misconduct and lacking etiquette that Wanderer half-remembered, choosing to nod along rather than actually listen to the prattle from the professors.

“Mir.”

He perked up. Wanderer could see his self-esteem reassemble at the mere fact that his name was remembered.

“What do you want?” Wanderer seethed, each word punctuated through gritted teeth.

If Mir felt intimidated at all by Wanderer’s ire, it showed little on his face. He only brightened further, seizing his chance to speak.

“I wanted to see whether you wanted to go to a social event later tonight at Lambad’s! There’ll be free drinks and food, and it’s really just a friendly get together to boost morale. It’s meant to be for us Vahumana scholars to catch each other up on the work we’re doing, and on what’s been going on in our lives,” he rambled.

What could simply be said in a few words Mir incredibly managed to do in multiple sentences. Wanderer let out a loud sigh.

“Mir,” he began, folding his arms. “Let’s say, hypothetically, you’ve just returned from a long and arduous trip from the desert where you’ve used all your energy up to explore ruins. Would you want to spend what little time off you have for the day going to a crowded tavern with people you only barely know?”

Mir stuttered. It was the most Wanderer had spoken to him in one go.

“W-well, that’s a good question! I guess it depends on what kind of-”

“Just answer it.”

Wanderer interrupted, dismissing Mir’s frivolous technicalities with a wave of his hand.

“Alright! Probably not! I’d just want to go home and relax.”

“And there it is,” Wanderer opened his arms wide, like a magician revealing their latest trick, “my response to your invitation.”

He turned smoothly on his heel and walked off. Mir opened his mouth to protest, but none came out. He stood there slack-jawed at his own words being used against him. Fortunately, he didn’t follow any longer.

Wanderer would probably short circuit if he bumped into anyone else right now. What he had told Mir was the truth. He was on his way home from the Akademiya just after returning from a 2 day trip in the desert. He would have enjoyed the expedition far more if his professor hadn’t dragged him out on such short notice. Most likely, she had seen that his schedule wasn’t as busy for the next few days and roped him into a project of ‘great academic importance’. Time that would have been spent doing whatever he wanted to at home had been replaced by sweltering weathers and endless scribing of ancient tomes.

Fate was a truly cruel force. Especially so when it separated him from you without warning. At the thought of his partner, he recalled how he announced his departure. He had to leave that same day, and you had already left for work, so he scrawled a note and left it on the table for you to look at when you returned.

My professor has taken me on an research expedition last minute. I’ll be back in 2 days time. I’ll make it up to you.

Kuni.

Perhaps he would come back to see the same annoyance he had when dealing with Mir on your face at such a lukewarm message.

There was an inexplicable weight in his body when he walked. A dragging emotion that humans would probably label as tiredness. He needed to get home and fast. If he did arrive to a grumpy partner, he wouldn’t mind it. You were the only person who was actually worth dealing with in his eyes.

He looked around. The sun had retreated behind the horizon, and there were only a few people mingling around the street he was on. Perfect. It was empty enough for him to not cause a spectacle. Wind kicked up around him as he swiftly launched upwards, flying high above roofs. This would certainly cut his commute time in half. Quietly, he navigated the familiar streets towards home.

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Dots of yellow emerged below from hanging lamps across the city. The residents of Sumeru were preparing for the night, whether in revelry or idleness. The latter suited you more, as you began to unwind from a day of work and waited for Wanderer to arrive. The news that he needed to leave had surprised and saddened you a little. You were looking forward to spending more time with him over these few days when he wasn’t so busy with classes. If he kept to the words he wrote on that note, however, he would somehow make it up to you.

You held onto that hope as you folded clothes to be put away in the bedroom. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice movement outside as Wanderer approached the window on the second storey. Putting his face closer to the stained glass, your figure was rendered in an orange hue as he peered in. He tapped against the window with a finger.

You jumped with a yelp, turning towards the source of the disruption.

Honestly, you would have welcomed his arrival more warmly if the sight before you wasn’t so unexpected. Now, you couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh. Your boyfriend was hovering outside your bedroom window, staring at you like a rain-soaked cat waiting to be let inside.

You hurried towards the window, but didn’t reach out to open it just yet. Instead, you placed your hands on your hips, cocking your head to the side.

“We have a front door for a reason, you know.”

Even though your voice was muffled, he heard how you spoke in a sing-song manner.

“Well, I’m not at the front door now, am I?” He replied, matter-of-factly. “Mind opening up?”

Gesturing for him to step away a little, you unlatched the window and swung the glass outwards. Cool air immediately washed over your face, tickling your skin. He could hear the mild offense in your voice crystal clear now,

“I cannot believe this is how I’m being greeted after such a sudden departure-“

Your sentence cut off short as the wind got knocked out you.

Your boyfriend crashing into you mid-flight was a quick way to shut you up.

The force caused you to stumble back, falling to sit on the edge of the bed. Only then did the surprise settle in at what he was doing.

Wanderer had you in a tight hug.

Somewhat awkwardly, he was half-sitting in your lap, half-sitting on the bed. Shaking out of your stupor, you encircled your arms around his shoulders. Wanderer let his body fall limp, his feet now on solid ground. He buried his face in your neck.

“A-are you-”

“Don’t say a single word.” He said, voice low in warning. Though, the threat had little weight behind it with how he nuzzled into the hug.

Wanderer didn’t need to breathe to survive, but he had learned to inhale and exhale largely so that others wouldn’t gawk at him for his lack of breathing (he had honestly stopped doing it because of how bothersome it was to keep such a façade. However, after some convincing from Nahida about the necessity to get along with his peers, he begrudgingly adopted the habit once again). For you, it served another purpose. Clearly something or someone had riled him up earlier because his breathing had initially been huffed and short. Now, as he settled against your body, you felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, breaths slow and intentional.

“It’s only been 2 days, Kuni,” you pointed out with a soft chuckle.

His violet hair tickled your skin as he shifted his head, propping his chin up on your shoulder. Perhaps it was intentional that he kept his face out of your line of sight.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “I know.”

“Then why are you acting like you haven’t seen me in months?”

Wanderer scoffed loudly. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

It was a shame you couldn’t see his face, for the way he closed his eyes and scrunched his nose in embarrassment at his own clinginess would’ve given you weeks of material to poke fun at him for.

“I think you do because I haven’t the faintest idea why you’re acting like this.”

There was no way he was falling for the fake, sugary innocence in your tone. You were an unstoppable force and he an immovable object. He chose to remain silent as you continued,

“Oh well, I guess I should go and finish folding these clothes if it’s nothing important.”

Abruptly, you removed your arms from him and went to stand. However, the grasp Wanderer had around your waist meant you could barely even move. Even bending over proved to be fruitless for you.

“Those chores can wait,” he muttered, interlocking his fingers together to hold you in place.

Despite knowing that you were messing with him, a small part of him was irritated that you even considered putting such a menial task above him.

You giggled at how touchy he was being. Your boyfriend could hardly come up with a word of affection without looking like he was going to combust, but would stop at nothing at the chance to hold you. You raised a hand to pat his head, smoothing his hair down. Every grievance he had over the past 2 days melted away with each pass of your hand. Archons, he even started to feel like he went a bit too harsh on Mir.

“Don’t worry,” Wanderer could hear the smile on your face as you began gently combing his hair between your fingertips. “I missed you too.”

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[vividxpages]

༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚. "the craving" - Jace Velaryon x f!Reader༉‧₊˚🤍❀༉‧₊˚.

words: 6300

summary: after a long day of scouting together, your betrothed Jacaerys and you are forced to seek shelter at an inn when a storm is raging outside. The only "problem"; there is only one, tiny bed for the two of you.

warnings: sexual tension, they're both virgins, but the Targaryen ancestors wrote a kamasutra for future generations and Jace has read it ;) , only one bed trope, cuddling/spooning, sexual content (making out, vaginal fingering, a little bit of dirty talk from Jace), aftercare

a/n: I had a lot of fun writing this story and it's my longest one for Jace so far, hope you like it! <3 I also have some ideas for a potential part 2 👀....

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃

It was a rare occurrence for you, being chosen by the Queen to scout for the day, patrolling the sky and the lands underneath it from a safe distance. 

You were a princess of Dragonstone, but you were also a dragonrider, even if you were still young and an honor like this filled you with undeniable pride.

It was an even rarer occurrence that she allowed Jacaerys to join you.

Your recent betrothal to the prince had been a blessing, making your strong bond of friendship weave itself only tighter, but it also had brought up feelings you'd thought you simply could've brushed aside before.

Jace had gotten more...protective of you, more tender and you could not help but feel yourself being drawn to him too, longing for the mornings spent together at breakfast after saying goodnight to each other on your doorstep the night before.

Of course, there were rules, things to do when courting and things to avoid, such as sharing a room before marriage and the things that could happen in said room…

But you were never the one to follow rules lightly and weren't you going to be married anyways? All you needed was a little push until you'd surrender your heart and your body to Jacaerys...

And somehow, you had a feeling you weren't alone with these forbidden desires.

Today had been mostly spent in the sky, flying together as if you had never done something else. You were a unit, always knowing where the other was and what they did and it seemed like your dragons were delighted as well by the recent development of your planned union. 

You couldn't help but laugh with the wind when they playfully snapped at each other, both making little besotted growls from time to time, like Jace and you were interrupting a date.

Everything would've been alright if the storm hadn't moved into your direction.

It was getting darker and darker and both of you couldn't make your dragons move any faster, since they were young just as you and Jace were. Situations like this couldn't exactly be trained beforehand.

When the rain hit you, your mood dropped instantly.

"It's getting late!" You heard Jacaerys' familiar voice calling over to you through the wind and rain. "The weather isn't going to get any better and we are too far away from Dragonstone to make it back before midnight. We have to find a place to spend the night, it's no use."

You knew he could see the frustration on your face, worrying what your people back in the safety of Dragonstone's walls would think if the future of a more hopeful realm did not return as punctually as expected.

"She's going to be worried out of your mind for you." You called back, but the rain in front of you was blurring your vision and you kept pushing your hair out of your face.

Vermax let out a displeased growl as thunder rolled through the clouds. Jace squinted his eyes to make you out next to him, the storm getting stronger and stronger by the minute. "I'm not going to let us get struck by lightning! There's a merchant route right under us, if I remember it right. We land, now."

You reluctantly tugged the reigns of your dragon tighter around your fists and steered her down, following Jace and Vermax through the clouds as they descended. You couldn't argue with him, but a stop in an unknown region was risky. Even if you two were in the company of your dragons.

By the time you had landed in a clearing of the forest Jace had spotted from up above, your clothes were dripping wet on the ground.

Climbing down your dragon's back, you couldn't help but snort as Vermax immediately seeked shelter underneath the massive pine trees from the weather, his rider fondly shaking his head at his companion. 

As you approached, Jace sighed and squinted up into the sky above you. "I know you dislike this, as I do. But I'm not taking a risk. It's better to wait the night instead of getting attacked in a thunderstorm, don't you agree?"

"Yes…" You looked at him, still a little conflicted. "But we can only hope our people at Dragonstone agree with you as well."

Jace smiled at you, raising both his hands in defense. Like this, eyes bright and wet hair curling around his already beautiful face, he was a vision, making you permanently weak in the knees. "They will agree, because I am protecting the princess, my betrothed, as you are protecting yours."

Yours.

You involuntarily shuddered, the promise of being married to him one day never tiring of sending lightning through you.

While you understood the Queen's choice to wait with marrying you because of the war, you were growing tired of being denied what you craved so badly; not the ring on your finger - a beautiful thing you knew Jace had already commissioned to being forged, one of Vermax' scales sitting in its silver center - but the boy you were dreaming about at night, visiting you in the quietness of Dragonstone, sliding underneath your warm covers to-

"Everything alright?" Jace had stepped to your side, one hand on your shoulder. 

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "We should stop and rest at the first place we can find."

The traveler's road was empty and no one noticed the two of you stepping out of the forest and making your way over to the first building you saw, a small inn with its windows alight from the inside.

You shivered at the thought of a warm fire and wrinkled your nose at your clammy leathers. On top of it, your belly growled and Jacaerys and you shared a look.

A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Don't worry, I'll find you something to eat even if I have to hunt it myself tonight."

You blushed, his words always managing to touch something deep within you.

Jace and you entered the inn, immediately enveloped by its delicious warmth and sociability. As Prince and Princess, you were not used to a civility like this and for a moment, you wondered what it'd be like to live like this, leading a simple life with Jace where no one would know you and you could do whatever you pleased. What a dangerous thought this was...

Just before you and him reached the small reception counter of the inn, Jace placed one of his gloved hands on your lower back, a secure and telling gesture that made your skin underneath the riding leathers burn pleasantly.

"Good evening." He spoke confidently. "My wife and I are looking for a place to stay for the night. The storm has caught us off guard on the road."

The innkeeper looked at you and although you knew he didn't want to hear it, you silently said a prayer of gratitude for Jace's beautiful dark hair and eyes. If he'd have silver hair, all could be lost, depending on the opinion of the inn's staff on this ongoing war.

You tugged your cloak tighter around you, hiding the riding leathers on your body, and looked back calmly. You forced your bottom lip to wobble as if you only now remembered the cold haunting your bones. How fast could you make your way back to the forest and your dragons before the whole house was up on their feet for two Targaryens in its midst?

"It caught us off guard alright as well, good sir." The innkeeper said goodnaturedly after a moment and you sighed on the inside. "The taproom is bursting at the seams tonight. I can only offer a single room, but I'm sure it's no problem for two young lovebirds like you. Dinner will be served for you, too, if you require it."

Jace swallowed thickly, not meeting your gaze at the prospect of a tiny room for the two of you. 

So far, your betrothal had consisted of courting each other quietly and sweetly, the long promised wedding pushed back again and again, much to your frustration. To share a room with Jace before you were married - it sent a shiver down your spine and you couldn't say it was a bad one.

"We require it. And thank you for the room. We will pay in advance, of course." Jace produced a small sack of coins from his cloak and you stepped aside and peeked into the full taproom, trying to calm your racing heart.

When he was done, Jacaerys stepped up to you and smiled encouragingly, although you could see through him instantly and saw the same nervousness possessing you. This was no place for you two and yet here you were.

"Dinner, my lady?" Jace asked under his breath and with a snort, you let yourself be led into the taproom, carefully avoiding any curious eyes on you as you found a quiet corner in the far back where hopefully no one would disturb you or have questions. 

Quickly, two plates with bread, cheese and tomatoes were brought to your table and Jacaerys and you began to eat, tense in your wariness for your surroundings but comfortable in each other's presence. 

He politely declined the waitress's offer of beer, but made her bring you a pitcher of clear water, the day spent underneath the sun having dried out your bodies like nothing else.

After a while - you were still munching on your bread and Jace looked about to be finished - he took a few of his tomatoes and placed them on your plate, a silent encouragement.

"Thank you." You said quietly and ate them too while he kept watch, over you and the room behind you. But in all the hustle going on in there, no one had time or interest for a young couple on the road and soon, your plates were empty and you retreated upstairs and down the narrow corridor.

The last door was yours.

Your eyes widened shortly as you took in your room for the night. There was a window where rain splattered against the glass, a small table with a chair and a bed, although it could barely be called that if you thought of your enormous bed at Dragonstone.

Beside you, you could feel Jace pausing as he locked the door, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the tiny bed in the corner of the room. If only one of you could fit, it'd be a miracle and the floor was in no condition to be slept on.

You took off your cloak and threw it over the chair, opening your mouth to speak just as Jace did.

"I'm taking the floor." He declared and you wanted to roll your eyes and also kiss him for his selflessness.

"You will not sleep on this floor, Jace." You argued and as you wrung out your damp hair, the last droplets of water fell onto the boards, blooming in the dust covering them. 

Jace stayed silent for a moment, wrapping a cloth from within his cloak around the doorknob and tying a tight knot, so you wouldn't be disturbed by any unpleasant visitors tonight.

"Please don't be ridiculous now." You tried again, softer this time. "You had a long flight today, too. We slept side by side when we were kids sometimes, remember? We'd fall asleep in the gardens of King's Landing while we watched the clouds, dreaming of riding our dragons someday."

"But we are not kids anymore." Jacaerys said quietly.

No, you weren't. 

And as you looked at him, reaching behind himself to unclasp his cloak, his dark curls still framing his serious face, you knew there was not an ounce of childlike innocence in you when it came to him.

"And I-" He interrupted himself as his cloak joined yours on the chair and you did not step back, only shuffling closer to rest your hand on his nape. 

What had gotten into you? This boldness, it was dangerous and misplaced and- very much exciting.

Jace slowly looked at you, his dark eyes like burning embers, bringing the heat to your cheek you so desperately needed.

"I'm afraid I cannot control myself around you, princess." He confessed hoarsely and for a moment you thought the wooden floor underneath you had turned into water and you were trying to dance on top of it, unsteady.

You exhaled shakingly, tongue tied in your shock at his confession, but a burning heat swirling pleased in your stomach. 

After a moment, he forced himself to tear himself away from you and cleared his throat. "I mean this in the most chivalrous manner, but I think we should take off our leathers if we don't want to be sick in two days."

You agreed and the two of you turned away from each other, the spell broken.

You faced the wall by the bed as you reached behind yourself, your fingers fumbling with the laces of your uniform. Whoever had invented dragonrider clothes had not intended them to be taken off without the help of half a dozen maids.

Your movements were clumsy and unpracticed, used to getting attended to by your maids for these kinds of things, preferably followed by a hot bath after a long flight.

But now, you were helpless and frustration grew quickly in you until you tilted your head back and let out a tired sigh.

"Jace?" You spoke over your shoulder and heard shuffling. 

"Yes?" 

"I...I can't take them off myself." You admitted, risking a look behind you to see his leather uniform draped over the table, only thin linen pants and a matching top remaining on him. You had never seen him like this, never could've imagined what was laying underneath his princely attires. He looked...innocent, like a boy with big eyes as he watched you. Biting your lip, you added: "Could you help me, at least with my laces?"

"Of course." He breathed and stepped closer as you turned around again, holding yourself completely still as you felt his warmth radiating against your back.

Suddenly, his hand was in your hair, brushing in awe over the wavy strands. "Can I…"

"Yes." You breathed, your nerves fluttering. "Please."

You shuddered as he carefully brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your tightly laced back to him.

Then, with surprisingly skillful fingers, he began to swiftly unlace you, his hands dancing over your spine and making their way down your back.

You were sure neither of you was breathing, your mind growing a bit foggy as you let him attend you like this, the task of a maid replaced by the care of your betrothed.

"All done." He whispered after a while and you were snapped out of your dreamy thoughts. You could already breathe more lightly as the riding leather dangled down on your sides, the front only held up now by your hands on your chest.

"Thank you." You whispered back. What would happen if you turned around now and faced him? Were you too far gone already or would you be able to remember yourself before it was too late?

"I'll light some candles and I...I won't look." Jace said flustered and turned away again, giving you as much privacy as he could as he busied himself with the unlit candles by the table.

Quickly, you slid out of the rest of your uniform until only the thin dress you wore underneath remained. With only these undergarments on you, you almost tripped as you slipped under the covers of the bed and pulled them all up to your chin.

The cold rushed back into you tenfold and you pressed your lips together to keep your teeth from clattering. 

Silently, you watched as Jace lit the last candle and checked the doorknob for one last time to make sure you were safe for the night.

When there was nothing to be done about the state of the room anymore, he met your gaze and asked one more time: "Are you sure?"

I'm afraid I cannot control myself around you…

You nodded, shuffling to the wall as far as you could. There was barely space left for another person, even like this. "Yes. We both need rest."

It seemed like your shivering only intensified as you felt his weight dip on the mattress, joining you as carefully as he could without bumping his knee into your side.

When he was settled, on his slim back while you laid on your side, facing away from him to hide your burning face, he drew the blanket over the two of you, trapping you in for a tight fit and combined warmth, hopefully.

The silence in the room was thick, loaded by something you could not name yet. 

"Try to sleep." Jace whispered to you in the darkness. "Tomorrow, at sunrise, we'll take flight."

You tried your best, you really did. 

But there was no use, not when he was laying so close to you. You were too aware of him, too overstimulated by the mere thought of his body so close to yours, his body heat radiating off of him while you still missed your own.

You were sure the whole mattress was shaking with your quivering, your lips blue and limbs clammy from the cold that had soaked into you on dragonback. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed for a slumber that wouldn't come. 

Jacaerys couldn't bear it anymore.

Seeing you, feeling you shiver so pitifully, he had to put an end to it. It was what a good husband would do.

"Princess…" He whispered into the darkness and you tensed. "You're freezing. If you'd let me...I want to help."

"Help?" You echoed, looking over your shoulder. Like this, you could only make out his eyes in the dark, his silhouette tempting and comforting at once.

Jace swallowed thickly, shuffling until he laid on his side and could support his head with his hand. "If we'd be...closer, I could warm you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, his boldness surprising both you and himself. As scandalous as it was, you already felt yourself drawn to him, your cold bones screaming yes, yes, yes.

"If I won't inconvenience you." You murmured shyly. "I'm shaking like a leaf."

"I'll do my best to change that." Jace promised dutifully, darkly, and shuffled even closer.

Now, you were sure your heart was going to give out. 

Underneath the blanket you shared, Jace pulled you to him, his arm sneaking around your waist as your back met his chest.

You sighed, a small sound of relief as the warmth of him enveloped you and you could feel it also leaving his chest, as if you were two pieces melting together into one.

It was a lover's embrace, there was no doubt about it, but the line between you had already been blurred tonight, ever since he had called you his wife downstairs.

It should've surprised you more, how well your bodies fitted together, how natural the curve of your spine found its place against his lean torso. With his arm securely around you, making sure you'd stay connected, you were not sure if you could not breathe anymore or were finally able to.

"Is this good?" He asked you quietly after some time, your heads now sharing a pillow, a space, an embrace.

No. You needed more.

"Yeah...you are really warm." You breathed out and he chuckled and gods, you could feel the sound against you and thought nothing about this was real, not the inn, not tonight, certainly not him.

You shifted in his embrace, trying to get a little more comfortable when he suddenly let out a low hiss, your bum brushing against-

Oh.

Oh.

You wanted to combust.

You wanted to turn around and kiss him stupid. You wanted to do everything and yet, you were frozen in place, hotness rushing through you at the thought that your prince had gotten aroused while he laid with you like this.

"'m sorry…" He whispered near your ear and in front of your inner eye, you saw his eyes closing in defeat, having given in so quickly to his carnal desires.

You were about to be a very bad betrothed.

Innocently, you moved back against him and he choked on his breath, his mouth now hovering over your nape, the damp hair you wished to be out of your way now to feel him better.

Your hand rested on his forearm around you  and you traveled your fingertips upwards, brushing over his knuckles until you could entwine your fingers, squeezing him reassuringly.

"Princess...we can't." You wanted to chuckle at his unconvinced tone, an unfamiliar strain to his voice like he was trying his best and most to hold himself back from giving in to you.

"We can." You whispered back, kissing his hand in yours and hearing him sigh behind you. "I want you so badly, I feel like I'm dying."

It was too much, to hear those same words he only dared to think in his mind, it shattered the last bit of self control Jacaerys could muster up. He had been aroused ever since he helped you undress, the dreams that usually had him waking up in a sweat in his chambers at Dragonstone now coming true right in front of him.

"Please, Jace." You added with a sigh, pushing back against him. "Give in, please."

He surged forward, his lips making contact with your neck and setting you aflame.

You let out a low moan, the sight of the wall disappearing in front of you as you closed your eyes blissfully, focused only on the feel of Jacaerys lapping at your neck.

It was like he tasted something exquisite and unique, taking his time as he brushed your hair aside, his other hand delicately holding your jaw as he suckled the sensitive spot underneath your ear, making you twitch back in surprise against the outline of his hard cock.

He stifled a groan, something final snapping in him and he turned your head, his finger swiping over your chin and cheek as you both stared at each other, pupils gone wide and dark with desire.

"May I kiss you?" He asked huskily and you nodded quickly, your hand finding its way into his curls, tugging him closer until his hot breath grazed your bottom lip.

"Yes." You let out breathlessly. "Kiss me, please, I-"

He closed the distance between you, engulfing your mouth in a hot, desperate kiss, both of your lust and longing for each other too grand to think clearly anymore.

Still gently holding your jaw and you in his arms, he kissed you passionately, his lips moving slow and relishing against yours. You sighed happily against him, your fingers tightening their hold on his curls and making him groan, his free hand spreading itself out on your stomach.

Heat sloshed through you as your tongues danced, the kiss so much more than what you'd ever could've dreamed of. You never wanted to stop again.

His embrace was possessive, with not much room for you to do anything else but give yourself over to him, caged between the wall and his lean body.

You wanted to drown in his kisses, never to be seen again.

When the air in your lungs got thinner, making you lightheaded, the two of you pulled apart, panting and staring at each other with kiss-bruised lips.

Your hand fell over his own on your stomach, the fabric of your undergarment dress worthy to you of being burned in the heat of the moment.

"Can I touch you?" Jace gasped into your ear, almost a plea.

You nodded frantically, but he shook his head, his curls brushing against your cheek. "I need to hear it from you, love."

Gods, you were truly going to die by his tender hands.

"Yes…" You hissed, your mind already drunk on him. "I want you to touch me, Jace, I need it so badly."

You ground your bum back against him and Jace released a moan, the sound going right into your core, where wetness was pooling between your thighs and making a mess of you.

He peppered kisses on your cheek and jaw, relishing the way your back arched against him as his hand dove underneath the blanket and fumbled with the seams of your gown, tugging up the fabric as he went.

His hand slid over your naked leg, the skin still a little cold and covered in goosebumps he hoped were his doing. Up and up he went and you were panting by now, mind and body controlled by arousal for him, just for him.

Resting a gentle hand on your inner thigh, he spread your legs open, just a little, and kissed you once again, so he could feel the exact moment you'd-

"Ah-" You gasped in his mouth as his fingertips touched your clit and it shouldn't have been enough, you wanted so much more, but you already felt like you were able to find release from just this.

"Gods, you're driving me insane." He groaned, burying his face in your neck and suckling on it as he slowly began to rub circles onto you, his hand dipping down further to gather more of your wetness on his fingers. 

You shuddered at the sensation of his hand between your legs and then you keened as he obscenely spread your own juices over your clit, swirling his finger over the aching bundle of nerves.

"Fuck…" You whispered, your mouth falling open as he started a careful rhythm, letting you adjust to the sensation of having your clit pampered like this, easy circles and slight rubs.

Laying on your side only seemed to heighten your senses.

Your quivering legs tangled, bodies firmly pressed together, his hands around you like vines protecting a precious secret. You did not know anymore if you were tense or melting as he played with you, experimenting with the direction his fingers could go, gently tapping against your sensitive flesh which made you see stars...

And of course, your thighs - becoming sticky with your own juices, his finger being joined by another one and carefully massaging your most intimate part. With every round they went on you, your grasp on control slipped a little more and soon, you were a writhing mess, bucking your hips against Jace's hand as he continued to kiss your neck and relished the delicious little sounds you made because of him.

"You're so wet." He murmured, in awe of you and your body and you moaned, slumping against his back as he gently plucked on your clit, shiver after shiver running through you and ruining you. "I only dreamed of you like this, princess. You are a sight to behold."

You wanted to say something, anything, but it seemed like your brain had melted, mewling as he cupped your whole core and slowly shook his hand, the friction intensifying only more as vibrations were sent through your pussy.

"Where did you learn all this?" You asked breathlessly and he chuckled, blushing and nuzzling your sweaty neck lovingly as he dipped his fingers lower, almost where you needed him the most.

"The library at Dragonstone can be very...educational. On many different topics." He murmured melodically and you were still, awaiting, as he pushed your undergarments up more, his hand drifting up over your stomach and towards your chest. "Some of the books our ancestors kept there are very...interesting to read. Diaries of fiery encounters and instructions on love making. I had to resist taking notes when I read some of those passages, on how to please women when I could only picture you in my head."

A guttural, broken moan left you when he mouthed at your neck, licking over your exposed throat.

It distracted you just enough that he nearly sent you into an early release as his wet, glistening thumb circled around one of your rosy buds before he raised the same finger to his lips and had a taste.

You both groaned in union, your thighs squeezing together as you stared at him, his own eyes closed in bliss at the taste of you. Just as he had imagined…like honeydew.

He slid his hand underneath your neck so you could rest your head on his strong arm, the same hand coming down to cup one of your aching tits. Like in everything else; you were perfect for each other here. His hand had just the right size for you.

You eagerly spread your legs again as his other hand snaked down your body again, both his and your remaining clothes drenched by sweat, the room smelling of sex.

"I'm dying to know how you feel around my fingers, princess." He confessed and you bit your lip, trying to fight the urge to cross your eyes as his fingers ghosted over your wet clit again; and losing. "Can I? Can I have you like this, my love?"

What a dirty tongue your betrothed had…

If your mind had been any clearer and not as fucked out, you would've asked him if he also learned that in his books, but that was a conversation for another day.

"Yes." You gasped instead, bucking once again against his hand over you, cupping your core and squeezing your clit between two of his digits, making you moan brokenly. "Please, Jace, I need you to fuck me, please, fuck me-"

You knew he couldn't, you both couldn't, at least this much of both your composures remained. But there were other ways to find release and apparently, your sweet betrothed was an expert at executing them.

He raised himself a little, peeking over your shoulder so he could look at your heated face, rosy cheek and wet, parted lips just for him. Jace pulled you into a kiss, sweet and slow this time and you moaned right into his mouth at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks and you were overwhelmed in the best possible way as Jace's finger slid through your juices once again before he entered you.

You could've sworn you heard his and your dragon roar triumphantly in the distance as he slid his finger into your drenched core, your moan loud enough to go beyond the walls of your room and raise questions - or brows at such distasteful actions behind closed doors. If they only knew.

He groaned at how tightly you squeezed his single digit, fantasizing how you'd feel around his cock. Jace twitched against your back and you held him only tighter, your hot walls eager to let him in. 

You were so wet, it was a slippery little affair and as he let you adjust, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your clit, his rhythm reflected in the way your core clenched up deliciously.

You locked eyes with him, half-lidded and ready to die a sweet death at his hands, begging him softly: "You can move. It's okay, you won't hurt me." 

It was like you were playing your wedding night and he let out a shuddering breath, needing to stay in control before he threw it out of the window and deflowered you right here, in a bed and place that wasn't worthy of you. He'd never forgive himself if he would not make it special.

Slowly, he pushed forward and further into your heat, his finger quickly becoming wet and slippery and covered in you.

You let out a satisfied sigh, letting yourself be kissed as he oh so gently began to build up an easy rhythm, not brave enough yet to sink to the knuckle into you, but feeding your soaked cunt more and more of him, his mind alert to spot any discomfort in you and ready to stop and wait for you.

But you had wanted him for far too long to need any more caution from him.

And the sounds - gods, the sounds were driving you insane. You were so wet, your pussy was making slurping sounds at the intrusion of his finger and you bit your lip blissfully when he finally found his pace, light and easy on you, but no less hot and intense.

Only the rain splattering against the windows and your little moans and gasps could be heard as he fingered you gently, the pads of his finger dragging over your walls and trying to find the one tiny spot he had read about, enough to make a woman lose her mind and all final restraints if done right.

You were mewling, gripping his arm over your chest tightly and occasionally biting his skin softly to stop you from being too loud. 

"You are so beautiful." He slurred against your temple, keeping his eyes only on you to capture every one of your reactions and keep it in his mind.

You moaned wantonly, maybe because of the praise or because his thumb dragged over your pulsing clit, he didn't know. But oh, how he wanted to find out.

For just a moment, he stilled his movements and you looked at him with wide eyes, your hips trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, but him not letting you. 

Jace watched you closely, quickly kissing your quivering lips before his voice dropped low and he murmured: "Your cunt feels so good around my fingers, my love. You're squeezing me so tightly, ñuha jorrāeliarzy, you are the most beautiful thing in the whole realm and all mine."

"Yours." You echoed and whimpered, solely because of his words.

He couldn't help but smile besottedly, storing the effect of his words on you away for another time and  resuming to fingering you gently. 

Soon, after you whispered you were ready for one more, two of his fingers were now softly pumping in and out of you and you knew you could not last much longer under his sweet tormention.

Your hips had begun to move on their own and he watched you with both fascination and love as you rode on his fingers, your eyes closed and your lovely mouth opened in the sweetest o-shape. 

If he'd still now, he knew you'd continue to fuck yourself on him and god, how he wanted to see it, but there was still one ace up his sleeve and he couldn't wait any longer to try it.

He crooked both his fingers upwards and you tensed in his arms, moaning into his arm and losing yourself almost completely as he touched a part of you you didn't even know existed.

"Jacaerys, gods, I-" You whimpered as the pads of his fingers rubbed against that rough little spot in you, your hips twitching uncontrollably.

"Let go for me, princess." He encouraged you, kissing your cheek and nuzzling his face against yours sweetly. "I can feel you dripping around me, your perfect cunt weeping for me…"

You were floating, only held back by Jacaerys' arms around you, playing your body like a delicate instrument as one hand played with your tit while the other still rubbed against your sweet spot, eager to bring you to release.

His thumb came back onto your clit and your hips arched, pressing yourself forward against his sticky hand as he rubbed delicious circles on you.

"Come for me, my love, I need to see, need to feel you." He coaxed you further, smiling against your neck and adding in a whisper: "Let go for me, my sweet wife."

That was it.

You exploded, coming hard around his fingers, whimpering pitifully as tears of pleasure and overwhelm escaped your eyes. 

You rode your high, your hips helplessly bucking against Jacaerys as he kissed your tears away, softly talking you through it and soothing you down with gentle hands from a peak you had no idea how to recover from…

Jace watched you closely, fascinated and so, so in love, as he slowly slipped his fingers out of you, an obscene string connecting them to your wetness he could not see.

To make sure you would not feel too empty, his hand cupped your mound, keeping you warm and secure as little aftershocks ran through you and you were panting and peppering little kisses on his arm, clinging to him with all your might.

"You were so good…" Jace whispered lovingly, kissing whatever he could reach of you, his body keeping you warm and sated in the aftermath of both your actions. "So, so beautiful…"

You hummed, tired and thoroughly happy as you slowly calmed down, relishing the feeling of his warm hand still on you, carefully avoiding your spent parts so you wouldn't feel overstimulated.

Exhaustion clung to your bones, a mixture of the long day on dragonback and the oblivion of good sex, but you still felt Jacaerys hard against your back. He had not yet found his release and you were eager to give it to him.

You tried to turn around, to reach down between you and touch him, but he was not having it.

"Sh sh, this was only about you, my love." He shushed you, his strong arms efficiently stopping you from wriggling against him. He soothed his hands over your sides and kissed your temple. "When I take you to bed properly, it will be at Dragonstone where I can take care of you as a loving husband should."

You shivered at the promise, without any coldness left in your veins.

He smiled against your cheek, his fingers lightly drawing circles onto your hip bone as he leaned closer and whispered into your ear: "And then, I'm going to take my time with you, princess, learning how you taste on my tongue...ravishing that sweet little cunt of yours…"

Your core deliciously clenched up at the thought, but you were also sleepy, your eyelids already betraying your intentions as they drooped. You snuggled yourself closer against Jacaerys, stifling a yawn.

"Don't worry, we'll have all the time in the world…" Jace lulled you closer to sleep, the sweet nothings he whispered to you being like a warm blanket draping itself over you.

"Jacaerys…" You mumbled, feeling your grasp on staying awake slip further as his hands ran softly over you, making your mind hazy and blank. "Thank you...I- I'm very warm now…"

He laughed quietly, his chest blooming with happiness as he felt your body slump against his. 

Jace closed his own eyes, resting his chin on top of your head and holding you against him protectively. He was the luckiest prince of the realm tonight and forever if he only had you.

And you, his princess, were warm and sated and in the embrace of the one you belonged to.

And suddenly, as you drifted off into a long and peaceful slumber, flying back to Dragonstone in the morning did not look so dreadful anymore...

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃

my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[so-i-did-this-thing]

How it's going as a trans person in Florida: Planned Parenthood, 26Health, and Spektrum Health have announced they have paused all gender affirming care.

To recap, DeSantis signed several anti-trans bills into law this week. Care is banned for minors, care is all but banned for adults, Don't Say Gay has been extended, children can be kidnapped from affirming parents by non-affirming family, and there is a bathroom bill that subjects trans folks to arrest for using government owned facilities, such as those in courthouses, airports, many stadiums and parks.

The adult effective ban was felt immediately. The main elements are:

signing at every visit an in-person informed consent form created by the state

all care come from physicians instead of nurse practitioners

no telemed for gender-affirming care

Currently, it is unknown if existing HRT prescriptions written by NPs will be honored by pharmacies. I personally know one person who was able to pick up testosterone yesterday, but I have also read many reports of folks being denied. I myself don't have a refill ready for another 10 days and will report back after I try my own pickup.

What's additionally dangerous is those of us, myself included, who get non-HRT prescriptions from our gender clinics now face the uncertainty of continuing of *all* of our medical care. Our health clinics are at risk of shuttering permanently as they lose major income, and many of us will lose STD meds, depression meds, heart meds, etc, etc.

When we say "this will kill us," it goes beyond suicide risk from forced detransition.

"But you can still get HRT from a physician."

So many suck or are outright hostile and the demand outstrips the supply. Before I found my NP-run clinic, one physician just decided to not call in my Rx, another was so shit at reading lab results, he thought I had hepatitis, and the third I had to threaten to kick in the teeth for trying to force too large a speculum in me.

Also, the state-required consent form has not been finalized and distributed yet, so at this point, everything has pretty much ground to a halt.

It was estimated that 80% of trans adults would lose their healthcare because of how many use providers like Planned Parenthood, but the impact seems even greater now.

"You can get your non-gender care elsewhere still."

DeSantis recently signed a bill that allows healthcare professionals to discriminate against trans people.

Sure, we can try to find care elsewhere, but it will be a slow and expensive process, with no guarantees. It took me over 20 years to get my heart condition treated because of transphobic doctors.

What can I do as a trans Floridian?

Stay in communication with your clinic - many are working on getting physicians added to the roster to prescribe HRT. Lawsuits are being filed and it's possible the changes to adult care can be rolled back.

Continue to try to pick up your meds, but begin looking for care elsewhere, though. Inside and outside the state.

Remember that while telemed for gender affirming care has been banned, you can still cross state lines for care. See Erin's map of informed consent clinics.

Many people will turn to DIY, but be sure you are aware of the risks here, especially if on testosterone, which is a controlled substance.

What should I be worried about next as a trans Floridian?

I worry about the following next steps towards genocide:

Banning getting care out of state. This is from the anti-abortion playbook. They will likely start with kids again, but we've seen how quickly adult care gets axed.

Being declared mentally incompetent or a risk in some way. This could be anything from being barred from gun ownership to not being allowed to work for the government.

Being declared a de facto predator. This has already happened with the latest bathroom law (cis people can eject trans people from government owned single-gender facilities, with arrest as a penalty), so watch out for it being applied to privately-owned facilities. Watch for discussions of official lists of trans people.

Gender presentation enforcement laws, essentially banning "cross dressing". Laws that block or rollback documentation changes.

These all have historic precedence and are huge "I'm in danger" red flags.

What can I do as a cis person?

Amplify all this news. Talk frankly about how this is genocide. And donate what you can to trans mutual aid campaigns so people can travel to get healthcare or even leave the state.

Here's some articles to get started on building awareness:

Take care, everyone, of yourself and each other.

[wheneclipsefalls]

Little Gift - Latch

Neteyam photo by @cinetrix

Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha

Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.

A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist

You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.

Everything is perfect. 

Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures. 

The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.

You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out. 

His reward for all that he has had to endure. 

Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying. 

He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort. 

His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal. 

He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him. 

The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit. 

It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses. 

Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair. 

It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are. 

All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.

Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you. 

His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap. 

Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy. 

This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know. 

It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.

Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.

Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have. 

Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek. 

“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”

It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter. 

Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both. 

Later, he reminds himself.  

The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily. 

“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy. 

The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours. 

“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo���ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back. 

“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it. 

“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls. 

“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.” 

“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.” 

“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep. 

“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale. 

“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower. 

“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.” 

“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn. 

“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.” 

It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience. 

“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan. 

“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”

Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner. 

“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow. 

“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight. 

He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.

Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt. 

A sharp smirk cuts into his features. 

For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs. 

Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more. 

The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running. 

The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths. 

And then your breathing is cut all together. 

The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt. 

Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels. 

“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.” 

You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability. 

You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again. 

They are closer this time.

“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”

A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs. 

“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection. 

“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air. 

“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards. 

“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”

A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip. 

He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow. 

“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out. 

Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger. 

Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest. 

Neteyam keeps it sheathed. 

“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool. 

“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!” 

“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.” 

You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm. 

“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures. 

“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”

“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only  by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”

It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves. 

Poor thing, what would you do without him?

“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.

“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang  [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.

From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.

What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises. 

They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer. 

The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear. 

You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights. 

The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to. 

He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames. 

He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible. 

About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention. 

However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole. 

Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs. 

Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else. 

Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.

“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor. 

His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers. 

“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button. 

“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee. 

No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets. 

“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own. 

One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair. 

“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire. 

“Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth. 

“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place. 

Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment. 

It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away. 

“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.

Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing. 

For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.

Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop. 

Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him. 

It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of. 

He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms. 

You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning. 

And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle. 

A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied. 

It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.

Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time. 

The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt. 

“Did I say you could do that?” 

You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips. 

“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?” 

You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same. 

“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.” 

Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.

Just in the way only he can deliver. 

Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations. 

You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you. 

“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.

“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.

“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”

Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him. 

“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.” 

Your alarm flares up once more. 

“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”

A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish. 

A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his. 

“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.” 

With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.

The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out. 

“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor. 

But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys. 

The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more. 

However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the  way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload. 

The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place. 

Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly. 

“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.” 

 And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows. 

He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids. 

The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union. 

And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss. 

“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper. 

“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else. 

“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over. 

“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong. 

“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust. 

Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek. 

“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.

That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations. 

There’s another side to him too.

The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom. 

Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him. 

And now nothing is going to take it away from him.

Nothing will ever take you away.

Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper. 

“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts. 

“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark. 

You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.

Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible. 

And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly. 

“I want to sleep.”

Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.

“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again. 

It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same. 

“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.” 

Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out. 

Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat. 

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