#sustainable home clearing

[303junk]

[julesnichols]

My bedsheets that are larger than my bed stop flying off of it challenge!!!

[yandere-daze]

I thought it was high time that I finally wrote something for this man and this idea was stuck in my head for days. I hope you enjoy! <3

gn reader

2.3k words

cw yandere, obsessive behaviour, hypnotizing siren song, manipulation

Yandere! Siren! Sunday x Sailor! Reader

You weren´t supposed to be anything more than an easy prey. A human led astray by his enchanting tunes like any other, only to be torn apart once within reach.

You were a simple sailor sailing the deep waters of the ocean with your small crew. For what purpose? Sunday wasn´t quite sure and he didn´t really care to know. All he yearned for was sinking his claws into your vulnerable flesh as he dragged you to the bottom of the ocean.

You see, Sunday was a siren, a hunter in the image of a beautiful young man with grey hair and enchanting golden eyes. Were it not for his singing voice, a deep gaze into his radiant eyes would be enough to tempt any poor fool into his waiting arms. Yet his voice, oh his voice, its heavenly sound masking his dark intentions.

Within his lifetime, Sunday has lured many unfortunate sailors to their demise though, in recent times, fewer and fewer boats have delved through the waters he called his home. From what he had witnessed being whispered onboard, tales of cunning and vicious sirens roaming these waters have reached the mainland, causing many to steer clear and avoid this place.

This naturally annoyed Sunday, for the flesh of humans was what he sustained himself with. This fact only increased his determination when after quite a long while of waiting for a sign of life, a boat had finally lost its way into his domain again. Sunday had been hungry for way too long now, he couldn´t let this stroke of luck go to waste.

So certain that he would finally claim his prey again, he decided to first spy on the passengers of the boat before making his move. It was important for him to know the routines and habits of the sailors if he wanted to catch them alone to entice them to run into their doom.

As a siren, Sunday was more powerful than an average human but even he wouldn´t be able to fight off several sailors if he were to try and hypnotize someone in broad daylight. He couldn´t risk the crew becoming aware of his presence and leaving, he couldn´t go on without another meal again.

And so, he secretly started spying on the passengers of the small boat, staring at them from behind a rock and making sure to keep his tail concealed within the water. He watched everyone go along with their days on board the ship when something unexpected happened.

He saw you, stepping away from the rest of the crew to stand near the edge of the boat, a smile on your face as you let the sun shine on your face. Without even realizing it, you had stepped close to where Sunday had gone to hide. You were so close, almost within arm´s reach. For a moment, Sunday deliberated if this was his chance to strike.

With you separated from the rest of the crew like this, it would be a simple thing indeed to lure you into the waters where you would disappear forever.

But just as he thought this, he stopped in his tracks as he watched your carefree smile, suddenly becoming enchanted by the way the light of the sun rained upon your skin. For lack of a better word, your presence at that very moment was mesmerizing and Sunday felt warm inside as if the rays of the sun were descending on him instead.

And then, for a moment, Sunday almost felt his heart stop for then you opened your mouth and started, he almost couldn´t believe it, singing.

There you were, practically within the jaws of a predator, and letting your soul rejoice in song so carelessly. And yet, within your naivety, Sunday couldn´t help but feel at peace. Your song rang out across the lonely waters, unaware that your secret audience was becoming more and more enchanted by you by the second.

Your singing, Sunday couldn´t quite describe it. It sounded nothing like his own singing, which was beautiful and yet felt intrinsically wrong somehow. Your song was nothing like that. It might have not been as pretty or practiced as his own singing, but yet it managed to ring true within his heart. Your song felt earnest and real, untainted and uncorrupted by malice. Within seconds, you had captured his attention and heart, yet you were completely unaware that he was even present.

In an ironic twist of fate, Sunday felt himself being pulled towards you as if touched by magic, an ardent longing for you deep within his chest. It was as if you were the siren calling out to him, beckoning him closer like a lovesick sailor lost at sea, yet Sunday was sure that instead of a sudden demise, he would find true salvation within your arms. With the way you were holding out your arms, he could almost imagine you wrapping them around his body in a lover´s embrace, pulling him so close as if you would never let go of him again.

Because he knows that´s what he would do if he finally had his beloved in his arms. For only a fool would ever let go of the person they want to spend the rest of their life with. It filled him all at once, this desire to have you for his own, to make you his dearest mate.

You were radiant and joyful in a way he had never seen before and he couldn´t bear the thought of letting you slip away from him.

And from the desperate yearning he could so clearly hear in your song dedicated to just him, he knew that you must feel the same way. You were just waiting, begging to be taken away by him. Why else would you walk so close to him, all on your own and profess all of your feelings like this? Sunday now knew that this meeting was fated to happen and he would be sure not to waste it.

He had been watching you closely for the past few days along with the other sailors aboard the ship and he saw how the other crew members acted around you. He had thought nothing of it back then but now boiling jealousy filled his being as he remembered how chummy they had been acting with you. How they had laughed and joked around with you so easily, how they had thrown their arms around you and sang cheery tunes beneath the starry sky.

He especially detested that one scoundrel that had dared to kiss your cheek so invasively. How dare they treat you like this? How dare they lay their filthy hands on you when your beauty was meant for solely him to treasure? But not to worry, Sunday would finally bring you home and keep you safe.

He understood your surprise when he finally emerged from his hiding spot and started swimming towards you. You looked so pitiful with your body shaking and your eyes growing wide when you saw his shimmering white mermaid tail. You poor thing must be frightened out of your mind because of all these stories you were told about his kind but do not be afraid! Sunday would never hurt you like this.

You were special to him, you just needed to allow him to show you that. You backing away from the railing, backing away from him, just wouldn´t do.

"Darling, there is no reason to be afraid, I´m not here to hurt you, do not let their horrid tales corrupt your thoughts. I am here to finally take you home!" He reached out his hands to you, wishing for you to jump into them and accept his love willingly yet he could only click his tongue in disappointment when instead, you took another step back.

"D-don´t come any closer!", you shouted out, breaking the poor siren´s heart in the process. How it hurt him to see you so frightened that you would turn your soulmate away. But no matter, he was prepared to take matters into his own hands and nudge you towards your own happy ending. You just needed a little bit of convincing.

"My darling, please listen to me! You and me, I know we were meant to be! So please don´t resist this, alright?", he hummed gently, his voice almost pitiful while begging you to hear him out.

You would have even felt sympathy for him if you weren´t acutely aware that you were facing a dangerous predator. There was no doubt in your mind that this was a siren and you needed to get away from there fast.

But unfortunately for you, you weren´t quick enough for as soon as you had gathered your resolve, Sunday´s ethereal singing voice had swiftly broken it down.

Suddenly, all your previous thoughts about him being a danger to stay away from evaporated, leaving you confused as to why you ever wanted to run away from him. There was nothing dangerous about him, was there?

Instead, your mind was now being filled with pleasant images of you and the siren spending time together, of him holding you close protectively, of him swearing his eternal love and kissing you. All of a sudden, you felt warm all over as you gazed deep into Sunday´s eyes and you knew that he was the one that was meant for you.

Slowly, one step at a time, you walked closer to the edge of the boat again, where Sunday was happily holding out his hands for you to take, eagerly grasping at air as if to usher you even closer.

And you were all too eager to follow his demands as a sugary sweet melody droned on and on in your ears, overwhelming you with feelings of everlasting love and devotion.

"That´s it, darling. Come closer. It´s only a few more steps.", he urged you on, almost desperately as you almost came into touching range. It was only a few more moments until he could finally have you in his arms. And once he did, he would never allow you to leave him again. Not that you would be able to underwater.

Voices were picking up in the background, quickly getting closer and Sunday realized that your crew must have picked up on what was happening.

"Come here quickly, darling!", he shouted, his voice growing more urgent and desperate the closer the booming voices got.

And you did as he said, quickening your steps towards him with a lovesick smile on your face.

"I´m almost there, my love", you said and Sunday´s heart almost burst at the sweet tone you took with him. He knew you were currently under the influence of his siren song but he strongly wanted to believe that the love you felt for him was real. Why else would you too be looking at him so full of yearning?

"Someone, quick! Grab on to them! That siren is trying to lead them to their death!", a gruff voice yells from the back with several more footsteps scrambling quickly behind. They were advancing on you fast and Sunday knew he was almost out of time as one quickly ran up to you.

"No, no, no! Don´t touch them! They´re mine! Don´t ruin this for me!", he yelled out in anger, his eyes a furious storm as they glared at the person trying to get a hold of you. He couldn´t fail so close to the end. How dare they accuse him of trying to harm you?!

"Please, you need to come to your senses!", the sailors try to reason with you but it´s almost like you can´t even register what they say.

" I need to meet with my love, he´s waiting for me.", you say, still smiling as you step to the very edge of the boat, looking down at a Sunday growing more and more manic by the second.

"Jump into my arms, darling! Accept my love and be mine forever!", the siren calls out to you as a crew member grabs into your arms, trying to pull you back.

"Don´t listen to him! Please, don´t do as he says!"

You struggle violently against the hold, kicking and screaming, demanding to be let go.

"No, you can´t separate me from my love, let me go! I need to be by his side!", you scream and with an especially harsh kick, the sailor lets go of you for a moment, leaving you with enough time to take the final step and jump right into your demise.

Sunday gently catches you in his arms, a lovesick smile on his face as he finally gets to hold you like he wanted to. You´re finally all his and there´s nothing that can be done about it anymore.

"I´m so happy you chose me, darling. We´re going to be so happy together. I´ll take such good care of you. No one else is ever going to touch you again.", he whispers into your ear and you can´t help but giggle joyfully at the prospect, your mind singing with affection, drowning out the growing panic within you.

But what is there to be afraid of? You´re finally united with the love of your life and nothing will ever separate you again.

Sunday holds you firmly as he quickly swims away from the boat, leaving your panicked crewmates behind.

Now that he finally has you, he will make sure that you´ll grow to love him even without his song. He knows that deep down, you love him just as much as he does you, you´ll just need a little bit of time to adjust to your new life underwater. He knows of a very beautiful underwater cave that he can keep you in until you grow more accustomed to your new life with him. Down there, you´ll never be able to escape his grasp again.

You will be his forever, for that is the consequence of putting him under a spell like you has.

And then he takes you with him to the very depths of the sea, never to be seen again.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Ghost King uses Uno Reverse Card

Ghosts are not a race of evil creatures that most people think they are. And Danny was really happy when the Infinite Realms were able to make peace treaties with most countries of the human world. Ghosts, however, are a very vindictive race. At least that’s how young Phantom explained himself to Batman afterwards.

It just so happens that a couple of hours before the event aimed at expanding intergalactic unions most of the JLeague members due to an emergency call went on a mission. Which means people who had any authority in Phantom’s eyes became unavailable for a while.

So Shazam and Phantom as the most known outside the Earth were assigned to greet the guests and most importantly to entertain the visitors until the founders of JL return.

According to Phantom, Batman, being such a good detective with a bunch of backup plans, should have known that Danny’s favorite cereal ran out this morning, that he was late for first class, and that after school he had a fight with his parents. No, seriously, aren’t so-called scientists supposed to be able to admit mistakes in their own judgment? Danny got tired of being constantly ashamed of their behavior near other ghosts. It's bad enough that his authority as a ruler is sustained only by the support of those Ancients with whom he maintains friendly relations. Average citizens still doubt that he is a is sufficient to claim the throne. He’s had enough of being accused of not being a full-fledged ghost.  He’s not ready to hear rumors that he supports his parents' racist judgments too. In short, his day sucked. And all his ghostly nature now wanted to do something nasty to his neighbors to get rid of the tension.

Alien leader stretched out a hand to Phantom and Shazam. “Your Majesty Phantom, Champion of Magic. It’s an honor to meet you. I hope I learned the proper greeting gesture of the local intelligent race.”

And with that Danny’s reserve of conscience ran out. It’s a perfect moment to feed his need to be a little shit.

“The local intelligent race?’ Danny had this extreme bewilderment on his face. “Which one do you think..? Earth was the home of the Gods and of various inhabitants of the galaxy but it was a long time ago.”

Woman is clearly confused. Great. “E-Earthers. I think they’re called that.”

“Earthlings, intelligent race? You must be mistaken.” Danny faked a giggle. “Who told you that crap?”

“Phantom, what are you doing?” Batman hissed at him from an earpiece. Danny turned the sound off with a clear conscience. “I mean, seriously, there’s not a single serious study in the science library in this galaxy or any other galaxy that says humans are intelligent. Shazam, do you think they’re..?”

For some reason, Billy immediately remembered watching a man spend his entire salary on lottery tickets last week. And of course he was careless enough to shake his head and snort. That was all Phantom needed.

“Exactly. Earthlings don’t have to be intelligent to mimic the behavior of more evolved species. Surely you are well aware that Martians and Kryptonians, and many others have visited Earth at different stages of human development. My supervisor Clockwork and I have long been observing this strange species. In many ways, their behavior resembles a mixture of instinctive reactions of specimens from the 126 sectors of the nearest SBc Galaxy and several other creatures from planets of the galaxy KV59. However, even I, as an anthropologist with extensive experience of observing human species in their natural habitat, still have to explore and discover many of their secrets.”

“I do not understand. According to the documents among the delegation that greets us there are Earthlings. I mean I don’t question the scientific evidence of a respected Chronos or you, but why then..”

“Of course you don’t! It’s really quite simple. For the purity of the clinical experiment, which we are conducting now, it is necessary that Earthlings feel themselves ostensibly full participants of the «society» consisting of members with developed intelligence.”

“So, any luck, colleague?” Shazam, who realized that Batman would now skin them anyway, decided to at least participate in this theater so that the punishment would be at least deserved.

“Well, we’ve certainly come up with some interesting preliminary insights about the adaptive capacity of the human brain in limited contact with Martians. Of course, humans do not have real emotions to be full participants in communication, but their attempts and zeal are very inspiring.”

~~~~~

Meanwhile, Fentons watching a live broadcast of what was supposed to be an interplanetary friendship encounter are beginning to realize that if trying to punish a rebellious human teenager has always been difficult for them, the attempt to control the behavior of the 14 y/o half-ghost may become a nightmare not only for them.

Jack: Honey, I think Danny’s still a little upset about our old theories about the ability of ghosts to feel or think.

Jazz, sitting between them with the face of a man resigned to the chaos around her, could not restrain the sarcasm: Really? Why would you think that?

[y2kuromi]

⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗨𝗡𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: you thought you’d never see satoru again, but those eyes are unmistakable

contents: sfw. angst to fluff. canon divergent, jjk 261 spoilers. my version of gojo coming back. est rel. they’re married & reader is pregnant. conflict. mentions of blood and injury. profanities. second and third person pov

summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone

shoko never cried. it was as immutable as hubble’s constant. not once — in the thirteen years you’d known her — had a tear fallen from her eyes. at most her brows would furrow and her pearly pink lips would quiver but she never cried.

she swore her lungs were too damaged from smoking and her eyes were too dry to sustain such ministrations, incapable of overflowing with bountiful water. but she was silent now and through your misted gaze you could see the tears in her dark brown eyes glisten like crystals as she choked back sobs. you could see the needle in her hands shaking as she gazed hopelessly at satoru’s body.

your hand is interlinked with his, and it’s so cold and lifeless in your grasp that you feel a fresh set of tears prickling your eyelids. his once bright blue eyes are pointed towards the heavens. devoted to the wispy clouds and pearly gates in a twisted prayer. a prayer to be free of the burden of being the strongest. a prayer to finally be human.

it’s selfish to press your lips to his hand and offer a mantra of pleas for him to come back — to hope the light returns to his infinitely blue eyes and his voice rings out as clear as day. teasing you for caring so much about him — but you do it anyway. you hold his heavy hand in yours and allow your thumb to graze the veins traversing his hand.

“please come back” the words sound feeble, and so weak as they fall from your trembling lips onto deaf ears “i can’t do this without you”

you couldn’t imagine what life would be like without satoru. there would be no more sunshine. no more meaning.

you were sure the universe would cease to exist. the days would blur into months, then years and it would all mean nothing if you could no longer feel the warmth of his love. the warmth of his lips against yours and his burning gaze fixed on you. not the heavens, just you.

“it doesn’t matter if you lost, i love you all the same” you whispered, “we both do”

it’s supernatural, the way you love him so wholly when your heart is broken beyond repair — the chambers are withered to a non-functioning pulp, the valves rendered immobile, and the tender muscle undeniably numb.

it hurts to breathe when satoru isn’t. when his eyes are out of focus and he’s frozen in time. it hurts but you allow your eyes to shift to the pool of blood on the operating table. shoko’s gloves are coated thickly with stains of red as she stitches meticulously. strong, neat crosses that bind what’s left of him together.

“sho” your voice comes out raspy, unabashedly raw from the consistency of the tears flowing from your eyes “is he going to be okay?” it made no sense to ask such a question, when you could see his corpse in-front of you. but none of this made sense.

he was supposed to come home to you.

“i’m trying my best” shoko said softly, wiping profusely at her heavy-lidded eyes with her free hand. “i want to bring him back. for you, for everyone, but i have to be honest, it’s not looking good”

“is there anything i can do to help?” you make a weak attempt to control your breathing. to still the ache in your heart, “supernova.. has this ability renewable energy. ‘toru called it a defibrillator on steroids but i’ve only used it twice”

“did it work?” shoko asked, rubbing her cheek nervously and smearing a sheer layer of scarlet blood on her chin. you shook your head. it had worked the first time you used it, but the it didn't work the second. tsumiki didn’t wake up.

“it's unreliable..” your throat felt immensely dry, and you swallowed desperately “but i want to try. i have to.”

“it might work with my reverse cursed technique” she murmured, “and with utahime amplifying it, it’s worth a shot”

your grip on satoru’s hand tightened. you felt the tingle of cursed energy spread through your fingers as they became shrouded in warm, orange light.

it felt foreign, to use your cursed technique after so many years of letting it simmer — a slowly dying ember — in your soul. you would dig up old wounds, and bear new ones if it meant having your husband back

the door creaked open and you couldn't bring yourself to peer and see who it was. you could hear three pairs of footsteps running into each other in quick succession.

“how’s it going shoko? okkotsu’s ready to take over go—” mei-mei asks, her voice trails off as her sharp brown eyes fall on you “oh (y/n) you’re here” her bottom lip is caught between her teeth as she runs a hand through her blue-grey hair

“i told you she was arriving soon” utahime says through gritted teeth. positively seething as her footsteps slow to a stop in-front of you “i’m really sorry (y/n), i wish things turned out different”

“i’ll say” mei-mei murmurs, leaning against the door frame “the live broadcast ratings have plummeted seriously, everyone wanted to see him go toe-to-to with the king of curses and win”

you blinked. once. twice. before rage slithered through your veins like a serpent. your blood boiled, bubbling precariously and you were sure you were going to explode.

“you were broadcasting this?” it’s inconceivable to you. the extent of which she didn't see satoru as a person, but a god.

the god of wealth and the antithesis of weakness. the god who had to pay her to keep her as an allied sorcerer. the god that meant nothing to her but strength and money. “are you fucking serious? you wanted to profit off my husband risking his life”

“it was a good idea if i do say so myself” she muses, as she glances at her phone. “but considering the outcome i'd assume you want some of my earnings? that can be arranged”

your vision was clouded with an anger so strong you were sure you would short-circuit. your sensory neurones couldn’t receive the impulse of someone being so cruel and heartless.

you were blissfully unaware you were advancing towards mei-mei until utahime placed a calming hand on your shoulder. her brown eyes were sad and she shook her head fervently “don’t. it’s not worth it”

“if she can’t handle knowing this how will she cope with the plan for okkotsu” mei-mei frowns, “she shouldn’t be here, she’s not a sorcerer anymore”

“and you would know, because sorcerers run off to malaysia and sell all their assets while their peers fight for their lives” you scoffed sarcastically, “if it came down to it you wouldn’t lift a finger to help satoru if there wasn’t money involved but i would. i would die for him—”

“you didn’t. you quit and look where he is now”

“mei-mei try to have some respect you’re talking to his wife” ijichi finally snapped, shooting her a well-meaning glare, “you can’t seriously be this tactless”

“his body wouldn’t have been claimed so easily without ui ui’s assistance. she should be thanking me” mei-mei argued, folding her arms over her chest

it took a sheer amount of willpower to regain your composure and reposition yourself on the stool beside the operating table instead of firing off a stable star at her.

“what’s happening with yuuta?” you asked, peering at utahime through your tear-filled eyes. you felt your heart sinking further into the bottomless abyss of your grief as she averted her gaze. her hands found the scarlet fabric of her hakama pants and she wrung the cloth nervously

“he said he was going to tell you but i knew he wouldn’t” her lips curved into a deep-set frown. she pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled softly. “ seeing him like this can’t be good for you or the baby” your hand fell to your stomach instinctively.

you could still feel his hands on the taut skin. you could still feel his fingertips trailing over the curved bump and hear him cooing to your baby — absolutely convinced it only moved when he spoke to it. satoru was prepared to give your baby the childhood he never got to have. the childhood you could only make together.

you couldn’t do it alone. you knew the baby would be the spitting image of its father. with little ivory tufts of hair and baby blue eyes that would rival the sky on a clear summer’s day. your baby would be beautiful. it was inevitable, even in death satoru didn’t fail to take your breath away.

you wanted to hate him, for leaving you again but you couldn’t. all you could do was hope he would defy all the odds and make his way home to you.

“it doesn’t matter. what’s happening with yuuta?” your eyes were pleading, it was torture being kept in the dark. you needed to know everything because ignorance wasn’t bliss. it was hell. you knew the gnawing curiosity and desperation would destroy whatever was left of your already shattered heart “hime, please tell me i need to know”

“i want to tell you" she gulped, "i can’t, it’ll be too much for you to bear. i can't have that on my conscience—”

“i’ll tell her” shoko said softly, “it’s the least i can do now that everything's gone to shit”

your eyes widened at how defeated she sounded. her voice was worn, as if she'd fought a million battles and lost each one. she had. you knew more than anyone how she felt. haibara, suguru, nanami, and now satoru.

“we’ll give you some privacy” utahime said, squeezing your shoulder lightly. it’s a gesture that seems to say a lot more than the sadness etched onto her face. it’s a gesture that says she cares.

the silence that follows as mei-mei, ijichi and utahime trail out of the makeshift infirmary is deafening. a silence filled with a magnitude of feelings and unspoken words.

“there’s no easy way to say this,” shoko inhaled sharply, “okkotsu copied kenjaku’s technique…and he’s going to take over satoru’s body to help yuuji finish this once and for all”

you didn't know whether to cry or laugh, the sound that escaped your lungs was a cruel combination of both.

“no” you said firmly, as if the singular world had the power to render the universe, fate and time itself motionless, “you can’t do that to him. i won’t let you.”

“please believe me when i say that we don’t want this any more than you do” her voice is subdued. the softest you've ever heard it. yet it does nothing to soothe your aching heart “but it’s the only way”

“there has to be another way” you cried, “he spent his entire life being used as a tool. i can't let him be used even in his death. satoru deserves so much more than that. how could you even be okay with this shoko? do you not care?”

you knew she did, in the murky depths of your shipwrecked heart and the wooden splinters you had for ribs, you knew shoko cared about satoru. none of this made a slither of sense.

“i’m not okay with this” tears brimmed at her waterline and she began crying again, cosmic beads trailing down her flushed cheeks as she looked at you helplessly, “but he said it was fine. he said he doesn’t care what happens to his corpse”

she doesn't believe the words for a second, even as they fall from her lips and fill the space between you. but she had to. the guilt would eat her alive if she didn't.

“he didn’t have a choice. no one has ever given him a choice” your eyes fell to satoru's unmoving body. you were positive a part of you was dying. a part of you was shrivelling up completely and this was the final blow. a part of you was dead.

“i can’t bring him back (y/n) i’ve tried everything” she said dejectedly, fumbling around for her lighter and setting a cigarette aflame, “i feel so useless, i would give up everything to bring him back to you but i can’t”

“i know” you said. it killed you to admit it. it felt like you were betraying satoru and everything he stood for. "what's going to happen to him?"

it would be fine, it was for a good cause right? once all of this was over satoru could finally be at peace—

“yuuta either dies after his five minutes granted by rika's manifestation are up or he lives on in satoru’s body” she muttered. you felt bile rise in your throat. you were going to be sick

“i can't allow that” you said shakily, “i can barely breathe without him.. but if i have to see okkotsu in his body.. shoko" your vision ran blurry and it felt like your throat was closing up

"he’s everything to me. i can’t live with that. i can't see his body alive and have my heart know it's not him. what about the baby? my baby is going to grow up without a father”

the realisation hit you like a splash of cold water. the picture perfect family you and satoru had just started to build came crumbling down in seconds, drowning in the uncharted waters of a future without him.

“i’ll be with you every step of the way” shoko promised, “ it won't be the same i know, but i’ll be right by your side when you give birth and i’ll be there with you until the day i die.”

she felt it was the least she could do after everything. after she couldn't save satoru. it would be hard and you would hate every second of it, "nothing will ever be the same without satoru"

your words seemed to be the final nail in his coffin. it was concluded. you would inevitably learn to live without him. you would inevitably learn to do the impossible.

“he wouldn’t want you to live the rest of your life being miserable” shoko sniffed, “he wouldn’t even want to see you cry. he loved you so much, it was sickening"

you withered noticeably, shoulders and morale deflating as you caught a glimpse of the hopeless look in her eyes. she really had given up.

and so had you. you'd wanted desperately to fight till the end, to cling onto the slim chance of bringing satoru back, but you couldn’t do it alone. you couldn’t face the monster alone. satoru was right about one thing, love truly was the most twisted curse of all.

“he told me he’d come back” you said quietly, a mere whisper amidst your heavy breathing and the sound of your choked sobs, “he promised”

you cupped his cheek in your palm once more. his skin was still cool to the touch and the pale grey undertones beneath it broke your heart beyond measure. you could barely make out his face through your tear-filled eyes. nor could you grasp the prospect of never seeing him look at you again.

you’d never see him gaze at you as if you’d single-handedly hung the stars in the night sky and crotched each slither of grass into the earthy soil again. you’d never have the pleasure of watching his beautiful eyes adjust to the morning sun again.

you wouldn’t have the pleasure of watching him cradle your child, watching him blow raspberries and nuzzle into your baby’s neck. you wouldn’t have the pleasure of watching him search for your traits he loved so much in the baby that would bind you together for infinity. and you had to find the strength to be okay with that.

you brushed back the limp white strands on his forehead and placed a desperate kiss onto satoru’s exposed skin. it sickened you to feel him completely still beneath your touch, unresponsive to your lips pressed against his temples.

you smothered muffled ‘i love yous’ to the expanse of his face. trailing kisses from his forehead to his cold lips. a last ditch effort to will him alive. to will his eyes to turn away from the heavens and look at you.

he does. in a moment that feels infinite, a flash of light beams in his eyes

you blink. once. twice. absolutely sure you were imagining the way his long eyelashes fluttered like a dove soaring from the cloying clutches of the ashes of death. absolutely sure you were imagining the pinkish hue returning to his porcelain skin. and his brows twitching as he regained what was left of his consciousness.

until you see the bright blue eyes you’d loved religiously, devotedly, for as long as you could remember fade from a dull blue into a beautiful mellowed grey-blue

it felt like the world stood still, the thumping of your heart reconstructing itself slowly, meticulously drowned out the ticking of the wall clock, the dripping of the intravenous fluids, and shoko’s breathless inhales of smoke.

“‘toru?” it feels surreal — the hand cupping your face, the thumb smoothing across your tear-stained cheeks, and the smile tugging at satoru’s lips. it feels like a dream, the hazy romantic grey eyes that drink you in. as if you’re made of every drop in the deep blue oceans that covered the earth’s crust. but the unadulterated love in his eyes is unmistakable. “shoko, he’s alive”

shoko rushes to your side and knocks over her stool in the process. it feels as though the heavens opened up and dropped you a lifeline. as if an immortal being heard your pleas and instead of casting away a god, cast a mere mortal, a human.

without the six eyes that had haunted him from conception. without the six eyes that made him the strongest. without the six eyes that took him away from you.

the heavens took the strongest away from you, and in return gave you satoru.

“how?” shoko spluttered, “i tried everything under the sun. how the hell did you come back by yourself, you vermin?”

a smile as bright as the sun itself is etched onto his face, and the dimples you loved to press kisses to are more than visible beneath the fluorescent lights. satoru mustered up the strength to pull you into his arms.

he was half the man he used to be, yet he felt so complete.

“binding vow” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to the bone of your wrist, “it was a long shot but it worked, you’re looking at the new and improved satoru”

“the binding vow?” shoko queried, “i thought you gave up on that when you agreed to let okkotsu use your body” she propped her hand under her chin and looked at him sceptically.

"the heart wants what it wants" he shrugged sheepishly, "i thought it would be fine giving up part of the six eyes, turns out i needed to give up everything."

"are you okay with that?" you asked. he was more than okay with it. he would give up everything if it meant it could be with you. he nodded.

he didn't need the six eyes to see that you loved him. he didn't need to be the strongest, when he could be satoru with you

"don't worry about me sweets, i'll live" he said softly "besides nothing feels as good as coming back to you"

"nothing feels as good as having you come back to me" you murmured, allowing his hands to find repose on the small of your back. you buried your face in his chest, the tell-tale signs of tears soaking into his tight black shirt.

"would've been kinda funny if okkotsu took over my body" he said slyly, "you would've hated me"

"i hate you" you groaned, pushing yourself off his worn body, "i really hate you satoru gojo. so much more than you know"

"i know baby, i know" he laughed, lacing his fingers through yours and pressing a bittersweet kiss to your knuckles, "i love you too"

“how could you even agree to that?” you pried your hand from his grip and pointed an accusatory finger at him as you clambered off the operating table, “without so much as telling me ‘toru really?”

“‘s too soon to be mad at me sweets” he pouted, voice syrupy. too syrupy. for someone who had just risen from the dead, “i wanted to tell you. i should’ve told you. forgive me please”

satoru attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, and fails in quick succession earning an exasperated sigh from both you and shoko. you can't truly bring yourself to remain mad at him. not when he'd sacrificed the sole thing that shaped his existence to come back

“stay put you idiot” shoko snapped, “i have to make sure everything’s in order” she stubbed out her cigarette in a petri dish before slipping on a new pair of gloves.

with the naked eye satoru appeared the same —save for his newly grey eyes— but she was concerned for his wellbeing beyond that. he’d pushed his brain beyond his capabilities during his fight against ryomen sukuna.

satoru cracked an insufferable grin as he ran his left hand through his hair. the slashed scars on it are equally as beautiful as the scars toji left on him. he's equally as beautiful as the day you met him.

“sho you look like death” he quipped, “you sure you’re not the one who needs a check up? ”

“funny” she deadpanned, a tight lipped smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “you’ve been back for less than five minutes and you’re already riling me up”

"hah? don't act like you didn't miss me" he chuckled, "you've been crying haven't you? i knew you cared about me”

"please shut him up" shoko groaned, imploring you with her tired brown eyes. "or distract him while i run the necessary tests. considering the damage dealt by sukuna he should be on bed rest for a few weeks"

"mm i could do with a vacation" he grinned, "where do you feel like going sweets?" it felt like tempting fate to have such casual discussions with satoru when he had been gone mere minutes ago.

and you'd felt the weight of the universe and gravity crushing the embers of your soul — but you would always indulge him. it was your constant, forever unchanging, as immutable as the speed of light

"miguel said we'd like zanzibar" you said thoughtfully, plopping down on your stool as shoko pressed the diaphragm of her stethoscope to his chest, "what about your students?"

"they've got it from here" he hummed. he had the familiar glint of pride that flickered in his grey-blue eyes when he thought of his students. they would carry on his legacy, he was sure of it

they could be strong together.

© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

[arlertwhore]

need more paige fics on here it’s criminal atp 💔🥲

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: paige invites her sneaky link to a team dinner, but she has an appetite for you.

warning(s): smut, dom paige, sub reader, more power play, pussy eating (p a munch), fingering, spit kink, mommy kink, nastiest public sex ever.

word count: 3.9k, if i read the estimate right.

author note: unedited - based off a request. ty sm for the love on my first post, it made me feel like writing this 🤍 I check every noti and read every comment!! enjoy, inbox open, yk yk. MINORS DNI

Paige wouldn't confess to it openly, but she knew her feelings for you had underwent a significant adjustment following your whole jersey stunt. She — nicknamed Paige Da Pimp by her teammates for her playboy attitude, was not the type to get smitten for girls, and especially not the ones she had just been hooking up with in a casual sense, but after photographing a memento of you in the jersey post-fuck to keep her sustained for her busy week away of back-to-back games, practices, training... etc, all that athlete jazz, she had come to the agonizing realization that it was the biggest mistake she had ever made. And if there was one thing to note about Paige, she HATED mistakes.

Although she hadn't seen it that way at the time, which was totally understandable since it was just a sexy photo, Paige knew she was acting brainless for what she did. You were cute, fucked well, really turned her on, and she liked you as a hook-up, but she knew better than to genuinely like people, girls, in a serious sense while committed to her career. It'd never work out, and it was something she was very forward about the first time you hooked up. Paige had taught you her many rules, making it clear that she was the one in control due to her media appearance. She expected the feelings aspect to be the other way around but had soon found herself blushing as her team teased her about you relentlessly for being her lock-screen and gawking at a TikTok of you, sharing your daily routine. Sure, Paige knew the lockscreen aspect might've been pushing it, perhaps another misstep, but it was faceless due to her penchant for privacy in your affair, and she used it motivationally for her jampacked week, not as a new means to stay fixated over you.

To the tall blonde, that pictured depicted the prettiest girl in the world wearing her jersey, a visual testament to the hard work and perseverance that had brought Paige to where she was.

So, the photo served as a reminder to keep pushing forward despite how difficult it got. Though Paige surely did like you, she was also very cognitively astute, and knew that whatever feelings she had unfortunately accumulated for you would automatically dismantle due to the demands and stress of her career. She might have panicked over her feelings if you guys had an upcoming visit, but since both of your schedules were full, it became a wait-it-out game where you had both been thinking of each other as you tended to your daily lives. Before her Tuesday game, Paige examined her lockscreen before tossing her phone and running onto court, kissing upwards of the arena, plausibly sending the kiss off into the sky, presuming it would fall wherever you were. The net had tried to decipher the action to no avail. You

were at work and witnessed the moment when it had occurred, so the kiss had been retrospectively received. The cycle repeated each day: you worked, studied on breaks, went to the gym late, then came home, and studied again. The sole reason you were able to remember Paige outside of all else was because you waitressed and they played her games on TV occasionally. It was cruel to think you had some good sex just a few days ago before being forced back to your life. Paige was your only escape and you both didn't have any time in the world to see each other. You couldn't shake the thoughts that with each missed day to spend, because you guys were casual, you were running out of time. Like she was going to leave and find somebody better and more convenient. It was mundane to say the least, but that all changed on Friday night. By the end of the week, Paige soon realized there'd been no point in hiding you from her team. Her fans, the media especially, sure, but you two weren't a secret amongst the knowledge of the team.

Some of them: KK, Azzi, Aubrey, and Ice had even spoken to you and met you three months back at the party, where you first met Paige. You were hammered out of your mind and ranted to them about how much you wanted Paige. They had all discussed how hilarious you were here-and-there after Paige gave you a chance. Paige herself had missed you greatly, so she figured it didn't matter if she invited you to a team dinner.

Her friends were inviting their friends too, and it wouldn't have looked weird if fans or the media noticed. So that's how you found yourself scrambling through your closet at 8 PM, clothes strewn around the room as you searched for your black dress, which was Paige's favorite color on you. You had hurried through your assignments on break at work and left early just to make it there, hating that Paige had sprung this on you randomly.

This is something one would need aforemention for; you had to be more perfect than usual. Hair, makeup, nails, dress, behavior—for crying out loud, you were representing Paige freakin' Bueckers, and that meant you couldn't be tardy or shabby in any aspect. You simply had to be PERFECT. You didn't wanna get replaced by someone more convenient for her, and you knew she had only made this gesture because she missed you: typical Paige wouldn't even consider bringing you to a team dinner, so you thought she was crazy for even offering, knowing this opportunity might not arise again if you didn't show tonight.

As you arrived, you could see the team and some other faces present at the grand table. Thankfully, you did look better than the guests, and even though you were aware, you were still incredibly nervous. Seeing Paige's face, giggling with a teammate sat across from her, was the only thing that kept your high-heeled cladden feet advancing, heart pounding senselessly in your chest. The fullness in the restaurant didn't make you feel better, and with all eyes on you, you felt they knew your secret. You were right: most of them did, and as you reached the grand table, the entire team glanced at you knowingly. The last time you saw them all was at the New Year's party three months ago, before the fact you acted on behalf of Paige. It was majorly awkward now, seeing them sober, knowing you had rambled to all of them, especially KK & Azzi, about how badly you wanted Paige. You being here proved Paige had made your dream come true.

"Get over here, weirdo," Paige called out, and at the sound of her voice, you chuckled, feeling the tension ease. After not touching her, tasting her, holding her—seeing her for what felt like years, you had yearned more than ever to kiss her, to do everything to her that you hadn't had the chance to do in the past week, but due to being in public, all you could do was hug like friends in-case others knew who she was and were recording. It was bumming. You engulfed her in a big hug, smaller arms wrapping around her toned body as you tenderly whispered, "Wanna kiss you so badly. Missed you so much, Peanut Butter."

Paige chuckled softly at your clever play on words, sighing, "I know, I know," as she caressed your upper back, cautious of moving any lower, "Thanks for gettin' it, angel."

You smiled, feigning contentment as you released Paige, mindful that your embrace couldn't linger for too long, lest it provoke any speculation. She kindly helped you remove your dress coat, like a gentleman, and allowed you to sit on the inner side of the booth, assuming her new spot on the outer beside you at your right. To your left was a girl whom KK had invited — she sat sorta close, but far enough at the perfect proximity for Paige, in one very swift movement, to place the coat upon your lap and rest her big hand onto your thigh behind the eyes of everybody else present.

The blonde leaned in, her breath warm against your ear and body pressed flush against yours as she rasped, "As long as they don't see, right?" hand inching up your thigh, her inflection, voice, and touch sending shivers down your spine as she stroked your inner thigh preciously. "Paige!" you growled quietly, "Get a grip—this is unlike you." Paige knew you were right. She was losing her marbles because she liked you so much and couldn't control herself for any longer after having to for an entire week. She needed to have you. It was a blooming sign of her ensuing limerence for you. And she just loved that look in your eye too, all high-strung and panicking at the mere touch of her fingers—it was intoxicating.

You screwed your eyes shut briefly as her middle finger pressed against your clit, lightly; barely moving, edging you. Exhaling deeply, you struggled to get your eyes open, forced to pretend nothing was happening as banter and conversation and laughter flowed around you.

Eventually, you knew you would have to join in, but right now, you were consumed by the sensation of Paige's touch. And when she jested, "Hey," lowly, the sound sent tons of slick oozing out of your wet pussy, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't ignore. Her long, delicate finger teased your little clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout the entirety of your body as you struggled to remain still, quiet, and maintain your composure.

It almost set you off when Paige's foot began to play with yours as she admitted, "I couldn't stop thinking of you all week," in this way of raw carnality and blatant desire you hadn't ever witnessed Paige showcase. It was just pure fucking, usually. A fuck that you didn't have to act totally sexy for all-the-time since it was just a mutual thing. This, whatever Paige was doing tonight, was something very different. Her words — "About how I'd get to touch you, taste you, and how your body would look and how you'd sound. Fuck," she says in a low grunt resemblant of pain. "I can't wait for you again."

Paige stopped briefly, and you didn't know whether to be thankful or upset, groaning out in response. Paige tutted thrice. "You aren't gonna look at me when I'm talking to you?" she chided. "Be a good girl, angel, use your manners so I can give you what you want." You were utterly bewitched by her words. Her touch. Her voice. Her body against yours. Her aura. She was just so captivating. Today, she had foregone her glasses, leaving just her raw, intense eyes to pierce through you. Clad in her post-game attire—a sleek black Nike Tech outfit, her hair styled in the signature front braids and ponytail—you couldn't deny the magnetic pull she had on you. You found yourself afraid to look at her for too long, fearing that the sheer intensity of her presence would send you over the edge. She almost did. You were right. When you looked at her, she smirked at you, locking eyes with you in a gaze that was indescribable. The way she looked at you had changed. "Just like that," she cooed, "Keep your eyes on mommy just like that." You let out a small whine, squishing your legs together to unwaver what felt like a climax. You felt like you were going to explode. Leaning forward, you took a second to recollect yourself as Paige's fingers continued to service you. Around you, the conversation was flowing, and as the head of her team, Paige easily inserted herself into it by introducing you to everybody. "Guys, I want you to meet Y/N L/N, Y/N L/N, the team and friends." Used to celebrating excessively, they all clapped for you, and Paige tapped your side with her free hand, urging you to sit up and be polite. You waved to everyone, adorning a smile that had taken every morsel of energy within you to present. "Long time no see, huh?" KK instantly began, "Let's hope you don't drink too much tonight and spill any secrets about how much you want Paige." Laughter filled the air, including yours. Relaxing against the booth, you tilted your head back, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as Paige's fingers began to intrude your entrance, their movements smooth and tantalizing, causing you to clench around them. "Don't gotta be lit to tell you, K," you giggled, diverting your attention to the conversation that had just begun, while also trying to ignore Paige's relentless fingers.

You just didn't know how she could do it so seamlessly -- her beautiful big blue eyes had managed to look utterly focused, absorbed in KK's story as if she hadn't been scissoring you open with purpose in each fervent stroke of her fingers into you. A contented grin was fixed on her face, seemingly listening to KK's recount of the first time she met you intently, but that was not the case whatsoever, and you two were the only ones aware. Paige rested her head upon your shoulder, her left arm hooking around your waist to grab her Shirley Temple, to take a sip.

She raised the glass, offering you a sip, and you disguised a moan in a hum when she began a come-hither motion against your g - spot, savoring the cold drink to assist in cooling down your rising body temperature. "You like that?" she asked, early not referring to the drink. Her tone was cunning, smirk suggesting she knew the effect she was having on you.

You managed a smile, maintaining your composure. "Mhm. I like it." you uttered, your voice resonating with an underlying force, each word carrying the weight of your struggle to sound controlled.

Thankfully, Azzi had interjected KK's story, prolonging it, and you anticipated that Azzi's sociable nature would keep you from speaking for a while longer. However, just as you expected the social buffer, a waiter approached for your order. Being a waiter yourself, you understood why she was there, and you blurted out, "Water," upon her arrival, eager for her to leave as quickly as possible. Fuck! you thought, That seemed bitchy. You resolved to tip her later to make up for it, but you couldn't have cared less in the moment. Your head was spinning; Paige's ring finger had begun to circle your clit precisely, at a steady pace, in a touch and speed you couldn't replicate no matter how hard you tried. Her middle finger had been gathering your wetness and smoothing it over your clit, intensifying the sensation, intensifying the situation.

"So then, besides this intro story, Y/N, why don't you tell us about yourself? You know, the real you?" Paige prodded, her tone laced with subtle encouragement, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes as she attempted to coax you into speaking. "U-uh," you stammered, clearing your throat, "studying at UConn." It's a line you're programmed to say regularly, especially at work when dumb college goons try to hit on you.

The prompt silence urged you to continue speaking, but you wanted to curl up and pretend to be asleep. Your hole clenched around nothing, and you tried to avoid looking at Paige, fearing you might cum on the spot like you nearly had earlier. Gathering your strength, you said, "I'm studying to become a nurse. I'm from the city just over, but I'm, uh, you know... just an average girl."

You, being at a dinner and getting finger-fucked wasn't just stuff average girls did.

Nothing was average about this dinner experience. Not even the amount of wetness you had accumulated, which had become so much that it began to trickle down your leg. To have the amount of need you were suppressing literally oozing out of you, you moan, an audible one, but mask it as a cough before raising Paige's drink to your lips, taking a sip, and then placing it down. You could hear Paige laugh hushedly from your side, relishing in the power dynamic. "My throat's so dry," you quickly add to compensate for the odd noise, hoping to divert attention away from your unintentional reaction. "Did the questionin' make you nervous?" KK teased yet again, her tone playful as she pointed out, "You're breaking a little sweat."

You wanted to jump for joy. Finally, you had an excuse to excuse yourself. "Oh no, am I?" you replied, trying to hide your relief. "Lemme go make sure my makeup's good, P."

Forced to stand before you could exit, Paige did, and as you rose to your feet, she made sure you saw the image of her fingers in her mouth, sucking your wetness off them.

This, combined with all you had just endured got you weak in the knees as you stood up and made your way out. The sensation of her touch lingered, leaving you feeling so worked up that you felt like you were going to implode.

You weren't even wearing any makeup. You rarely did outside of work. Inside of the bathroom, feeling rather empty, you briefly considered touching yourself but rendered that option pointless seeing as you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself how Paige did you. You also always failed to replicate it too. Instead, to cool down your body and thoughts, you resorted to flushing your face with cold water. By the time you finished, Paige had appeared in the doorframe behind you, nearly as tall as it was.

"You got sick, I had to take you home, here's your coat," she said, recounting the tale you'd explain for leaving early, flinging the coat at you with a brisk motion, one of an athlete.

You caught it, but urgency pulsed through you. If she wanted to test you, you would test her. High heels clacking as you strode over to the taller blonde, you pressed her against the bathroom door, your kiss fueled by an intense need. The taste of yourself on her tongue drove you crazy and you couldn't deny how intoxicating it was. Her knee was nestled between your legs, and she pulled back to rain kisses down your neck, her voice filled with fervor as she questioned, "Why the hell aren't you wearing panties, hm?" In a rush, but with purpose, you responded, "Can't you see I'm dressed exactly how you like, P? It's all part of the plan."

She picked you up, your body clinging to hers as she placed you on the counter of the sinks. You made out fervently, her strong body no longer pressed against the door, leaving you both vulnerable to potential intruders. This was dangerous, extremely so. Paige kept letting you take dominance, even if it wasn't as blatant as her own, and it was exhilarating. When you placed your legs upon the counter, high heels on, your tits dropping below your dress with your pussy on display, clenching and unclenching as you pleaded, "I want your mouth," Paige couldn't resist. As she dropped to her knees, she reasoned that she was already in too deep to back out. The vodka in her Shirley Temple convinced her it was fine too, and fuck, it felt beyond fine. Her eyes remained locked with yours as she began by licking your hole, teasing the tip of her tongue inside before traveling up to your clit, prodding at it expertly.

"You taste so good," Paige murmured against your clit, sucking it.

"How would all your good-girl Uni friends feel if they saw you like this, hm? Legs spread like the slut you are, begging for my mouth."

Paige was losing control. She was spiraling. You looked too slutty, too good, and the situation was too risky for her not to take a picture of this. Removing her phone from her pocket, she handed it to you, and you already knew what to do.

You eagerly begin a video recording of Paige devouring you, capturing every salacious moment with fervor. Her mouth and tongue work tirelessly, exploring every inch of your dripping sex, her fingers sliding effortlessly into you, curling and stroking in the harmony with her oral ministrations. You moan uncontrollably, your senses overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body. As Paige's tongue dances over your clit and her fingers plunge deeper, you writhe and squirm on the counter, unable to contain the ecstasy building within you.

The sensations are overwhelming, driving you to the brink of madness as you teeter on the edge of blissful oblivion. "Film yourself," Paige murmurs against your pussy, and you obediently turn the camera toward your face and heaving chest. The lens captures your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, and the dazed look of ecstasy in your eyes as you surrender to the euphoria of Paige's mouth and fingers.

"M'gonna cum, baby," you whine, bucking your hips with a primal urgency against her face, desperate for release. "Yes, yes, please," you whimper, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the pressure builds to an unbearable peak. "I need it, Paige, I need to cum." As the climax washes over you like a tidal wave, you cling to Paige's head, holding her against your pussy as your body convulses with the force of your release.

With a satisfied smile, Paige grabs a paper towel and tends to you, then looks up to the camera from her knees, tongue teasingly licking off the remnants of your arousal. You hastily rearrange your clothes, staying put on the counter as Paige rises from between your legs to place her lips against yours. Paige's lips kiss with tender urgency that feels like unspoken intimacy and connection. As her mouth melds with yours, you feel the lingering heat of desire between you guys. In that fleeting embrace, there's a sense of vulnerability and trust, as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the electrifying sensation of her lips against yours. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, a silent reassurance that you're in this together, navigating the waves of need and indulgence as one.

But then again, you're recording, so the moment, while still undeniably sexy, lacks the sweetness of intimacy. Paige takes the phone from your hand, filming as she guides you off the counter by your hand, only to drop it suddenly, spinning you around and pressing you against the cool surface. With her lap pressed against your ass, she asserts control, her hand firmly guiding your hips as she captures the action in the mirror.

As you grind back against her, you breathe out softly, "We're defiling this place, P," your voice laden with desire.

She responds in kind, her voice husky with arousal. "You're right, angel. Come on." With a firm grip on your hair, she pulls you back up until you're tilting your head to meet her gaze. Without hesitation, she delivers a fast, open-mouthed kiss that feels less intimate this time, followed by a daring act of dominance. She spits into your mouth, and you swallow, the act captured on camera for all to see.

With a shared glance, you rearrange yourselves, a tacit acknowledgment passing between you as you hastily fix your appearance. The urgency to flee the restaurant is palpable, both of you acutely aware of the need to escape before anyone catches wind of the steamy encounter that just unfolded in plain sight.

masterlist here

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The way you say my name

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x female!Reader

Its pure smut and since its about Feyd, there are some warnings: he is not so gentle. There is desire on both sides and it ends up getting in the praise kink/forced orgasm territory.

Summary: Your planet has brought magic into the galaxy - a source of new spice- and upended the political status quo. You are the sole heiress of your house and the emperor decided that the best way to protect your family's survival is to betroth you to the most enigmatic but violent fighter in the known universe: Na Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, dangerously seductive and very intrigued by you …

2.203 words

one shot ( for now)

_________

Your whole body was tense, filled with anticipation and nervousness. You noticed your fingers were unconsciously playing with your belt again, and with effort you made yourself refrain from doing so. It was not your first time in the Emperor's court, nor was it your first state reception. Still, it was the first time you had set foot on Kaitain since the new spice was discovered on your planet. Something that had been considered impossible for millennia and that would shake the existing power structures in the Landsraat and the entire known universe. From an insignificant house on a planet beyond Orion, blessed with centuries of stability because of it, your family has been catapulted into a position of a central political player. Your fate, albeit a small piece of a power play against the backdrop the these developments. "Our task is greater than ourselves. Our fears, smaller." The mantra that helped you hold a steady course. You relax your shoulders and notice how your back straightens. 

At that moment, a festively dressed servant entered the room to announce Baron Vladimir Harkonnen and his nephews arrival. Even though you had been prepared for this encounter, the sight was a shock to her. At the first glance he is less imposing then Rabban, who moved into the room like a mountain of muscle and leather uniform. But there is a slow and steady menace in the way he carries himself. His demeanor, both elegant and commanding, reminded you of a marble statue brought to life; his skin almost seemed to illuminate the room, a contrast stark against the dim flicker of torches.

If he had eyebrows, he would certainly have raised one a little crookedly by now. But as it was, his ice-blue eyes suddenly started at you, and you sensed a hardness in his entire demeanor that you weren't used to at home and whose traces you might have felt in her upbringing with Bene Gesserit, but which had always been wrapped in a velvet glove. But power, violence and strength were clear to see in this man. The reason why the Emperor wants to make him your husband - the only one who can apparently guarantee the safety of your planet. He was not used to having to hide his true character. And that is exactly what you would make his downfall.

The formalities dragged on endlessly, time seems to slow down under his gaze. He cannot comprehend you, the strangeness of your features, the luxuriant curls of your hair falling over your shoulders in an elegant half updo, the waves of burgundy silk of your cloak adorning your shoulders, your dress of the same silk and lace - how can anyone appear so vulnerable and exposed? Especially one who holds the key to the most coveted of secrets - a new spice, as powerful as the one exported from Arrakis, but with fewer dangers, Fremen rebellions and more sustainable methods of harvesting. Only this thin fabric separates you from him, something his knife could shred in seconds. He notices that your eyes have left his and are now focused on his hand, gripping the blade at his waist so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He unclenches his hand and offers it to you, bowing slightly. 

"My lady, would you allow me to escort you?"

You place your hand on his and he almost jerks back, surprised by its warmth.

"A mere twist of nature, I tend to forget how shocking it must be to someone not from my home. Our temperature has evolved to be slightly higher than the average, so that when the temperature drops at night, we never fall below a certain threshold".

He listens to you as you walk down the hall towards the banquet room, taking in your voice, the slight swish of your gown on the floor, the click of the delicate gold chains around your neck disappearing into the modest cut of your dress. 

His thoughts oscillate between genuine intrigue with you and your planet, both of which he will soon call his, and a burning desire to test your seemingly obvious fragility, to see how many times he can take you before you beg for mercy, how many bites into your skin will make you whimper, how many slaps on your ass will bring you to your knees regretting whatever misdeed you may have done. You can see his hunger, thinly veiled by manners, and you are sure that he is not accusing you in front of everyone for being in the Emperor's house and not on Giedi Prime. He seems so lost in thought that you have to repeat your question.

"Are you all right, Na Baron? Is something wrong? My conversational skills must be truly dull to bore you so".

He seems to come back to the present, his eyes resting on yours again, the colour of pure blue, like a deep frozen mountain lake. You look down, and just as he finds his voice, the Emperor rises to end the banquet.

"Then I shall bid you good night. If you wish, join me in the botanical garden tomorrow before noon. Perhaps my conversation skills will have improved by then".

He nods and stands to pull out your chair, taking the opportunity to let his fingers slide down your spine through your dress as he moves the chair to the side. He will join you tomorrow alright.

_____

The sun flickers through the canopy of trees above you, leaving a mosaic of shadows on the small, flat cobblestones of the path. You have your hair in a braid that sits like a halo around your head, your arms bare in the sun, dressed in a light linen top and form-fitting trousers that allow for more movement as you tend to the plants. The small patch in front of you is half empty, with small plants dug up. Their purple roots are gnarled and wobbly, while the vines are the darkest shade of green. A tiny bead of sweat clings to your eyebrow, and you pull off your glove to remove it. 

"Is this how my intended likes to spend her time?" His voice behind you, rough and deep. You are startled and drop the glove. He picks it up and holds it out to you, looking straight into your eyes again.

"Thank you. Sometimes I do," you give him an open smile and take the glove back from him, he holds it for a second longer than necessary, seemingly puzzled by your open expression once again. "These plants are from my home, the Emperor tries his best to cultivate them here, but we cannot figure out why they do not develop as they should," you look up at him, his gaze still unmoved from your face.

"Am I boring you again, Na Baron?"

"Not at all," his tongue moves over his lush lips, brushing his cupid's bow.

"Well then, these tiny plants are one of the main factors in the production of the new spice. Their sap is..." You take a small knife from the box beside you and just as you cut into one of the roots, your hand slips and a red streak of blood appears on your left hand. In an instant, a small trail of red drips down your palm and onto the light stones at your feet.

His eye darkens as he grabs your post, ignoring the plant in the flower bed, and brings the injured hand to his lips. A shower passes through you, his tongue brushing your skin, electrifying.

"You should be more careful, my lady." 

His voice almost a growl, his soft and plush lips sucking lightly at your skin, leaving a red mark around them. 

"Yes, I should, Feyd," you are not sure if calling him by his name was a familiarity you allowed yourself too soon, but his reaction proves you wrong. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his face inches from yours. You feel your breath mix, his scent sweet and musky around you.

"Say my name again" There is no politeness to hide his hunger now.

"Feyd..." An almost unbearable exhalation is all you can manage. And with that, he closes the gap between you and descends on your lips, devouring you. His kiss tastes slightly metallic as you taste your blood on his lips, his tongue touching your teeth, demanding entry. You give in, melting into his ministrations, your hands unable to stay still, reaching for his neck, nails digging into the porcelain skin, he almost Monas into the kiss, his hands clawing at your bottom, gripping the flesh in an iron grip. You make a small sound that seems to be all he has been waiting for. Leaving your swollen lips, his attack continues in your jaw and neck, leaving small marks. You feel his arrousal pressing against you and your right hand lets go of his throat and slides over the leather in a rhythmic motion. Before you can think how you can take so much, his size is obvious even fully clothed, he grabs the knife from before and cuts open your top, not bothering with the buttons, leaving your chest exposed to him. His mouth travels to your nipples, his tongue dancing around them before his mouth closes on them and his other hands pinch the other hard. You moan, the pain delicious and unexpected, making you arch even more towards him. He unties the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare to him. A drop of your wetness makes its way from your core along your inner thigh as you melt in his arms. His hand wanders deeper along your hipbones and thighs and as he catches the drop his predatory smile becomes a grin. 

„My lady seems to be enjoying herself... Kneel down".

You obey, the hard floor hurting your knees almost immediately. He pulls his swollen cock out of his trousers and strokes the head along your lips. You open your mouth and begin to lick his shaft with broad strokes, sucking the tip in and letting it fall from your mouth with a wet plop. He watches your every move and pushes a lock of hair that has come loose from your braid out of your face.

"Yes, that's a good girl, keep going."

Spurred on by the praise, you redouble your efforts, disregarding the discomfort of kneeling on the pavement and look up at him to find him completely mesmerised. He cannot believe how willingly you give yourself to him, without reservation. He feels as if he has found something sacred, something so precious and wild that he cannot imagine ever getting enough of it. He steadies your neck and finds his own rhythm, fucking your throat hard, the gurgling sound coming from you like music to his ears, you are struggling for air but he is relentless, filling you with his cum until you swallow every last drop. Your eyes almost in tears, you try to catch your breath, but Feyd has other plans as he helps you to your feet and lays you down on the patch of fresh earth. He spreads your legs and caresses your core. The pain seems to dissolve into a sea of pleasure, leaving you disoriented and greedy, your hands pressing the back of his head into your cunt. He moans in approval, sending more delicious vibrations through your cleat and as his tongue fins you entrance, you lose yourself in the orgasm, chanting his name with more earnestness than any prayer that was ever to leave your lips. 

He looks up at you and just when you think you are going to get a break from his ministrations, he pauses only to strip, his leather overalls falling to the floor and revealing his muscles. He grasps your hips and you spread your legs even wider, giving him an unobstructed view of you and your pulsating cunt.

"So ready to take me, my lady, so ready for my cock to fill you," he smiles, aligning himself with your entrance and thrusting in at once. His cock, thick and throbbing, disappears inside you as you continue to chant his name. He rams into you with abandon, his head touching your wall as his hands wander from your hips to your breasts, kneading them, whipping you into the frenzy of the second high, spasming even harder around his cock. 

"I think you can come again for me, my Na Baroness," he whispers in your ear as he lowers himself over you, one hand loving your breasts to study himself on the floor, the fingers of the other circling your clit. You moan, overstimulated and hot, writhing under his touch.

"I know you can do it," he continues, not slowing down, and he is right as you cum again, this time sending him over the edge, his movements becoming ragged as his seed fills you. As your both breathing calms, you look into his eyes again and you know he is a goner, lost to the magic of your touch and how your desires dance together.

[house-of-daena]

my doctor is a succubus!? [succubus.afab.baizhu x m.reader]

contents: he/him pronouns, subtop reader/powerbottom baizhu, nsfw, s3x with a LOT of feelings, virgin reader, overstimulation, praise, degradation, vanilla-ish, creampie, blood, fem genitalia/anatomy terms w/ baizhu (pvssy, cvnt, womb), mention of top surgery scars, ooc baizhu(? he's just really inlove w/ you), hurt/comfort, tell me if i miss anything. [wc. 5.2k]

꒰ GRAHHHHH finally able to post this... after 2-3 weeks posting the masterlist im . i can't with myself 😭 so sorry it took so long and im extra sorry it came out with this monstrosity. i very much like this imo buuttt i can't say the same for you guys. anyways, i probably wont write smth like this ever again unless y'all end up liking it!! (also this was supposed to celebrate 600-700 followers but uh. oops! ty for 800!) ꒱

let's fuck monsters tonight!

it was always peaceful at night. crickets chirping into the cool hours of darkness, fireflies lighting up as they flew, like the stars above the clouds, and the silent crashing of waves against the shore.

no soul could be seen wandering in the streets of liyue, except for some mililith patrolling to keep the city safe. but something lurked in the shadows...

something sinister.

hungry.

lustful.

he crept from house to house, looking for the perfect prey to feed on. he searched desperately, the hunger that had been ignored for treacherous years, leaving his monstrous instincts salivating and wild. the pain of starvation he brings himself to, in fear of hurting others, has weakened him, but his hunt didn't cease for a moment. it made him crave it, the essence of someone who could fulfill his devilish needs, and the warmth his insides long yearned for.

the mark on his pelvis had gone dull, and it ached more with each passing day.

baizhu usually relied on medicine he had made for himself. to keep his salacious desires at bay, and though it wasn't much of the real deal, it managed to keep his body relatively healthy without the base nutrients it required for his succubus blood, and it truly helped him for the longest time.

but it has been years since he had feasted on someone's precious essence, and baizhu has diligently refused to feed again. while his nature is uncouth, his heart remains pure, and he worries that if he tries to feed again, he will hurt them, despite hurting himself.

but this time, his hunger was different.

it was an ardent need. essential. his body reacted so negatively, rendering him unable to properly work for days. it was clear that his body was demanding him to go and hunt for food, so it could sustain itself properly. perhaps after feeding once, he could go back to his regular intake of pills.

for now, he searched for a feast.

and, indeed, he found it, inside a familiar house.

your home,

and you were sleeping inside your bedroom,

a succubus' meal.

if he were to do it with anyone, it would be you, as much as he didn't want to.

you were a sweet man, always visiting him and qiqi in bubu pharmacy and offering a hand whenever you were free. you get along with just about everyone in the pharmacy; being old friends with gui, helping qiqi with deliveries—even changsheng has taken a liking to you, slithering onto your arm when you step behind the counter with baizhu, giving you a warm welcome.

he can't help but find himself falling for such a man like you.

and he absolutely hates the fact that the only person he'd feel safe within such a vulnerable state is you. he could kill you, and he would never forgive himself if he got carried away.

you were too precious to him. but he was starving.

it greatly intensified once he took a step inside your room, almost salivating the moment he inhaled your scent. archons, he smelt you everywhere, it was almost suffocating. and he had never smelt something so divine, so pungent, he was slightly aware of how his thoughts were slowly getting muddled—he admired you as you slept, chest steadily rose and fell, soft snores from your parted lips. you looked so peaceful, and yet here he was, hovering above your unsuspecting form, biting his bottom lip and his hands trembling as he held back from touching you so soon.

you began to stir on your bed when baizhu turned off your lamp, a faint hiss that was dangerously close to your ear made you blearily open your eyes in the dead of night, the weight of your bed shifting to one side more as you felt something move right beside you.

quickly, you jolt from your bed, startled at the man beside you. a scream almost leaves your lips when he leans towards you, face inches apart, his hot breath hitting your skin. "don't worry," he murmurs, voice silky smooth, so sultry it made your skin crawl, cheeks flushed as he moves even closer to you. "i won't hurt you, i just... need some help, is all."

the man before you reassures, his cool fingertips tracing your jawline, sharpened nails digging slightly into your skin. baizhu knows that if he suggests that he needs help, even though he was a stranger breaking into your home, you'd assist him. perhaps the charm he was using in his voice also helped, considering your eyes have easily succumbed to his mesmerizing haze of seduction.

all it took for him was to speak with his voice in a low, alluring tone, press his lithe, and smooth body against yours, allowing your hands to glide onto the skin of his exposed belly and touch you like he owns you—teasing you with assurances of bliss, only to pull away. like bait attached to a string, luring you into his possessive hands.

baizhu almost lost himself in his desire for you, his heart pounding and the mark on his womb ached more than ever before. he craved to have you inside him, nearly jumping on you and just taking you then and there.

but gods, baizhu's love for you was the only thing that was holding him back, so he settled on peppering wet kisses on your quivering adam's apple, his hand rubbing your thigh. "you'll help me, right?" he hums, golden irises glowing faintly in the dark. he sees you squint as if you're trying to discern who he is—he was probably oddly familiar to you, considering his voice and the shape of his body were similar to the kindhearted doctor from the local pharmacy not too far away from your home...

your thoughts were chased away when his forked tongue flickered against your lips, suddenly aware of his... unnatural features. slitted, but gorgeous golden eyes, scales on certain parts of his skin, small horns, akin to bumps, that protruded from his forehead, a tail with a heart-shaped tip, and fangs that made your heart lurch at both fear and excitement.

"i've been starving for an awfully long time..." he whispers into your ear, his hand slowly creeping inside your shirt and card his nails onto your stomach, soliciting a small whimper from your throat. baizhu almost moans in delight at the wonderful sound. "you'll feed me, right? let me regain my strength?"

slowly, you nod, hand resting on his shoulder. "y-yeah," you manage to say, still trying to make out any of his features in the dark. "i can cook you something real quick-"

"oh no, you're quite mistaken." he purrs, licking his lips as his hand begins to lower itself down to your crotch. "you see, darling, i'm a succubus." he hears your breath hitch at his confession, his lips brushing against yours as he pins you against the headboard, straddling your lap. strands of his hair fall to your face, your hands feel as if it belongs on his slender waist as you grab hold of it, his eyes gleam brightly with lust as he looks down at you and lifts your chin to stare back into his bewitching face. "i'll need a different kind of sustenance...~"

even in the dark, you can tell that he is absolutely gorgeous as if the gods themselves carved him into existence. your grip tightens, so much so that your nails leave crescent-shaped indents.

baizhu was experiencing absolute heaven, and the both of you were still fully clothed. his heart was beating so hard against his chest that he was afraid you could feel it if he pressed his body against yours. he was smiling ear to ear in excitement, and he fought hard to hold back. his body was in a love-struck frenzy, skin hot to the touch and his cheeks flaming red, his tail flicking back and forth.

oh, he never would've expected to have you like this so soon. underneath him, looking up at him with those lovely eyes, lost, but still so eager to help. if you only knew the things you do to him...

he could see your hesitance, probably thinking about the risks of indulging in a succubus' request. it was understandable, honestly, even though baizhu was in complete control of his body, he could still put your life at risk. after all, he hasn't eaten in years.

"you won't die," he murmurs almost too sweetly, his voice making your poor, charmed mind buzz pleasantly. "that's a promise~" thankfully, you could still make coherent thoughts, shooting him a serious look, hands curiously tracing the sensitive mark on his pelvis that glowed in the dark. he hums at the feeling of your fingers, gently pressing and kneading, yet it burned ferociously with ardent need. gods, his body needed you now.

"if you say so...." you whisper back, nervous, "i put my trust in you, if it meant helping you..."

so as soon as those words left your lips, baizhu grabbed you by the collar and smashed your lips together, kissing you so hard that it felt like he was devouring you. teeth clashed against each other, his fangs sank onto the fragile skin of your bottom lip, making it bleed, and he sucks on your tongue, kissing and practically taking all the air out of your lungs.

baizhu was ecstatic, swallowing the lavish taste of your blood, drinking in all the whimpers and moans you make just from the addicting kiss. your hands were now on his ass, guiding his body and grinding his crotch onto your hardening cock. when he pulls away, he pants, moving his hips languidly to meet your thrusts, absolutely enamored at the string of saliva that connected the two of you.

"you shouldn't trust so easily," baizhu warns, cradling your head into his arms, his kisses never ceasing, making sure to attach his lips to every inch of your skin. he wants to savor every single second he spends with you, loving your body, getting a taste of something so sacred, you, that he would surely grow to yearn once this is all over. "if it were another succubus, you might not be treated as nicely as i have~"

his voice put you in a hypnotic trance, eyes trailing down his body as your hands moved on their own, stripping him bare from his clothing. fingers, featherlight and delicate, trailed the scars that adorned his chest, the tantalizing feeling of your hot breath on his nipple while your hand pinched and flicked his other. "there's just... something so familiar about you." you murmur against his skin, pressing the pad of your wet and hot tongue against his perky bud, making baizhu let out a pleased sigh, hand grabbing the back of your head. your mind was clouded with his drowning lust to recognize him, but still awake enough to think. "you know me, and... i know you."

baizhu felt his heart drop, the urge to run away and find someone else to feed him gnawed at his stomach. he would rather starve than let himself be known to you; him, a succubus, seducing you to do his bidding. baizhu longed to have you in his bed, to make love to you and have you all for himself, to call you his, and call himself yours. just—not like this!

and as if you could sense his inner turmoil, you gently turned your bodies, laying him down on your bed. you kissed the tip of his nose, down to the apple of his cheeks, the corners of his bloodied lips, and onto his chin. you kissed him like he was a masterpiece to be worshipped, hands stroking his supple skin. he could see the admiration in your eyes, sparkling from the slightest of light the moon provided that seeped through your curtains.

and while baizhu couldn't tell if it was all because of his hypnotizing charm, his heart skipped a beat.

then, you grab his hand, lips brushing against his knuckles and kissing the callouses that graced his fingertips. "i feel safe, for some reason." you continued, leaning back to take off your clothes. "like we have met before, and you are company i enjoy myself a lot with... isn't that weird, stranger?"

baizhu could hear the slight recognition in your voice, but his initial fear was forgotten when he felt your cock pressed against his thigh. his body immediately reacted to your warmth, moving his hips to feel more of you, against his desperate, aching hole. stars above, it is so much bigger than he anticipated, your drooling tip smearing pre all over this thigh, and baizhu gulps at the groans that rumble from your chest.

it hurt to have you so close, yet so far, so empty despite the promise of being filled. still, baizhu managed to find his voice to reply. "o-oh, certainly. i am a succubus after all," he tried to regain the flair in his tone, to keep you enraptured to his hidden beauty, delude you into thinking that he wasn't the same man you thought he was, "a demon, monster."

though it was dark, baizhu saw your lips curve downward, frowning at his harsh words. your hands slid from his waist, down to the back of his thighs, squeezing the flesh, before parting his legs and letting him wrap them around your waist, keeping the two of you connected until the succubus that lays before your bed decided he had enough.

you were completely at his mercy, and it made you impossibly harder.

gently, as if he was your lover, you pushed back a strand of his hair behind his pointed ear, fingers lingering on the shape of his concealed, yet beautiful face. "don't speak to yourself like that," you kiss his collarbones, and feel him squeeze you between his legs a little tighter, pulling you closer to him, "it breaks my heart."

"does it now?" baizhu quips, sharp, quick, defensive, and disbelieving. "you don't even know me."

"you still have feelings, don't you?"

baizhu's heart can't take it. it feels so full, about to explode, despite the agonizing emptiness of his hole, thighs quivering and hands clinging onto you. he feels breathless, heartbeat in his throat—you're treating him how you'd treat baizhu, the caring doctor of bubu pharmacy, not the succubus trying to get you to fuck him. you don't know who he was, he was certain of it.

but perhaps he was just in denial, too afraid to let someone as good as you be so close to him. you are deserving of more, someone who can be devoted to you, as much as you are to him. he can't bear the thought of you leaving him once he has taken grasp of immortality, growing old without him as he lives on. nor the burden you'll surely carry with him.

that is why he has never made a single move to you, nor acknowledged yours. he adores you from afar, breaking his own heart by keeping himself close to you despite knowing he can never be with you—his mission won't allow it. he can't let it happen.

but oh, when you hold him so tenderly in your arms, caressing his cheeks with your thumb and kissing him so sweetly, it feels like the walls he has built specifically to keep you away from his heart, fall apart so easily.

"if you're a monster, then why do you talk so gently to me?" you whisper, and the hairs of his skin stand, sharp nails digging onto your skin. "so careful of my body, asking me for consent, even though you're salivating in hunger."

the smile you gave him made baizhu fall in love with you all over again, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. "i think you are quite nice, person that i totally don't recognize." a soft chuckle escapes your lips, and it eases him how comfortable you were, worries melting into nothingness. "so please, tell me what i need to do to help you."

ah, he was so weak for you. baizhu wraps an arm around your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to him, capturing your lips once against with his. "then you better start fucking me," he demands, his other hand scoops the slick his body has been producing wildly, copious amounts in his hand and coating your dick with it himself.

you lean down to his ear, letting him hear all of the lewd sounds that escape your lips as he squeezes your length, stroking it with his experienced hands, and grazing his nails on a thick, bulging vein that makes you whimper onto his neck. you quickly caught on that he enjoyed your noises. his wetness felt cool on your throbbing cock, the squelch of each movement of his hand making you tremble above him, burying your nose onto his shoulder as he coos your name and played with your cock.

maybe you were just extra sensitive because you were... inexperienced... but there was something odd about his wetness. it made your dick tingle, ache, and burned fervidly. you felt lightheaded all of a sudden, your mind and body screaming at you to just have your cock inside of him.

it must be one of his succubus traits, you gulped nervously.

you were so cute, so pliant, despite having him underneath you. a surge of pride swells in his chest, digging his thumb onto your weeping slit, thoroughly satisfied at the moan that came from your trembling lips. he felt himself grow hungrier when you moved your head back, gazing at him with enchanted, half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, and parted lips. baizhu has never felt so grateful for his night vision.

when his skillful hands lined up your cock to his hole, parting his glistening folds with your pulsating tip, you stop him for a moment, brows furrowed worriedly. "w-wait," you breathe, voice wavering, "what about you?"

baizhu merely laughs at your concern, cooing at you and caressing your cheeks, to which you leaned against his touch. "oh baby, you think i'd come here unprepared?" he chuckles, tone teasing as he pushes your cockhead into his awaiting hole while he thumbs your skin to soothe you, softening the creases that formed on your face. "now go ahead, put it in me, darling."

baizhu had bite down his bottom lip until he bled to stop himself from screaming, his back arched at the burning stretch as you slowly plunged your fat cock into his hole. no matter how much he prepared himself to take you, he still found himself getting split open by your sheer girth. he didn't expect you to be so big, his gummy walls fluttering around your throbbing cock.

you moaned, louder than before, when you bottomed out, patiently waiting for him to adjust to your length, like the gentleman you were, but you were grinding your hips against his. you clung tightly onto baizhu, overwhelmed at the warmth that surrounded your virgin cock as his pussy clamps down on you, sucking you in deeper.

all the while baizhu felt like he was high above the clouds, being stuffed full just by your dick inside of him—his body was elated, forked tongue poking out between his lips as he stared up at your eyes, full of lust and desire.

cursing underneath your breath, you grew weak on the knees, the blistering heat slowly spreading all over your body; from your stomach, crawling upwards and onto your chest, to the very tips of your toes. it was almost paralyzing, his insides squeezing your poor, sensitive cock, wrapped in mind-breaking euphoria.

"that's it," he sighs, pressing kisses all over your face, reassuring, though amused. "such a good boy, already so fucked out by just penetrating me?" baizhu smirks, his fingers playing with the curves of your face. you whine at his words, very embarrassed as you bury your face in his neck.

"hah- this feels-" you swallow a mouthful of saliva, panting and groaning at the foreign sensations, twitching and pulsing deep inside of him, "all i can think about is fucking you—it's your doing, right?"

baizhu bats his eyelashes innocently at you, tilting his head as he hums. "oh darling, you can't blame me for every nasty thought that invades your mind," he purrs teasingly, grinning playfully when you give him a huff. "i am flattered, though."

it didn't take long before baizhu told you to start moving. it started off slow, gentle, and unsure, eyes searching for baizhu's guidance. it made his heart soar at how adorable you were, pouting as you sloppily thrust into him, exerting much effort to not lose yourself in the pleasure. you wanted to please him, so attentive and caring to his body.

don't worry, baizhu is more than happy to tell you what to do. he taught you many things you never knew before, to angle your dick just right, hitting a spot buried deep inside of him that made him curl his toes and cry out in delight—to ram your fat cock into his sopping wet cunt as he clenches on you, bucking your hips fast and hard.

baizhu throws his head back, smiling and clawing at your biceps, leaving red, angry scratches on them. he moans your name, nothing but praise coming out of his plump lips and drowning your thoughts with addictive lust. "you're fucking into me soooo nicely, darling~" he gasped when you kept precisely hitting his sensitive spot, his walls spasming and convulsing around your ravishing cock.

you grasped his thighs, gripping on them so tightly it's bound to leave bruises as you follow his every order, fucking him just how he liked, the loud slapping of skin on skin filling your once peaceful bedroom. it turns you on further on how vile the wet squelch it makes at each thrust you give. you held onto him for your dear life, fucking him with all your strength, body trembling from the unbearable pleasure.

moaning and whimpering, your head hung as drool dripped down onto his chest, body compelled to keep moving. it felt so good, each drag of your cock inside of his velvety walls felt like fire onto your skin, each squeeze and grind, it's making you mad, completely hooked on the feeling.

"such an obedient pup," baizhu coos and you let out a whine at his praise, eyes wide and glittering with unshed tears, and his heart skips a beat when he saw how easily fucked out you were. "does it feel good? hm? my pussy feels good around your cock?" you nod vigorously, leaning closer to him and angling yourself to reach even deeper. it made baizhu take a sharp intake of air, moaning obscenely into your ear.

"f-fuuckk! hgnn~ c-c'mon, use your words~" he smiles when you choke on a moan, never stopping your movements even for a second. "you're a good boy, aren't you? i know you can do it, talk to me~"

"s-stop-" you heaved, voice garbled as you tried to speak between your filthy sounds, nails digging into his skin. his voice was like honey to your ears, drowning in the thick viscousness of his sickeningly sweet words, making it difficult for you to properly think. it was all too much, and he wasn't making it easy for you.

"oh? you don't like praise?" his golden eyes shone brightly, and his nails grazed your skin painfully, but you reveled in the pain, panting, and shaking as baizhu cupped your face into his hands. "how about i call you a filthy whore instead? wanting to fuck a succubus that could drain your life away~" he whispers into your ear with such a haughty lilt in his voice, tongue licking your earlobe.

even though he was getting fucked by your fat cock, drilling into his insides until it all felt like numbing mush, moaning in delight as he wraps his legs impossibly tighter around you, keeping you close and never letting you go, he has you under his control. it was as if he owned your body, and you would only obey him.

it made your head fuzzy just thinking about it.

"you like being told what to do, hm? like some mutt?"

his words were like electric shocks down your spine, you couldn't help but pound harder into his warm, addicting cunt, a cry leaving your lips when he clamped down onto your cock once more. like a hand, gripping tightly onto something he owns, and in this case, your cock belongs to his pussy.

"oh my!" he grits his teeth as he lets out a long, drawn-out moan, pulling your head to his chest as he rolls his eyes back. "shit, hnff- t-that god you more excited, huh? so pussy drunk that you're only thinking with your dick~"

suddenly, you let out a shout, squeezing your eyes shut and burying as deep as you could inside of baizhu, a tear rolling down your cheek as you shot thick ropes of your cum straight into his starving womb. and oh, baizhu took it all, a small, joyous yes yes yes! leaving his lips as he moved his hips against yours, not giving you a moment's rest as he fucks himself onto you.

you didn't know what came over you after you orgasmed into his welcoming pussy, but when the mark on his womb glowed a vibrant green, your body kept moving on its own, despite the sting of overstimulation overcoming your senses. you fucked him, again and again, pressing the pad of your thumb against his clit and fiercely rubbing it as you burrow into him, mind blank.

your body shivered, sobbing and drooling as you absentmindedly followed baizhu's every command, twitching and burning from the numbing pleasure, yet your body refused to stop, even after you've come numerous amounts of times inside of him.

baizhu's hair became a mess as he greedily took every load you'd spilled, absolutely obsessed at the warmth of your seed filling up his insides and forming a creamy ring on your cock. you looked so handsome crying, begging him for a break, and that you can't take it anymore.

despite this, you let him milk your cock for all it's worth, pumping him full until it leaks out of his hole, his ankles were now resting on your shoulders. you were so lost in the pleasure, hiccuping as you cum again for the nth time.

just one more, he promised, though he pushed you back, turning your bodies around so baizhu was straddling your lap. he began to ride you, with expert movements that had you mewling, your arm covering your face, moaning into the night, holding no regards for your neighbors through your thin walls.

his nails marked your chest, making it bleed along his scratches, grinding his hips onto yours. gods, you felt so fucking good, it was difficult for him to pull away. your length and girth were just perfect, his blood boiling in thrill and excitement just by having you inside of him. he wanted more and more, drinking in as much as you could give him. your essence was just so delectable, irresistible. it was all he could ever want to eat.

you moan in sync, watching baizhu as he arches his back so prettily on top of you, creaming around your cock. you could tell he was just as sensitive as you were, but his hips ceased to stop. shakily, you reached for his tail, which possessively curled around your fingers.

gently, as you always are, you kiss the heart-shaped tip of his tail, watery eyes, so unfocused, but stared into baizhu's eyes, so full of tenderness that it snapped him out of his frenzied stupor.

baizhu gasps, cradling your face into his hands as he frets over you when your head falls, catching your breath as if you've run a marathon. "oh archons," he calls your name, shaking you lightly, "are you okay!? im so sorry, i didn't mean to- i got carried away!" hearing the distress in his voice, you only put your hand atop of his, kissing his palms and giving him an adoring smile.

"m'fine," you rasp, and before baizhu knows it, there was a faint click! right beside him, and light engulfs your room. your eyes light up when you finally see him, his eyes wide in shock. "hah, knew it was you."

"you-i-" instead of reacting how he always thought you would, as all others have, you grabbed his hands, and pressed long, loving kisses on each knuckle. baizhu's stomach was doing flips at each kind gesture, and he was now acutely aware of how he could feel your seed sloshing in his womb whenever he moved. his cheeks flush in embarrassment. "y-you weren't supposed to see me!" he glares at you, fangs bared threateningly.

though you can't bring yourself to fear him—not when he's panting, covered in sweat that gleamed at the orange light from your lamp, his face red, and eyes still full of carnal desire. but you know, behind his hunger, was nothing but love, adoring and fragile. "it's okay," you whisper as you sit yourself up, leaning back against the headboard, "it's okay to be seen."

your fingers twirled around a loose strand of his hair, planting a kiss on it while your eyes were on him, other hand caressing the ever-glowing mark on his swelling tummy. "please, let me see you." you kiss his jawline, and baizhu groans when you press onto his abdomen, so full—both of your lust and love. "let me love you."

his eyes burned as he let you wrap your arms around him, engulfing him in a hug he has long yearned from you. "go ahead, love," his skin crawls at the pet name, rolling so naturally from your tongue, so heavenly to his ears. "i know you still need more. i can take it."

baizhu has a lot of worries, especially concerning you. but at that moment, when you held him so tenderly, connected, with nothing but love in your gaze and a smile on your lips as you kissed him—it felt like everything was alright.

the world was nothing, and it was just the two of you, in each other's arms, lips locked; nothing could separate the two of you.

he may have fears, ones that will probably never go away for as long as he lives. but with you saying his name so softly, caressing his sensitive skin, and telling him it was okay for him to keep taking from you, despite your creeping exhaustion—he wants to have you by his side for a little longer, if not, forever.

because with you, baizhu thinks that everything will be fine.

"...just say you want more of me," he replies, hiding his face from you, to which you merely laughed at. "you freak... letting a succubus fuck you..."

"please, stop ignoring my heartfelt confessions and countering them with something mean," you pout, your thumb wiping away the stray tear that trailed down his cheek.

baizhu just pins you down, grinding his hips and making you roll your eyes, mouth open from a breathless moan. "keep quiet pet, i'm not done with you." he threatens, but you just smile,

"i love you."

gods, he hates how this all feels so normal with you, his poor heart that was boarded up in the beginning, all so vulnerable and raw before you.

but perhaps,

"...i love you too."

everything will be quite alright.

[gxbbyhoneybadger]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Predator x reader?

Leads to smut (0u0")

Where he breaks into he readers house/apartment for safety, he looks around and his heat sensors pick up the readers body heat.. He notices she's mostly defenseless but searchers her for weapons.. in the process he's touching her everywhere then leaves. he comes back a few nights later to see her and then BOOM SMUTTY SMUT!

This. . . This is just amazing! Ofc, and enjoy the treat. I'm gonna use Scar boy from AvP, he's my favorite Yautja out of them all heheheh. This is also my first monster/predator smut so. . . Please do be gentle with the comments if u don't approve 🥹

A/n: the Yautjas can roughly speak human languages, I'm using this from the end scene of Predator (1987) movie. I'll give them a reason to speak as well, don't worry. There's a plot for that lol.

Mission XXXIV-XXXV

Pairing: !Yautja!Scar x !F!Shy!Reader

Summary: After making an escape from the Alien Queen, Scar manages to hide away within an empty home—not knowing who was still there and wide awake. After finding and searching the shy human to make sure that she was no threat, she was rather aroused by the strange creature's lingering touches. When he leaves, he can't get the woman out of his mind, causing the Yautja to run back to where she was just a few nights later to finish what he had unintentionally started.

Warnings: Blood and gore, death, adult language, eventual smut, gentle sex (Scar a horny mf but he's a gentle giant imo), size kink, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it folks), fluff, anonymous ending.

Part 2

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

--

Many things happen for a reason, times of events line up for destruction or something wonderful. Not right now apparently, not for Scar. This was destruction, he wiped out the rampant Xenomorph younglings, now the Queen was left. She was raging with fury as she searched for the few Yautjas who were hiding and planning their ways to kill the unforgiving creature.

Scar was wounded—bleeding out the neon green substance from his left shoulder. He shouldn't have let his guard down, he could've spotted that one Xenomorph that leapt at him. At least he made it out alive, he'll make it back to his planet soon. He entered a home, it was dark but he used his mask to read the room. Everything was clear, before he saw the acidic burn on a book that fell onto the floor from the fallen bookshelf.

His guard was already on high alert, his weapon at hand as he slowly approached a broken door where he saw a tail of a Xenomorph lying lifeless. It was already dead, he scanned the room once more, this time using the heat sensor built within his mask. He caught the glowing body within the dark kitchen, the lights flickered on by her trembling hand. She seemed to stunned to even react by the giant watching her, her clothes were disheveled, a few cuts on her arms but not too much damage.

She didn't move from her place, still taking in who this was. "You're one of them. . ." She muttered before her eyes moved to the side. Scar followed her gaze and saw one of his fallen brothers dead in the corner, impaled through the chest most likely from the Xenomorph itself. His neon green blood coated his stilled chest and the ground beneath him.

". . . I didn't know. . . what to do. . . he tried to. . ." She whispered. Scar looked at the dead alien next, seeing that it's head and neck was severely wounded by one of the Yautjas weapons: A Wrist Scythe.

He looked to her and saw the weapon around her arm that she must've taken from the corpse to defend herself from the Xenomorph. "I-I'm s-so sorry. . ." She mumbled. His mandibles clicked as he lifted his hand and held out his index fingers, slowly circling his wrist—telling her to turn around. She read his silent command and turned around, dropping the Wrist Scythe she held behind her back as she rested her hands against the wall.

Scar scanned her body, reading the wounds she sustained as his large claws grazed over her smaller arms. His entire hand could wrap around her neck if he dare harmed her, but he was simply checking for any hidden weapons she may have carried. Gently letting his hands lower down from the sides of her breasts to her waist and hips, his large hands then clasped over her left thigh. The bridge between his thumb and index finger softly brushed against her sensitive nether regions.

She silently scolded herself to stop thinking about such disgusting thoughts, she didn't even know what this thing was or what was happening. Y/n was a shy person, not really out there in the dating or hookup life. But her thoughts were rather intrusive about this strange being that was touching her.

She felt her face heat up from the unintentional touch, he moved on and checked her other thigh—again, touching her nether regions. Palming around her calf before he stood back up and towered over her frame, his shadow completely swallowed her own. His large mitt held her left shoulder and turned her to face him. She followed his movement and let him scan her body.

He read her vitals and smelled something. . . Something rare for any Yautja to smell from a human, her very own arousal, her vitals showed that her heart was beating erratically, a sign of nervousness while her body heat rose significantly, her pupils widened as she looked away from him. She was healthy and stable, but aroused and nervous around him. Scar stepped back and looked at the fallen Yautja, Y/n slowly slid down the wall and sighed.

". . . Um. . . I. . . I'm Y/n. . . Not that, you'd need to know. . . or anything. . ." She said, Scar looked down at her, his dreadlocks hanging over his shoulders as he tilted his head. His mask translating her words into his own language, his understanding of the human languages and different types were vaguely known to his species. Only a rare few of Yautja elders knew the humans entire lot of languages by memory, no mask needed for translation.

Scar was learning bit by bit each day he spends on earth hunting down worthy opponents, and Bad Bloods. "You're hurt. . ." Her shying voice said, bringing Scar's attention back to her, "Your shoulder is bleeding. . . are. . . are you okay?"

Clicking his mandibles again, he grabbed the items he needed and started to clean his wound and patch it up. Y/n grunted as she stood up and wandered towards the dead Xenomorph, she watched it, lightly kicking it's leg to see if it really was dead. . . which it was.

After he finished patching his injury when he saw Y/n standing by the body. It twitched just a little bit caused her to jump back and squeak with fear, making Scar's mandibles click in a chuckling way at her reaction. She growled and kicked the body before looking at Scar who was checking outside for any sign of the Queen nearby. The coast was clear and he turned to pick up his fallen brother's body.

"W-Wait!" She gasped when he walked out of the door, he paused in his step and glanced at her as she stumbled out of her house while watching him with a tiny glimmer of appreciation. ". . . D-Do you have a name?" She asked him.

Scar didn't say or do anything as a response, he looked away and continued to walk away, leaving the girl alone.

~Three Days Later~

He couldn't stop thinking about her voice, her eyes, the shy voice and her smell. He refused to go back to her for three days, for those three days he still couldn't stop thinking about her. Her bravery to take on a Xenomorph, one that even a Yautja couldn't defeat.

His species never mated for life, they simply procreated to reproduce for their species. To grow more warriors for more hunts, their mating wasn't loving either. The females were known to be rough and quite deadly with the males, just making it out alive and injured was considered lucky after their mating.

But after that, they'd go their separate ways. Mating with others and every four hundred days, they'd all mate again for reproduction. But here was a Yautja, searching for the same female he had ran into by accident, a female who wasn't even a part of his species, no, of course, she was human. A species that was noteworthy of being their opponents to hunt and kill, perhaps even ally with.

But something. . . Something shined from this human, and it wasn't because of the thermal scan. This human, this female human of the human race killed a Xenomorph when one of his kind failed to do so. She wasn't a regular human, she was a warrior.

Scar quietly remained perched up in a tree as his scanners searched her house. The damaged parts of the house were cleaned up and repaired over the days, the light in her bedroom was the only thing on. There he saw her exit the restroom, wearing nothing but a towel around her body as she brushed through her semi-dried hair. She seemed low and lonely as she sat on her bed, not even hearing the camouflaged Predator entering her home.

~Y/n pov~

I turned and looked at my folded clothes to wear; it's been three days, whoever that creature was isn't coming back. I already know that's the truth, but it's so hard to accept. For those three days, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Those large hands, the claws, those dreadlocks and his large abs lining his abdomen. Fishnets on his legs, his large build, his tall height.

He couldn't be just six feet, he had to be close to seven at least. I felt stupid when I remembered how I touched myself last night, thinking about him in such erotic ways. I don't even know what he was or who he was, and yet there I was—finger fucking myself over him.

He didn't even answer me or anything, I don't even know if he had a name. I was more pissed off at myself as I stood to grab my clothes, I opened my shirt and sighed as I turned around. Gasping as I dropped the piece of clothing when my eyes landed on the behemoth in front of me. Him. . . It was him! He was here. . .

He was back. . . But. . . why? Shit, what is he going to do? Kill me? Finish whatever job he had to be here? He stepped forward and I couldn't move, I was either scared or really brave to face this giant. . . I highly doubt that I was brave, I was just petrified. I saw him raise his hand at me, was he going to strangle me? Break my neck? I closed my eyes and accepted my fate, maybe he'll make it quick.

But that anticipation was for nothing, I slightly gasped when his claw dragged against my cheekbone. I opened my eyes to see his fingers gentle caressing my skin with care, it really showed me how truly big he was. His hand could cover my entire face, I looked up at his metal covered mask, those dreadlocks were out of this world. Hesitance drowned my confidence as I lifted my hand towards him, slowly and steadily.

He didn't move or growl, that was a good sign. . . right?

I let the tip of my index finger brush one of his dreadlocks, he seemed to have shuddered from the contact. I moved my hand—thinking I did something to cause him discomfort, but that was debunked when his hand held my much smaller wrist. He brought it up to encircle one of his dreadlocks, it felt smooth, rubbery almost, fake to the touch. But it was real nonetheless.

"Y-You're back. . . Why did you come back?" I asked him with a stutter lining my words. I heard the familiar clicking come from behind his mask, I didn't understand what he was saying but I saw his hand lift towards the tubes connected to the side of his mask before pulling them out. A hiss of air was heard when his hand lifted the disguise.

I didn't know what to think when I saw his face, those large mandibles, sharp pointed teeth, sharp and deadly eyes. Never in my life have I seen a creature like him, this was an extraterrestrial level. Forget E.T, this guy definitely takes the cake. I lifted my hand and grazed my finger over his lower jaw mandibles, they clicked and spread open to reveal his teeth within.

I couldn't stop looking at him, but when I did I glanced at the towel I was wearing. My heart rate picked up as I argued back in forth in my head. What if this is truly the last time I ever see him? He'll be gone, what if he forgets about me? This is my only chance, I've never done this before, but this'll be one hell of a first time story for anyone to hear.

I closed my eyes and gulped before bringing my hand towards my towel, I looked back at the creature before pulling the cloth loose—feeling it fall down to my ankles and the cool air breeze across my bare breasts. I shuddered as the coolness, but kept my eyes on his. His clicking grew to a low growl, almost like a warning sign.

Did I read the signs wrong-? oh fuck! I can't even get a regular guy and here I am, not even getting a damn alien or whatever he was to—"Bee-U-Tiff-all. . ." His semi-audible voice growled out. I gasped at the wonder of his voice, it sounded like he tried to put the words together correctly, but with struggle of course. I grew a light smile as I placed my hand on his chest.

"I don't know. . . if you can understand what I'm saying but: you. . . are the most amazing thing I've ever seen walk the earth. . ." I said to him. His large calloused hand slithered up my arm and towards my neck, his thumb gently pushed my chin to look up at him. His large head tilted to the side as he used his unintelligible clicking to communicate to me.

"I don't understand what you're saying. . . But if you mean. . ." I glanced at my bed then back at him, I took his hand and led him near it before I let him go, crawling backwards on the bed and watched him, "If I'm misinterpreting whatever you're trying to say. . . Then I'm sorry. . . But if I'm right. . . Then can you. . . be gentle? I-I've never. . . did this." I mumbled awkwardly.

He seemed to have understood that rather quickly when he held my ankle and lifted it, like he was examining my skin before he rested his knee on the bed. Pulling me closer and spreading my legs, I whimpered at my exposed place. He's ten times my size, yet he's being gentle as he could be. Maybe this will feel good like my friends say.

~~~

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Not good! Oh fuck! I was laying on my stomach, my ass was perched up and this thing was hovering over my back while his unnatural massive cock was prodding at my unexplored entrance. His hands were locked on my waist as he rubbed himself against me, I mewled from the sensation, it was some sort of friction for me.

He was so big, I was terrified on how he'll even make it fit inside of me. I'll barely get the tip in alone! Without warning me, he turned me over on my back again and knelt on the ground. He held my thighs open before letting his forked tongue run over my clit—there I gasped as I clenched the bedsheets.

"Ah!" I moaned, it was a strange feeling, but it felt good. I heard his growling rumbling within his chest as his hands squeezed my thighs. I wanted to touch him, but I wasn't sure of what he was comfortable with so I kept my hands to myself. I felt his mandibles slightly dif into my pelvic area as his lower ones cupped the backs of my rear, his tongue then slithered inside of my glistening petals and through my cunt.

My legs started to shake when his tongue flickered over my clit as he started to tease my labia. I felt my sweat beginning to form over my chest and forehead, I started to feel the tightening string building inside of me. He fully plunged his tongue deeper inside of me and struck the cord—my back lifting off the bed as I bit my hand to not moan out loud. With trembling legs and the flash of white blurring my vision, I didn't even see or feel him turn me back over on my stomach.

But I did feel that initial sting when his cock pushed into me, I used my pillow to squeal into as he added more pressure. Slowly but surely breaking through my hymen, my tears started to sting my eyes as his hands pushed down my shoulder—making my chest lay flat on the bed as I endured it.

His cock was large, too large, it filled me up as he started to slowly thrust, each thrust made his length dig deeper inside of me. I choked on my whimper as he slammed against my cervix, "FUCK!" I screamed out. He remained still and lowly purred beside my head, not moving and letting me adjust to the sheer size of him. My knuckles turned white as I clenched the sheets, I whined when he slightly moved. He was growling while letting his hands touch my body, I felt his dreadlocks drag across my skin.

After a minute or so, he slowly pulled back and pushed forward. Filling me again, he surely reached the deepest parts of me. Mewls and gasps came from me as he continued with his slow motions, rolling his hips into me and growling, letting out snarls and purrs as he clenched my hips—his claws digging into my skin to resist the urge to go faster. I appreciated the thought, but was terrified if he did let loose on me.

"Ah, Ngh! K-keep goi-NG!" I moaned while hugging my pillow with tears. I felt my sweat beginning to coat my forehead and my back, I felt him lower down and lick the shell of my ear with his forked tongue. A whimper flowed from my lips when he picked up the pace just a bit, I could feel his balls hitting my clit just right. They were so big slapping against me; I choked on my air when he pulled me up on his chest.

He hugged my waist and started to thrust into me again, I reached towards one of his locks and brought it to my lips to kiss. He roared and started to grope my breasts while thrusting quicker, each thrust was heavy and deep. His scale like arms held me tight, his claws tracing over my nipples as his mandibles clicked right next to my ear.

My body felt like it was going to split in half from his cock, I was shocked by my moaning and my begging for more of him. I held his arm while I shut my eyes to enjoy this overriding pleasure, my orgasm was approaching as he continued to grind against me. He laid me down again and snarled—digging his nails into my flesh as he restrained himself, I bit the pillow and squealed when the ball tightening within me snapped.

My back arched as I pushed against him, moaning as I felt my desire squirt out of me. That white bliss glossed over my vision, leaving small black dots to see as he continued to grind against me. He didn't stop, his thrusting grew more intense as he clawed at the sheets to avoid harming me—I covered my ears when he roared out. Then gasping when he finished inside of me.

It felt warm, and thick—I could feel his thick desire coating the walls of my uterus and filling my cunt to the brim. His dreadlocks were dragging over my shoulders as he slowly got up from me, I winced feeling him pull out from me. I felt his cum leaking out of me. I felt so tired, drained of all my energy.

His arms gently turned me over, my eyes felt droopy, they started to close when I felt him cover me with a blanket and pick me up before his deep voice growled out, "Sc—aar."

Unaware of where he was taking me. I don't know how long I was out but I was still sleeping. Until I heard more clicking and snarls from other creatures near me.

_____________________________________

I hope you enjoyed the smut! Feel free to follow and request for ur own!

[tkingfisher]

So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?

How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?

Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3

*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.

But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.

Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.

Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.

Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)

There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.

In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)

Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.

This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?

Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)

For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.

You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.

(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)

Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.

At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.

(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)

So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.

Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.

(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)

[probablyasocialecologist]

As environmental, social and humanitarian crises escalate, the world can no longer afford two things: first, the costs of economic inequality; and second, the rich. Between 2020 and 2022, the world’s most affluent 1% of people captured nearly twice as much of the new global wealth created as did the other 99% of individuals put together, and in 2019 they emitted as much carbon dioxide as the poorest two-thirds of humanity. In the decade to 2022, the world’s billionaires more than doubled their wealth, to almost US$12 trillion. The evidence gathered by social epidemiologists, including us, shows that large differences in income are a powerful social stressor that is increasingly rendering societies dysfunctional. For example, bigger gaps between rich and poor are accompanied by higher rates of homicide and imprisonment. They also correspond to more infant mortality, obesity, drug abuse and COVID-19 deaths, as well as higher rates of teenage pregnancy and lower levels of child well-being, social mobility and public trust. The homicide rate in the United States — the most unequal Western democracy — is more than 11 times that in Norway. Imprisonment rates are ten times as high, and infant mortality and obesity rates twice as high.

[...]

Our work has shown that the amount spent on advertising as a proportion of gross domestic product is higher in countries with greater inequality. The well-publicized lifestyles of the rich promote standards and ways of living that others seek to emulate, triggering cascades of expenditure for holiday homes, swimming pools, travel, clothes and expensive cars. Oxfam reports that, on average, each of the richest 1% of people in the world produces 100 times the emissions of the average person in the poorest half of the world’s population. That is the scale of the injustice. As poorer countries raise their material standards, the rich will have to lower theirs.

[...]

The scientific evidence is stark that reducing inequality is a fundamental precondition for addressing the environmental, health and social crises the world is facing. It’s essential that policymakers act quickly to reverse decades of rising inequality and curb the highest incomes.

[eoieopda]

the one with mingyu and the twin bed

summary: you brought your boyfriend to your parents’ house for christmas dinner. he can’t get a grip because you can’t keep yours to yourself. pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader type: drabble (smut) | rating: 18+ | wc: 3.5k au: est. relationship, home for the holidays cw: teasing, teasing, teasing; unprotected sex; mingyu is a pouty lil simp; multiple orgasms; reader rides it like she stole it and has to keep him quiet in the process :’) a/n: nobody asked, i just have mingyu brain rot 🥲 🚨 MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS WHO INTERACT WITH MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED. MY WORK IS NOT FOR YOU.

You might kill him. And really, if that’s not your goal, it’s still the most likely result. This road you’ve chosen starts with a squeeze of his knee under the table, travels up his thigh and — well, Mingyu can imagine how it ends, but not when or where. That’s the problem.

Well, that’s the primary problem. 

The worst part about it all is that you look so unbothered by it all. You’re laughing through conversation with your parents, who sit on the opposite side of the table, like Mingyu isn’t on the brink of passing the fuck out beside you. Like his slacks aren’t squeezing the life out of him in the same torturous way your hand is. 

You’re moving so slowly that the table cloth doesn’t even flutter with your secret ministrations.

He knew you were a devil, but what fresh hell is this?

“— feeling okay?”

Mingyu has to blink himself back into reality to realize he’d been spoken to. Your father, who Mingyu had thankfully met before tonight — and made a positive, sustainable first impression on — looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow the same way yours do when you’re worried.

“Sorry,” Mingyu starts by clearing his throat. He flashes a smile that makes your mother blush, not unlike the way you usually do. “I was daydreaming about that galbi jjim from earlier. Don’t know if I’ll ever eat better.”

That’s a lie, he thinks immediately. Dessert is one seat over, fingertips whispering over his inseam, and Mingyu’s mouth is already watering at the thought. But he’s stuck. You’re untouchable as long as the pair of you are at this table, and you’re untouchable upstairs for more reasons than one. 

Your mother is flustered — so is Mingyu, but for an entirely different reason — and she glances up at your father. His smile is a flat line, but it reads like approval. She elbows him gently.

“See, yeobo?” She quips, “I told you he was charming.” 

Then, she turns to look at you with a firm nod. “You picked well.”

“To be clear, Mingyu picked me,” You laugh, waving your free hand dismissively.  “With the amount of girls queuing up for his attention, he had options — a lot of them. I just lucked out.”

At this, he short-circuits, so much so that he nearly sprays the wine he’s sipping all over the table and your unsuspecting parents. 

“Oh, no, no. Not even close,” He sputters, earning a surprised giggle from your mother. Faked offense pulls the corners of his mouth down, puckers his lips into an pout around his words. “I had to beg for your phone number, if I recall —”

“Did you really?” Your mother gasps. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, as if she’s watching one of the daytime dramas she’s always talking about.

Your father looks smug as he reaches his arm out over the table, fingers closed over his palm. The hand you aren’t using to commit unspeakable crimes lifts to meet his fist over the acorn jelly, knuckles tapping lightly. 

Your father smirks, “That’s my girl.”

You look at Mingyu fully now, not from the corner of your eye the way you had been. It’s downright spooky how your face can look that innocent at a time like this. That is, until you bite down on your plush lower lip.

Fuck.

Is he about to faint? He really might faint.

“Okay, fine. You’re right,” You demur with a shrug.

That sweet smile of yours is unbelievably misleading, but goddamn, does it look good on you.

“I didn’t make it very easy for you, did I?” 

He tries not to clench his jaw when you flatten your palm and squeeze the highest, innermost part of his thigh. He fails miserably. After all, you’re running out of real estate; and Mingyu’s running out of resolve. 

This is it for me, he thinks. Remember me as I was: a fucking simp.

Thankfully, both of your parents stand up to carry dishes off to be washed. They cross the threshold into the kitchen and miss the way Mingyu’s head slumps back against his chair. So desperate and defeated, he ignores the way his skull aches after colliding with the oak backrest.

He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the sweet release of death.

When their footfalls are no longer audible, Mingyu assumes they’re out of sight. You shift, but he doesn’t crack his eyes open until he feels the heat of your breath on the shell of his ear. His gaze locks on the ceiling when you whisper, “Can you blame me? It’s so cute when you beg.”

If his dick strains any harder against his pants, the zipper may break.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Mingyu gulps. He shakes his head, voice wavering. “Baby, I’m gonna drop dead in your childhood home — on Christmas, no less — and it’s gonna be all your fault.”

The tip of your nose nudges the side of his face as you place a kiss on his earlobe. The white knuckle grip he holds on the edge of the table is the only thing keeping him together, and you know it. Still, the feather-light touch of your fingertips finds what it’s after. They trace the outline of his bulge through his slacks, and before he can stop himself, Mingyu audibly sighs.

He’d tell you to stop if he could jumpstart his brain. That’s a lie, he corrects himself. He doesn’t want you to stop; he just wants you. Wants you so badly that it hurts.

“Attempted murder,” Mingyu mumbles helplessly.

God, he’s pathetic.

Head slumped to the side, he finally allows himself to look at you. Immediately, he has to wonder: is there anyone who wouldn’t beg for you? He’d be on his knees in a heartbeat if your parents weren’t loading a dishwasher, several meters away. He’d clear the table himself, too,  if sweeping his arm overtop and sending silverware to the ground counted for anything.

Unbothered by the internal crisis you’ve started in him, you stroke him slowly, like you have all the time in the world to end him; and not a care at all that you might get caught in the process. The kiss you leave on his jaw is so soft — and so laughably chaste, all things considered — that he’s not sure it even happened. To keep from pleading out loud, he grinds his teeth even more harshly together.

Are you there, God? It’s me, Mingyu.

His prayers are answered immediately, which makes him a little bit suspicious — and a lot more feral.

You hum, amusement downright musical, and he shivers. “I’m going to help them finish down here. Wait for me upstairs?”

When Mingyu shoots up to his feet, the force of his thighs against the underside of the table threatens to flip it. The remaining wine glasses wobble in place, but thankfully, you’d all killed the bottle some time ago; no drop is left to be spilled. He still cringes at the close call, though. With a grimace, he mutters rapid-fire apologies — whether to you, the glassware, or the God of Dirty Thoughts, he’s not sure. 

You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from laughing, which Mingyu appreciates. His clumsiness would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t so incomprehensibly horny. All that blood flow has been redirected away from his brain, though, and his dirty mind can’t focus on how not cool he’s being about all of this. 

Just you, that little smirk on your lips, and the million ways he wants your mouth on him.

Once he steadies himself, it only takes a second for Mingyu to race towards the stairs. Any and all chill he might’ve had is left behind him in a cloud of dust.

It’s downright cartoonish, the way he scrambles up the steps — stumbling, knees colliding with the hardwood as he goes — but it’s effective. He reaches the landing in record time, then all but kicks open the door to your childhood bedroom. As soon as the doorknob collides with the wall behind it, Mingyu freezes in place.

That wall, he realizes, is the only barrier between your room and your parents’. Worse, your old bed is set longways against that very wall. And because the hits just keep on coming, it’s a twin bed. 

With a frilly purple duvet and shockingly minimal surface area, no less.

Horrified, Mingyu steps forward and places his hand flat against the small mattress. It doesn’t take much pressure to make the bed springs squeak — when has anything ever gone his way? — and that revelation nearly has him screaming obscenities at the ceiling.

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

How is he supposed to fuck you under these conditions?

Frantic, he closes the door behind him, shuffles forward, and drops to his knees next to the bed. At his height, the frame barely reaches his midriff. Clearly, his life is a fucking joke.

Elbows now resting on the mattress, Mingyu clasps his hands together and leans forward to rest his forehead against his knuckles.

He’s never tried this before — not earnestly, anyway — and he doesn’t know where to start. Whatever the reason, he’s sure he can’t pray to any listening deity to let him get his dick wet. Anyone who hears his cry would smite him on the spot, he thinks, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Before he can settle on a prayer, footsteps sound off on the stairs just outside the door. The words are muffled; but there are multiple voices, which tells him that one or both of your parents have joined you on your journey upstairs. Suddenly, Mingyu is overcome with guilt. 

He’s in their home, having eaten their food — and now he’s a full-blown heretic, wanting nothing more than to devour their daughter like a man starved. But he can’t because, if he does, they’ll hear every dirty detail and —

Mingyu is many things, but he is not quiet.

You are, however, and he can barely make it out when you say, “Thank you, again, for dinner. And for letting us stay overnight.”

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Your mother peeps. Mingyu freezes, knowing in the rational part of his brain she can’t see him, but unable to stop himself. “It’s our pleasure! Really, it’s a long drive back for you two —”

Your father interjects, “— and Mingyu must be exhausted if he’s already in bed.”

For personal reasons, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut, I will be passing away.

There’s a moment of silence in which you must be hugging your parents goodnight, then there’s the quiet creak of the door opening. Footsteps, then more silence — you pausing for a moment, likely taking in the sight of him, then the door shutting softly behind you.

He can’t hear your approach over the hammering pulse in his ears, but he can feel the warmth of your body when you stand closely behind him. On instinct, he leans back onto his heels. A reflex of your own, you card your fingers through his hair and turn him into putty.

As embarrassing as it is to reckon with the fact, Mingyu acknowledges that the massage of your fingers might make him cum in his trousers.

“Were you praying?” You whisper, giggle evident despite the hushed tone. Your fingernails rake gently over his scalp; he swallows hard.

Mingyu is past the point of attempting nonchalance, so he confesses immediately. “Need divine intervention at a time like this. A twin bed? Parents? I’m doomed.”

“Maybe.” You lean down over his shoulder to purr into his ear. “Doomed or not, you look so perfect on your knees.”

That comment reverberates down his spine, ricochets off every vertebrae as it goes. He has to bite down on his fist to keep from groaning. It sure as shit doesn’t stop his eyes from rolling back in his head.

You drop your hand from his hair to trail your fingers down the length of his neck, then across the top of his shoulder. As you do, you step out from behind him and into his line of sight. You, illuminated only by a small, butterfly-shaped lamp, confirm his suspicions:

Ariana Grande was right all along. God is a woman.

You maintain eye contact as you reach behind your back and begin unzipping your dress. The burgundy fabric pools at your bare feet, having slipped right over the silkiness of your thighs without issue. If he wasn’t already in his knees, Mingyu would’ve dropped the same way.

“How confident are you that you can be quiet?” You ask softly. “Stakes are high, and you’re normally so vocal.”

Right out of the gate, he trips.

Mingyu responds with bravado and without whispering, “I can do it.”

Then, he slaps his hand over his big fucking mouth.

Biting back a smile, you reach out for the collar of his shirt. The buttons are undone with care, like any and every decibel is too much of a risk. You hum as you continue your work, “We can make it a challenge, then. If you can stay quiet, I’ll let you cum.” 

He lets you slide his shirt off his frame as soon as you’re finished with it. It lands where your dress did, wrinkling white on top of red.

“If you can’t  —” You pause and gesture down to his belt buckle, which he’s already gripping tightly to. It’s undone before you can blink, which causes the side of your mouth to twitch upwards. “— I’ll stop.”

Mingyu nods, more determined than he’s ever been, and pushes himself to his feet. Less nimbly than you, he fumbles desperately with the button and zipper at the top of his trousers. Eventually, he frees himself and they drop, too. They land with a muffled sound before being kicked blindly aside.

Your gaze drops to his briefs, pupils dilating when you see the mess you’ve made of him. The dark grey fabric is close to black at the tip of his dick, arousal seeping into the fibers and tattling on him. That is, if the blatantly thick imprint of his length hadn’t sold him out already.

His knees threaten to buckle all over again when he sees a flash of pink swipe over your lips, wetting them as your eyes grow even darker.

No, he really might cum on the spot.

You step over your discarded clothes. Closing the distance, you flatten your palms against his bare chest, push up on your toes, and kiss him properly for the first time in hours. His only instinct is to whine like a fucking baby when his lips part and you lick into his mouth, but he refuses to break this close to the starting whistle.

No, Mingyu will keep his shit together. He has to keep his shit together — even as you suck his bottom lip into your mouth and release it swollen with a pop.

“What do you want, baby?”

He doesn’t know if it’s his chest or your hands that are burning up, but a wildfire spreads as you run your palms down from his pectorals to his abdomen. Every muscle in his body tenses as your touch lowers. His lungs seem to, too, because he struggles to keep his breaths even.

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his briefs, knuckles tickling against the sensitive skin underneath his hip bones. You continue your questioning, as if he trusts himself to answer.

“My mouth?”

Oh god.

He wants it all, always and every which way, but he knows he won’t last a goddamn second in your throat — and you know it, too, even before he furiously shakes his head. 

Eyes laser focused on you, he does his best to beg without words. The puppy-dog eyes win you over every time.

When you smile at him like that — petal soft, still so devilish — he audibly sighs. There’s no helping him, he knows it. It’s a reflex, a rubber mallet to the knee. Thankfully, you let that breathy concession slide; let his briefs slide, too, until they drop unwanted around his ankles.

Mingyu is so hard that it hurts.

He’s a throbbing, leaking mess when your hand finally — fucking finally — wraps around his cock. Experimentally, you give him a light squeeze while you work the length. Your gaze flicks upwards to gauge his reaction, wrist rolling when you reach the crown.

If he had to guess, Mingyu would bet that he’s turned purple with the effort it’s taking to keep his needy mouth shut. But your eyes twinkle up at him and you tell him that he’s beautiful; and suddenly, his chest and cheeks go a shy shade of pink.

“Lay down, pretty boy,” you whisper, nodding your head towards that shitty little bed.

As he stretches out onto his back — to the best of his ability, with his heels nearly dangling off the end — he swears on his life that his friends can never know how weak he gets when you call him that.

You place your hands on his chest to keep your balance, lifting one leg over his until you’re straddling him. Your right knee settles uncomfortably between his leg and the wall, but you don’t complain. Instead, you look him dead in the eye and pull your fatal, black thong to the side.

Even in this piss-poor lighting, Mingyu can see the way your darkened eyes glint. He’s spellbound — there’s no other word to describe it.

One hand takes hold of his cock and lines it up to your cunt. The other raises to your lips, index finger extended. You tease him without saying a word, and he hears it loud and clear.

Oh, he’s going to be so good for you.

That’s what he tells himself until your arousal makes contact with the tip of his cock. That’s what he repeats in his head, over and over, when you sink down and gush around him, slick dripping to coat the centimeters that don’t quite fit inside of you. What he says out loud, elongated and definitely above a whisper, is:

“Fuuuuck.”

You quickly lean over his chest to cover his mouth with your hand. Though your pulses are both racing, he’s less focused on his total, abject embarrassment than he is on the amusement that causes your mouth to curve.

Keeping your hand where it is — for the good of everyone, really — you nip at his earlobe. He waits for the inevitable consequence of his actions.

Goddamn it. How stupid does he have to be to forfeit a prize like you?

“You don’t listen very well, baby,” Your hushed tone drips like honey into his ear. Involuntarily, his hips jerk upwards, pushing further into your wet heat.

Any distance is too much.

“But you feel so fucking good —”

Again, he ruts against you when your teeth graze his earlobe. Under your palm, his whimpering is unintelligible, but that doesn’t stop him. You catch his groan in your hand before it can hit the air.

“— might have to bend the rules for you.”

It’s torture. 

Mingyu knows you’re moving this slowly to avoid upsetting the box springs below, but whether or not there’s method to the madness, it’s still unbearable.

You swirl your hips in a way that makes his vision go white at the edges, grind down into his lap with quiet precision. He can feel that soft, spongy spot hiding behind your front wall; and he can hear those delicate little sighs as you fuck yourself deliberately.

He can feel his mind go blank, too, moments before your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. You don’t stop once he spills himself inside of you — you won’t, he hopes.

“Oh, shit,” you whimper, almost inaudibly. “I’m so close.”

The hand not covering his mouth disappears between your legs. If the way your eyes roll back is any indication, you’ve found what you were looking for. 

The sight of you is too much for Mingyu to handle. Nipples peaking through the translucent fabric of your bralette, wrist moving in the opposite direction of your hips, eyelashes fluttering while you rub spirals into your clit. Perfect, top to bottom.

Mingyu cums again when you do, refractory period be damned.

And when you collapse down onto his chest, walls still fluttering around him, he encircles you with his arm so tightly that he can feel you trembling through the aftershocks. With your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck, the tables turn.

“Fuck,” you mutter. The sound is mostly lost against his skin, but there’s enough volume to make you both start to snicker.

You kiss his neck, nudge him with the tip of your nose. Whispering, you ask, “Not bad for a twin bed, huh?”

Mingyu snorts. “Kinda feels like high school. You know, parents on the other side of the wall, cute little bedspread,” His voice trails off so he can press his lips against your temple. Voice low in your ear, he smirks, “Nutting within thirty seconds.”

Your muffled laughter shakes his shoulders, too. Then, you fall into a silence so easy he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep on top of him. To his surprise, you peep, “I didn’t think this through.”

He hums inquisitively in response. You crane your neck to meet his eyes. 

You inhale deeply, then sigh, “I have to waddle down the hallway of my childhood home to the bathroom — right past my parents’ door — and pretend like we didn’t just do what we did.”

Mingyu flashes you a wolfish grin that catches you off guard. Your eyebrows raise in anticipation.

“Need some divine intervention, sounds like. Maybe if you pray about it —” 

The only thing louder than the playful smack you land on his bicep is your laugh, straight from the bottom of your chest.

[amsgrey]

Clouds

resquested by @rainechase45

warnings: descriptions of a car accident/crash, reader sustaining mild injuries in said crash, mention of blood and broken bones (not in-depth), description of hypothermia + hypothermia-related symptoms, reader really just going thru it in every way, metaphors for death, very bad metaphor writing

Authors Note: I got about 2000 words into this before i remembered that americans have different cars to kiwis. Hopefully, any mistakes are fixed but if they're not, it's because kiwis drive on the left side of the road not the right. 

When you first got your driver's permit, Will and Jay wouldn't let you drive without them. Even though you had completed the course and passed the driving test, they still didn't want you driving alone. Which wasn't an issue really, when you didn't have your own car anyway.

Now you have had your license for almost ten months. Will let you borrow his car from time to time. Today was one of those days. A friend from school lived outside of the city and Will had let you borrow his car to go see them. The drive was only about 45 minutes, not too long with your music blasting. Will and Jay were both working late, so you stayed for dinner with your friend and then started the drive home. It was 7 pm at least by the time you hit the road. The temperature was already 8 °F and only grew colder.

You always hated driving at night and in the rain, but both at the same time was a nightmare. It wasn't just rain now, sleet came down so hard and fast your wipers hardly had time to keep up. Driving in these conditions was dangerous, even for experienced drivers. So you slowed down, turned down the music and tried to limit the distractions. If you crashed Will's car he would never let you drive ever again.

Even with the wipers at full speed and your high beam lights on, the sleet made it near impossible to see. There was no one else on the road, at least, not in front of you. There was an SUV behind you in the left lane, you caught glimpses of its shape through the sleet every now and again. They were going much faster than you were, steadily becoming a larger shadow in your mirror. Eventually, you could see their lights fully in your mirrors. You let out a grumble as you realized they too had their high beams on. Flipping the tab on your rearview mirror didn't change the fact the wing mirrors were blinding you too.

"What on earth," You groaned, the only other car on the road, the only one you had seen in the last 20 minutes was burning holes in your eyes.

Everything changed so quickly. The SUV was speeding up, gaining speed even against all the wind and sleet. Then the car was hydroplaning on the ice and sleet on the road, it swung out of control, swerving from their lane and into your own. You couldn't look away from the mirror, watching in horror as the car kept spinning out of control. It slammed into the side of your car, hitting hard against your door as it pushed you off the road. Both of your cars slid down a bank, only coming to a stop when there was nowhere else to go.

You could feel the seat belt cutting into your chest, you wanted to claw it away but it wouldn't budge. The glass from the now smashed window was cutting through your skin, on your face, your arm, even a few pieces had cut their way through your jeans.

The cold was what kept you conscious. It flooded into your car, breaking the bubble of warmth and ripping away any sense of comfort you had seconds earlier. You weren't sure if it was tears or blood running down your face, but either way, you tried to clear your mind. There was a first aid kit in the glove box, one Will had made, if you could reach it you could help yourself. 

You forced yourself to go through the checklist Will ingrained in you. Starting with your head, you made note of the concussion you likely had, then your neck, whiplash for sure. Your chest next, which was in pain from the seatbelt, but nothing else you could tell for now. Your left arm was broken, but that was a problem for another time. Your legs were squished, but you should move your feet and toes without any pain. That was as good as it was going to get, you had to get out of here. The longer you stay in here, with the sleet soaking through your clothes, the longer you put yourself at risk. 

With a bit of wiggling and stubbornness, you managed to unclip the seatbelt. It didn’t move much, but with it not so tight you could now push it away from you and start the process of wiggling out of your seat. You climbed over the center console, taking your time to avoid smashed glass or hurting yourself further. Once in the passenger seat, you pulled open the glove box, dragging out the kit and rummaging through it. You ripped open one of the gauze packets, pressing it to the left side of your forehead, the sting causing you to hiss. You continued anyway, forcing yourself to open the plastic package with a sling in it. You forced the knot over your neck. Sucking in a deep breath you forced yourself to move your arm into the sling, clenching your jaw in until the pain subsided. After ten minutes of breathing through the pain, you decided enough was enough. You had to move, even if you didn’t want to, you had too. 

Throwing open the door, you forced yourself out into the weather. The first aid kit stayed tucked under your arm so that you could help the other car. Walking up the incline was harder than getting out of the car, the pain from your arm and the other scrapes and bruises weighed you down. One step at a time. One foot after another. Eventually you made it to the driver's door. The windscreen was smashed, webbed cracks making it impossible to see through. You reached for the handle on the driver side, using it to steady yourself the last few steps then yanking it open. Inside, the driver was hunched over his steering wheel. 

“Hey,” You tried to shake his shoulder, but he didn’t respond, “Please, no.” 

You took a deep breath, then placed two fingers to the man's coritod, trying to calm the sound of your own heartbeat to feel the man. 

10 seconds passed. 

20.

30. 

Nothing. No Pulse. No Signs of Life. 

You pulled your hand away slowly, as if not to disturb him. 

“I’m so sorry,” You pulled away, stumbling a few steps back. 

By now, you could guess it had been almost half an hour. Half an hour in the sleet and rain, with no coat, no dry clothes. No one would be able to see you from the road, there was no barrier or break in a fence. No one could see you.  You were at risk, you knew any longer out here would kill you. You had to call for help. Forcing yourself to walk back down the slope to your car was hell. Your entire body shook, every time you took a step, your legs shook and you had to take extra time to steady yourself. When you finally got back to where you started, the passenger side door, you used your right arm to pull yourself back into the car. You had left your phone in the holder on the 

 There were no lights on in your car, nor the other one, so you had to search with light from the moon and strained eyes. You patted down the floor of the passenger side, nothing. Leaning over the console you tried the driver side. Avoiding the mangled parts was hard, no wonder your leg was scratched up and sore. Eventually your fingers found an irregularity, your phone face down on the ground. You yanked it up, pulling it to your face and trying to turn it on. With the screen facing you, you could see the damage. It was like it had been through a blender, the only intact part of the phone being your case. It was useless. A glorified paperweight. 

“Fuck!” 

40 minutes in these wet clothes. You had never been so cold in your life. It was as if there was no heat left in the world, the comfort of warmth was a fleeting memory. The aggressive shivering was making it hard to do anything, but you were more worried about what would happen when you stopped shivering. Growing up in Chicago, with a doctor brother, meant you heard all about how hypothermia could sneak up on a person. Most people didn't see it coming, didn’t know the signs. You were painfully aware of them. 

The racing heart. Tachycardia. 

The cold white fingers. Your body pulling blood from your extremities to protect your core.

Next it would be the brain fog, shock, the feeling of being overheated. There was no telling when it could strike. 

The other driver's phone. 

A lightbulb went off, literally. 

If you wanted to survive, you had to get back to the other driver. You had to fight. 

Finding the driver's phone felt like grave robbing. You could see it sitting in his cup holder. Some kind of miracle it hadn’t bounced out. You had to lean over the man to get the phone, trying not to move him or touch the blood that was staining his clothes. With the phone in hand, you gripped it with two hands to press the power button and activate the emergency call. You pressed the phone to your ear, it rang twice. 

“911, what is your emergency?” 

“I was in an accident,” You answered, “I need an ambulance.” 

“Can you tell me where you are?”

“I- I don’t know. I’m not shivering anymore. I’m not shivering.” 

Your arm dropped, phone tumbling into the snow on the ground. 

“It’s not cold anymore.” 

“Dispatch, we’re going to need a Medevac.” 

“Hey kid,” The paramedic was trying to keep you alert, “Not far from a hospital, okay?”

“It’s too hot,” You slurred, strapped to the gurney in preparation of the Medevac, covered in foil safety blankets. 

“I know, love,” The woman was so nice, her voice was so soothing. “Just hold on a little longer, yeah?” 

You could hear the sound of the helicopter approaching, a steady rhythm. It grew louder and louder. it  felt as if it was taking the rhythm from your heart, as the helicopter got louder you could feel your heart getting quieter. 

The deafening sound and the wind that came from the chopper made you feel like you were hallucinating. The whole time as you waited for help, half conscious in the snow. It was nothing much at first, shooting stars, the moon glowing brighter and brighter. Then it was Will’s voice, Jay’s humming. All the things that reminded you of warmth, of that all encompassing feeling. 

Holding onto your own consciousness was like trying to hold onto a cloud. You could just see it, sense it, but physically touching it, holding it… it was nearly impossible. 

A moment of clarity had you reeling it in, forcing your eyes open. 

Inside the chopper was just as loud. But more hectic. A symphony of chattering radios, yelling voices and beeping machines. 

“My brother,” You croaked. 

“Don’t speak, kid,” The Medevac paramedic was a different man, older than the paramedic from before. He looked like a dad. 

“My brother, Doctor Halstead… Chicago Med.” 

The man's face was out of focus, but you could see the realization on it. He knew what you were asking. 

He turned to the other body in the back of the shopper, the one that was just a blur of blue shapes, “Get him on the radio now.” 

He looked back at you, “What’s your name kid?” 

You whispered it back to him, voice raw and mouth dry. You felt like you were drenched in sweat. Everything was burning. The clouds in your mind were getting further and further away, but you forced yourself to hold tight to consciousness. You needed to talk to Will. You had to talk to him. 

“My name's Tom,” The paramedic was placing headphones over your ears, adjusting the mic so that your voice might reach it, “I’ve got you, alright, kid? Just take it easy.” 

The other person was speaking, explaining something. You could hear the bass of his voice through the headphones, like he was speaking inside your head. But he might as well have been speaking another language, because nothing he said made any sense. Your eyes were so tired, burning from the lights inside the chopper, even though you knew they were as low as they could go. Light flares made it impossible to focus, everything blending and swirling in a sickening live painting. Nothing was peaking through those clouds now. They were dark, cold, and sinister. The ones that roll through right before a thunderstorm, before everything went haywire. 

But then there was sun, a beam of warmth that basked you in calmness. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Will. The warmth that kept you safe. 

If you had been in your right state of mind, you would be able to hear the strain in his voice, the pure anguish. But you didn’t. All your brain could comprehend was that he was there. 

“I love you,” You whispered, not sure if it would be heard. 

Tom repeated your words, mumbling something about numbers or stats dropping. 

“I love you too.” Will replied, “I love you so much. I will always-” 

Will cleared his throat, it registered somewhere in the very back of your mind now. He was crying. 

“I will love you, forever. No matter what happens, sweetheart.” 

Will didn’t call you sweetheart anymore. It was always squirt. Sweetheart was what he called you as a child, the nickname that fizzled out when you turned 10 and having a hovering older brother was embarrassing. Again, that feeling of warmth returned. The feeling of lying in the sun after a swim, letting it dry you and warm you slowly. It was calm, gentle, nurturing. The warmth that made plants grow and flowers bloom. That you had spent your whole life with. Will was the sun in your family. Warm, nurturing and oh so loving. Always there, reliable and steady. If Will was the sun, then Jay was the moon. That Light that guided you through the dark. The one that brought coolness, serenity and wiseness. Jay was the one that kept you calm. Taught you to stand on your own two feet, to fight. The moon was always there, every single night. Sometimes it hid, keeping its light hidden, but it was always watching. 

Your brothers, your lifelines. 

The steady thrum of the helicopter was growing silent. Replaced with a ringing that pulled you into a clear empty and dark sky.

There were no more clouds. There was nothing. 

Will was on the roof as soon as he got word the chopper was getting close. The fear and anxiety that ran through his blood was making it hard for him to focus. He was standing by with strict orders not to intervene. When Goodwin had heard what was happening, she had made sure WIll knew that he could not be involved in treatment at all. No matter what, he could only watch. 

“I got this, Will,” Marcel assured Will. Marcel was a brother, he knew what it was like to worry over his sister. 

“I know,” Will responded, the words meant nothing. Nothing anyone could say would stop the thumping of his heart, the fear in his veins. 

As the chopper landed, Will watched Marcel and the trauma nurses run in, a practiced team. The hand-off was smooth as it could be, then everyone was running back inside, headed to the ED. Elevator rides with patients were always slow and nerve racking, now was no different. The Helipad was only a few floors above the ED, the distance was hardly far enough to feel as long as it was. 

“Baghdad's free” Maggie called as they barrelled into the ED. Marcel started barking orders, calling stats, medications. Will had done the routine before, thousands of times. Now, watching from outside the room,everything felt foreign and new. 

Marcel and Trinny cut off your damp clothes, replacing them with warm blankets and heat packs. 

“Temp check?” 

“61.2. Heart rates dropping. 62, 56, 43…” 

Maggie grabbed Will's arm, pulling him back as the monitors flatlined. 

“Get me an amp of epi!” 

"Epi’s in.” 

“Hold compressions…” 

“No pulse.” 

“Resume compressions.”

Will looked at his watch, the minutes were ticking by. 

“Alright,” Crockett switched with Asher on compressions, taking a step back, “Temps up to 63…” 

“It’s been ten minutes,” Asher said through compressions, “Should we try ECMO?” 

Marcel turned to Will, not for permission, but to see if he was following. THe face that Marcel saw was full of hopelessness. This wasn’t Will Halstead the ED Doc, it was Will Halstead the big brother. 

“Maggie?” 

“On it, Marcel,” Maggie stepped away from Will barking her own orders at nurses. 

How is this happening? 

Nothing else could take up space in WIll’s mind. Why was this happening? 

This morning when you had left, you showed Will the weather forecast, telling him it would be cold and rainy, that you would take your time and go slow. He knew you would too. You hated driving in the rain, so you were always alert. 

This morning, you had dropped him at work and yelled out the window, “Don’t kill anyone!” Before cackling and driving away.

You were so full of life when he last saw you. 

Now all he saw was a limp body that shared your face. 

“Will?” Jay's voice from across the ED. 

Will wasn’t just your big brother. He was Jay's too. At that moment, he knew Jay needed him. 

Will stepped away from the treatment room, intercepting Jay before he could get too close. 

“Listen to me,” Will pulled him aside, grabbing his shoulders, “You don’t want to see her right now. Marcel and Asher are working on her, they have it handled.” Lies. They were lies, or half-truths, either way, Will didn’t believe them. 

“How did this happen?” 

The Halstead brothers didn’t cry much, but now the both of them were tearing up. The fear of losing the light of their lives was weighing them both down. 

“That’s not important right now,” Will forced himself to say, “Right now, all that matters is she is getting treatment.” 

Jay nodded, he pulled out of Will’s grasp and turned to Hailey. She had watched the whole exchange, but Will hadn’t seen her until now. She looked like she might cry too. The same thoughts circling in the Halstead brothers minds were circling in her own. 

“She’s strong,” Hailey croaked out, “She’ll be okay. When she wakes up, she’ll have us, and she’ll be okay.” 

Will smiled at his sister-in-law. She really meant it, her belief giving Will something tangible to hold onto. If Hailey saw the way out, he would too. 

“I got a pulse!” 

The beeping of machines never sounded so sweet. A steady even beat. 

Will hadn’t prayed in so long, but he let slip, “Thank you, God.” A silent prayer followed. 

Where there was once nothing, now there was a wide blue sky, littered with meager clouds. They weren’t the ones that looked like faces or shapes, they were so small that they almost blended into the sky. But they were there. You could see them, feel them. God help you, you were going to reach them. 

The sun was out today too, a warm glow that set the perfect temperature. A spring morning with the first blooming flowers. The moon was there too, a watery reflection against the blue. It felt so serene here. The sun was calling to you, warming you in its embrace. You chose then, this would not be your goodbye to the sun and moon. 

Opening your eyes was the hardest challenge of the day. It was harder than walking up that slope, or staying conscious in the helicopter. Your body screamed for sleep, but you were too stubborn. You had to see the sun. 

“Will, Jay, get in here.” 

A warm hand on the side of your face, another one cradling your hand so gently. 

“We’re here, sweetheart.” 

“We’re not going anywhere.” 

This time they were real. When your eyes focused, there were your brothers. Your warmth on a cold day, the light on a dark night. When your eyes fluttered shut again, you knew they would watch over you, keep you tethered. You weren’t fearful of what would happen this time, they were looking out for you.

[impactedfates]

Letters Unsent - Genshin + HSR Boys x GN! Reader

★ Summary: After their death, you find a letter. A letter he wrote. A letter he wrote for you, a letter he wished he could’ve given to you personally. A letter describing his feelings.

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Diluc, Wriothesley, Cyno, Argenti, Jing Yuan + Gepard

★ Genre/Trope: Angst + Hurt/No Comfort

☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (Not the Readers)

★ Extra: Angst is fun, angst is nice :)) // Might make another part with different characters if this does well // Not fully proof read // Motivation came back cuz of sad tunes/hj

He said he'd be back, that it'll be quick. Despite your worry, you knew he was strong, so he'd be able to protect himself right? So you trusted him. Trusted him so much that when his co-worker showed up to your door with an expression you couldn't exactly read, you were confused. It was about him but...he was fine right? Then why were they telling you he had passed? The injuries he sustained was...to much for his body to handle? The healers couldn't help him? But...he said he'd be back...you were snapped out of your thoughts when they handed you a letter with your name on it. "I think he knew he wouldn't be able to make it...so...he wanted you to have this...even if he couldn't hear your answer"

"To My Dearest,

If I'd ever be lucky to even call you that. Although this isn't ideally how I wanted to do this. I believe I can only get these things on paper, it's much too difficult otherwise. I was never good with words so I hope this alternative is alright for you.

Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were different. Not in a bad way. It took me way too long to figure out the reason for this was due to the fact I loved you.

I loved seeing your smile.

Hearing your laugh.

Loved the small talk we had that would end up with me taking you home. You made me feel something I didn't think I would ever feel, and I'm unsure if I even deserve it.

If I even deserve you.

Whether or not you feel the same way, I hope we can stick together as long as time allows us.

Sincerely

Diluc."

"To Y/N

Hope you're doing well, life in Meropide is still as dull as ever. Well, unless you decide to visit, you really do light up the room when you come by don't you? Or maybe that's just for me.

Anyways, preferably I would be telling you this in person, but more work has piled up. That's also why our little tea sessions have to be put on hold for now. Don't worry, as soon as this all clears up and I investigate this one area, then we can go back to the usual.

I have this one blend I think you'd really like!

Anyways, enough beating around the bush.

I like you.

Like like you.

I love you.

So much.

I can't even begin to describe how much I love you, and even if I did I feel you'd be gagging at how cheesy I was being haha!

But really, I love you so much. I want to be with you, of course I understand if you don't feel the same. But Sigwinnie would have my head if I postponed this confession any longer.

I hope to see you again after my work.

Yours Truly

Wriothesley"

"Hello Y/N

I never thought I'd be writing this kind of letter in my free time. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though fate likes making things harder for me and whenever I want to even try to talk to you about this, it's much more difficult than it was when I practised in the mirror.

Or...

Well...

Practised to Tighnari.

We can ignore that for now though as I'm still trying to put this all together in words.

I would let you borrow my TCG set, you can use it as you please and I'd even let you touch my limited edition cards.

If that's not making any sense then how about a joke?

How does a fruit confess?

They say "Olive You"

.

.

.

Get it, because an olive is a type of fruit, and olive sounds like "I love"

.

.

.

I love you"

"My beloved rose

As much as I'd love to tell you all these words in person, my search for Idrila is still ongoing and I am unsure when I'll be able to see your beautiful face once again.

Ever since my eyes laid on your beauty, I thought I had found Idrila herself, but once I got to know you. Even if you weren't the Goddess, you could almost rival her.

The sparkle in your eyes.

The pretty little smile.

Your wonderful personality.

All those things you think are flaws? I love each and everyone of them. They are not flaws to me and it pains me knowing you think of yourself like that.

Once we meet again, I want to make sure you know how deserving you are of these words, how your 'flaws' aren't flaws and how much I love every bit of you.

Though I am aware I find many things worthy of praise. I want to let you know that you're different.

I don't just want to praise you, compliment you. I wish to love you, hold your hands and protect you with my life, no matter what it takes.

I love you so much, and if I could be so lucky to call you mine. Well, I think I'd be the happiest man alive.

I will return soon,

Signed

Argenti"

"Morning, Afternoon or Night

I'm not too sure when the Cloud Knight will give this to you, or when I'll give this to them. Whatever the case, I won't beat around the bush too much.

I love you.

Nothing could compare the feeling in my heart when I see you.

The smile that will never fade as long as you're there by my side.

You are just amazing. In all my years of living, never would I have thought to have met someone as perfect as you.

Even Fu Xuan herself can see just how enamoured I am for you, although for her. She's been using it as an advantage to do work.

'If you finish now you can see them quicker'

'How would they feel knowing that you're not working?'

'Stop dozing off or they won't come to see you ever again!'

I must admit, they all do work. Even if in hindsight, not only would I still see you even with work uncomplete, I'll see you plenty of times and more to come but I don't think you care all too much about my sleep.

But I digress.

I hope this letter finds you well, take as much time as you need to consider my words and think about your own feelings.

I'll be waiting where I always am.

Jing Yuan"

"Dear Y/N

Aeons this is embarrassing. But it would be even more embarrassing if Serval kept teasing me about this. I've been putting this off for so long, worried about how you'd react.

Your answer.

And if this would change your view on me...but you're not that kind of person. I know you're not. And after a bit of thinking, to save me from stumbling on my words. I decided to write a letter.

Serval should be the one giving this to you, so I hope she didn't say anything to you, I would nearly die of embarrassment if she did. Anyways!

So...I know it's probably not much hoping Serval wouldn't say something actually, knowing her, she gave it away with one sentence but...

I like you, a lot. More than you could ever know.

And I'm more than happy to talk to you about this in full once I'm back from my mission.

I can only pray you feel the same, but even if you don't.

I hope we stay friends.

Until next time,

Gepard"

WOOO FINALLY GOT THIS DONE AFTER FOREVER.

Sorry if any characters are OOC, I tried my best with writing what I think they'd write in a confession letter, but I hope you enjoyed this anyways!

[sunshinescribes]

Greedy

Pairing: Donquixote "Corazón" Rosinante x Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+), MDNI!

Summary: Rosinante never knew he could be so greedy until he met you.

Warnings: SMUT! Established Relationship, Pining, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation

Rosinante once thought greed was not in his nature.

He had grown up on scraps, shoving half-bitten fruit and moldering meat into his mouth faster than he could draw breath, uncertain of when his next meal would be. He had lived in the dark alleyways and decrepit homes of strangers lost to history, thankful that the day had not been his last. Even as he lay shivering and sick, he found solace in the fact that a bullet had not found him, nor the punishing hands of those who wished to spill his celestial blood. 

His desires had always been reasonable. Food to sustain him. A temporary place to lay his head. A way to escape his callous brother. Rosinante only ever wished for what he needed, never what he wanted…until he met you.

It’s strange. If Rosinante tries to think back on it, he can’t quite pinpoint when you become so precious to him.Your paths had crossed serendipitously one day, when he had slipped away from Doflamingo and his insufferable company to draft reports for Sengoku. Rosinante found shelter in your humble tavern, a simple little thing at the edge of town—far enough from the Donquixote family’s current headquarters to allow him a moment of respite.

You had been cautious in the beginning, aware of how dangerous members of the Donquixote family were, especially when provoked, but with each visit, you began to shift before Rosinante’s eyes. Your clipped words had turned into full sentences, soft inquiries. Your quick retreat to the kitchen whenever he appeared had stopped. Gradually, you both began to thaw, finding comfort in the other’s presence and soon Rosinante was escaping to your homely tavern regardless of if he had reports to draft or not. 

There was a softness in your gaze that captivated him—a pretty lilt to your laughter that was so different from the cruel humor of his brother’s underlyings. 

Maybe that was when his heart first stirred, the moment you laughed while helping put out the flames that slowly spread across his feathered coat. There was no deprecation, none of the censuring he had come to expect. You had been kind, and Rosinante had not realized how long he had been denied such a simple act—how much his heart secretly craved it.

And in turn, he began to crave you.

“Rosi—”

The breathless call of his name rips Rosinante from his recollections. 

He blinks, forcing the fog in his mind away until the image of you beneath him becomes clear again, and he wonders how he had allowed himself to get distracted in the first place. 

“Hm?” he hums softly, tilting his head to the side as his eyes sweep over your face.

You’re a lovely mess beneath him. Beautiful. The thought finds him every time he sees you, and yet it still feels like a revelation. Your long lashes flutter as you meet his gaze, your bottom lip trembles, looking so inviting. It takes everything in Rosinante not to dip down and kiss you senseless. 

He could…but then he wouldn’t be able to see the lovely expressions you make as he continues to work you with his slender fingers. The pinch of your brows, the way your lips part when you let out a sultry sound that strokes the flames of his desire.

Rosinante wants to kiss you, but he thumbs your clit instead, earning another sweet moan that makes his dick strain painfully against his slacks. 

“I-I’m gonna come—” you whine as you buck your hips, making his deft fingers plunge deeper into your needy cunt, and oh god he feels it again, the way your walls hug whatever they can get a hold of just before you tip over the edge. 

Rosinante has already coaxed one orgasm out of you tonight, but he wants another—wants to watch your pretty eyes roll in the back of your head and that brilliant mind of yours go dumb with pleasure. There isn’t a prettier sight in the world, and it’s enough to get him off, watching you come undone. 

“Come baby, please fucking come…” he rasps, his voice almost unrecognizable to himself. 

Rosinante quickens his pace, fucking you with his fingers while your walls clench around them, trying to keep his long digits where you need him most. His thumb rubs torturous circles against your swollen clit—faster and faster while sweet supplication spills from his lips.

This is worship after all, isn’t it? 

The wrecked whimper you let out is like music to his ears, and Rosinante fucking groans when he feels you coat his fingers with your sweet release. He watches as if caught in a spell at the way you shake through your second orgasm. The sight alone makes Rosinante’s resolve shatter. He leans down, slanting his lips over yours, swallowing those pretty cries as you shake through the pleasure that washes through you.

Rosinante wastes time he doesn’t have kissing you, tasting the inside of your mouth and stealing the air from your lungs. Doflamingo will wonder where his little brother has run off to, but Rosinante can’t will himself to part from you. Not when you’re a lovely, boneless wreck below him. 

Not when he still wants more. 

Rosinante reluctantly withdraws his fingers from your slippery hole just as he pulls away from your lips with a sigh. He blinks, his heavy gaze finding yours once again. You look a little dazed, like you're still coming down from your high. Rosinante can’t help the way his lips curve into a soft smile, or the way he whispers soft praise against your skin with each tender kiss. 

“One more…just one more sweetheart,” he murmurs, slowly trailing his lips down your body. The taste of salt and something sweet linger on his tongue, making him tremble with anticipation as he steadily reaches his destination.

Rosinante makes an appreciative noise at the sight of the mess he’s made of your pretty pussy—the slow drip of your slick like honey, the way it smears your thighs and stains your sheets. He can practically feel his mouth watering, his mind going dizzy with lust.

Rosinante doesn’t realize he’s leaning in until he feels your trembling fingers thread through his hair, gently yanking at his blond curls. He stills, before glancing up at you with an inquisitive look.

“What…about you?” your question is a tired mumble, barely audible. 

Oh, you’re so sweet, even when you’re worked to your limit, hardly tethered to the waking world. It makes the warmth in Rosinante’s chest spread like a wildfire.

His eyes never leave yours, not even as he slowly lowers back down to your needy cunt.

“This is for me.”

You let out a broken cry the moment his tongue slips between your folds. Rosinante knows it’s too much, that you’re still reeling from your last release, but he’s too far gone—craves you like a drowning man craves air. 

This is the greed you inspire in him—this unshakable desire to take everything he wants. It would terrify him if you weren’t so eager and willing. 

Rosinante laps at your sweetness like a man starved. He fucks his tongue into you, licking away the evidence of your last release to prepare for the one you’ll soon give him. He knows it won’t be long now. You’re already a sobbing mess, so needy and sensitive. 

“Ohgod—Rosi I can’t—” your words die out, replaced by a pathetic moan.

“You can…” Rosinante gasps, reluctantly pulling away from your pussy to give you a moment of relief. “Sweet girl, I know you can.”

And he knows just how to prove it. 

Rosinante leans back down, fixing your sopping pussy with an appraising glance before he wraps his mouth around your sensitive clit. He lets his talented tongue glide over the nub, teasing it until your nails dig painfully into his scalp.

You’re close, so so close. Rosinante knows you’re teetering over the edge, nearly on the brink of ecstasy. The idea alone makes his dick twitch in his trousers, ready to burst along with you.  

Rosinante grinds against the bed, chasing a sliver of friction against his throbbing cock. He’s right there with you, hanging on by a thread. 

Let go, he hears a voice in his head whisper. 

Let go. Let go. Let go.

Rosinante sucks on your clit hard and you’re gone, thrashing and bucking your hips—chasing your release with his mouth as a jumbled mix of his name and a curse spill from your lips.

Rosinante chases his own release, grinding his clothed cock against the mattress until he’s spilling into his slacks with a broken sob. You both gasp and quiver, feeling the delicious traces of your climax as you slowly settle from your high.

Rosinante sighs contentedly, gently nuzzling your thigh. It would be so easy for him to just stay here with you, to make a home in your too-small bed and leave his brother and his mission behind. It would be nice, not having to live in fear of Doffy uncovering the truth behind his sudden return—to think there’s a life left for him at the end of all this, even if Rosinante can’t picture it. 

He wants that. God, he wants it so bad it hurts. Rosinante allows himself to dream, lets his mind conjure possibilities and perfect endings…but he still lifts from your mattress, cleans away the evidence of your shared desire, and begrudgingly staggers out of your tavern.

The taste of you lingers on his tongue, and Rosinante finds solace in it as he slowly trudges through town.

Maybe one day this will all be over and he’ll get to stay by your side.

It’s a pretty thought, even if it is only a dream.

divider credit: cafekitsune

[xiaq]

I got another raise today. Praise for my contributions to my team, validation for my hard work, and a clear overview of what my continued progression in my company could look like. I celebrated by taking the afternoon off to nap and read in bed with my husband. I painted some swatches in the space that will soon be my library in the basement of our new home. I talked to my publisher about the process of turning my 3 published books into audio books. And now I'm in the living room, writing and watching my dog attempt to entice pedestrians on the sidewalk to pet him over the front yard fence.

Next month it'll be two years since I left academia.

It was the hardest and the best thing I ever did.

Three years ago, I was having an existential crisis about my career. I was working 60+ hours a week for embarrassingly little pay as lecturer. I loved my job, but I knew that continuing to work in academia wasn't a sustainable option for me. The thought of buying a house some day was laughable. I'd sworn off relationships. I looked at my writing and I thought there was no chance I'd ever publish anything. I was nearly thirty and I felt like I'd wasted the last decade of my life and I was fighting hard against the sunk cost fallacy that whispered I should just stay. Continue as I was. Let no one know I was drowning in the life I'd always said I wanted.

See, people like to say "it gets better" when people are feeling lost or hopeless. But what they don't tell you is that in order for things to get better you often have to do big scary shit that sometimes feels like walking backward. Sometimes you have to tear things down to the studs before you can rebuild. Sometimes the path to "better" looks a lot like "worse" at first.

I was lucky that my family and friends supported my "worse" phase while I was trying to figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life, interviewing for tech companies and taking fire fighting exams and querying agents/publishers and basically just saying "fuck it, I'll give it a try" to every available opportunity, including dating the guy who is now the love of my life. But "it gets better" requires hard work and bravery and putting yourself out there and bitter disappointment and rallying and leaning on that support system, and trying again.

So, I'm not sure where I'm going with this other than to say, for anyone else who was where I was 3 years back, anyone who feels stuck or hopeless or like they've wasted years of their life on a career or relationship that doesn't love them back: it gets better, but you have to fucking fight for it. So rally your troops. Get your support system in place. Give sunk cost fallacy the finger. And go figure out what will serve you better.

I'm so happy, now. My life is amazing. But it might have been amazing even faster if I'd dropped out of grad school after my first year when I realized that maybe it wasn't what I wanted after all. I wish I'd been brave then. Be brave now.