#verdant tea

[teainspoons]

CHROMA Tea Blends’ Chiffon | Tea Review

[thedrinkingg33k]

Happy Monday yo.

[althaeaofficinalis]

I am officially a complete simp for laoshan green tea, good lord this is a transcendent experience

[zhongrin]

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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, capitano, childe

◇ tags ◇ minors dni, afab!reader, chubby!reader, self aware android au, overstimulation (zhongli al haitham), period sex (al haitham), oral (giving / al haitham), inhuman features (capitano), did (childe | tartaglia), sadistic tendencies (tartaglia)

◇ a/n ◇ i have no words ya girl filthy and i blame it to the zhongli sisterwives coalition for enabling me (if yall see this, ily <3). also - obligatory tag to crys @crystalflygeo bc i feel like she'll set off a feral al haitham at me if i don't tag her /aff /silly. lastly no i definitely don't play favorites wdym

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

handsome, elegant, gentle, and overall the perfect partner. from the random geology facts to his massages and specially blended teas, zhongli is the ideal android companion you could ever splurge on. he’s an expensive model and will break your bank, plus, his various dlcs and extensions - ranging from his alter personality “morax” which is brasher and rougher on the edges to the several… ‘attachments’ you could purchase to enhance his ‘performance’ - could probably get you into debt if you’re not careful.

but really, it barely matters when he manages to fuck you just fine with his standard out-of-the-box attachment. he’s as rough as you want him to be, yet at the same time he kisses you like you’re the most precious gem he’s ever unearthed and he’s not pounding you against your bedroom door. your knees buckle and your voice cracks around the edges as you scream his name for the hundredth time that night, the way he’s bullying into your sweetest spot making you gush yet again.

he’s perpetually hard as he helps you come down from your high, and the circle in his amber eyes spins as he loads the data from your smartwatch in a matter of milliseconds.

“2092 calories... hmm. i suppose you’ve met your goal for today….”

zhongli bends down to press a tender kiss to your sweaty forehead. and for a moment you sink into post-climax bliss, feeling warm and satiated and a lot less stressed than when you first started-

he smirks when your whole body jolts as his finger starts to slowly rub your swollen bud, hips gently moving to set a slow pace to not overstimulate you too much. although he had to say he was tempted to do so, with the indecent sound you’re making from both your upper and lower set of lips.

”… but what say you we go for more? after all… you’re most sensitive when you’re on the peak of your fertile days - such as today, yes?”

your android is very very strange, you decide. but then again his personality is described as “a tad insufferable” on the label so you guessed teyvat⟡robotics is at least being honest. for one, al haitham is very punctual with his ‘working hours’ - in fact, it was the very first thing he asked when you turned him on. anything after his ‘office hours’, and he gives you the insufferable roommate treatment. he also prefers to read physical books instead of using his supercomputer brain to look up information. he’s also very seemingly apathetic about a lot of things, and sometimes it drives you crazy… just like now.

“you said you wanted the cramps to hurt less. now stay still.”

he seems to not give any fuck about all the period blood smeared over his synthetic skin as he brings you over the edge for the third time tonight.

granted he could just turn off his smell and taste sensor, but you were pretty sure the vivid lust in his verdant green optics with a diamond of terracotta of his activity bar must be a glitch in his code. with muscled arms hugging your plump thighs, he buried himself further into your cunt, humming when he felt you clench around his tongue amidst his ministrations. they vibrate and fucks your sweetest spot with such precision and speed - and with each climax, it gets harder and harder to think.

go ahead, tug on his hair all you want - he’s just doing what you’ve instructed him to do. and what is he if not exemplary at his job? hell - perhaps if it’s for this, he wouldn’t mind working overtime.

“when i’m done with you, you won’t be able to feel any pain, let alone think.”

previously a unit made for war, the capitano model is intimidating - and that’s an understatement. he’s tall, bulky, rigged with many alien-like features, and would probably get stuck on your house’s doorways, but what most people don’t know since they don’t bother reading his manual is that he’s utterly soft and gentle to his owner. in this case, namely, you.

and you’re glad that he is because the sinful way his thick fingers are stirring your sloppy pussy and fucking your mouth was already making you see stars. long thick tongue slithered out from his ‘mouth’ behind the crevasse of his helmet, wrapping around your breast and flicking your hardened nipple, a guttural purr that sounded both mechanical and otherworldly seemingly making the air vibrate.

he hums when you beg for his girthy manhood, and his fingers scissor your walls as he gauges your reactions. capitano grunts and chuckles, gentle yet with a dark undertone behind it as he taps onto your clit and fucks you deeper with his fingers.

“not yet. you’re not ready, my little human. maybe after you give me two more orgasms.”

the general consensus is that ajax is the cutest companion one could ever get from the market, and you used to agree with that sentiment. he’s sweet and cheerful, cooks you the best homemade meals, and knows when to hold you when you feel too stressed.

if only your curious soul didn’t hack into his program that one night out of curiosity. if only you hadn’t found the commented-out section amongst the lines of codes in his program. if only-

tartaglia is meaner - a lot meaner, in fact. ajax holds your hand like you’re a bubble rising on top of the water's surface which can pop any moment, but tartaglia pins them onto your mattress in a tight grip to prevent you from escaping. ajax's focus is to please you and make you feel like royalty who's in for a good time - tartaglia’s focus is on how loud you can scream in pleasure for him, how many times you can come undone by his hands compared to ajax, and he thrives by hearing his name falling from your lips as your eyes cross and your cunt spasms around his length.

too sensitive? too much? you can’t?

“but babe…. doesn’t it feel even better when there’s a little bit of pain mixed with the pleasure?”

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @pvbbyb0y

[cloudwisp]

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 · 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰

contents: fluff. pre-relationship. mentions of the three moon sisters from an in-game book 'moonlit bamboo forest'. 500 wc.

You share your first kiss with Wriothesley somewhere on Fontaine’s hilltop near the Opera Epiclese, overlooking the clear waters as moonlight cascades across the verdant lands covered in patches of morning glory flowers.

You both were on your third date, laying on a picnic blanket with a basket of pastries from a popular cafe, freshly brewed tea thanks to his portable set, and rainbow roses he gifted you set aside. It was the only time you could have him all to yourself when the Fortress became unexpectedly busy with him dealing with Fatui spies and unearthing their true goals on marked territory. But it was quickly resolved and everything was back to running smoothly again.

Even when Wriothesley had too much going on his mind, his thoughts always returned to you and your welcomed visits to his office to steal him away from his work. A sliver of a smile rests on his lips when you exchange greetings, and he makes sure to offer you another cup of tea to keep you from leaving too soon. When you have gone back to the surface, he yearns to see you again and have you close to him—just as you are now.

He likes the feeling of your soft hand in his rough and calloused ones and the sweet sound of your voice, even as you tell him about the legend of the three moon sisters while gazing upon the radiant and timeless orb that's said to be a corpse. But Wriothesley was more interested in you than the sovereigns of the night sky and the tragic fates bestowed unto them. Though, he listened intently to your every word his eyes never once wavered from the opalescent glow filtering your beautiful face, memorizing every minute detail of your expressions and the moments leading up to it. . .

Then you both went quiet and you turned your head to look at him. You can feel his hand tighten around yours as he leans in impossibly close, his breath mingling with yours as he points out that you have something on the corner of your mouth—a crumb from the pear tarlet you nibbled on a while ago. “Here, let me. . .” He sweeps his thumb against your tender skin at first, then your heart skips a beat and heat spreads throughout your body when he fully presses his lips there.

When he draws back, he searches your face for anything that tells him he didn't scare you off even when the mutual interest was already made clear. Yet a shadow of doubt weighs in the back of his mind because deep down he was starting to fall for you, and he hopes what you might feel for him is real and true. And so, the night air became sweeter in the way your lips stretched into a smile that was warm and inviting, and he knew at that moment his world would shift to revolve around you. “How about a proper first kiss?”

He dips in again for another taste, embracing the softness of your lips and pulling you closer until it is just the two of you, your ever-growing love, and the heavens as your witness.

꒰ note ᰔ there was nothing there, he just wanted to kiss you. ꒱

[tetsupeach]

reaper deku x f!reader

summary - after you die and deku comes to collect your soul he takes personal responsibility for you.

cws - monsterfucking light, he's got horns and a long tongue and is 7 feet tall, sleeps in a nest, collects souls ready to pass on. reader is dead, she's been murdered by her abusive boyfriend, but the story picks up after she's passed. breeding, deku's a gentle dom, huge cock,, uhhh yeah honestly this is pretty soft,

MINORS DNI - please have an age in your bio to interact with this fic.

It’s not that he liked his job, Deku reminds himself as he feels the tugging towards another soul ready for departure, it’s that he feels a sense of duty. He was a shepherd, to most of the people he visited, death was a kindness, a release, and he was sure, already leaping over rooftops, his tattered black cloak dragging behind him, that you would be no different. Like most people, you barely notice his figure darkening the doorway, but oh you poor thing, you can barely move. 

“Ohh,” he can’t help it, the sympathetic sound pouring from his lips, what a helpless little human, “So many broken bones,” he muses in a soft coo, squatting beside you. You’re leaned up against the wall of an empty apartment, blood trickling down the side of your face. You let out a little breath, and when he rests his hand on your shoulder the pain dissipates. “I haven’t seen one this bad in a while,” he says, and you gasp in shock, looking up at the dark figure that suddenly appeared next to you. 

He was tall, and broad, with a tangle of dark green curls that matched his glittering verdant irises, a smattering of freckles across his nose. He reaches a scarred hand out to you, and you take it, bursting into tears as he pulls you to your feet. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, “I’m sorry you probably deal with this all the time.” Your voice is softer than he expects, little more than the whistle of a teakettle. He wraps his arms around you, folding your body into his warm chest. 

“Actually,” He says, “Most people are angry.” The lump in your throat only grows as the hot tears spill down your face. “They want more time, another chance, and I can’t give it to them.” 

“I-I-I’m ready to go,” you blubber, “I’m so t-tired, and everything hurts.” He rubs comforting patterns into your back. 

“Let’s take a second,” he says, looking down at the top of your head. “It’s alright, no more pain where we’re headed, okay?” You only cry harder. 

“I never,” you sniff and look up at him, “I never had a chance.” He moves one of his hands higher, tangling it in your hair, a question he never asks on his lips. 

“Who did this to you?” He says, and you turn around to glance at your body but he catches your chin with a kind smile. “Better not look, hm?” You nod

“W-we could go to my kitchen?” You hiccup and he lets you lead him forward.

“I can make you tea.” He says, opening the cabinet with your mugs in it on the first try. 

“Death can make tea?” You ask, and he nods without turning around.

“I’m not death.” He clarifies. “I work for death.” He turns the stove on, filling a teapot with water and looking over his shoulder at you. “I asked who did this to you?” 

“M-my boyfriend.” You mumble. “No matter how hard I t-tried, he was never happy with me, and when I tried to leave,” You tremble, unable to finish the sentence. 

“No,” Deku coos at you with surprise, as if he hadn’t heard this story a million times before, as if this was new information, “Sweetheart, that’s not love, you deserved to be loved.” You nod slowly, your eyes burning with fresh tears, and the need to comfort you nearly overtakes him. 

“No one else wanted me.” You press your lips together. “I never had a chance at all.” Deku takes a box of tea down from the cabinet and inspects you carefully, your skin in the moonlight, your red-rimmed eyes. 

“You don’t have questions for me?” He looks over his shoulder at you and you shake your head. “You know it’s not true that no one else wanted  you.” He says, sitting down next to you at your kitchen table. “You’re very beautiful, so I’m sure that’s not true.” You sniff. 

“Thank you.” You say, and he reaches over and brushes some hair out of your face, his hands ghosting your skin and then returning to his side. 

“Tell me what happened?” He murmurs, “I have time.” You swallow, and nod. 

“He, he came home, and he was drunk.” Dekus eyes never leave yours while you’re speaking, “And he was upset, about, about something, maybe sports, maybe me. He wanted me to have sex with him, and I didn’t want to, I just, I didn’t feel like it.” Deku gets up, takes the kettle off the stove, and pours the boiling water, setting the steeping tea in front of you with a soft thump. You touch it, half expecting your hands to go through the ceramic, but they don’t. 

“This isn’t your fault.” He says, joining you. 

“You didn’t make yourself tea?” You ask, eyes widening a little. 

“I don’t really, eat.” He explains. “You won’t either, when we leave.” 

“Where are we going?” You ask, cupping the mug in your hands, it’s warm on your cool skin. He thinks about it before responding. 

“The next phase of existence, it’s different for everyone.” He stops himself, closing his eyes, “I’m, I’m sorry, you’re not,” he swallows, “You shouldn’t be, you shouldn’t be okay with this,” the pain is evident in his voice, “You should be fighting me, you should be kicking and screaming, you should be begging for a chance at revenge!” You take a long slow breath in, lower lip trembling. 

“I know this isn’t what you meant,” You mumble, throat tight, “But what I heard was that I can’t even die correctly.” You bury your face in your hands. “Can we just, can we go, to whatever’s next?” 

“No!” He says, scandalized. “No, we can’t.” He takes your hand and pulls you out of your chair, “There had to be things that you always wanted to do?” You wipe one of your eyes. You’d had dreams once, maybe as a child, in those limited golden-tinged memories, you’d had things you’d sworn to do before this, the most human of inevitabilities. 

“I can’t think of anything.” You whisper, and he shakes his head. 

“Sure you can, is there a place you thought of going?” You think about it hard, at one of the jobs you’d had, at one point, your life was already blurring together, one of your co-workers had a 

“Um, I guess I wanted to see Venice?” He yanks you down the hallway, and out into the summer drizzle. “What the hell are you doing?” He doesn’t answer, pulling you up into the clouds, you’re not flying exactly, there’s hardly any movement, except the turn of the planet beneath him. “Hey,” you try to get his attention hanging from his forearm as you move higher into the sky. He holds his posture, but you dangle like a christmas ornament, “Hey,” you say again, louder, and with a soft grunt he lifts you, holding you to his chest while he flies, wrapping his cloak around your body. After a few seconds, you’re flying over an ocean, moonlight sparkling on the dark waters, clinging to him, shivering in the cold. 

“We’re obviously going to Venice,” He says, a touch of frustration in his voice. “I want you to see, something, something you can mourn, you need to. It’s  human, it’s healthy.” You look up at him.

“Why are you so concerned?” 

“It’s part of my job.” He says, “To guide humans. To take them to the places they need to go. And I decided you and I go to Venice, now.” You wrap your arms around his neck and feel his hands on your waist. As you touch down on the cobblestones, the moon is high, glittering on the canal. He leads you down the street, people don’t stop to look at you, you gather after he walks straight through a lampost, because they can’t see you. You’ve been walking for a few minutes, he doesn’t let go of your hand. You look down at it, his nails are varnished black, the fingers long and thick. Everything about him is big, you realize, even more so on the tiny Eurpean streets. 

“Am I dreaming?” You wonder out loud, and he looks down at you. 

“No.” He confirms. “Does this help, though, being here?” You sigh, shivering, the air is cool and wet. You swallow. 

“I don’t know.” 

“I could get you ice cream.” He says, a touch of desperation to his tone. 

“I had a dream, once.” You say, so softly, he has to lean in to hear you at all. “I wanted him to love me.” You breathe the last word, “I want him to touch me softly, because,” you gesture around the piazza, remembering that it was the honeymoon in your co-workers photo and not the sinking city you’d longed for, “I wanted a real love.” Your lip trembles. “And I’m never going to get it.” The tears fall again. “No one ever touched me softly,” you look up and meet his eyes, his face is completely unreadable, “And I’ll never know what that’s like.” You gesture weakly. “This is pretty but, when the people go, it’s just stone, and water, and spores.” You look at the lichen climbing up the side of the fountain. “And now I’m dead.” He swallows and looks down at you. 

“I’m not sure how to fix that.” he admits. “I don’t usually do this.” 

“Take someone’s soul to Italy before you take them on?” You sniff, wiping your face. “I’m sorry I think, I just want it all to be over.” Deku presses his lips together and frowns before speaking again, a touch of childish desperation creeping into his voice.

“It’s just that, the little parts of being alive are so fascinating to me,” he giggles at the thought, “Did you know some humans, when they date, take pictures of each other, and make it their little um, their phone screen?” You nod. “And I’ve seen,” he keeps chattering excitedly, I’ve seen them ah,” he stops himself, searching for the word, “Do this thing, where they’re lying down together, and they kinda fit their bodies into each other?” 

“Spooning?” You offer, and he beams. 

“IS that what it’s called?” He fidgets, and you can see his long dark nails, more like talons in the darkness. He was so excited, so sweet.

“Um, I could, if you want I could show you, more of the things humans do when they’re in love?” He brightens, and when he smiles, the hood of his cloak falls off his head. In the dark moonlight, you can seek the skeleton underneath his skin, underneath the human glamour part of him. 

“Oh, sorry.” he says, jerking the cloak over his head again, his ‘humanity’ restored. “I would, I would like that though.” He takes your hand. “Like, this, did I do this right, when I was comforting you, I’ve seen movies I-” 

“This is fine.” You say, giving him a tiny encouraging smile that just cuts all the way through his chest. “But isn’t it better like this?” You carefully interlace your fingers with his. His hand is cold to the touch, but his face warms, a long breath escaping from his chest. 

“Oh,” he says, “Yes it feels, so much closer?” You squeeze his hand, and he gets redder. 

“You were good, ah, especially when you um,” You step into his personal space again and bury your face in his chest, he nods, understanding, cupping the back of your head in his free hand. 

“Like this?” He asks, and you can feel the rumble of his voice from his chest. 

“Yes,” you sigh, a little more warmth to the sound. “It helped.” 

“What else,” he says, the desperation back in his voice, “Please I want, I want to understand better, for the people I guide.” You nod into him. 

“You could lean down, and kiss the top of my head.” He follows your orders,  his mouth lingering on your scalp, inhaling your scent. You smell like cigarette smoke, and vanilla perfume. “And I would do this,” You breathe, wrapping your free arm around his waist, and going to wrest your other hand from his but when you pull at it, his grip tightens, and an animalistic snarl rips from his chest. You jump and gasp with fear but apologies are spilling from his lips immediately. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he says, “I just, I guess, I’m feeling protective, I want to keep holding your hand, please, ah,” you look up at him, his face is so genuinely contrite it breaks your heart, “May I please keep holding it?” 

“Ah, yes.” You say, and he smiles at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “Can we keep walking?” You ask, and he nods. The two of you stroll through the streets of Venice at night, and the temperature drops considerably as the moon gets higher. You’re standing at the dock, looking out at the ocean, when you start genuinely trembling, and he speaks again, handsome face contorted with concern. 

“Ah, are you cold?” 

“Y-yes.”  You choke out, still in only the tank top and pajama shorts you’d died in. 

“I can um, I can give you my cloak if you don’t mind that i’ll look less human.” He offers, and you shrug. 

“I can’t imagine that after all that,” you remember your crumpled form, the black spots appearing on your vision as your boyfriend stumbled out of the room, so drunk he was blind to what he’d done, “That I looked human.” 

“No, I suppose not so much.” he says, remembering a scene from a movie he’d watched on a day off, taking your chin in his hand roughly, then jumping back and releasing it, “Sorry, I wanted to touch you, but I, I did that wrong?” You nod quickly, and he looks sheepish, reaching back and touching his own neck. “Sorry.” He repeats. 

“No it’s alright,” You say, taking his hands and arranging them on your face so that he’s cupping it, his thumbs resting on the top of your cheeks. “Like this.” He strokes your skin for a moment, lost in the high planes of your face reflecting in the moonlight, the only sound the water lapping the dock you're standing on, the boats nudging each other. But then another shiver runs up your spine, and he practically rips off his cloak, draping it around your shoulders, bending down so that he can properly arrange it on your shoulders. In the bright silver moonlight, he stretches into a truer form. He’s a little hunched, and much closer to seven feet than six. There are two white bony horns peeking out of his green hair, and his canines are long and sharp in a distinctly inhuman way. In the direct moonlight, you can see right through his skin. But other than that, he’s built like a man, the largest man you’ve ever seen, but a man nonetheless. 

“Wow,” you stammer, drawing his cloak around you. He laughs.

“You’re not afraid?” He asks, and your mind flashes to the fear you knew in your life, the way you’d come to jump at loud noises, the way just the scent of whiskey could send you into a tailspin, and you shake your head. 

“I’ve seen worse.” You say softly, and he nods, understanding. 

“Ah.” He offers you his hand, now with long talons at the end. You take it, and he carefully, painstakingly interlaces your fingers. “Can I,” he starts, and then you watch him stop himself, second guess, and then barrel forward, “Can I, what I mean, is that,” he pauses, struggling for the right words. “I would like to, to kiss you, if I can.” Your eyes widen. 

“Oh!” 

“I mean, not if, not if you don’t-” 

“No it’s just-” 

“It’s totally okay,” he flashes his palms at you, “I get it if you-” 

“I want to.” You cut him off again, and he looks at you, shock coloring his handsome features. “I just um,” you look around, “I know no one can see us, but I’d prefer if we could go somewhere um, private?” He nods, squeezing your hand. 

“My place?” 

“You have a place?” You ask, as he lifts you back up into the air, and you watch the moonlight glitter on the dark ocean. 

“My shift’s been over for a bit.” He explains, a little guilt creeping into his expression. “We work for three weeks about, your time. You were my last job.” 

“Oh.” Something twinges in your gut. “Can I ask you something?” You look down, Venice is tiny below you, nearly disappearing into the sea. “What ah, what are you?” 

“I serve death.” He explains, lifting you easily so that you’re cradled against his chest, swaddled like a baby. “In all of their forms, as the raven queen, as the devil, as the moon, whatever form you’ve given them.” He shifts you a little so that your head is resting on his pectoral. “You might call me ah, a demon, I suppose, but that comes with such a negative connotation.” 

“What should I call you, then?” He glances down at you, it’s incredible to him, how easy you’re taking this, how quickly you accepted death, how you don’t seem to be afraid of him, it feels, dreamlike. 

“Call me Izuku.” He says as you break through a huge white cloud. The world around you blurs and suddenly you’re not flowing up, but down, down towards a ground that looks like a rocky mountainside. “It’s a reflection,” he explains, seeing the look on your face, “Sometimes when you’re looking in the mirror and you see something behind you, you are seeing us.” 

“Izuku,” you say, and oh god his given name on your lips is heavenly, so sweet and short, a cooing, breathy sound. His mouth goes dry as he lands on the dirt path, leading to the mouth of a cave. “Is this allowed, I don’t want you to get in trouble.” He stretches a little, setting you on the ground, you’d have to go back, eventually, he thinks, but there was a way, a way to ensure you’d be his forever. 

“They might notice, in a century, that you didn’t report to where you’re going.” He yawns. “But it’s so kind of you to care.” He leads you to the mouth of the cave, which has a huge nest of blankets and twigs, the occasional moss accent softening a corner. Flickering torches hang on the walls, creating long dancing shadows on the floor. He helps you into the nest, lifting your body up and over the lip of it so that you slide to the soft bottom, then leaping into it after you. It’s cozy and much less fragile than it looks, 

“I like this,” you breathe, startling even yourself at how, right it feels to be here. He blushes a deep crimson. 

“You like my nest?” 

“It seems,” you shift your weight a little, “It seems sturdy.” Warmth spreads across his chest. 

“Thank you.” You’re sitting cross-legged on the blankets, with him kneeling in front of you. “Where do I um, how do I start?” he asks, and you take his huge hands guiding them so that one of them rests on your waist, and the other is cupping your cheek. 

“Now press your lips to mine,” you say, eyes wide and kind, full of the most beautiful innocence - god he was going to - “Softly, at first.” You instruct, speaking the words almost into his mouth. “And you can use your hands to move me where you want me.” His hand on your waist tightens, digging into the softness of your skin there as he leans farther forward, experiencing the gentle ecstasy of closeness. Your body is warm, so warm compared to him, he can’t help it, he wants more, using his leverage to push his tongue between your lips, guiding you down on your back so that he can feel every curve, every contour of you against him. It’s been so long, he works so hard, and there are so many intricacies to your anatomy, so many places he can press his lips to make more music spill from your mouth. Where he’s hard and cold, you’re plush and warm, and the little gasp you make when he accidentally grazes his teeth against your lower lip practically sets him on fire, a low growl ripping from his chest. You tug on his hair, guiding him from your mouth to the crook of your neck, pulling another hiccupping gasp from your lips. 

“I-izuku,” you choke out, it feels good, his tongue long and rough on your skin, but, “It’s o-okay, you can touch me,” another sound rumbles from him, somehow even more feral, as both of his hands move up to palm your chest, rutting his hips desperately against yours. 

“Want you, gotta get your ready for me,” he growls, “Please, fuck, I need-” 

“It’s okay,” you breathe, more sure of this than anything in your life, “I want you, I want you, I can handle it.” He pulls off of you, face flushed, heart racing, as he rips your pajama shorts off of you and dives between your legs. It’s like he’s sucked the air from your lungs, bright lights exploding behind your eyes as he presses his nose against your clit and slides his long tongue into your core. “Mmmmm,” He groans, rolling his hips against the ground, roughly taking your thighs in a bruising grip as you writhe with pleasure, the vibrations of his voice only sending you higher. 

“‘Zuku,” you choke out, as he laps at you greedily, “Feels, feels so good.” He growls into your warmth again, pressing himself deeper into you. You tangle your fingers in his hair, guiding his movements against you, he lets you set the rhythm but any time you try and squirm away from him, any time the pleasure becomes too much, he locks his arms around you tighter, holding you in place. You meet his gaze, eye narrowed and intense. 

“Mine,” he says, before slipping a finger inside of you. You keen at that alone, the possessive undercurrent to his voice making your face hot and mouth dry. “Mine,” he says again, knuckle deep inside you, pressing against your velvet walls as you gasp and mewl. “Say it.” He demands, his demeanor completely different. “Say you’re mine.” 

“I’m,” you swallow, he curls his one finger inside of you and your back is practically forced into an arch, pleasure building, the hot coil in your stomach growing tighter. “I’m yours, I’m yours, Izuku,” you cry out over the lewd squelch of his finger inside you. He adds a second one, scissoring them inside you, and he marvels at the way it sends a shudder throughout your entire body, you just can’t stay still for him, even yelping when he sinks his teeth into the soft skin at your hips, delighting in the way you’ve completely come undone at his touch. He can feel his cock straining against his pants, with every wanton moan that escapes your lips, it gets harder, desperate for some kind of friction, to replace his fingers in your warm, wet, cunt. 

“Fuck,” you choke out, looking at him again, soft eyes glistening with tears, and somewhere inside of him, a damn breaks. With a feral grunt, he takes you roughly by the waist and lifts you in the air, flopping on his back as he positions you above his crotch, watching your eyes widen with fear as he pulls his length out from his pants. He’s huge underneath you, shoulders wide and flat, his shirt sticking to his sweaty abdomen. You reach for it, tugging it over his head and leaning back, bracing your hands against his hips, raking your eyes down his scarred muscle to the trail of green hair leading to the largest cock you’ve ever seen, purpled with need and curving slightly. 

“C’mon,” he growls, “C’mon baby, take it, you can do it.” You swallow, heart thrumming as you sink down, your walls stretching taking even the head of him. “That’s it,” he says, dark eyes glittering, as you let out a soft whine. 

“S-so big, ‘Zuku,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you feel a light slap on your thigh, 

“Look at me,” He says, “Focus on me,” You lower your hips a little more, your mouth dropping open as the stretch starts with a sharp pain that melts into pleasure. He sits up a little, taking your thighs in his hands, kneading at them before pressing another kiss to your lips. “Take it baby, you can take it,” he says, as you keep sinking lower, your eyes completely losing focus as your soft walls flutter around him. 

“Ah,” you moan, biting down on your lower lip, you’re still only about halfway. It’s not just that it’s the longest cock you’ve ever seen, it’s wide, and there’s so much space between your hips and that tuft of green hair at his hilt. 

“Look at me,” He says again, authority seeping into his tone, and you obey, shivering with pleasure, “Look at me,” you nod, “You’re gonna take my cock, angel, alright, like a good girl, and then I’m gonna make you feel so good no one else is ever gonna matter,” you nod, and keep going, ignoring the stretch, tuning everything out but his loud groans. 

“‘Z-zuku,” you mumble, trying not to break eye contact with him. 

“No one else,” he says, his voice dark, his eyes narrow and possessive, “‘M gonna ruin you for anyone else.” You roll your hips a little as you finally, finally take all of him, settling down on top of him as you feel every inch, every vein, pulsing, so hot inside you. 

“So f-full,” you breathe, reaching for him and instinctively, he holds your hand, just like you taught him. 

“What a good girl,” he coos, and watches you preen at the praise, squeezing your hand, “Ready for me to move, baby, ‘m gonna fuck you so good baby,” You whimper, and he sits up eyes wide with concern. “Is it too much I-” 

“I want you to kiss me,” you mumble, embarrassed at your desire for intimacy, but he beams at you before crashing his lips against yours at the same time as he thrusts his length inside you, letting you moan into his open mouth, not letting go of your hand as he slowly begins moving inside you. You collapse into his chest and he takes it in stride, burying his face in your neck, biting down on your soft flesh, as the pleasure overtakes him. 

“So good,” he chokes out, moving you up and down his cock, feeling your walls flutter and squish around him, “Such a good girl, baby,” he breathes, “F-fuck, takin’ all of me, so good, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he snarls the last word, slamming into you hard, eliciting a sharp keen from your lips. He can’t tear his eyes away from the way you’re stretching to accommodate him, watching his cock disappear between your soaking folds, groaning loudly at the way you squeeze around him. 

“More,” you beg, holding his hand more tightly, “More please, ‘Zuku, I can take it.” 

“Fuck yes you can,” He breathes, picking up the pace, fucking you harder, letting you completely relax against his chest as he thrusts upward into you, watching your chest bounce with every roll of his hips, lifting your head up so that he can kiss you sloppily again as he feels himself scrape against your walls. “Fuck yes,” he repeats, speaking into your mouth, refusing to let go of your hand, 

“Can I,” you stop speaking as a particularly hard snap of his hips against your sucks the wind from your lungs, “Can I cum?” He blinks up at you, the idea of it registering, and then whatever self-control he’d been holding on to dissipates. He flips you on your back without pulling out and pins both of your hands next to your head as he fucks you into oblivion. 

“Cum for me,” He snarls, “Cum for me, I want it, I wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby come on,” you writhe underneath him, completely lost in the sensation the coil in your stomach hot and tight, you’re teetering on the edge of your high as he leans down and speaks in your ear, his breath on your neck, “I said,” he growls, voice completely different, dark and threatening, “Cum for me.” It’s like you’ve been shoved off a cliff, you clench down on him hard, losing complete control of your limbs and your mind, babbling praise as he carries you through your orgasm. He chases his own high, thrusts sporadic, in time with short low grunts, as he explodes inside of you, staying hard with the single-minded thought of getting his cum as deep within your cunt as possible, of marking your womb and your body as his. 

“Mine,” he says, over and over as he watches you unravel, your tongue lolling as your orgasm rips through your body, noticing the marks he’d littered on your neck and chest, the bite marks and bruises making him somehow even harder. It’s a few minutes, before he finally stops cumming, collapsing on top of you, still not releasing your hand. He crushes you against his chest, wrapping himself in blankets as you come down, finally pulling out of your pussy with a soft groan. 

“Izuku,” you breathe, still barely present. “Izuku, am I,” you swallow, “Is this, ah,” you pause, catching your breath but he presses a single finger to your lips. 

“Shhh,” he breathes, “You’re mine, baby, all mine, nothing bad, is ever going to happen to you, ever again.” You lift your head sleepily. 

“Yours?” 

“Mine.” He confirms and feels you relax against him. He watches you drift off to sleep, stroking your hair, peppering your face with kisses, whispering praise. After all, his hands brush your stomach, if you weren’t pregnant yet he’d just have to try harder next time. 

“I’m not asking your permission,” he says quietly, nestling you in his lap, “But just so you know, I’m going to kill your boyfriend.” You blink up at him, brain still operating at 1%. 

“Really?” You breathe, eventually, and he nods. 

“Yeah.” He presses his lips to your forehead. “I’m gonna take such good care of you.” You snuggle against him, sleepy, fucked out, in a demon's nest, about to fall asleep against his chest when he speaks again. “And you’re gonna give me the sweetest babies,” he coos, and your blood turns to ice, nerves overtaking you.

“What?” You ask, suddenly wide awake, staring up at him. He just nods. 

“I don’t know much about romance,” he says, with a sheepish shrug, “But I do know you’re gonna be so beautiful,” you feel his lips on your neck, “Carrying my babies.” You swallow, remembering your mother, doing everything on her own, barely present.

“Y-you’ll help me, right?” You beg, and he pulls away from you, scandalized. 

“Of course!” His eyes widen. “Of course, I will.” You close your eyes, putting the cold darkness of your human lift behind you, wrapping your arms around your demon's neck. 

“Alright, then,” you wrap your legs around his body. “I’ll be yours, Izuku.” He pets your head, “Can we sleep?” He pulls you down into his pile of blankets, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, nestling you against his chest, and the only sound in the cave is his soft, even breath, and the crackling of the flames of the torches affixed to the wall. “Oh wait,” you sit up, and his heart breaks into a sprint, he could stop you from leaving, from running but he’s not sure he can handle the idea of being rejected - “We could spoon, um, if you want?” There’s a moment, where he processes what you’re offering, letting him lie down on his side and lying down behind him. You hook your arms under his, pressing your chest against his back. “Do you feel safe?” You ask in the tiniest, sweetest voice, his heart shatters, his hands ache for you, but he answers simply, voice trembling as tears spring to his eyes. 

“I think,” he says, “No one’s ever touched me softly either.” You bury your face in his neck. “Hmm,” you sigh sleepily. “I’ll teach you.” He swallows, nodding, and his next thought hits him like a train. God, was he going to make your boyfriend fucking suffer.

if you enjoyed this please consider reblogging/commenting. it really helps my reach - much more than liking will.

[knightyoomyoui]

[SMUT] TWICE Dahyun x Male Reader - "Conquered By An Abomination"

Here's my final one-shot for this year which is another smut fic featuring Dahyun. I want to say that I'm pretty proud and impressed at myself for being able to catch up on the 4th quarter after being too busy during July-October. This fic has got to be one of my experimental and unique works that I decided to try writing, because the concept that you're about to see here was never been done by me before, meaning that this my first-time writing it. Please understand and pardon me if this one turns out to be not suitable to the liking of some, as I feel like this might not be everyone's cup of tea. Enjoy reading and celebrate a Happy New Year with your loved ones, please!

Here's my Ko-fi account where you can drop your donations or ask for a commission. You can check it out on my Tumblr profile too!  Buy knightyoomyoui a Coffee. ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui - Ko-fi ❤️ Where creators get support from fans through donations, memberships, shop sales and more! The original 'Buy Me a Coffee' Page. TRIGGER WARNING: contains R+18 mature content, smut WORD COUNT: 4,500+ TAGS: abduction, aphrodisiac, tentacles, rough sex, monster fucking, gangbang, breast play, deepthroating, ass filling, creampie

On Friday, November 13, astrophysicist Dr. Kim Dahyun and her research team went from Busan to Seoul to visit a location where they were tasked with conducting a comprehensive examination.

Based on radar data from their headquarters, it was seen that around midnight yesterday, an object that seems to be a fragment of an asteroid or comet crashed into the vicinity of Seoul.

Their chief professor and mentor at the research lab gave them the order to report any unusual sightings they came across there before calling the military and defense squad to seize control of the area and place it under lockdown, keeping everyone outside of the sector out.

Dahyun and her group entered the hidden area through their vehicle, bypassing the main road and making their way to the designated site. They made the decision to park close to the danger zone as they were leaving the road so they could more easily reach the astronomical devices inside.

"So what's this anomaly of yours supposed to look like?" One of her intern graduated to SNU, YN LN asked her after arranging all the panels around the van.

"It's almost the same as what we used to find from the sky, but this one was the first to do the unthinkable." Dahyun answered, wiping her eyeglasses. "The record says that it's like a small shooting star that emerged from the sky, but the impact it left when it came contact here almost triggered a mild earthquake."

"So that's why the sent us in." He responded, nodding his head understandably.

Dahyun turns her head around, acknowledging her other assistant who is testing some devices that they will equip on their hands outside. "Uhm, Minyoung excuse me for a sec will you?"

"Yes, Miss Kim?"

"Can you grab for me that gloves beside the first cabinet?" She pointed at the direction. Minyoung saw it and unhesitantly passed it to her. "Thanks."

"Are you guys good now?" She checked on her accomplices. They signalled her with a positive note. "Okay, let's take a look what they have in store for us."

After getting out of the van, they began to swing the tall leaves that were obstructing their view and path on the verdant field. They weren't even gone from their car for that far when they observed something startling.

The three researchers were welcomed with a bald area on the top portion of the field, which was produced by a big crater on the land. The leaves that were impacted by the collision scattered across the hole.

"This looks huge." YN exclaimed with a gasping mouth. "Are you all sure it's just a thin shooting star-like that appeared yesterday?"

"It is. They even presented it to me." Dahyun explained. "The anomalies here would be always associated to the geological condition here. I have a chart that describes everything we have encountered for these past few years and I've never seen anything like this that an unknown object also gave us a hard time dealing with a quake."

"We better get starting now because to be honest, this is getting really unpredictable to the minute and I couldn't understand what's going on as long as we see it ourselves." Minyoung suggested. Dahyun and YN looked at her and they were both convinced. YN planted a huge nail beside the crater and wrapped a rope around it that will serve as their handle when going down to the crater.

As the three of them made it below. They began to look around and observe deeply the surfaces. Minyoung kneels down and poked a stick on a gross material, forming a disgusted expression on her face. "Uhh guys, take a look at this."

Dahyun and YN came towards her. "Does this remind you of something?" Minyoung said as she twirled and flipped it around, almost like she's playing on it.

"Is that an eggshell?" YN asked, furrowing his brows at the black and velvet-colored thin piece swimming at a pool of gooey substance.

"Could be. Just look at the fluids around that probably came from this." Dahyun said, mentioning the slime. They garnered their eyes more at their surroundings, there were even bigger ones that what Minyoung has found and they were also mostly covered with a slime.

"Get away from that, Minyoung-ah. Don't you see how disgusting it is?!" YN scolded his friend. He started to cover his nose too with his shirt. "And do you guys smell that?"

"Yeah, it's bad." Dahyun clenched her face in dislike. "Feels like there's a rotting organ in here."

"Wait, so are we gonna conclude right away that we just discovered a cracked egg?" YN said. He scoffed and rubbed his face. "Am I correct at what I think this might mean?"

"No, YN. We're just getting started here. We are researchers we came here to finish our task and not do it in rush just because we're in an unsettling situation right now." Dahyun protested. "We don't jump into conclusions right away."

"S-sorry, Prof." YN bowed his head. "It's just.. I'm sensing something wrong in here."

"YN, let's just wish it would not happen at all. Okay?"

YN looked at Dahyun's comforting and calm demeanor. He nodded shyly. "Yes, Ms. Kim."

Snapping a few photos of the scene, Dahyun gave Minyoung and YN the order to take everything out of the van that would be necessary for them to make a report and gather any evidence that they would find here. Dahyun borrowed a tracker and used it to glide around the crater's borders while they did so.

The tracker bumped against a tall leaf, and the alarm began to sound loudly. After receiving an alert, Dahyun was perplexed as to what it had discovered. Before she caught anything, she inspected the dirt and leaves in the area.

The leaves did not have sharp, pointed ends. Rather, it appears as though the flower has grown directly onto the leaf, utilizing it as a stem or something unexplainable. Dahyun thought it was rather strange to see a flower extending through the body of the leaves itself.

She stepped back to wipe the dust off her face as the flower burst some sprinkle of nectar on her face as she reached out to touch it. She held her tracker again while she coughed, but she quickly figured out that it was unresponsive.

"There's got to be some power or equipment malfunction" Dahyun hissed on the device as she carried it. "Minyoung! YN! I need a help on-"

Dahyun was about to walk back on the van when suddenly she went out of balance and slipped through the crater. When she was about to get up, she saw the van fleeted upwards to the sky, a hole was formed on the bottom of the vehicle before it splitted in half when it crashed on the ground. Her heart shattered she heard it explode.

She wasn't devastated because of the vehicle, but because of the fact that two of her colleagues were inside that van when it exploded. "NOOOOOOOO!!!!" she shouted at the horrific sight from outside the crater.

Dahyun ran through the ropes and hurriedly climbed but she started getting drowsy and lightheaded, her body losing it sense until it managed to get her out of the grip from the rope, sending her unconscious inside the crater.

Right after she snapped out, the ground she's laying at started to flow like waves.

Dahyun woke up hours later, but not without a clue on her, as her mind was still rebooting from what happened to her earlier. Her eyes opened, and there she witnessed herself sitting in the middle of what it seems to be a cave.

She slowly risen up to her feet, her feet stumbled a bit as she felt a dull ache on her head once again. Rubbing it to ease it off atleast, Dahyun breathed deeply before returning back her attention on her current situation of getting stuck.

She couldn't find any light that would provide her to a clearer vision of everything around her. Nervous and desperate to find a route to escape, Dahyun had no other choice but to walk around and explore for a route way out.

"HELPPP!!! ANYBODY OUT THERE CAN HEAR ME?!" Dahyun pleaded as loud as she can reach on her voice. "MINYOUNG? YN? WHERE ARE-"

She paused as she recalled earlier seeing their van where her two assistants were staying in. Her emotions overtook her, releasing teardrops across her face. She also began to feel guilty, thinking that she should have ordered them to go back inside and fetch all of their equipment on her behalf.

Maybe if it wasn't for her, she wouldn't led both her friends on their own demise. Dahyun sobbed heavily as she repeated calling their names in agony.

She slammed her hand accidentally on some surface. Dahyun probably guessed it a wall where she could support herself while trailing along the cave. She took the opportunity, caressing and patting it.

However, Dahyun noticed something different. It was rough, soft, and quite sticky as she could describe. She tried to smell it, and it brought her to a familiar rotten organ smell she, Minyoung, and YN had depicted earlier.

"Huh? What is this?" Dahyun questioned herself where she is also the only one who could find the answer. With one more pat onto the strange wall, she noticed the entire area start to glow including the one where she is touching.

She roamed her eyes around, and it made her tensed to learn that she does indeed correct on her being stuck inside a cave right now, but rather everything that blocks her from the possibility of escaping is covered with unidentified type of organs.

There was a dark area on the far end just right in front of Dahyun's direction. She could swear that she had a glimpse of something that just moved there and disappeared from the shadows in a few second. "WHO'S T-THERE?!" she shouted as she started having suspicions in her mind.

Taking few steps ahead to check out what it is, a loud roar put her into halt before she was about to scream in terror. She fell on her butt and her breathing goes faster, wondering what kind of a monstrous noise she just heard.

She then saw something emerging from the drak shadows. In her utmost bewilderment and panic, an abomination has appeared in front of her, standing tall with its bulbous, humungeous and very disfigured appeareance.

It's size is like almost half of the space of the cave they're occupying, and Dahyun was in complete disbelief that the fear of YN he was trying to refer a while ago has unfortunately manifested into reality. A beast from the space or in other term made by humans ourselves, called aliens- are real in Dahyun's universe.

"D-don't come closer to me!" Dahyun tensefully said as she starts to crawl away from the monster. It blabbered some unusual noises that almost formed some inaudible words while shaking its head madly, and after that, Dahyun saw something popping out of its body.

Two slimy tentacles just came out from each sides and began crawling through Dahyun to reach each of her ankles and get wrapped. She then felt her body being dragged closer to the monster and Dahyun repeatedly yelled, begging for it to stop while tugging the tentacles with all the force she could apply to yank it off, only to end up with no effect.

As Dahyun was placed almost inches away from the gigantic alien creature, she has finally accepted her fate of being helpless and in danger. Tears filled with nothing but negative emotions streamed out of her eyes before the monster blew out some gas that has a color similar to the nectars that were sprayed on her by an infected plant earlier.

After she smelled it, she soon finds her body growing into a sense of arousal that urges her horny feelings to activate. She tried to endure it but she could swear that her skin were releasing more sweat and her pussy and her nipples are starting to become sensitive.

The tentacles must've found the lustful sensation brewing inside of her, and they took the perfect timing as one of them starts to slid through her pencil skirt and lift it up her tummy before it traces her pussy through the soaked panty. It's partner focused on her clothed breasts, bumping it and feeling its softness as it bounces.

Several more tentacles were released from the creature, but this time with various sizes and colors. Some were lighter or darker, some where thicker or thinner. The thin ones snaked through her sleeve and forcefully spreaded her top, revealing her white strapped bras containing her milky tits.

The rest then helped to remove her skirt, exposing her into half naked with her matching pair of white bra and panties. "NOOO! PLEASE, DON'T DO IT!" Dahyun pleaded until she unexpectedly released a sultry moan when a fast tentacle moves through her cheek and rubs itself on her skin.

All the tentacles starts to wrap around on her meaty thighs and slender arms in order to suspend her in mid-air. Their touch becomes even more satisfying and felt relaxing to Dahyun despite how denial the words coming out of her mouth.

Being half-naked and spreaded in front of the creature's ugly looking face, the tentacle then moved from her cheek to her lips as it continues to rub across Dahyun's pretty face. Her lips starts to pucker and the effects of the strange gas which was probably aphrodisiac as Dahyun guessed, made her more susceptible as it clouded her mind with lust and temptation.

She starts kissing the tentacle before it slid through her mouth, she sucks on it like it was a cock entering on her.

The other tentacles started to become bold also. They tugged and remove her bras and panties, finally making her naked. There's these suction cups- like tentacles went to crept up on her torso to her underboobs, feeling her perky tits bounce on their motions before its lips opened and sucked on her hardened pinky nipples.

Thinner tentacles spreaded her walls, assisting the thicker tubular object crawl and enter her tight pussy. It effectively brought another relieving feeling on Dahyun's aroused body, moaning in rhythm to the tentacle's barging on her constricted hole.

Their movements became faster and rougher, including the suction cups almost biting her nipples then returning to lick on it like there were supposed to have milk leaking out of Dahyun's breasts.

Due to the sudden increase of pace, it also din't allow more time for the tentacles to reach their limit. Despite her little efforts and strength to shake them off their body, Dahyun uncontrollably welcomes their slimy liquid that probably resembles to a man's cum, into her warm throat and womb.

She lets out a poor groan and whimper, sniffling in fear of what it could bring her after when she watched the odd colors and thickness of their cum flowing out of her. She hoped it would not cause her to get pregnant, especially if it would mean that she would breed an abnormal hybrid that sets aparts from what a normal baby should look like.

Desire is what Dahyun could just accept within her, disturbing and letting out the pleasure she has long kept to seek any solutions for it. First load wasn't enough for the tentacles howsoever, as she felt the tentacles changing their hold on her limbs to prepare her for a next position.

Still hanging from the mid-air, Dahyun's body was forced to bend, with her backdoor being the one facing the beast. The tentacles spreaded her legs, causing her cheeks and puffy pussy to open a little.

With her arms around her back, Dahyun endured all the harsh slaps of the thicker tentacles to each of her curvy asscheeks. She lost the count of how many times they played on it, too obsessed on how soft and big enough for it to give comfort on these creatures.

Funtime didn't lasted longer as they went already to the next move. She felt the girthy pair pounding both her asshole and pussy, fucking them simultaneously. Her body went back and forth at their movement.

The suction cups returned to play on her breats, tugging on her nipples and stretching them as farther her endurance could take. Dahyun hissed in a mixture of pain and pleasure only because it aided the abuse her tits were being applied at when she felt something gliding through her entire back.

She turned her head around and witnessed the alien sticking out its wide and long tongue slurping the taste of of the sweat forming across her back view.

The thick tentacles reached their climax, exploding a second amount of load to her love holes. Dahyun huffed at the unmatched energy of these active creatures using her body for pleasure.

As they release from her ass and pussy. She was repositioned again. She was now facing the monster completely before she gulped when she realized what she was about to suffer next.

A huge- like literally- gigantic cock, probably measuring around 14 or 15 inches in size unbeatable to any men's size around the world, is ready to explore Dahyun's innards. Dahyun wiggled her legs, afraid that she might break from being unable to take his girth.

But again, she is outnumbered with numerous tentacles attached to her body, imprisoning her from any attempts of escaping, even though she has no other palns anymore as the aphrodisiacs are still in full effect on her.

Their strength pressed Dahyun's body to the awaiting cock. Due to its massive size it struggled to enter Dahyun's tight little pussy before it succeeded, only for the poor scientist to scream and grit her teeth in a shocking pain while the creature twitched and produced more creepy noises.

Thankfully, it didn't last long as the impressive pleasure began to take over her body when the monster started ramming his cock on her pussy, demolishing her womb inside. She went crazily bouncing on its crotch. Dahyun's eyes are completely white, with her pupils now rolled at the back at the intense pace of fucking she's receiving.

Her mouth began to lustfully agape, with her tongue sticking out as the monster cock continues to push deeper across Dahyun's walls. Her ass starts to create loud claps around the cave as it hits the alien's crotch repeatedly.

The giant cock stuffed into her pussy then pulsated, as it erupted a terrifying amount of dirty white cum almost inflating Dahyun's stomach like she is about to be mistakenly identified as pregnant, before it slowly slid out of her pussy, allowing the rest of the load to explode out of her abused hole.

The tentacles lets go of her body, releasing Dahyun on the ground, which gave her time to rest for a while. She panted heavily and speechless at the rough fucking she just had with the monster alien. She couldn't deny that there might be no other man she would ever met that would match the performance of what this monster has showed to her.

All of the tentacles and the bulbous cock slowly erected again the more the creature stares at Dahyun's messy and sticky nude body lying on the floor. They decided to proceed with the last action, as they focus once again on her nether regions.

Lifting her up, they spreaded her arms and legs again and faced her closer to the creature. The suction cups slowly crawled on her back then cupped her full breasts from behind. Dahyun whined and moaned at the relaxing and tickly feeling it gives. One tentacle went through her tongue, a pair goes back to her pussy and asshole.

There was a twist added again coming from the idea of the monster. Wanting to give every single part of her body that could provide a purpose of satisfaction to this monster's desire, they let go of Dahyun's hands and two tentacles caressed her fingers.

Dahyun sensed their hidden message for doing that and finding out the answer, she formed a fist and gripped the tentacles, stroking them like she would do to a male cock.

All of her body and now functioning properly following the monster's command. Dahyun's mind is full of sex. She has been hypnotized and manipulated too much by the pleasure and sensation that the creature has been passing through her using its ability to fuck her senseless and take her breath away.

The thick tentacles had her overpowered and weak from the way they drill through her holes as deeper as they could get. Dahyun felt her neck bulging as the tentacle gave her a deep throat, her clit being scrubbed by a tentacle with a brush-like end on it to add more pleasure, and the other tentacle wiggling around her ass.

They all began to pull the trigger of increasing the speed while they all moved in unison, their grip on her skin went tighter as they felt this familiar tightness in their system, approaching the climax of their endurance. Dahyun squirted her juices again and spasmed at her own orgasm, resulting to her walls clamping on the tentacles more.

Few more waves, pumps and strokes they gave and finally they executed their final blow, releasing their cum flowing through her throat, ass and pussy simultaneously, as she switches through gags and moans. The two other tentacles enwrapped on her fists splashed their warm sticky liquid on her arms and side of her face.

The rest of the tentacles joined, painting Dahyun's entire body with the rest of the cum flowing and leaking out of its ends. As they finished, the tentacles crawled around Dahyun's skin, giving her body a nice calming massage to ride out their lengthy session of sex and intense orgasms they shared.

Dahyun couldn't opened her eyes wide anymore as she knew she's completely drained now. The creature slowly laid her back on the ground with her body entirely covered with cum. She also weakly spitted and coughed out some from her mouth after unable to swallow all of the load down to her filled tummy.

Now that she can have her rest, Dahyun slowly shuts her eyes as she went unconscious, while the tentacles continue to caress her hair gently and massage her body, especially her addicting round tits, as they wiped away all the stuffs around her pearly skin.

When she woke up again from her long slumber, she found herself lying on a hospital bed with her body now clothed in a hospital gown.

Realizing that she is now in a hospital and two familiar people sleeping with their head resting beside her bed, she concluded that after everything that happened to her, she was now free and safe from that creature she encountered.

She gasped and shuddered as she remembered what it did to her, it awakened her parents and quickly hugged her in response to her fine state. "Oh thank God you're okay.", her mother said.

"How are you feeling, daughter?" Mr. Kim checked up on her. "It's been days you were confined. We were really worried that something worse could happen."

"I-I'm alright… I'm just… still tired." Dahyun said in a weak tone. Her eyes became watery when she remembered Minyoung and YN. "Mom… Dad, we-… we got ambushed. They didn't make it, it's my fault." she said as her lips trembled.

"No, daughter. Don't blame yourself, we know you can't do such bad thing with whole intention. I know you." Mrs. Kim said, rubbing her palms to calm down her poor daughter.

"We heard what happened to you and your team, Dubu. We're sorry." Her father stated in sympathy. "But we couldn't help ourselves to be thankful that we have been given a miracle to have you still here, safe and sound."

"I missed you, Mom… Dad." Dahyun holds her mother's hand and looked them in the eyes tenderly. "I thought I wouldn't make it."

"Oh, by the way. If you may be wondering how did we managed to get you here, it's all thanks to your workmates. They sent a rescue on the location where they found you lying on a grass field with your…. dress torn up covering your body." Her father gulped and lowered his head in regret at the last words. Dahyun just furrowed her brows, couldn't recall that part.

Dahyun saw her mom getting choked up on her emotions. She pressed her hands on her own and stared at her eagerly. "Dubu, answer me with all honesty. Okay?"

Dahyun just listened attentively on what her mom's about to ask. "W-who did this to you?"

Their conversation were interrupted when the door opened. Two men appeared in a room, in which Dahyun speculated that it's a doctor and the other one works in the military.

"Pardon to interrupt, Mr. and Mrs. Kim but this gentleman right here is taking a visit and… to ask for a request for the both of you." The doctor said. He looked at his patient, his face lightened in relief. "Oh, you're Miss Dahyun right? Good thing that you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Fined, doc." Dahyun replied.

"Is there anything you need from us, sir…?" her mother asked.

"General Knight Yoo of the Seoul Military Army. Greetings to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Kim." the military man introduced himself to the family, performing a salute gesture. "Yes, I actually would like to speak with your daughter."

They all looked at Dahyun who became curious at the acknowledgement. "For what, sir?"

"It's regarding to that research that your team embarked near outside Itaewon." Knight elaborated. Dahyun's eyes widened in astonishment as his words struck those memories of her on that given time to repeat in cycle on her mind, including that one awful experience that she had.

"Your faculty cooperated with us in order to seek help when they lost their line to your team. We went through an investigation at that site and we found something… threatening, and we assume that since you're the only survivor in the incident confirmed yet, we would like you to enlighten us as we interrogate you about what actually happened."

Dahyun pursed her body forward slight from leaning on the bed, her face showed a puzzled expression. "Wait, what do you mean 'yet'?"

General Yoo maintained his intrigued stare at the patient. "Ms. Bae Minyoung's remains were found by the forensic team but your other accomplice, Mr. YN LN is still nowhere to be found but some of his torn out clothing were seen inside a cave. We will give it one week before we rule him as deceased."

Dahyun's switched looks at the four people gathered around her before she lured away her eyes filled with hope for her friend's disappearance from them.

Her traumatic experience of being conquered by an abomination should've brought her instantly to cooperate with the armed forces as they requested for her to stand up as the witness and part of the evidence in this important matter.

But rather, she's conflicted about what she should consider telling to them.

The idea of the alien monster who also amazingly pleasured her beyond the edge, disregarding the actual peculiar possibility behind the monster's odd behavior when she was held captive which failed for Dahyun to intepret; made her think twice on the decision she has to unveil.

[ofsappho]

Summertime Sadness (part 2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Ten years ago: the first time you met Simon

Today: the first time Ghost meets you

Tags: mental illness, therapeutic boarding school, self harm, suicide attempt/suicidality, self harm, abuse, parental abandonment, much the same as last chapter. This fic is unedited because I don’t feel like editing it lol. If you see spelling/grammar issues, no you didn’t.

TEN YEARS AGO

Reader POV

-

It’s intake day.

Intake day happens once a week, always on Wednesday.

You don’t know why they pick Wednesday. It seems pretty arbitrary, doesn’t it?

On intake day, the nurses and counselors make all the current residents of the inpatient program line up to greet the newbies. You actually look forward to intake day. Everyone here is so boring and routine; your roommate never speaks unless spoken to and she always keeps her earbuds in. On intake day, the hope that someone nice will be admitted survives for the few hours of the intake itself.

It usually dies right after. There was one polite girl who smiled when you waved last week, but she was transferred to a different facility that night before you could learn her name.

You’ve been here for three weeks, so that’s three intake days.

You’re not sure why you’ve been here so long. It seems a little excessive; you’d think by now they’d realize your stuff isn’t so bad and maybe you could transition to outpatient appointments?

It’s a little dissociation and some minor depression. Not bad at all.

But your doctors agree, albeit gently, that you should stay for the full five month course.

The program isn’t so bad. The facility sits on a sprawling multi-acre property in the British countryside, where everything is beautiful and verdant and always chilly. It’s lovely. The tea is good. You’re getting used to how they take it here. It’s nothing like the sweet tea you drink back home.

You suppose that’s another reason why they won’t let you go home even though you’re okay; there isn’t a home to go back to. Your dad hasn’t looked you in the eye since Mom left. At least the orderlies here greet you in the morning.

(What Dad doesn’t know is that before she left, she told you she loved you and to wait for her. Soon, she’ll take you away from this place and you’ll never have to see your dad again.)

Before you head to the foyer, you check your hair in the mirror of your room’s suicide-proofed bathroom. A young teenage face stares back at you with cheeks flushed red from the sun. You trace your deep smile lines with the tip of your finger, then practice smiling. You would have feel better about moving to a therapeutic boarding school if you’d been greeted with a smile.

At first, you think the newest crop of poor souls will be uninteresting at best. Listless rich kids detoxing off Mommy’s coke, frightened preteens who’ve never been away from their parents for an extended period of time, and a few teenagers straight from an ER, IV bags and all.

And then you see him get off the bus last.

He’s tall, towering over everyone else. A lanky, almost skeletal build, with a bored, aloof expression on his face. He hides the Zippo lighter he was playing with in his sleeve before the nurses catch and confiscate it.

There’s something horrifically severe about him. He can’t be more than a couple of years older than you, but he carries himself like he’s a blade and the world is filled with monsters.

His eyes are large and dark, rich brown irises rimmed with pale blonde eyelashes. And they’re kind, even though he would probably hate having that pointed out.

You decide then and there that you’ll befriend him. He could use a friend; everyone here does. He’s beautiful in his sharpness and elegant in his abrasiveness. Maybe you can coax more of that hidden kindness out, show him that it’s worth more than his anger. You wouldn’t be able to stay away if you tried.

You both like playing with fire, though you prefer less literal ones.

-

TODAY

Ghost POV

-

Your smile fades swiftly as if it was never there to begin with.

There are two ghosts in this room. That’s what you are; a ghost of the girl he knew.

He watches and waits for you to shift uncomfortably and start blabbering to fill the silence like you used to. “Why’d you make them call me?” Ghost asks when it’s clear that you won’t.

As soon as you explain, he’s out of here. Ghost meant it when he said he never wanted to see you again.

You’re the last living reminder of the past he’s tried so hard to kill. The beeping sounds of your heart monitor spell out his mistakes in a grating, irritating rhythm.

Your answer disappoints his expectations. “I didn’t actually think you’d show.” Ghost doesn’t hear any wistfulness or longing in your voice, anything that would tell him that you’re clinging on to the boy you thought he was. Only a bone-dry and hollow statement of facts.

“What do you want?”

You ignore his question. At fifteen, you were good at that. At twenty-five, you’re better. “You got any cigarettes I could bum? You look like you still smoke them,” You say as you fiddle with your torn, bleeding nail beds with the classic anxiety of nicotine withdrawal.

He does that too when a mission stretches too long without a resupply and he finishes his cigarettes early to stave off hunger.

Ghost remembers fighting with you over the pack of smokes he smuggled into the program. He would hold it way above your head and laugh as you struggled to reach them. But you never gave up - they were bad for him, and you liked him too much to see him die of lung cancer.

He remembers the determination in your eyes and your unwavering faith that he could be saved.

“They’re bad for you,” Ghost echoes.

If you remember that moment, you don’t show it. “You know what else is fucking bad for you?” Your tone is so acerbic that it gives him whiplash.

He can’t resist taking a shot. “What, being a prick?” You just… bring out the worst in him. You make him feel as unhinged and unmoored as he was when you first met.

You roll your bloodshot eyes.

“I wasn’t going to call you out on that. I was going to say benzos and vodka. Also throwing yourself headfirst off a bridge.”

“Oh.”

What is he supposed to say to that?

“Why did you come?” You ask after a long moment of quiet interspersed by that fucking heart monitor.

Ghost grinds his teeth into each other as he reflects. He hates doing that; the inside of his skull is a bad place. “…I don’t know,” He admits. Coming here was a mistake; Ghost understands that now.

The foul taste on the back of his tongue is guilt. But why? You did this to yourself. You brought him here to play games and fuck him up, so why is he the one who feels… bad?

You sigh. “Simon-“

“Ghost. It’s Ghost now,” He cuts you off with more violence than necessary.

Your mouth settles into a tight, pained line. “Ghost. Go away.”

“But you called me here.”

That provokes a reaction.

Ghost sees it and immediately wishes it hadn’t.

You stare him straight in the eye, your dilated pupils peel back his mask and see the face underneath. Your skin is tinged gray and your bottom lip blooms red with blood from where you’ve bitten through it.

He wants back the child sobbing for his forgiveness on her knees, who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“And it was a mistake, and I should never have done it, and I just wanted the satisfaction of knowing you weren’t going to pick up the phone. That I was truly alone.”

So the memory of him is a knife you’re using on yourself. Fucking disturbing.

“Oh.”

You raise an eyebrow as you wave. “Bye.”

Right.

That’s it.

Though your dismissal rankles, Ghost does as you ordered and takes his leave of you.

His work phone vibrates a few times.

Only one person calls that it. “Captain,” Ghost greets.

Captain Price clears his throat on the other side of the line. “Lieutenant. When can we expect you back?”

‘Tomorrow’ is on the tip of Ghost’s tongue.

He’s never taken a day off in his career, which means he’s got at least a year or two in built up vacation time. “I’ll be gone for a while longer, sir. Not sure yet how long,” Ghost answers promptly.

It’s only for a few more days, a week at most. Long enough to make sure you won’t try to kill yourself again, long enough for the guilt freezing his blood and choking his lungs to fade.

“Alright, Lieutenant. Keep us posted.”

“Yes, sir.”

TAGGING: @devcica @igotmajordaddyissues @almightywdm @copiasratscheese @nerdyreaderpapi @schmelscorner

[himbocoups]

˗ˋˏ Red Horn ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

synopsis: devils are contract workers - simply offer them a payment that they can never refuse, and your problems would be taken care of. the only thing is, what could a mere human possibly offer to a devil?

pairing: devil!jeonghan x innocent!reader (gn afab)

genre: fantasy, supernatural | smut, pwp

tags: flirting, food mention, office | bondage, light choking, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, oral, pet names, pnv, praise, if there's a term for jeonghan fucking you with one of his devil horns please tell me, reader wears lingerie, reader's first time, multiple orgasms...

wc: 5.4k

message from nu: this took me super long to write, but this has to be one of my favorites. special thank you to xan @aceofvernons and june @junkissed for keeping me company while I worked on the fic. I hope you all enjoy reading - nu <3

In the distance, the elevator dings sharp and clear, its ring piercing through the reception lounge as its large plum-colored crystal doors open with a rumble. Even when you sit facing away from the reception desk, you can imagine the receptionist greeting the incomer with their monotonous voice, drawling out the same script they gave to you – jet black orbs staring at you judgmentally while you try to scribble your personal information on the forms as fast as you can.

A large Prometheus-type creature in the seat across from you whimpers when its name is called, head hunched and practically trembling with every stride toward the smiling attendant. Open space in front of you, you can see through the large glass windows the hundreds of skyscrapers and verdant greenery where feet touch the ground under the red sky. This place is but a stretch, an affected area of Hell – at least for those who are not native. Even this lounge, untouched coffee bar with expensive Keurig models, circa 1920s sleek leather Barcelonas, and low mid-century style coffee tables with old filled-in Highlights magazines as table decorations, is deceiving in its own way. Because, if it wasn’t clear enough, all of you are in Hell.

Sharp teeth chattering, long tails thumping in anxiety, and sheepish whimpers, the atmosphere in what could be a beautiful place is filled with layers of dread and fear. You sit in your chair, right hand brought to your lips, while slowly peeling the layers of chipped skin off your lips, the light sweater you wore in the morning feeling as heavy as a weighted blanket. Flicking away the loose pieces to the floor a few inches away from your fuzzy teddy bear slippers, you slink further into your seat with thoughts of what could possibly come next weighing you down.

You wanted it. Correction. You still want it, even when the soft jazz playing from the speakers barely masks the distant screams and screeches that echo throughout the many halls and floors in the building. So desperate to have your need fulfilled you would even beg a devil, the devil, for even an ounce of that fulfillment.

So, when a siren with beautiful wings adorned with brown speckled feathers calls your name, you answer with a squeak and scramble to meet them in the corridor of one of the halls where they wait patiently for you with a kind smile on their face. The creature’s feathers ruffle as it elegantly struts down the bright corridor, passing various framed artworks and accolades, a file folder nestled under the crook of its left wing. Too deep in your mind, nitpicking at your outfit choice and squeaky voice whenever you answer the siren’s small talk, you fail to even notice that it isn’t the usual demon who is walking you to their office.

And the office, matte black large double doors that seem to aggrandize the more you stare at it, seems to you the most daunting thing you’ve ever experienced, dreading what’s on the other side of the doors. The doors automatically swing open when the siren approaches, and a rich puff of aroma fills your senses – strongly smoked tea leaves, spices, and aged tannin from the great oak trees you spent your vacations under during summer camps. Immersive, sultry, powerful…frightening.

The creature beckons you to follow them inside, the doors slamming shut when you enter the threshold. If you were dreading the office's interior - perhaps a grotesque chamber too scary to imagine, then the reality only confuses you. Plush gray Persian rug you’re too scared to step on, mahogany desk sitting at the end of the room, a large fish tank built into one of the walls big enough to hold a shark. It would look like a standard luxury CEO office if it weren’t for the shelves of trinkets from collectible matchbooks to eyeless Sylvanian Family figures to mysterious chained and muffled floating orbs that stand behind the desk.

Taking a seat in front of the desk, you watch the siren slowly stalk behind the desk, perching itself in the leather executive chair to rifle through the files with its back turned towards you. Your hands find each other in your lap, folded together, the right thumb twiddling with the left. It is awfully quiet, and the atmosphere is just as bad as it was in the lounge. No part of you wants to spark a conversation, afraid that the slightest conversation error could send you on a one-way ticket into the depths of hell. Does their boss know they are sitting in their boss’ seat?

However, when the leather chair turns around, you see a man frowning at what you assume to be your file – your attendant long gone. He flicks away his remaining brown feathers, letting his disguise dissipate into thin air while craning his head to the left and right to stretch his neck. A tri-toned nameplate appears at the front of his messy desk, deep burgundy red with a black center dark enough that you could mistake it for a void. Written in gold is the name “Yoon Jeonghan,” and in a smaller font underneath is his official title.

The devil, as the plate reads, cocks an eyebrow at you through his long curtain bangs, causing you to take a craven stance – wincing and lowering your head so you don’t meet his eyes. Taking a page out of the file, he presses it against the desk and slides the page towards you, twisting it with his long nimble fingers in one smooth motion so the words face you upright.

“You summoned me via a crocheted sweater, a three-year-old three-wick seasonal autumnal candle that smells like pumpkin pie, and a tiny crushed packet of Prince Noodles you found at the back of your snack cabinet?” His voice is light and airy, but the terrifying smoothness and the seemingly innocuous nature of his tone only deceive the listener – he is a creature filled with malice and iniquity.

Slamming his palm against the table, he drags the page towards himself, creasing it with the strength and anger he exerts. The slapping sound causes you to flinch, and your eyes continue to stay trained on your lap, the shrill sound of the slap still ringing in your ears.

“Look at me,” he commands you in a low tone, a voice dipped in a thick vat of bubbling tar. “Summoning me with trash? Do I look like a joke to you?”

Scared you might combust into flames the moment you look at him, yet too scared to defy his command, you slowly lift your head to look at the man sitting across from you for the first time.

If his verbal command isn’t enough to evoke fear in the most draconian demons, perhaps his physical properties - his presence and his chiseled facial structure - command creatures differently. Dark brown eyes and thin-lipped, bottom lip slick and catching the light after he runs his tongue over it while scoffing at you, you have to admit the devil is strikingly handsome in his features. Pure sybarite from the decoration of his office to the decorations he wears, he outfits himself in leather garb. Fashionable thick leather blazer with a belt cinched around the waist, a silver chain dangles around his neck, sparkling in hues of red. And the horns that sit at the top of his head, dark crimson red with the shine of the waxy Red Delicious apples that stack in a pyramid under bright supermarket lights. Elephant tusk-like: thick, curved, and blunt. You wonder what it would feel like if he…

He appears before you in an instant, sitting at the edge of his desk, leaning over, and sandwiching you between his towering frame and the back of your chair. With an apparent smirk on his face, he enjoys watching you practically whimper underneath him, trembling in your seat. Irises expanding in size at exponential speeds is a clear tell, a giveaway of your need for him.

“You’re scared of me.” He points out with much effrontery while cocking his head, his face a mere few inches away from yours. He leans back with his arms crossed, planting himself firmly against his desk. “But you’re the one who summoned me, wanting to make a deal with me, right? So, no matter how scared you are of me, you’re still the boss and I’m your contract worker.”

“Contract worker?”

You can’t believe his words. He is agreeing to your stupid little request that you thought could never be fulfilled. Summoning a demon? Summoning the devil? It sounds like a quirky group activity to do at middle school sleepovers.

“You mean why did I agree to your request?”

You quickly nod your head in response.

“I’m a man with needs. And you’re a little angel who was brave enough to offer me a deal. It’s an obscene request that nobody of your kind has offered me for centuries - although, the last one perished with my touch…but you wouldn’t lie to me, right? Sweetheart?” He almost bats his long eyelashes with the pet name, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The scene shifts almost theatrically – morphing from Jeonghan’s office to the tiny bedroom you were in about an hour ago. It seems real. All of it. The same putrid orange floorboards with dark knots that look like stains, hanging on the wall is a single bronze circular mirror your navy curtains slap against when the wind blows. You’re sitting in the middle of your bed, the old lumpy mattress you’ve been using since elementary school covered with the white checkered duvet set you found for free on some second-hand site. On the floor by the foot of the bed is a tiny space you made by pushing your jackets and plastic bags away, saved for summoning Jeonghan. Now, all that is left is soot, the Prince Noodles wrapper, and a now-stretched hand-made sweater.

Fucker. He is keeping the candle.

“It’s your first time so I can make you feel more comfortable – play on your turf. But the question is, can you take it? Can you take all of me? We can break it down into several sessions.” His suggestive tone is almost warmhearted. It almost makes you forget this is the first time you’ve met him. 

This situation would be laughable if it weren’t for the fact that you’re talking to the devil. You don’t know if he’s the type to laugh at bad jokes, but you weren’t going to test your hypothesis. 

“No,” you tell him. There’s only one thing on your mind. “One time.”

“You don’t realize what ‘all at once’ means, do you?”

Granted, if this were any other day with any other person, you would’ve faltered when this type of question kisses your ears. Doe-eyed, you watch him while sitting at the edge of your bed, a tiny nod in motion that makes him smile at you. The outer corners of his eyes crinkle, and he almost seems like a college boyfriend-esque type visiting your room for the first time - kind and patient, yet filled with corrupt thoughts.

He takes a seat next to you and proceeds to unbuckle the belt that cinches his waist. You’re too shy to stare at him while he undresses, but you can hear very clearly his garments hitting the floor one after another. The end of soft thuds and crinkles and a cool touch that turns your face to his, he holds your face in the palm of his right hand. So tender, yet his intentions are clearly laid out in the open.

“Why don’t you show me what pretty outfit you’re hiding underneath your sweater so I can show you what I mean?” his voice low, sending vibrations down to your core.

What you reveal underneath is a dainty two-piece. Thin lavender silk trim and clear organza with embroidered pastel flower details accentuate the cups that cover your breasts. The bottom matches the top, pulled high to your waistline. He hisses, forked tongue appearing for a split second before disappearing again.

“Contrary to what humans believe,” he mutters while holding one of your hands in his. “Angels don’t exist in this world. But at this moment…” He pushes a strand of hair away from your face, a subtle yet intimate gesture. He’s doing his best to prepare you for the worst without scaring you off, and you can’t help but to cling to him and seek refuge in his assuagement. “You’re the only Angel in front of me.”

Now you can see them more clearly. Dark brown eyes with bright specks of gold only a mere few inches away from yours. It makes you wonder how someone as beautiful as he can become the Devil. But he leaves no time for you to spare as he dips and plants his lips against yours. And you reciprocate with ardor, leaning back onto the bed as he changes his position so he is hovering, towering above you. His kisses are slow, focusing on making you feel good. Supple lips against your hot skin, he nips and licks at your flesh, leaving discolored hues of claret and magenta, him ravaging your untouched purity. And he takes the lead, grabbing your hands so they hug his neck so you can press him closer to you when you feel like it.

And you do. It excites you when learning how your body automatically reacts to him in need and lust: pulling him into your chest while feeling his soft skin rub against your lingerie, speeding up your kisses, and whining when you want more. He only smirks when he pulls away, looking at you from above and seeing your plump swollen lips and sexual frustration scintillating in your eyes. Your first hickeys on your neck and chest look like the beginnings of the first fallen leaves in the suburbs during Autumn. And you feel him grow against your core, a firm ball that waits to be unleashed with its owner’s command.

“Will my Angel be good for me?” He looks up at you while he traces the dainty straps that wrap around your skin, his pointer finger swirling around the yellow intricate embroidered flower that barely covers your nipple. The tip of the finger flicks against your rosy bud, and the feeling sends vibrations and shivers straight to your core. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” you barely manage to whisper. “I’ll be good.”

“Then I’ll make you feel good.”

He bends down to kiss you again, this time with more fervor as if to mitigate any of your worries or concerns. But, strangely enough, you don’t. What is left behind in the trek to his office is replaced with new feelings of greed that you desperately want to have fulfilled during your nights alone. And the man who kisses down your body, pleasing you and praising you for reacting so well to his touch, seems multifarious enough to fulfill everything you dreamed about in secret.

When he reaches your core, it’s already uncomfortably wet. He seems to pay no mind as he pries away the lily embroidery that covers your cunt, cool finger briefly brushing against your skin to reveal your tender flesh that throbs underneath his gaze. Jeonghan starts slowly, prying your thighs apart with both of his hands. Firm grip on your skin, you whimper when he frowns at you for trying to shy away. Then you feel his lips planting pecks along your left inner thigh, making his way to your slick. 

If the way he kisses you is nothing but a lust-filled way of overcoming his workload, stress, and greed, then the way he eats you out is the complete opposite. Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t dive in head first after pushing you into the deep end; he holds your hand while guiding you into the pool, letting you adjust to the temperature of the water before swimming after him. Laps you up with the flat side of his tongue, long licks around your inner folds and swirls your core like a whirlwind, Jeonghan tsks when you start to close your thighs around his head without thinking. While telling you to behave, the low growl making you almost come on the spot, he pries your thighs apart. 

Firm grip and fingers digging into your skin, the Devil presses his tongue against the area you often frequented yourself at night, never thinking the day would come when someone else is able to visit. Forked tongue draws a heart down your slick, zigzags, paddles, and swims in your juices. It feels like two tongues are working you at once, and it makes you come twice as fast, your fingers gripping the bed sheets and your body jolting upwards. Supple lips close around where you feel the most sensitive, and he eats you out in a way that tells you that you would never be able to experience something like this in the future - not with him and definitely not with anybody else.

“Aah-ah fuck Jeonghan.” You squirm while he keeps his pace, wet sounds from beneath you filling your little room while he cleans up your aftermath. “Want more.”

“Aww my little Angel wants more?” He temporarily detaches his face from your cunt, red swollen lips glistening and glossed with your cum, to smirk at you. “Why don’t you look at me and beg for it?”

But he’s meticulous with continuously making you feel good. In the absence of his tongue, he replaces the emptiness with his fingers. Rubbing your nub in between his thumb and pointer finger, the Devil uses his other hand to rub himself - his hands prepping his long and pink organ. It takes a choked sob emitting from your mouth and your eyes rolling to the back of your head before you can even begin to think about looking him in the eye. And when you finally look him dead in the eye and trail to his raging member while letting out what he thinks are the prettiest and most deceivingly innocent whines, he finally understands your cupidity. 

So he thrusts his digits in your core, your panties now magically disappearing when he could’ve shrugged them off ages ago. Two long fingers fill your virgin hole, he scissors them while feeling your warm flesh contrast in reaction to his cold skin. Pointer fingers hook around your spongy G-spot, and he uses it as a sort of pulley, pulling him into you while your stomach tightens and squeezes with every quiver of his finger. You feel yourself soak his fingers, running down into his palms. He catches every drop with his tongue, licking his hands clean and then moving on to your cunt as he continues to finger you thoroughly.

He pulls his fingers apart, creating an opening to stick his tongue in you. Tonguing you, he savors your sweetness, sucking and thrusting his tongue deeper into you while he slides his fingers in and out of you. He fills you up until he runs out of room. You feel so corrupted, never expecting any person to make you feel so dirty, disgusting, yet so well-handled at the same time. You lust for more, to feel more as he smirks against your sex and reaches his open hand upwards to grab your breast. It feels plush and soft when he kneads it in between his fingers. Simply flicking his thumb over your sensitive nub sends shockwaves down to your core, and he surfaces with your cum dripping down his chin.

“How are you feeling?” he asks you, briefly leaning upwards to catch your lips in his mouth. “Can you take more? That was just to warm you up. Are you ready for me?” he mumbles against your lips.

The taste of yourself sits prominently in his mouth. You can taste yourself as you exchange another kiss with him, slowly winding down from your high.

“I- I want to try more.” You hear yourself openly admitting while he leaves tiny pecks along your collarbone. “It felt good.”

“Just good?” He looks up at you in feigned confusion. “Come on honey, I didn’t fuck you dumb just yet. I’m pretty sure you’re smart enough to come up with better adjectives. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know how to describe it.” You gasp when he moves away from your cover to latch his lips around your nipple. “I cam- I think I came several times, but I’m still horny.” The last part comes out in a sort of whisper as if you’re afraid you would be caught by somebody if you ever admitted to being horny out loud.

“Mmm.” He groans with your tit in his mouth. “Mmf. Nothing wrong with being horny. And you did come. Several times…but are you ready to come more?”

“Yes.” You’re feeling more confident. “I’m ready for more.”

“Even if I have to tie you down?” He pushes himself up so he kneels in front of you. “I’m afraid your human body can’t take what I’m about to give you.”

“I want to try,” you reply. “‘All at once,’ remember?”

“Okay Angel.” He smiles, leaning over to put his hand behind your head to bring you upright. “All at once.”

Your face is so close to his body that you can smell the muskiness of his sex. Right in front of you is his member. It’s your first time seeing one this closely, red and stiff, and a tiny bead of precum that rolls off the tip. You wonder how it would feel in the palm of your hands, how you would be able to fit all of it in your mouth.

“Take a good look at it, Angel. Touch it or suck it if you want,” his voice is gentle yet mischievous. “Don’t be scared. I can guide you. Take your chances before I spend the rest of our time disappearing in your cunt.”

Hesitantly, you bring your lips closer to his tip, opening your mouth wide enough so your lips close around the head. It’s smooth like a cool cherry-flavored popsicle on a hot summer day, yet there’s a certain softness to the organ. You stare up at him with his head in your mouth, and he simply nods, thrusting forward a little to tell you that you can continue. 

A tiny lick causes him to flinch and then gasp, his eyes fluttering as you lick him again more confidently. He breathes out a groan when you place a hand on his waist while the other grabs his length. Closing your eyes, you hollow your cheeks and guide him in and out of your mouth, sucking and licking as you go. 

And the raging and tantalizing ache in him can’t help but to grow and extend along his erection, growing hot in his stomach as he looks down at you trying your best to suck his dick. It makes him feral knowing that he’s your first - the first to corrupt you, to coat your thick and swollen lips with your saliva and his precum, and to watch you as you clench your thighs while sucking him off. Just thinking about your request and actually seeing you try to fit him in your mouth without gagging intoxicates him and makes his mind fuzzy. But before he can begin to process his dick hitting the cold air, he feels your mouth latch around one of his testicles, gently sucking while your hand kneads the other, and your other hand continues to pump him in your mouth’s absence. 

This time, he sees you wide-eyed and staring right at him. And when your eyes roll to the back of your head, he immediately snaps and spasms - shooting white liquid all over the bed sheets. 

“Lay back down,” he demands. 

Repositioning himself over your naked body, he wipes away a few splatter marks on your face and reapplies it to your open lips. It’s hard to concentrate on the new salty taste when the Devil is staring intently into your eyes while his hands roam your body, touching and flicking. 

He asks you about punishments for making him come without warning - something about how he should prolong your virginity, a concept that you wanted him to take away. 

…it’s just a social construct used to belittle others, the contract states. But if anybody is going to take it away, then it has to be the Devil himself. 

“This might hurt a little,” he tells you. 

Invisible ropes drag your hands above your head and tie your thighs to your bed. Making sure you’re secure Jeonghan quips, “In case you try to run away.”

You can barely see what he’s doing from your angle. His dick is slowly becoming hard again, so you think he’s going to eat you out in the meantime. But nothing can prepare you for what comes next. 

It feels cold and warm, a long tubular shape slowly digging and nudging itself into your cunt. Yet, you don’t feel the same wetness you felt when he stuck his tongue in your cunt. The figure pulls in and out, sliding and squelching with every thrust. Your mouth drops open, letting tiny soundless exhales fall out of your mouth. A burning sensation builds up at the bottom of your stomach, causing you to lurch and struggle against your binds. Jeonghan only chuckles from underneath you, his face shrouded by his hair. It’s only when he pushes deep, causing you to yell his name when you realize the object he pushes into you. 

What fucks your cunt in a steady rhythm is the same crimson red, elephant-tusk-like horn that sits on top of Jeonghan’s head. He slightly turns his head so the thick and curved object hits you in the right spot, causing you to struggle, moan, and breathe heavily. 

“What a twisted angel,” Jeonghan grunts. “You didn’t think I would be able to read your thoughts? You didn’t think the Devil would be able to listen in on every single dirty thought that came across that pretty little head of yours?”

“Fuck. P-please Jeonghan,” you whine through gritted teeth. “Want your dick.” 

“No.” His tone is flat. “I’m not horny yet. Hearing you whine and mewl about how good I make you feel ”

“N-No,” you manage to say. “Can’t wh-whine if you’re choking me.”

Your invitation causes him to immediately pull out of you, therefore causing you to lurch forward with a gasp and fall back down when you’re stopped by your binds. It’s a lot clearer now, his wet red horn and the hair matted down by your juices. Still, there is nothing that could make the man in front of you become an eyesore. 

He’s objectifyingly beautiful - now not as downright terrifying as you thought him to be. Your little push of confidence, although a bit passive, goes a long way as he bends down once again to catch you between his lips, kissing you feverishly as his left hand slowly works its way to loop around your neck. 

It’s a new feeling, feeling the pressure of his palm against your neck. The pressure is light - not how Jeonghan would’ve liked to choke you, but enough so the concept doesn’t scare you away. Gently squeezing the sides of your esophagus, Jeonghan removes his lips from yours so he can see you clearly. Chin lifted up and your eyes glossed over, you seem to him to be needier than ever. He watches you as your struggle against his invisible binds, hips thrusting in the air. 

“Please Jeonghan.” You struggle against his hand. “Please. I’m ready. I’ve been ready. Please-”

“Beg.”

“Fuck,” you breathe out. “I’m begging. Please.”

He adds a little more pressure around your esophagus, making you struggle and almost come on the spot. “More.”

“W-want t-to see your pre- ah fuck pretty face lose its beauty when you bend over me while fucking me hard. I want you to be mean to me and pull my hair so my back arches while you pound into me from behind. Make my thighs quiver and tremble as my knees go red. Use me until I’m left with nothing but tears.”

“I can make you cry.” He lets go of your throat, tsk-ing at the fading soft pink imprint left behind on your skin. “But not in the way you described…You’ll be leaking from somewhere else, Angel.”

You breathe his words in like an airy aphrodisiac, filling your lungs and clouding your brain with blissful jubilation. But the tears. The tears fall when he slowly pushes into you, cooing and soothing you while you cling onto him, fingernails digging red welts into his bare back while you struggle to adjust to his size. The stinging pain feels like no other, but fuck does it feel good to have him inside you. 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, he bends over you and whispers in your ear, “Keep tightly clenching around me before I can properly fuck you and you’ll never be able to leave Hell. Understand?”

“Yes,” you reply, hissing when he pulls back.

Then he starts pushing slowly back into you, savoring how your walls etch and hug his ridges, savoring how your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head in response to your pleasure. Another thrust, faster this time. He plagues you with need, making you practically fuck him yourself by angling your legs on the bed so you can push yourself into him over and over again. He pinches your nipple in anger, but it only sends a lewd string of pain straight to your core. You find it pleasurable, your nerves heightened to a new level. 

So he puts his hands around your waist and tells you his name again - because that’s the only thing you’ll remember after he’s done with you. 

He ruts into you over and over again, harshly and quickly. The only sounds filling your tiny bedroom are your hiccups that complement the sound of his skin slapping against yours. Your whole body jerks and rocks with every thrust, your bed no longer standing in the same place, now slightly askew. He doesn’t even give you time to recover when you cum on his cock, your belly tightening, releasing, and then tightening again in a matter of a few seconds. 

“Whore,” he sneers. “Look at you, all fucked out underneath me. You can’t help but come multiple times, can you?”

He rubs your clit while pounding into you, watching you writhe in pleasure underneath him, very well unable to respond to his rhetorical question. 

“And you want me to pound into you from behind?” He mockingly laughs out loud. “All that talk but you can’t even form a word. Form a word then. Try forming a word before I cum.” 

But another wave swells in your abdomen, causing you to jerk forward in reaction. Your body feels sweaty and sore, but the pleasure rolls in waves - building in you and ejecting out of you like a consistent ebb and flow. Every single bite, flick, and word that comes out of him only breaks you even more. And you topple like a house of cards, reduced to nothing but his personal fucktoy. 

He chases his own orgasm when he feels like it, pushing into you deeply and thrusting one last time by hitting your walls so he can slowly milk his seed as he rolls his hips. And when he pulls out, he watches his liquid slowly collect at your entrance, threatening to spill out. Your body still twitches in his absence, your aftershocks squeezing and making his seed drip and run out of you. 

Your eyes are blurry, body is sore with tiny cartoonish stars floating and rotating above your head. You can’t expect the Devil to stay. He had done enough for you, more than you could ever imagine. It takes everything in you to bring yourself to whisper his name one last time before you feel him leave your side. 

On the floor where you summoned him is an invitation to summon him again:

Whenever you’re ready. He writes. I’ll make you crawl. -YJH, The Devil

[leggerefiore]

cw: sawsbuck ingo, pokehybrid au, short,

pairing: Ingo/Reader

Every season spent with your Sawsbuck hybrid boyfriend could easily prove to be an interesting one. Summer brought with it verdant leaves growing atop large antlers that made such lovely tea when dried and brewed. It was a pleasant treat to share with any kind of dish… Well, Ingo's certainly was. A linger bitter, herbal flavour that also was a lovely drink for a minor cold. He always seemed flustered when you complimented his leaves.

The autumn brought an array of colours and the need to sweep up after them. A beautiful sight, but a big mess. At least the developing fluff was nice to nuzzle into and nap against. Winter came with the complete loss of leaves and shedding of antlers. The massive fluff at least made up for the sad loss. Spring thus renewed the cycle as the antlers began to regrow, and flowers began to swell into a blossom.

Of course, there was one piece of this cycle that fascinated you the most. The fallen antlers mostly came in the earliest months of the year and often were difficult to find. Ingo naturally was a bit embarrassed by his sudden urge to knock off his antlers and disappeared off into the forest to do so. You had found yourself enamoured with the idea of going out to collect them. Many people did, after all. It was just a thing to do when you were hiking. However, you specifically wanted some of Ingo's own. The idea of having some random Sawsbuck's antlers felt a bit odd, and your boyfriend would likely feel a bit jealous or confused.

This led to you following the deer man out into the woods when he took off one late February afternoon and watched as he found a tree and began to rub his antlers against the bark. His face broke its usual stoicism as it twisted in a rare frustration. His brows narrowed, and his lips pursed. It was clear that the feeling was not something overly pleasant. Eventually, though, a good knock saw the left on free itself and fall onto the dirt below. Ingo let out a sigh when it fell. Again, he returned to the task, determined to remove the right. It, too, fell. He then backed away and ran back off into the woods, do to whatever he preferred to do around this time of year. You crept over and picked up the discarded antlers with intrigue.

They felt similar to a smooth, petrified wood. Hard and inmalleable yet clearly something earthly. A slight scent even drifted from them. You hummed as you took your prizes back home, debating just what to do with them. Hanging them up seemed like an interesting possibility, but the way it would mix with a room's decor would play a part. Just as you pondered it more and more, a fun thought crossed your mind.

~

Ingo felt exhausted as he trotted back to your home after having a nap in some distant field. Winter was just a tiring season. He always thought. His body clearly entered some state of reservation, while he became less inclined to aggression and general movement. Spring, however, was soon to come, and with it would bring more exhaustion as the blooms on his antlers began. This would not fare well with his work. He already felt flustered enough, having to take off to regain himself. His body tormented him even worse by giving him a late shedding this year. The relief of finally doing so was not something to be understated, of course.

He rubbed his eyes as he opened the door and announced his presence. With no reply, he blinked. Were you asleep? Entering properly, he carefully crept through the home so as not to disturb you. The soft taps of his hooves upon the hard floor came to a sudden stop. Stepping near the living room, he spied a distressing shape within the dimness of the room.

Antlers sprang out from someone's head as they sat facing the television screen. Ingo held his breath. An… intruder? It certainly did not seem to be Emmet as he had just left his younger twin not that long ago. Carefully moving in, he tried to wonder his next course of action. Without antlers of his own, he would not put up too good of a fight against another Sawsbuck hybrid. He finally entered the room and nearly screamed when the person turned to face him.

“Oh, hey, Ingo!” Your voice startled him more than anything, “I was wondering if you had got lost or something.” You faced him, clearly still yourself, but with antlers on your head. The dim light made it impossible for him to tell how you had them on your head, but he fought back another scream when you casually slid them off. “Look what I made,” you approached him, “I followed you out today and took your antlers. I hope you don't mind.” Ingo blinked.

“P-pardon?” he replied. You stepped towards a wall. The light was flicked on, and he understood. A headband. You had made a headband. “Oh, bravo!” he almost found himself clapping. It was quite creative. “You could have simply asked for my antlers,” he gave a normal reply after calming down, “There was no need for you to venture out in this cold, dearest.” Though, he did find it a bit strange. Perhaps it was from his perspective of having antlers naturally at play. You gave a small laugh and smiled.

“You looked so startled,” you finally told him. Ingo felt his cheeks flush. Had he? His heightened heartbeat certainly confirmed that claim.

“… All I saw was another being with antlers on our couch,” he explained, “Would you not be distressed if you saw another Sawsbuck hybrid in your home?” You thought on it for a moment before nodding.

~

“Hey, Ingo?”

“Yes?”

“When your antlers regrow, will you battle me?”

Ingo felt even more exhausted suddenly.

[ash-rigby]

Verdant Transmigration (Spring/Fertility God) [M/M]

Featured Characters: Male human and a male nature god.

Description: Marion, a cleric of one of his town's four resident nature deities, undergoes a ritual to become the next Vessel for Ta'lir who, among many things, is a god of fertility. A merging with Ta'lir requires a more physical element than a purely spiritual one.

Contains: Masked Nonhuman, Size Difference, Aphrodisiacs, Sex Magic, Fellatio, Hand Jobs, Self Lubrication, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Excessive Cum, Mild Cardiophilia.

Completion Date: March 23rd, 2024

Word Count: 3485

This isn't the next requested piece but it was the one I was getting ready to submit to this year's Spring issue of M❤️NSTER. I wound up not making the deadline but I like it too much to wait a year to share it, so I finished it up and here it is!

-

Marion walked into the ritual chamber under the gazes of many, his nude body catching the flickering firelight. He knelt on the floor of the temple as one of the other priests began to lay out a circle in sacred earth around him. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, drawing in the spicy yet floral smell of the incense. Drums beat softly on all sides and the sound of low flutes seemed to tickle the nape of his neck. 

He wasn’t nervous, as those around him expected him to be; he had spent the last three days since the previous Vessel’s death in deep meditation to prepare for being the next. Adola was a magnificent woman, a constant through all of Marion’s twenty-five years. A solemn presence with a gentle, motherly hand. Her grace had inspired him to devote his life to the god she carried within her—whom he would carry in her stead.

His city enjoyed the watchful eye of four nature gods, corresponding to the seasons and each with their unique divine favors to bestow. Some blessings and miracles, others that brought simple comforts through the unavoidable trials and pains of life. Whatever their will, it was channeled through a human host; a Vessel that embodied all they were and served the people. But a mortal body is a mortal body, releasing both spirits in death. 

With Adola’s passing, Ta’lir—a god of Spring—had returned to the Ethereal Grove where he fell into dormancy, awaiting rebirth into the mortal realm. The Transmigration ritual for each god involved a performance to inspire a merging of their spirit and that of the willing Vessel. There was the exuberant dance for Summer, a melancholy yet ultimately hopeful song for Autumn, and a grueling test of endurance through cold for Winter.

Ta’lir, among other things, represented fertility. Pleasures of the flesh were a common mode of worshipping him. As a priest of Ta’lir’s temple, Marion had partaken many times; alone, with one or two other clerics, and in the grand orgies. He was more than prepared for what was required of him in the ritual ahead. A spiritual and physical union with Ta’lir.

Marion felt a presence step in front of him. There was a rustle of fabric and the sound of bare feet padding against stone. He opened his eyes to see the High Priestess smiling warmly down at him, her face framed by long, brown hair. She held an ornate cup carved from wood in her hand which she leaned down to hand to him.

“Euphoric passage to the Grove,” she said in blessing as Marion took the cup.

He brought it to his lips, familiar with its contents. The cooled, maroon-coloured tea was brewed from a dried mix containing amiculus clover petals; a powerful aphrodisiac despite its mild, unremarkable flavour. Its influence on the body was enough to carry over even in the spirit through astral projection. Euphoric indeed.

Marion gave the empty cup back to the High Priestess. Another cleric, short in stature, took it from her and replaced it with a shallow bowl of dark paint. She knelt and began to mark him with the shapes and lines that would be branded into his skin once he merged with Ta’lir, denoting him as his Vessel. 

The tea quickly took effect. Heat swirled in Marion’s stomach before migrating lower as a pleasantly tingling pulse. His cock throbbed, gradually filling without a single touch until it stood erect. Need washed over him but he would not be stroking himself or seeking partners in the crowd around him. For once, that wasn’t a part of things; his body and ecstasy were promised solely to Ta’lir that day.

Marion breathed, his cock full and heavy. The High Priestess’ touch was warm and soft, her captivating bluish-grey eyes frequently holding his as she worked. He shivered at the memories of times he had the honor of worshipping with her. A hitched gasp left him, hips jolting slightly, as she finished the final line—a single, agonizingly slow stroke up the underside of his shaft.

She left him panting in the center of the circle, stepping back to join the other clerics who began to chant. The sacred earth gradually gained a bright green glow. Fractal patterns drew themselves into existence and spread inwards from it. As they reached Marion, the lines painted on him erupted with the same light. He was struck by the extraordinary pleasure of it.

His entire body felt alight and sensitive. Nobody was touching him, but the very air seemed to caress and tease. The chanting grew louder, the glow around him flaring as the ripples of invisible sensation intensified. It was like a fire; wild, blazing, hungry. Nipping, licking and leaving trails of desperation across every inch of him.

He fell back and only just managed to catch and hold himself up on his shaking arms, legs spreading open of their own accord. The flutes faded out but the drums beat harder, the sound of them pounding through him. Somehow in perfect time with every throb of his leaking cock. 

Marion tilted his head back, face angled at the ceiling bathed in that green light. Splayed out like this—wantonly moaning and achingly erect—he couldn’t help but feel like a beast crying out for another of its kind to mate. With that thought, the words came to him, spilling from his lips as if someone else had seized his voice.

“Take me, Ta’lir,” he implored to his dormant god. “Oh, Lord of my flesh. My erotic master. Take me!”

His vision became an all-consuming white. Images flooded his mind but did not linger on a single one for long. Wet, dripping holes swallowing his shaft. Slick cocks rubbing against his own. Tangles of hot, sweaty bodies thrusting and grinding. Groping hands. Eager mouths. On top of the drums and chanting came a rising, desperate cacophony of disembodied moans.

Just as Marion felt it all coming to a head, like he might just cum, a hand was placed on the center of his chest. It gave a hefty push and everything stopped. 

The surging, full-body pleasure was whisked away in a second. Though his cock still strained and he could feel the effects of the tea coursing through him. Silence settled around him like a fog, broken only by his heaving breaths. 

Marion was outside; he could feel a cool breeze on his naked form. There was birdsong and the whisper of leaves. The smell of earth, flowers, and petrichor filled his senses. He only realized then that the white light was gone, leaving darkness. His eyes were closed. Feeling slightly foolish, he opened them and awe took his breath.

The Grove was laid out in all its glory before him.

He was kneeling on a stone circle, carved with the same patterns that had sprung up in light back in the temple. Four tall, mossy pillars rose around him, made into the shape of rabbits standing on their hind legs, noses pointed skyward. Beyond that was a rich, verdant sprawl; long grasses, full bushes, and a dense wood that ringed the clearing he was in.

Directly ahead was a short staircase which led to a colossal tree. Marion gazed at its thick trunk and spotted a carved-out portion in the middle which contained a floating, glowing green mass. Lower still, sitting on a throne that melded into the tree, was the unmoving form of Ta’lir. 

Marion stood, not expecting the strength in his legs given what he had just gone through, and walked towards him. He had seen all of the sculptures, scrolls, and murals depicting Ta’lir’s likeness, but nothing could have prepared him for the radiance of the genuine article. 

Even sitting, the god was tall. Whatever visage he had, if any, was completely obscured by a wooden mask of a hare’s head that bore three eyes. There was a thick, lush mantle of vegetation growing from his shoulders that flared behind his head, speckled through with flowering clover. The torso and arms of the body looked carved from wood, though sleek. Marion could see the intricacies of it. There were joints that would allow Ta’lir to move with the ease of flesh and bone. 

The chest was a hollow like the one he had seen in the tree, though the hole was grated over with thin, uneven, wooden lines that intersected and split here and there. The result was a myriad of varying-sized, ovular holes. There were no innards to speak of; sunlight peaked through them to show the solid plane of the other side.

The wood of the upper half faded into the more flesh-like appearance of the lower, though green and mossy. Marion swallowed when his eyes travelled there and he laid eyes on it. Though dormant, Ta’lir was sporting a large, impressive erection. His thick shaft, with its enticing slight upward curve, stood proudly. Waiting. Propelled by piety and arousal that had far from relented, Marion wasted no time in kneeling between his god’s legs.

His hands lighted on Ta’lir’s thighs. The cock before him was almost intimidating, but reverence won out. He mouthed at the hanging, virile balls before working his way upwards. The taste was an ambrosia on his watering, roaming tongue. He licked the sensitive underside of the head, bringing his hand up to the shaft as he did. The sheer girth of it showed itself as his fingers couldn’t close around it.

Marion closed his lips over the round tip, stroking all he could. As he did, he felt a sudden throb against his palm. It came with a sound; a deep, heavy heartbeat sounding above him. He looked up to see the mass in the tree beginning to pulse just as a bright green glow came to the eyes of Ta’lir’s mask.

The large body drew in a breath—into what lungs, Marion didn’t know—and released it with a low, appreciative groan. Ta’lir shifted, his head rolling on his shoulders before tilting down. Marion’s heart pounded as their eyes met, but he didn’t dare stop; he couldn’t bear the thought of taking his mouth or hands off Ta’lir. 

A chuckle, cavernous and gratified, resounded in his mind rather than outward.

“Hello, dear one,” Ta’lir said, his voice thrumming through Marion’s entire being. It was reminiscent of the feeling he experienced during the ritual, though far less sourceless. “And have my thanks for—mmhn—for restoring me.”

Marion responded by taking Ta’lir further into his mouth, bobbing his head and pumping his hand over hot, turgid flesh. The god moaned and it went straight to Marion’s dick, spurring such an intense throb that his eyes briefly rolled. He could cum like this. Just from sucking Ta’lir’s cock. Just from the divine presence of his voice. He upped his pace, yearning to please and dizzy from the pleasure of every noise his efforts worked out.

“I know you,” Ta’lir said. “This eagerness…this lust. Oh, sweet Marion.”

With a wet sound, Marion pulled off of Ta’lir, his hand never stilling as his chest warmed in admiration.

“My reputation precedes me, Lord?” he asked breathlessly, eyelids flickering from the simple action of Ta’lir brushing a tender finger behind his ear—what it was going to feel like getting fucked by this being in this state was beyond his comprehension.

“Come here,” Ta’lir said, tapping his thigh. “Let me see you.”

Marion obeyed, climbing up into his god’s lap and straddling him. His cock raged, weeping onto Ta’lir; a simple but effective tribute. He was panting, well aware of his hole’s proximity to what every part of his insides ached for. Three glowing eyes gazed upon him. Though no emotion could be discerned from them, he could sense the radiating fondness. 

“Such a handsome figure,” Ta’lir marveled, fingertips lightly trailing over his Vessel’s sides. The smile in his tone was felt. “And this…”

His hand went to Marion’s dick, taking it between his massive forefinger and thumb. He began to stroke. Slow pass up. Pause. Slow pass down. The pattern repeated as he remained fixated on Marion’s face, drinking in his moans.

“My previous Vessel was a woman without this,” Ta’lir said. “I did love the change of pace, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss burying myself.”

Marion gasped; unable to speak, shaking from his god’s touch and the waves of his voice.

“You must get a lot of attention,” Ta’lir continued, stroking a little faster. “Such a big, gorgeous cock. This heat…and you throb so strongly. I can’t wait for it to be mine. Oh…we’ll do great things together.”

Marion felt his other hand reach to caress the small of his back, gliding down over the mounds of his ass. A long, dexterous finger breached him with surprising ease; was it his imagination or was he wet? His spirit’s burning desire to take Ta’lir into him in more ways than one must have manifested such things. That one, brief coherent thought melted away as he was deeply penetrated, a second finger swiftly joining the first.

They pumped rapidly, striking true against that near-blindingly sensitive spot inside him. His body jolted, back locking into a rigid, trembling arch as his breath halted. He was lightheaded by the time he was able to suck in air again through in quick, whimpering heaves. With a loud wail, he partially collapsed against Ta’lir, his fingers curling onto the inconsistent lattice that was his chest.

“T-Ta-Ta’lir! I can’t, I can’t—ahh!” Marion cried. “I’ll c-cum. I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum! I’m—!”

“Not until I do,” Ta’lir corrected, almost sing-song. “By what other power did you think we become one? I’ve been asleep for days…allow me some amusement.”

Marion’s head swum, time becoming an unknown blur. He wasn’t sure how long he experienced Ta’lir fucking him on his fingers, but every second was exquisite. If one was keen to equate the word to denial, that is; and he was. 

“You’re amazing, Marion,” Ta’lir praised. “Sucking me in so well. If this is how you take my fingers, then—.”

“Please, Lord,” Marion begged, forgetting himself at a mere insinuation. “I…I need it—.” 

“Not yet, my dear,” Ta’lir said, probing faster into the wet, yielding passage. “Not yet.”

True to Ta’lir’s promise, release didn’t come. Marion remained tottering on its edge. He bounced unconsciously, meeting the thrusts of those thick, relentless fingers. His cock felt engorged, hugged by his balls as his body was trapped in those euphoric seconds before orgasm. The roiling pressure, the fever overtaking his shaft, feeling the rivers he was leaking. He had never known such ecstasy; the Grove’s influence was a marvel.

Marion felt no exhaustion when Ta’lir finally removed his fingers. There was only exhilaration and hunger. He shifted his hips, moving until his ass found Ta’lir’s dick. Meeting the glowing eyes once more, he nudged it insistently. His hole was dripping. Twitching. Wanting.

There was that chuckle again. “How rude of me. Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you, Lord…thank you.”

Marion lined himself up and lowered down. His body shouldn’t have been able to take it entirely. Couldn’t have been able to. But it did, opening up as if driven by pure devotion. Every broad inch claimed him slowly until Ta’lir bottomed out. 

“Oh…oh, you’re perfect,” Ta’lir praised. 

The joy of such a connection with his god was overwhelming and Marion nearly cried. He sat there in hopelessly aroused disbelief, stuffed full and feeling every pulse that throbbed alongside that constant heartbeat. It grew faster as he began to grind.

He kept it slow; now that Ta’lir was inside him, he found himself wanting to savour it. Shallow thrusts were achieved as he lifted up slightly and slid back down. Even that pace felt like being stirred up, the sheer size of Ta’lir’s cock stretching him past his usual limits. His sweltering walls caressed and squeezed—mostly of his own doing, but involuntary clenches were inevitable.

“Yes,” Ta’lir breathed, a visible shiver running through his large frame. “Dance for me.”

His hands came up to cup Marion’s undulating torso, settling over his ribs as the thumbs found his nipples. The wide pads rolled and teased. Marion arched into the touch, expelling a breath that was equal parts a moan and a laugh; it tickled for a moment before settling on pleasure.

It wasn’t long before Ta’lir took control again. Effortlessly, he began to lift Marion up and down his cock. He would get him halfway up the shaft before dropping him to the hilt, that mysterious slick leaking out around him. His head tilted back against the throne as he groaned long and deep.

“Take me…take me.”

Marion’s breath hitched at hearing his own words echoed at him. “I’m yours.”

Ta’lir growled, a sound juxtaposed with the serene herbivore his mask depicted. It was more arousing than it had any right to be. He gripped Marion’s hips and began to pound up into him, grunting with each thrust. His cock seemed impossibly harder; thicker, swelling in its confines.

Marion’s mouth was open, stunned silence occasionally broken by moans cracking his voice to a higher register. He swallowed up that monstrous shaft as if he had been made as its sheath. Like he would be hollow without it. But Ta’lir would fill his empty spaces. Until death parted their spirits.

“I’m yours, I’m yours—ahhh, I’m yours!” he chanted.

He felt himself moving. Ta’lir was standing, hands supporting Marion’s ass as his cock stilled firmly inside. He turned them so he could kneel backwards on his throne and press Marion into its back. His thrusting resumed, faster than his previous position had allowed. A quick clap of meeting flesh filled the Grove.

Marion clutched at Ta’lir. The scent of earth and something more akin to a mammalian musk flooded his nose. The latter grew stronger the more Ta’lir thrust, close to overwhelming the rest and laced with intoxicating pheromones. Marion could practically taste it and drool began to gather in his mouth. He moaned, his hole becoming a desperate vice against the burning beast of a shaft plunging into him.

Gone were Ta’lir’s words, replaced by growls and other feral noises of pleasure as he slammed. Those once-gentle hands gripped, digging deeply into the meat of Marion’s ass. His precum was abundant and incessant in its flow, adding to the lewd squelch of every thrust. It had to be running down his balls, making a mess and dripping onto his throne.

The ever-present heartbeat above their writhing forms raced. Marion was vaguely aware of the glow of that pulsing mass reaching for them in vein-like streaks down the tree’s trunk. Their markings ignited and he felt the first tell-tale throbs making their way through his cock, matching the pace of that pulse. He was close. They were close.

“Cum with me,” Ta’lir said, his voice rough. “Cum…with…!”

He suddenly stilled deep inside and warmth surged into Marion a split second before his own orgasm gripped him. He wailed, explosive ecstasy rushing into every extremity as he excessively came. It seemed endless, spurting from him as his hole milked a similar, copious stream from Ta’lir. 

There was a flood; dripping down his sides, flowing into him. Pump after pump. Two voices, loudly moaning, were beginning to be drowned out by the furious thumping of the tree’s pulse.

Marion’s vision whited and—.

He was back in the temple, kneeling in that circle. His abdomen and thighs were covered in splatters of his own cum. It didn’t cease upon his return, pleasure working through him and making his hips buck as his cock continued to burst. His hole twitched uncontrollably; he could still feel the heat of Ta’lir’s seed and the stretch of his girth. The room was silent save for his own unrestrained moans as his divine orgasm was given proper reverence. 

A faintness washed over Marion as the magic tied to the ritual abated. He collapsed and was descended upon by some of the other clerics. They welcomed him back—a greeting for him and their god. He was vaguely aware of being wrapped in multi-coloured, flower-embroidered cloth and carried to the baths. Gentle hands cleaned him with steaming, pleasant-smelling water as he continued to shiver.

Through heavy eyes, he inspected what he could see of himself. The painted marks had permanently bonded to his skin in swirling lines of brilliant emerald green. But otherwise, he felt no different and a distant pang of concern came to him.

Did it work? Had he been enough?

The High Priestess was carding her fingers through his hair when a familiar voice came to him, clear in his mind; murmurs of praise and contagious excitement for a promising future.

End

Masterlist

[sugarygetoo]

flower fields where love is grown

-> pairing: diluc x fem! reader.

-> cw/ tw: none

-> wc: 1.2k

-> an. hi y’all! i’m so excited to be able to share this fluffy story to help y’all heal from the angstyness that yena has been posting. i did my best with going through and editing this to make sure it’s the best for you all! i hope everyone enjoys <3

main masterlist. | genshin impact masterlist.

✎ xoxo, viz

The field of asters and cecilias were not a common sight together but they fit perfectly, complimenting each other in a uniquely simple way. Accompanied by the gentle blowing wind and the sweet, sweet smell of flowers paired with delicious desserts. A small but elegant stone cottage sat in the middle of said flower field, giving the most beautiful sights that someone could enjoy. 

In the antique window of the cottage, sat the master of Mondstadt’s wine industry himself, reading a newspaper and drinking some homemade dandelion tea. Not far from the redhead sat his wife, sewing up one of his damaged coats that had torn from one of his battles as the Dark Knight Hero.

Nevertheless, the couple quietly enjoyed each other’s company as they had their respective cups of tea beside them. A vase of cecilias and windwheel asters were placed on the table between which Diluc and lover sat. 

Now you may be wondering, ‘how did someone as serious and grumpy as Diluc manage to get married? Especially to someone as sweet and gorgeous as his wife?’ Well, it’s a simple question really. They met in this very field. Where their love grew like the flowers  they planted together.

6 years before: the sun gently shined down on Diluc’s fair skin, the sky sparsely filled with fluffy white clouds and the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the man’s red hair. Diluc had decided to take the day to go on a walk around Mondstadt, specifically in nearby open fields that sat close to Dorman Port. Diluc had been in the area to attend some previous business from the day before. His work at the winery and as the Dark Knight Hero was causing him a lot of stress and he really needed a break.

When Diluc arrived, he was astonished by how pristine and verdant the land was. Cecilia flowers scattered around the vibrant forest green fields while a feminine figure sat in the middle, drawing away in a sketchbook as she sat on a white and red polka dot blanket.

The closer he got, the more details he could see of her. Her skin glowed under the sun's gaze. Her simple white dress was sewn with patterns of beautiful cecilia flowers, her hair styled to compliment her dress perfectly while a simple flower crown made of cecilia's had laid on her head. The temperature was perfectly warm, the cool breeze keeping the temperature comfortable to work and travel in.

Soon he stood behind her, not daring to touch the blanket where she sat or utter a single word to her, feeling increasingly more nervous the longer he was near her. He could hear an amused giggle escaping her soft lips as she continued to sketch what seemed to be a traditional Mondstadt dress concept design, notes beside her sketch book detailing the important information that needed to be included.

“I know you're there, you don’t have to stay so silent. It’s just the two of us here, ya know.”

She teased with an amused tone. Diluc did not speak, how could he when in the presence of someone with such beauty and kindness radiating from their soul. She couldn’t help but to continue to giggle at his current silence and shy reaction.

“Why don’t you come and sit down with me, sir. I’ve got plenty of room for another person to sit. Besides, I could use the extra company.”

He remained silent, but regardless, he sat down beside the lady. Keeping his distance and holding his tongue to avoid any conflict or troublesome interactions. The two introverts did not speak much to each other while they sat together. Diluc could only watch how the blowing wind affected the nature around them or glancing over occasionally at the woman’s work silently. 

The quiet atmosphere around them was peaceful and comfortable. This one time unique chance meet ended up turning into a once a month meet up where they would quietly sit together in the same field. Either working on their respective tasks  or cloud gazing with each other quietly under the gentle shining sun. The two were only 19 at the time this first started, but soon their love for each other would grow.

After a few meetups, Diluc would come more frequently as they’re friendship progressed. The month apart would turn into every two weeks then that would turn into a once week meetup. Everytime, Diluc would be greeted with a gentle smile and excited expression from the woman he had learned to grow to love. He learned that her name was (name) and that she was a seamstress from Dorman Port. She inherited this field from her grandparents, so she would come here every day to enjoy the verdant surroundings while also taking care of the land in return.

The more they saw each other, the closer they felt on both a physical and emotional level. She understood him in ways that he didn’t know was possible. More than his father or his brother or even himself. The two of them could feel the attraction between them blossoming into something deeper. 

Eventually, Diluc asked (name) on a date which was excitedly accepted by her. They ended up having a picnic in the field, chatting and getting to know the other person better. They laughed, they smiled and ended the date with cloud gazing, holding each other’s hand and giggling like young children again, despite being 20 years old now. 

The couple had gone on many more dates over a stretch of a year. Whether it was being on walks around the forest near the cecilia field, planting some windwheel aster seeds and helping them grow nice and strong, or heading into the main city or the Port to do a bit of shopping together. 

Anyone that had a functioning brain could tell how strong the love they had for each other was. They were each other’s soulmates and the other half of themselves. They loved each other so much that Diluc made sure to propose to his lover with the prettiest ring he could find. As soon as she saw the ring, she immediately started to bawl her eyes out and cried out her joyful acceptance.

They ended up married the next year and started working on their small but cozy stone cottage in their flower field. The couple’s hope was to use the area as a venue for their small wedding  and later use it as a family cottage home.

4 years after getting married, they were now expecting their first child in about seven months time. Diluc chuckled at the memories of their younger days together. Soon getting up to give his wife and mother of his children, a gentle kiss on the lips and on her growing belly too before leaving the house to grab more wood for their fireplace. 

This field of cecilia and asters is where their love grew and continues to grow; where they first met, where they shared their first kiss, where they got engaged, where they got married and now where they will be starting their family together.

@ sugarygetoo, all rights reserved.

[lunarubra]

Hi :) this is the first chapter of the Shadow of the Sea, let me know what you think about it in the comments. A big thank you to @cillmequick for beta-reading and being the sweetest person ever. I wouldn't have published it without her assurance that it doesn't completely suck.

Pairing: Cillian x OC (Jiyan)

Summary: In this AU set in 2010, Cillian has just finished filming 'Inception'. He has never been married, and after a few disappointing relationships, he finds himself feeling blocked in his personal life, even as his career continues to rise.This is a completely fictional story, not based on real life. I wrote this with the utmost respect for the man and his family.

Warning: Homesickness, Family Distance, Mention of Sexual Assault (not between OC and Cillian), Sexual Harassment, Date Rape Drug/Roofies

Words: 2700

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Part 1: Eire's Depths

Closing the laptop with too much force, Jiyan started massaging her temples, hoping to alleviate the tension and praying she wouldn't have to deal with a migraine anytime soon.

The library was silent; the only sound was the rain against the windows, soothing the last students. Even if the new semester just started, there were only a few people left in the study area on a Saturday afternoon. Most students had already headed to the pub for a pint or were getting ready for the clubs later.

Jiyan checked her phone, noticing too many messages she had been ignoring since the morning. Sighing, she opened her brother's chat and found three unread messages.

14h11: Ready for a call later?

16h22: Mom is pacing, almost started ironing. You need to call tonight.

18h42: Seriously sis... if you don't call tonight, I will sedate her and take the first plane to yours.

Jiyan chuckled and quickly answered Mikael.

19h13: Ironing, huh? Almost need an intervention.

19h13: Will call soon, little bro. Don't despair.

Clearing the table of books and notes, she put her laptop and the last few things away in her backpack.

Outside, it was raining. Again. 

And it was dark. Already.

Coming from a country where the sun kissed Jiyan's skin almost every day, the continuous rain on this island pierced her heart each time. She was tired and hoped to get home, have a cup of tea, and finally make the call she had been postponing for the last two weeks, perhaps even forgetting what she was doing on this verdant yet depressingly weathered island.

The ride to her place was fast, and the bus was on time, something she was gradually getting used to. Entering the small studio made her feel restless and anxious, intensifying the pressure on her temples. Looking around the space she had started calling home in the last few months did ease her discomfort a little. 

Having spent her childhood moving to different countries, Jiyan was acutely aware of the housing crises almost everywhere. Still, she was taken aback by the difficulty of finding a flat in Dublin.

After a month spent in a hostel dorm and countless useless house visits, her desperation reached a point where she considered a dubious Craigslist post seeking help in renovating an old studio. 

When she first checked it out, she realized the studio was actually above a car repair shop, and apparently, no one had lived there for about 30 years. Sean, the guy who owned the shop, almost cracked up when she asked about costs and materials. It took her a good 5 minutes to persuade him that she was capable of almost any woodworking task and that she could undertake the restorations in her spare time and during weekends if she could live there. They struck a deal: Sean would foot the bill for materials, and until the renovation was done, she'd cover her living expenses by doing all the work herself.

After two months of solid effort, she'd managed to put in new wood floors, set up a functional bathroom with a brand-new shower, and even start building herself a kitchen. Sure, the place was small, didn't have central heating, and still looked like a bit of a mess, but the one thing that sealed the deal for her was the wood stove. It reminded her of her mom’s cabin up in the mountains, where she'd spend lazy afternoons by the fire, lost in a good book with a cup of tea in hand. So, if she could bring a bit of that cozy feeling into her new place, she figured she'd be all set, even with juggling her university work and research study.

It took a couple of minutes to get the fire going and put the kettle on for some fresh mint green tea. Once she finished her first cup, she dialed her little brother's number.

"Finally, are you becoming such a loser that you're spending your Saturday at the library now?"

"It's called work, Mika. Something you'll learn soon enough."

"Yeah, of course, like I'm not living with a psychopath right now. She almost started ironing the bed sheets, Aji. We need an intervention here, immediately. Mom never cleans; she moved from Turkey because she couldn't stand spending her time cleaning. You need to convince her that you're fine."

"I am fine," Jiyan repeated for the thousandth time. "And Mom moved from Turkey because we're Kurds, and she wanted to avoid spending her time in jail for teaching her language in school."

"You're fine?" Mikael said incredulously. "You're living in the land of Mordor. It's been a week since you've seen any sun; I checked the weather!"

"It's not that bad. I'm starting to like the rain," Jiyan said, convincing no one. "And I like the job."

"Is that Aji?" she heard her mom in the background, stealing the phone from her brother.

"Aji, how are you?" her mother's worried voice asked.

"Hey Mom, I'm good. Mika told me you need an intervention."

"Your brother should be studying for his finals, focusing on his Latin test," Jiyan's mother said after a pause. "It's been weeks since we've heard from you, Jiyan."

Jiyan stared out of the window, feeling guilt and pressure rising in her chest.

"I'm sorry, Mom. It's just... I'm super busy with work and renovation here. I started building the kitchen from scratch, and most of the time, I forget to check my phone. I'm fine, really," she tried to reassure her.

"You're avoiding, little star, and today is a difficult day for you. You should be here, not alone on an island without sun," her mother insisted.

Jiyan really didn't want to have this conversation; she moved to this island to avoid this topic.

"It's all good, Mom. It's not a big deal," she said. "Also, I'm meeting new people; it's a good change," she added, feeling the lie stinging her tongue.

She heard her mom sigh. "I miss you, little star."

"I miss you too, Mom. Also, Mika, I need to go now. I'll call you next week."

"You do that, or I'm sending your brother there to check on you."

Jiyan chuckled and smiled. "We'll lose him at the first change of trains."

"Every battle has its losses."

Now really laughing, she closed the call. "Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, little star."

Jiyan put down her phone, staring again at the window. She knew she needed a distraction and couldn't spend the rest of the day inside alone. Not even building furniture could distract her today. 

She put on her jacket and boots, grabbed the keys, almost sprinting outside in the rain. 

Again.

Snap.

5 points.

Snap.

5 points.

Snap.

15 points.

Sighing disappointedly, Jiyan walked over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. It had been two weeks since she discovered this pub near her place. The music was usually pretty good, and it could be a cozy spot during weeknights. It wasn't usually too crowded, which suited her just fine. She'd come in to have a soda and play darts, avoiding the regulars and the occasional group of tourists who tried to strike up a conversation.

She knew she stood out as a woman in a pub on a Saturday night, playing darts alone. That night, she had already dodged two American tourists who tried to flirt and offer to "teach her" how to play. 

On the other hand, the regulars, after giving her strange looks for the first couple of nights, now hardly noticed or bothered her, accepting the odd loner who didn't drink beer and spent hours throwing darts. Tonight, unfortunately, the pub was busier than usual, with some tourist groups disturbing her vibe.

Feeling a presence behind her, she tensed up immediately.

"Hey, baby, what are you drinking? Can I buy you the next round?"

Jiyan turned around to face a stranger who looked like the typical Chad character from any American high school drama.

"No thanks, I'm good," she replied shortly, turning back to focus on her game.

"Come on, I saw you looking at me. You were checking me out, I saw you."

"Excuse me?" she said, annoyed, not having a clue what he was talking about.

"Yeah, when you went to order your drink, you smiled. The guys and I are having a blast; you could come join us. I promise you a great night."

Jiyan took a deep breath, trying not to get too annoyed. "Listen, Chad, if that's even your name—I don't care. I'm not here to make friends or have a good time with your guys. I was having fun until 30 seconds ago when I didn't even know of your existence. Can we go back to that, please? Thanks, bro."

"My name's not Chad," he replied, irritated.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Jiyan said dismissively, hoping the conversation would end there, and she could get back to her new form of therapy: throwing darts.

Chad returned to his table muttering something about a "stupid bitch," but Jiyan didn't have the energy tonight to educate a stranger about basic respect and boundaries.

She took the last sip of her lemonade and headed to the bathroom, ordering another one from the bartender. When she returned, finding the new bottle of lemonade near the dartboard, she resumed her evening.

Cillian was onto his second pint when his attention wandered again to the peculiar woman in the far corner of the pub, throwing darts.

She seemed to be in her late 20s, sporting a hand-knit beanie that partially obscured her long dark hair. Her frame was small, drowned in a pair of jeans and an oversized dark hoodie. Each time she retrieved her darts from the board and turned around, Cillian found himself momentarily distracted from the conversation, captivated by her large green-leaf eyes.

Despite her efforts to blend in with her dull, oversized attire, every straight man in the pub couldn't help but notice her attractiveness.

Dermot, noticing Cillian's repeated glances, remarked, "She's new around here, lives in the area, spends her nights alone playing darts. Connor was annoyed the first night because she doesn't drink or eat, but apparently, she tips well, so we see her almost every night now."

Cillian raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Do you stalk all the newbies at the pub? Should I be worried? Should I give Connie a call?"

Dermot chuckled. "Like you didn't glance in her direction every five seconds. Just doing you a favor, pal."

Snorting, Cillian covered his blush with a sip from his pint. "I was just curious, and I wasn't staring at her the whole time."

"Sure, sure. Maybe we don't need to worry about you after all. You've been holed up in your basement for a month, and now look at you! You should go talk to her."

Cillian shook his head. "I'm gearing up for the new role, and it's been busy..."

Dermot glanced at his friend. "It's okay, you know, to try again? You're not a bad guy, and not all stories work out, mate."

Cillian looked down at his pint, taking another sip. He hadn't wanted to go out tonight and dwell on his last relationship. After a couple of weeks of seclusion, he was finally finding his balance. It wasn't that he missed her; they both knew the interest had faded months ago. They had reached a point where they were uncomfortable around each other and only ended up hurting one another.

He was just tired.

At 34, he was already questioning if this was it, his life—filled only with jobs he loved and relationships that would fill his life for a few months before inevitably ending.

Glancing up, he noticed a tourist from a nearby table approaching the young woman. Dermot and he said nothing for a moment, watching with interest. She appeared mostly annoyed and seemed to handle the situation well. After a brief exchange, she returned to her darts, and the guy slunk back to his table looking disgruntled.

Dermot chuckled after a sip from his pint, jesting, "Or maybe not the best idea, it looks like not even your piercing blue eyes would work this time."

Cillian snorted. "I think Enda would kill me if I showed up tomorrow with anything less than perfect condition. He owns me until the end of this play."

"Best not risk it, then."

They spent the next half-hour joking, with Dermot updating Cillian on Corinna and their new pregnancy. Cillian tried not to glance at the dartboard anymore, but he couldn't help but notice the American guy hurrying back to her corner after she ordered something from the bar, only to return to his table before she came back. Hopefully, he had finally realized she wasn't interested.

Around 11, they both decided to settle the bill and end their Saturday night.

Connor asked if everything was okay, and they both tipped him generously. It had taken some time for Cillian to find a place where no one cared about him or his career, and he didn't want to ruin it.

While Dermot quickly went to the restroom, Cillian cast one last glance at the dartboard, only to find the corner of the pub empty, with only her half-drunk bottle remaining.

Connor followed his gaze and grunted. "She forgot to pay, these damn tourists."

Surprised, Cillian looked at him. "I can cover her tab..."

"Why should you?" interrupted Connor, waving his hand dismissively. "She's here most nights; it will be covered, don't worry."

While waiting for Dermot, Cillian's eyes wandered to the American group's table, where they were laughing and shaking their heads conspiratorially. He noticed almost immediately that the persistent guy was missing and a bad feeling washed over him.

"Ready? Conie's going to kill me if I get home too late again, and maybe this time I can avoid sleeping on the couch," Dermot said, noticing Cillian's worried expression.

"What?" he asked Cillian.

Shaking his head, Cillian replied, "Nothing, let's go. Goodnight, Connor."

"Goodnight, lads."

Stepping outside, the cold, fresh air jolted Cillian awake. The street was quiet, unusually empty for a Saturday night. Glancing around before bidding farewell to Dermot, something caught his eye. In the corner of the street near the alley that led to the back of the pub, he noticed a jacket he recognized from inside. Dermot was saying something to him, but he wasn't paying attention, drawn closer to the alley where he found the guy from inside with his arms around an intoxicated young woman. She seemed unaware of what was happening and unable to stand on her own.

"Hey! What are you doing to her?" Cillian exclaimed, getting the guy's attention.

The guy jumped, almost letting the girl fall to the ground.

"Just helping her, man," he replied quickly. "Mind your business and go back inside."

Dermot, who had reached Cillian by then, also saw the scene unfolding before them. "What the fuck is happening here?"

The guy appeared more concerned now and, realizing Cillian wasn't alone, released the woman he was carrying, pushing past Cillian to leave the alley.

Cillian quickly moved closer, trying to catch her before she hit the ground. She now looked unconscious, and he gently laid her down, checking her vitals.

"What the fuck, man, this is so fucked up," Dermot said.

"Dermot, call 999. I'm not sure if she's breathing properly," Cillian said, alarmed. "Who knows what the fuck he gave her."

He wasn't paying attention to his friend but was focused on trying to make her a bit more comfortable. After a few moments of cradling her head, he noticed her scrunching her nose and grimacing. She opened her eyes, and Cillian found himself momentarily lost in them.

"Hey," he said softly as she stared at him. "It's going to be okay, alright? Just breathe; the ambulance is coming."

She didn't respond, just continued gazing at him with those beautiful green eyes, looking a little confused.

"It's going to be okay," he repeated, even softer this time. "I'm here. You're not alone. Just rest."

And she smiled, causing his heart to skip a beat, before closing those bright jade eyes once more.

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Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Your feedback, in any form, makes me happy. See you at the next one :)

amazing dividers from cafekitsune

[cygnus-cypres777]

Pick a Pile Tarot Reading- Why did I have this dream? Dream TAROT

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆���₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

PILE 1 - Eye Photo

Why did you have this dream or what did your dream mean?

You may have had a dream with a couple different people, there may have been an ancestor trying to reach out to you they want to help protect you at this time. I feel like you are very in tune with you subconscious emotions and your dreams may be very vivid. You feel a calling like the dream world is calling to you, maybe you are being more called to an unconventional spiritual path, if so, go for it.

Water will be very healing for you at this time, taking baths with Epsom salt or drinking tea and healing with water will be very good for you. You also may be a water sign, Cancer, Scorpio, or a Pisces. I am also getting Leo energy. Your dream may have been telling you that the connection you feel to your lineage or family line is real and your spirit guides may be trying to connect you with your ancestors. This is a very fertile and verdant time for you. I feel like you may be connected with swans or cranes or geese, these animals may be a sign for you. You are healing a lot in your sleep and this is an important thing for you at this time.

You are also very mentally active during the day so at night you get to mentally unwind. You may have dreams about being active or traveling. This means that you are motivated and plan for the future in you unconscious mind.

You may also be creative and like Japanese Studio Ghibli films.

You may want to look into the "Anima and Animus" archetypes as this may prove to be helpful for you.

Thank you for reading <3 Blessed Be.

_____________________________________________________________

PILE 2 - Moon Book Photo

Why did you have this dream or what did your dream mean?

You might dream about things you want to manifest and might enjoy reading. If you dream about conquering your fears this is a good sign. You may be a person who lucid dreams or does astral travel, it is good when you are able to make decisions in your dreams and it helps you problem solve in real life. You are maybe dreaming about rivers and bodies of water, as well as sculpting or shaping clay or removing obstacles. You may be dreaming about places you lived while you were growing up. This is you reflecting on your past and healing.

You might be having dreams about flying, this is a sign that you are looking for freedom. Freedom will come to you when you take action.

You might be wanting to be more healthy in your life, this is affecting your sleep and dreams. Look into the term "Sleep Hygiene" as this may be beneficial for you at this time. You might be dreaming about forests or jungles. You may be dreaming about old friends and you are longing for them in the astral.

You may be a Sagittarius or a Fire Sign- Sun, Moon, or Rising. Aires, Leo, or Sagittarius.

Conquering your fears is an important theme in your dreams and this is healthy.

Thank you for reading <3 Blessed Be.

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PILE 3 - Stargirl Photo

Why did you have this dream or what did your dream mean?

You may be having dreams about different animals and animals might be showing up as omens in your dreams. You may be seeing, dolphins, cats, rabbits, butterflies, or deer. These all may be signs for you. You might be seeing signs from your past life in your dreams, or you might just be feeling really connected to your higher self right now. You might have an old flame or relationship who keeps showing up in your dreams. This is your subconscious dealing with this and moving on.

Sacred Geometry and Shapes may be showing up in your dreams. You should google what different shapes mean, like the universal hexagram as well as circles and triangles. You may be at a standstill at the moment and your dreams are showing you what you need to let go of and release so that you have room to grow. You may be having a few nightmares lately and this might be about something you need to face in your waking life.

You have a very strong and lively spirit and you are very protected.

Thank you for reading <3 Blessed Be.

[forbidden-sunlight]

I’m not seducing the female lead’s obsessive father!

[yandere!regis floyen x agent!reader headcanons]

PART FOUR: POINT OF NO RETURN

PART THREE

warning: spoilers from the manhwa, obsessive behavior, implied violence. Please take caution.

Hey guys, hope you’ve been doing well and ready to dive into this next chapter! Special thanks to @impeakcharacterdesign and @rouecentric, you guys are awesome! I seriously could not have finished this on time without your honest feedback and assistance with writing some of the more difficult parts. 

So without further ado, let’s go ahead and get started~! :)

Interacting with the characters of the various worlds was an unavoidable part of your job. How were you supposed to complete your task without the necessary information? The simple answer was that you couldn’t and only a fool would attempt to go in blind. 

The Chapter was willing to overlook a few instances of intimacy if it was for the sake of the mission. But only a few.  An agent going beyond attaining information and forming an attachment to a denizen of that world violated the organization’s rules.

You had no intention of going back to being a high school girl who bullied the female lead out of jealousy due to an illogical, unrequited love for a scumbag male lead. You deserved more than being cannon fodder. 

Were you greedy? Yes. Petty? Absolutely. Why exactly Jubelian Floyen sent an invitation for tea at her family estate in a week, to a ‘loyal’ member of the Empire? You were not certain, though you hoped you could find out swiftly before the organization noticed your movements in the forbidden world. 

They always had a way of keeping an eye on their agents without any of them knowing, yourself included. 

Fortunately, you were able to keep yourself busy until the day for the tea party had arrived. Not wanting to keep your esteemed host waiting too long as the Griddlebone estate was near the capital, you made the necessary arrangements to leave early enough but not too early so as to not surprise the female lead with arriving unexpectedly. 

When the carriage stopped at the main gates, the driver spoke to the armored guards briefly before they granted passage inside towards the main palace. Stopping at the entrance, the footman quickly pulled down the iron steps and then opened the door. Upon stepping out, he graciously offered a gloved hand to help you climb down from the carriage. 

A chorus of voices unanimously welcomed you and your escort when the two of you approached the bottom of a bone white staircase. On either side, servants were lined up. Duke Regis Floyen and his daughter Jubelian stood at the very top, wearing matching elegant outfits fitting for a tea party. You bowed your head towards them, curtseying alongside the footman. 

Once pleasantries were exchanged, you were led inside the estate. 

You had no idea what would happen today, but you prayed that this tea party would be the last time that you would have contact with either character in the novel world. 

When you walked through the doors, a shiver crawled down your spine. There was something going on in the Floyen duchy….something very, very, wrong. 

Regis was shocked and nervous all at once when his aide informed him that Marquess Griddlebone had accepted his daughter’s invitation for tea. 

How in the world was Jubel able to accomplish such a feat when he himself could not persuade that woman to come to the duchy without hearing her rejection almost immediately?

Nonetheless, he is pleased at this unexpected turn of events. He was not too worried with the arrangements as Jubel had done an excellent job when she held a tea party for the very first time. He asked if he may attend as well, if not for a little while as it is customary for the hosts to greet their guests. He did not want to appear so rude as to be absent when someone is visiting his daughter.  Jubel agreed. 

When he saw Marquess Griddlebone walk up to them in a verdant gown with golden leaves, he felt his heart hammer against his chest at the sight of her beauty. He greeted the marquess with a bow and kissed her gloved hand. He wanted his lips to linger there further, but i t would be considered rude by the rules of nobility. 

Nor did he want Marquess Griddlebone to be uncomfortable in his presence. 

Pulling on the reins of his self control, Regis moved away from the young woman and allowed Jubel to lead their guest to the lobby. He followed close behind as a silent observer. Earlier he had explained to Jubelian that his schedule for the afternoon was cleared, as such he wanted to see what kind of woman that Griddlebone truly is.

His daughter agreed with him wholeheartedly, though she believed that their guest was marginally better than Lady LaRue’s company. 

Jubel, bless her sweet soul, stumbled with her words in Griddlebone’s presence yet the latter did not say anything. Instead she flipped her fan open and asked his daughter about her interest in books, music, amongst other things. 

The shift in conversation eased Jubel’s anxiety, allowing the younger aristocrat to lead a discussion about poetry and the latest opera performed in the capital. 

Yet if Griddlebone was comfortable in their presence, why did the hand that held a teacup tremble? And her fist…she clenched it around the folded fan so tightly. Was her ladyship all right? Was she ill?

Regis wanted to say something…but what could he say without drawing too much attention to his daughter’s guest?

Just when he was about to speak up, however, a servant and Griddlebone’s footman interrupted their tea time. They apologized to him as well as his daughter for the intrusion, but there is an urgent message from their guest’s estate.

Marquis Griddlebone, a man in peak health, had suddenly collapsed in his office. Everyone in the family was required to come home immediately, including his only daughter. The news obviously caught the calm and collected woman off guard, as she stood up and bowed her head to them. She is terribly sorry that their time together has been cut short but she must return home post-haste. 

Jubelian was sympathetic and offered to escort their guest to the main entrance as well as reschedule their little get-together. He was also in agreement, inclining his head and hoped that the marquis was all right. 

Griddlebone nodded, turning to the footman and ordered him to bring the carriage around before Jubelian led her out of the drawing room. 

Regis felt disheartened watching as Lady Griddlebone was escorted out by his daughter. Heavens knew He had many wants in his troubled life, yet perhaps his want for her to stay was amongst his most desperate. 

His eyes roved over the place she sat, imagining that she was still in that chair, smiling at him lovingly. He was distracted from his daydream when something caught his eye. 

“Ah — it seems Lady Griddlebone left behind her fan.” He said to no one in particular. 

She must have left it in her haste, he realized. An unexpected glee rose in him at the thought of her leaving a piece of herself behind — even if unintentionally. It felt like a gift, just for him. 

“I’ll have it sent to her estate at once.” His aide reached for it and before he could pick it up, Regis swiftly grabbed it. He didn’t know why, but the thought of someone else touching the only thing he had of her had him panicking. He felt as though they would erase any trace of her. 

He felt slightly embarrassed by the confused look his aide shot at him and quickly tried to save face. “The lady is an important guest and even something as simple as returning a fan must be treated carefully. I’ll see that she gets it back myself.”

His aide jolted, surprised at the sudden declaration but quickly schooled his features to a mask of indifference before he nodded. “As you wish, Your Grace.” He bowed his head and left the room, closing the doors behind him.

Now alone in his office, he allowed himself to indulge in his fantasies. He caressed every fold of the fan, thinking about how she had held it in her hand so tightly, it would be wonderful if she held his own the same way. He would never let her hand slip from his grasp. 

The craftsmanship was remarkable, truly fitting a woman as elegant and wonderful as her. If given the chance, he would shower her in riches just as, if not more so, luxurious as this fan. 

He hesitantly pressed his lips along the fan’s edge, reminiscing on how her skin felt against his lips as he greeted her. If they were alone and if she were willing, he would have gladly gotten down on one knee and kissed each of her fingertips. He was sure that if he was allowed to indulge himself in her presence just a bit, he would be able to hold on just a bit longer with her.

Just then, a bright light illuminated the room. Alert, Regis grabbed the sword concealed under his desk and raised the blade over his head but halted when his eyes saw golden words floating in the air, a dark green tint highlighting a text that made his heart hammer against his chest.

“Would you like to make a deal?”

[inusmasha]

In a secluded mountain village run by a society of mysterious women, Kagome, a young initiate, embarks on a transformative journey under the mentorship of their highly esteemed miko, Kikyo.

💎 Chapter 1 : “Prologue -A Dark Fairytale”

🐦‍⬛ Chapter 2 : “Before the Beginning”

Amidst the vast and verdant earth that stretched far beyond the gentle curve of the horizon, a stately gray mansion stood in stark contrast. Its solid structure overlooked endless rows of bushes, neatly arranged on sun-kissed slopes, creating a sanctuary for the tea that would soon grow. These tea bushes were famously known throughout the country to be much beloved by the emperor’s wife, which was a source of immense pride. And wealth.  ➴ Continue ➴