#AND THE. HOLE WHERE HIS EYE USED TO BE GLOWING EVEN WHEN HIS GOOD EYE'S CLOSED EXCUSE ME IM GOING NUTS!!!!!!!!!

[ufonaut]

We shall end this in the ancient way: one foe devouring another. As our ancestors did. Yours and mine -- in the forgotten days. Before the comet fell to Earth, tainting my blood. Before the green metal corrupted yours. When all was natural-- savage-- and pure.

Alan Scott in JSA: Classified (2005) #13

[ckret2]

who wants a prism break?

So, the Theraprism! The Theraprism sucks, right?

This is like, a good day.

The Theraprism clearly sucks.

Have a one shot of Bill escaping Theraprism with the most desperate escape plan imaginable: reincarnation.

(Warning for, as you might expect, psychiatric hospital abuse.)

####

There are fates worse than death. Like boredom, for instance!

####

Everything was black and numb and silent and cold so so cold but no he could only call it cold if he felt cold and Bill didn't feel coldness there was just the absence of a feeling the absence of heat the absence of light the absence of sound the absence of touch the absence of air.

The absence of everything.

Bill had loved a void once—a micro black hole. Every time they touched it slowly killed him, spaghettified his limbs, drained his energy. His energy was so vast that she never claimed a drop of a drop of a drop of his reserves—but it still hurt like nothing else to be crushed and stretched and ripped and consumed by her event horizon. The pain was wonderful. Being shredded was ecstasy.

This void was the opposite of her. 

He couldn't even feel anything when he tried to scream—without air, he couldn't feel his vocal plates vibrate. He couldn't feel his hands, his face, his eye; he tried to bite himself just to feel something and he couldn't feel his mouth, he tried to rip open his wounds and couldn't find them; why couldn't he see his own light, why couldn't he see his blood, where had he gone, was he gone—

Reality returned like a light bulb being switched on.

The first thing he registered was a shrill sound on the verge of inaudibility; and then the pain in his eye, his sides, his wounds; and then the dull gray light, the hard floor under his knees, the antiseptic stench in the air conditioning.

He stopped screaming. The shrill sound stopped.

"Energetic as always, are we?"

Bill blinked blearily at the Orb of Healing Light hovering before him. He croaked, "I'll regurgitate you."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." A glowing translucent clipboard manifested in front of the Orb. "Well, you've gone through this enough times to know the drill! Do you need a moment to recover, or—?"

"No no, I'm fine, I'm fine." Bill slumped forward, trembling hands on the floor, waiting for the vertigo to pass. "I'm fine. Do your thing." He'd rather get the post-Solitary Wellness Void reorientation interview over with.

"Perfect. What's your name?"

"I'm ol' Vinegar Pete."

"No clowning, please."

He sighed loudly. "Bill Cipher."

"Good. Where are you?"

He considered saying hell, but decided he'd used up all the clowning he could risk for one day. He didn't want to go back in. "The Theraprism. Ward 333."

"Very good. When are you?"

"I was gonna ask you," Bill groaned. "How long was I in the hole this time? A million years? Ten million?"

The Orb checked its notes. "Eight minutes."

"Wh—no, no I know that time moves slower out in reality than in the prism. I'm not asking how much time passed in reality, I'm asking how much time passed here."

"Eight minutes," the Orb repeated. "Outside the Theraprism, one third of one second passed."

Bill groaned again and flopped flat on the floor.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Why are any of us here?" Bill asked the gray linoleum tiles. "Usually because some dumb beast tripped into the booby trap that sets off its reproductive process. How's your species work, you pop outta nebulas, right—?"

"I meant, coming out of the Solitary Wellness Void."

"Oh." Bill tried to remember what his infraction had been this time. "Because I failed to escape."

"Because you tried to escape."

If he'd succeeded, they never could have punished him. "Sure."

"Good, you seem oriented to your surroundings. Let's get you to the nurse and then back to your cell." The nurse? What did he need a nurse for?

He only realized then that he must have succeeded in reopening his wounds in the SWV: the never-quite-healed crack across his exoskeleton was wider, the edges chipped and bent. It hurt. His eye socket hurt too; he tasted blood. With the way his whole body usually ached after leaving the void, he hadn't even noticed.

Through the crack in his exoskeleton, his edges had frayed into fine golden threads. The sight of silvery blood on his hands made him nauseous; he hastily looked away and reminded himself it was only his own. 

####

As Bill wearily followed behind the Orb and two security guards followed behind him, he had to periodically turn to hover sideways to streamline himself. These days he was so weak that he could feel the air resistance pushing back against him when he floated; with his wound reopened, he felt like the air pressure could snap his exoskeleton along the crack and break him in half.

"You're not Emmy," Bill said. "You're, uh..."

"A-AOX4."

"Oxyyy," Bill said weakly. "Heyyy. S'been a while. Usually I get a personal welcome back from the void, why didn't Emmy show? Don't tell me it doesn't see me as a threat anymore!" He'd be offended if it didn't. D-SM5 was the closest thing he had to a nemesis these days. Even if he couldn't beat it, he wanted to think he still irritated the daylights out of it.

"Director SM5 couldn't make it. It's overseeing the preparations for Paingoreous's reincarnation."

"That's today? Good riddance." Paingoreous had started getting sanctimonious the past few hundred group therapy sessions—don't you have any compassion for your victims and it's possible to live a happy life without slaughtering all your enemies first and maybe I should ask for permission before I vivisect my friends' faces—passive, self-defeatist crap like that. Vivisecting your friends and seeing who complained was how you found out who your lame friends were! Now that the wet blanket was leaving, the rest of them could get back to spending their sessions reminiscing about the glory days and trying to set the donuts on fire when the therapist was distracted.

"Yes," A-AOX4 said pointedly, "it is good he gets to leave to go become a productive member of reality. We're all so happy that he's rehabilitated enough to earn a new chance at life." (Bill rolled his eye. A-AOX4 ignored it.) "Wouldn't you like a chance to rejoin reality, Bill?"

More than anything. He'd been in this crystallized brain's perpetual dreamscape for what felt like both a thousand years and a single day—time never passing, an eternal inescapable moment. He'd tried to break out, sneak out, or bargain his way out more times than he could count; sometimes he was locked in the SWV as punishment; and sometimes the staff gently stopped him, confiscated his supplies, and chastised him for the effort—and the reminder that he was as powerless as a child was worse than the void. He'd gone delirious from the boredom, hallucinating screams and burning faces as his mind struggled to stimulate itself (and he'd been medicated for it). He'd so despaired of escaping that he'd looked for a way to burn up the remains of his energy and vanish for good (and he'd been medicated for it). He ached with the need to see the stars again.

But not enough to sell his soul for it. If he took the staff's route—let them break him down, sandblast off his rough edges, erase everything that made him him, and finally physically transform him into some alien creature—then whatever left the Theraprism would no longer be Bill Cipher.

"What, and force you guys to find a new 'unique case'? I wouldn't do that to you! I know how much you love me," Bill said. "Besides, why would I go through all that just so I can reincarnate as a sentient snowflake, or Mi-Go antennae lice, or..."

"A butterfly," A-AOX4 cut in, an edge of impatience creeping into its tone. "Paingoreous has chosen to reincarnate as a butterfly. We all think that's a very productive way to channel his desire to digest his own skin."

"Unless it's one of those blood-drinking butterflies, lame." Bill scoffed. "Wait—hold on, you said butterfly? Like an Earth butterfly?"

They were, of course, not actually speaking an Earth language, but an interdimensional pidgin that borrowed words and grammar from dozens of worlds. When around the Orbs of Healing Light that held half the staff positions, Bill tended to speak a dialect of the pidgin that used flashes of light for 40% of its vocabulary. It was perfectly possible that the word Bill knew as "butterfly" was also used for some alien creature, but—

"Yes, an Earth butterfly. A Vanessa atalanta, to be precise."

Aw, boo. Not even a cool butterfly. "He's reincarnating on Earth?"

"Yes. Many of our patients reincarnate on Earth. As long as you're careful about which region and century you reincarnate into, it's at the top of our recommended list of Goldilocks zones."

There was another phrase that Bill recognized, but this time he was sure his definition was not A-AOX4's definition. "Whaaat do Goldilocks zones have to do with reincarnation."

"You didn't pay attention to the orientation session on our outpatient reincarnation program, did you."

"What! I didn't get an orientation session!" said Bill, who probably didn't remember any such session because he didn't pay attention to it.

"Well—we rank millions of planets and their dimensional parallels based on their potential to help patients reintegrate into reality. We do try to set our patients up for success," A-AOX4 said. "To qualify as a Goldilocks zone, a planet has to meet the Theraprism's rigorous list of criteria: its lifeforms, cultures, laws of physics, and position in interdimensional society must all be conducive to a patient's continued recovery. We want to ensure that our patients' new lives are neither so difficult as to retraumatize them, nor so easy as to let them coast by avoiding continued personal growth, but right in the middle, so that they're emotionally and spiritually challenged without being overwhelmed. The Goldilocks zone: a perfect compromise between two extremes."

"Yeah, sure, sounds great." Bill could feel his eye glazing over in disinterest. Fight it, Cipher.

"Do you miss Earth?"

Bill tilted to glance askance at A-AOX4, and was surprised to see it had turned to focus a spotlight on him. Oh—it thought it had finally found a carrot to dangle in front of him. That was a popular strategy here: they figured out what a patient wanted most, and then used it to coax them into good behavior and "rehabilitation"—better still if they could attach a sense of urgency to it. Don't you want to see your descendants again before the last of them dies out? Don't you want to see your homeworld before its sun swallows it? Don't you want to reconcile with your god before the heat death of your universe?

But Bill had no universe, no homeworld, no family; no lovers or friends or gods that hadn't betrayed him and left him to rot here; and he'd remained smugly steadfast in refusing to give D-SM5 and its minions anything else it could use to get under his chitin. He was proud that he was too broken for even the famed Theraprism to fix him.

A-AOX4 probably thought it had finally found an opening. It might be useful to let it keep thinking that.

"You kidding me? Earth? Pfff! I don't miss that overgrown asteroid one bit!" He waved off the suggestion, and winced when the gesture tugged wrong at his reopened wound. "But hey, you don't study a world for millions of years without finding a few things about it to like. The music's pretty good. And the movies and literature, though if you ask me, they peaked between the first two World Wars. I like trees, evolution did a great job with trees. And humans really went off with the architecture. The pyramids? 10 out of 10. And some of the locals aren't bad, I've got a few exes from Earth."

"Do you? How many exes?"

"Living? Just a hundred forty or fifty," Bill said dismissively. "Earthlings just have those pretty eyes, you know? I'm a sucker for a pretty eye! But outside of that, no, there's nothing on Earth for me."

"I see," A-AOX4 said lightly, and dropped the conversation.

Hook, line, and sinker.

####

The original definition of a "Goldilocks zone" came from astrobiology. The Goldilocks zone was the ring of space around a star in which an orbiting planet could support liquid water and thus water-based life: not too close to the star and too hot, not too far and too cold, but just right. Earth, for instance, orbited Sol in its Goldilocks zone.

It was from this definition that other, more metaphorical definitions of Goldilocks zones emerged. Such as the Theraprism's: a world that was neither too stressful nor too boring for a newly brainwashed—sorry, "cured"—patient. And apparently Earth was in that Goldilocks zone, too.

Which was very interesting to Bill—because in their search for a new home, the Henchmaniacs had come up with their own definition of a Goldilocks zone. For them, it was a dimension close enough to the Nightmare Realm with a thin enough barrier that they could easily punch through it, but not so close and so thin that puncturing the barrier would pop it like a balloon and cause the dimension to immediately prolapse into the Nightmare Realm—which was a problem they'd had before. More than once. They needed a dimension they could easily cut a hole into, but control it, so they could slowly pump the Nightmare Realm's contents in. A barrier neither too vulnerable nor too strong, but just right.

And wouldn't you know it—but Earth happened to be in that Goldilocks zone too. Right next to a point in the dimensional membrane so thin, the Nightmare Realm could almost stretch through and kiss it.

####

Since Bill Cipher was infamously known as the last survivor of a trillion-years-extinct species, and had until recently been capable of instantly repairing himself, there were no medical records on how his anatomy worked. It didn't help that at some point eons ago he'd somehow managed to graft a 3D exoskeleton to his 2D anatomy without breaking his own physics, meaning no one had seen his true body in recorded history. Bill knew how he worked, but refused to offer any hints. So the Theraprism staff had to guess at Bill's medical treatment.

But Bill was still made of energy, and even weakened he could eventually self-repair. So whenever his injury was exacerbated, the nurse tended to just patch up his exoskeleton to keep it stable enough to send him back to his room.

On top of his mysterious anatomy, the staff had no idea how to medicate his physiology. They knew he could be medicated—Bill's personal substance (ab)use experiments were notorious far outside the Nightmare Realm—but they had to treat him like a newly-discovered form of life in figuring out what affected him, how it affected him, and how much it took. He'd been on and off hundreds of drugs as they tried to chemically stabilize a mind for which they had no idea what baseline stability looked like. D-SM5 had told him that between the enormous doses needed to impact his energy-based physiology and the vast variety of drugs he'd been through, Bill's medication regimen was the most expensive in the Theraprism. He took some pride in that.

He had very few things to take pride in anymore. He clung to what meager victories he could.

If Bill got his way, he wouldn't be medicated at all. None of the substances they wanted him on were what he'd call recreational. (Although for a while he had gotten away with not telling the docs that one of his antipsychotics had given him a side-effect of kaleidoscopic hallucinations.) Plus there was the fact that he'd heard rumors that quite a few pharmaceutical execs were good pals with a certain director—not that Bill would name names, of course!—that's his motto, Don't Slander Maliciou5ly!

But when he resisted taking his meds, they could send in the guards to pin him down so a nurse could inject a sedative so strong he wouldn't remember anything that happened for the next few hours to months (hard to tell) until they started tapering it off... and although he'd rather die than admit it, after losing that fight five or six times, even he had to admit to himself it was a lot less scary to just take their rotten drugs. Better to go through his days with his mind dulled and hazy than blacked out altogether.

To retain what little pride he had left, he'd reached a compromise with his jailers.

When the nurse had finished attaching the reinforcing splints around Bill's injury, they grabbed a medication measurement cup, filled it halfway with syrupy eye drops, and double-checked Bill's chart as they dropped thirteen different pills (plus a fourteenth pill for a painkiller) in the cup.

As Bill redressed, he eyed the unappetizing cocktail of antidepressants, antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and things he'd forgotten the purpose of but that probably weren't doing whatever the doctors hoped and definitely weren't doing anything Bill liked. "My straw?"

"Right, right." The nurse handed over one of the wide-diameter disposable white straws they kept on hand for patients who struggled to drink (or, in Bill's case, patients they struggled to get to drink).

Only a tiny fragment of Bill was actually locked up in the Theraprism—like pinching the glowing lure of an anglerfish in a trap while the rest of the fish thrashed outside—and because most of Bill's vast energy was elsewhere, he was nearly powerless. But he still had enough energy to heat up a finger, twist the straw around it, and hold it there until it had melted into a new shape.

The nurse sighed. "Do you have to do that every time? You ruin more straws than you get right."

Imperiously, Bill said, "Leave me to my whimsy." He tugged off the straw when it had cooled down to examine the corkscrew shape he'd made. The wall was a little flattened in one place, but he could pinch it back open. "See? It's perfect!" Cheerfully ignoring the nurse, he stuck the straw in his cup and slurped down his pills like tapioca balls. He tried not to remember what was in them.

A-AOX4 had left Bill with the nurse, but the two mall cops with medical kinks known as Bill's personal guards were still waiting nearby. The nurse's office was next door to the cafeteria—for ease of patients picking up their medications at meal times—in an anteroom that was connected to the rest of the ward by a set of locked double doors. A couple of guards were stationed near those doors at all times, and generally the guards assigned to Bill hung around with them while Bill was in the cafeteria or nurse's office. Bill floated up to them, regarding them with the disinterest of a king ignoring the servants he expected to open doors for him, and continued to ignore them as they escorted him back to his cell, one in front and one behind, while he sipped on his drugged cocktail.

The Dimensional Tyrant Ward was already one of the most heavily-guarded wards in the Theraprism; but to reach the maximum security cells, a patient had to pass several increasingly heavy security checkpoints with increasingly impenetrable security doors. The final door was warded against all magic, unhackable, unbreakable, and so airtight that even without his exoskeleton there was no gap Bill's 2D form could slide through. The doors to each cell—outfitted with tiny one-way mirror portholes, no latches or hinges on the inside—were a little less heavy duty, but packed with just as many failsafes. The Dimensional Tyrant Ward's max security hall had the most advanced security architecture of any psychiatric facility in the multiverse.

Bill had made a trillion year career of trying to break his way through a door nobody wanted him to go through. He could think of seven different ways to get through the doors. Sooner or later he'd find a way out of this place altogether.

A few of the doors had modifications: this one with a metal slab over the porthole to protect passersby from the occupant's petrifying gaze, that one with extra soundproofed padding coating the door. Bill was almost insulted his own door didn't warrant any special modifications.

His favorite door was The Beast's. A comfortingly yellow triangular sign on the door displayed a black symbol of a steak. Red signs above and below read "CAUTION! FEED UNSEASONED MEAT ONLY." "NO SUGAR ALLOWED." The Beast's heavy snuffing was audible through the door; his hot, sickly sweet breath seeped through the slot in the door that had been installed to deliver his food.

Bill's escorts automatically drifted to the far side of the hall to avoid The Beast. Bill, whose first medication was already starting to kick in, zigzagged lazily back and forth across the hall, heedless of how close he came to The Beast's cell.

Bill had never seen this door opened once in all his time incarcerated, and the dust settled on the additional chains and padlocks stretched across the door showed just how long it had been since the last incident. But some of the patients who'd been here longer than Bill still couldn't bring themselves to speak of the last time he'd escaped. Elder eldritch gods shuddered and gibbered nervously at the mention of his name. 

Bill tilted over to try to peer through the food slot at The Beast. A quivering, sickly blue eye stared back at him. Honestly, Bill thought The Beast was adorable.

Outside Bill's door, the guards waited for Bill to finish his medicine, hand over his cup and straw, and open his mouth and lift his eye out of the way so they could check and make sure he'd swallowed them.

And then he was left in his cell.

####

A perfect cube of uniform dull grey tiles supernaturally lit by a uniform dull grey glow, no light source, no shadows; in a max security room in the Maximum Security Wellness Center, patients weren't even trusted around light fixtures. The staff had removed everything Bill had used thus far to commit violence or attempt escape, plus a few more things as punishments for various infractions: journal, paint, pens, books, magazines, puppets (he missed those the most), even the furniture. He'd never earned the privilege of a TV or radio. By now, all he was permitted were black, red, yellow, and blue dry erase markers to draw on his walls—and the red and blue had gone dry; the "Be a TRY-angle!" poster they'd replaced whenever Bill left the room until he gave up and stopped tearing it down; and the clothes on his back. He'd gradually gotten himself banned from every extracurricular and recreational activity the Dimensional Tyrant Ward offered. Whenever he was fresh out of the SWV, when his restrictions were highest, his schedule consisted of mandatory individual therapy, mandatory group therapy, med checks, and the cafeteria.

He spent the vast majority of his time in his cell, sitting curled up alone, day after night after day, barely moving, barely talking, barely eating, waiting for nothing at all.

####

The seamless door swung open and admitted an Orb of Healing Light.

Bill blinked blearily up at the Orb. It was hard to tell how slowly time passed here, but he was sure it couldn't have been more than a couple hours since he'd been returned to his cell: that was when his medications made his mind the foggiest. "Emmyyy. Where ya been? Didn't see you when I came out of the Solitary Dullness Void. Nice of you to, uh..." A second ago he'd had a clever quip about how D-SM5 had clearly dropped by because it missed Bill, but he'd forgotten how to word it.

"Well, I'm here now. I'm flattered you missed me, Mr. Cipher."

Bill blinked heavily. "You turned that around on me," he griped. "Not fair." Ugh, the room was spinning. He flopped on his back.

"A-AOX4 tells me you showed an interest earlier in our outpatient reincarnation program," D-SM5 said. "Since it looks like your schedule is light these days, I thought you might be interested in attending Paingoreous's reincarnation?"

It took him a moment to process the offer. "Really? That's something people can attend?" What was the catch?

"We usually only extend the offer to the departing patient's friends, and—exemplary patients. But... I thought you might benefit from watching the process for yourself. It may encourage you to take a little more interest in your future."

For it to push a possible lead so fast, it really was desperate to find some leverage they could use on Bill. It probably thought of this as a rare opportunity—a patient from Ward 333 wasn't ready for reincarnation every day.

"Wow. I sure am encouraged," Bill said. "You have no idea just how encouraged I am."

####

If an unambitious office building and a utilitarian hospital reluctantly got married out of a vague sense of heteronormative social obligation, had a depressed child, and the fae spirited it away to replace it with an even more depressed changeling child, the child's small intestines would look a lot like the Theraprism's interior hallways: it was windowless, it was labyrinthine, it was beige, and it was grey, and it didn't even care anymore. Monotonous commercial high-traffic carpet alternated with monotonous commercial high-traffic linoleum. The fluorescent lights buzzed just enough to be annoying, but not quite enough that you'd feel justified in snapping and screaming "I've had it!" as you swung a pleather-seated metal chair at the light fixture.

Even though Bill had been languishing in the Theraprism for hours and/or millennia (Bill couldn't tell; he couldn't feel the passage of time), he hardly knew his way around the Dimensional Tyrant Ward, much less the rest of the facility. As D-SM5 led Bill (and six guards) out of Ward 333 and into a lower security zone, he looked for any scant identifiable landmarks and tried to memorize which turns they took by coding the lefts and rights and ups and downs into a mnemonic word. The walk helped wake him from his medication stupor; but his mind never quite felt fully on.

Bill had only briefly glimpsed the Theraprism's reincarnation unit during intake, just one of many rooms he'd been whisked past as he was dragged to Ward 333 screaming and cursing the Axolotl's name. Entering the unit now, it looked like an occult sacrificial altar carved from marble that had been modeled after a 23rd century starship's teleportation platform, contained in a room that looked like a magic planetarium: glowing stars hovered around the dome of the ceiling. Against the back wall in pale pink marble was carved an impossibly long axolotl, swimming in a figure 8 so its vapid smile almost caught the tip of its ribbonlike tail. Bill glowered at it. Backstabber.

He, D-SM5, and the other observers who'd already arrived were in a connected observation room with an enormous, thick window and a sealed door. Next to the window was a large computer console encased in the same marble as the reincarnation altar. That probably controlled the process.

The audience consisted of three aliens who looked a little like Paingoreous might have with his face unpeeled, a few patients and staff Bill recognized, more he didn't, and Jessica with the shining spherical head and the thirteen fingers. Oh boy. If he'd known Jessica would be here he would have tried to polish. Bill straightened his bow tie and smoothed his rumpled orange jumpsuit.

Paingoreous himself was already in the next room, standing on the altar. At the sight of Bill, his exposed facial muscles twitched, as though trying to widen his eyes even though their eyelids were already long gone. "Bill? What are you doing here?"

D-SM5 answered before Bill could blurt out a witty retort. "I invited Mr. Cipher. I thought he would benefit from seeing what he can look forward to once he's improved. I hope you don't mind."

Paingoreous's face immediately smoothed out. "Yes—of course, director, if you say so. I remember how difficult it was in the early days. I'm happy to help my fellow patients in any way I can." Suck up. A dry note entered his voice, "Especially a more troubled patient."

Bill took one of the folding chairs lined up in front of the window and shot back, "I'm about to have one less trouble! Byyye!" (Did Jessica think that was funny? Sometimes she did. He snuck a sideways glance to see if she was laughing. Oh, right—she didn't have a face.)

Paingoreous didn't dignify him with a response. Too good for the likes of Bill, no doubt. Paingoreous wasn't obligated to answer anybody—except the staff, of course.

Bill had never met the real Paingoreous. By the time Bill was committed, the monotony, medication, and mandatory therapy were already well on their way to killing whoever Paing had once been. No way the offensively bland sap leaving now was the same one who'd come in with his face skinned and muscles pinned open.

A technician was already turning on the computer console, running through a whole list of checks as the machine booted up. A hum filled the room as the altar began to softly glow. To all appearances Bill was facing forward, slitted pupil aimed straight at Paingoreous; but his anatomy was built for watching things out of the corner of his eye and his real attention was focused on the reincarnation technician. "So how's reincarnation work in this dump?" Bill asked D-SM5. "I didn't get the orientation."

"Yes you did," D-SM5 said. "I was there."

"Oh yeah? Well, I don't remember seeing you."

D-SM5 sighed. "First, Paingoreous's memories of his current life must be erased, to give him the best fresh start possible and to comply with Earth's soul sanitization regulations."

"Seems like a big waste of time. His head's already empty enough."

One of the Paing-ish aliens a couple seats over shot Bill a dirty look. "That's my son in there."

"Not for much longer, he isn't."

"Be respectful," D-SM5 said warningly.

Bill ignored it. "So once you've scrubbed his brain clean, what then?"

"Then, we reincarnate him. We've already carefully selected his destination and species; except for special circumstances, we generally don't customize the patient's body further, as the program is already set up to divinely design the body most well-suited to the soul about to inhabit it."

"If these bodies are so perfect, why customize them at all?"

"We wouldn't want, say, a recovering pyromaniac to be reborn with pyrokinesis." (Bill felt unfairly targeted.) "Once his species and destination are entered into the program, off he'll go to start his new life as an egg."

"An egg?! Sheesh, wasn't going through childhood once bad enough? I assume his childhood was bad, anyway! Nobody with competent parents ends up like him."

The Paing-ish alien beside Bill bolted out of their seat and lurched aggressively toward Bill. (Ha. Too easy.) The next alien over tugged them back by the arm. Bill was sure he heard a whispered, "Careful, do you know who that..." 

D-SM5 said, "One more crack like that and you're going back to your cell."

"Fiiine. Why can't he skip straight to being a butterfly, though?" What he really wanted to find out was how to skip straight to adulthood.

"For starters, because spontaneous generation has been heavily restricted on Earth since the 15th century, and banned completely outside of special circumstances since the 19th century."

Spontaneous generation. The creation of fully formed life from unliving matter: maggots that emerged from flesh, geese that emerged from barnacles, snakes and crocodiles that wriggled out of the mud of the Nile. He'd always planned to legalize it again when he took over. So if the only reason the Theraprism couldn't do it was because it was banned, then they must have the technology for it, right?

Bill tuned D-SM5 out as it prattled on about the mental health benefits of restarting life and beginner's mind and boring therapeutic psychobabble, and ignored the flashing lights and divine music as Paingoreous's memory, personality, and identity were all wiped clean. He was only interested in what the reincarnation technician was doing. (Although when Bill briefly glanced at Paingoreous, his shape seemed somehow uncertain, as though his molecules had only just walked into the room and promptly forgotten what they'd come in for or who they were supposed to be. Ready to be reshaped into something else.)

The technician opened up the primary reincarnation program, checked a box confirming that the patient's previous incarnation had been erased, and began setting up the specifications for his next incarnation. Choosing the reincarnation world was easy enough: under the drop down menu, the "Goldilocks zone" worlds were sorted first. Earth was sixth on the list. Choosing a dimension was just as easy.

However, choosing the location and time period looked more complicated; rather than searching through a handy list of continents or geological epochs, the technician checked Paingoreous's patient file and typed a couple of long strings of numbers into the blanks for the coordinates and time. They didn't look like any date system or coordinate system Bill was familiar with. How the heck would he work with that?

And selecting the species, to Bill's horror, meant scrolling down a menu ordered by how frequently a species had been selected for reincarnation at this facility. That was insane! The Theraprism always discharged patients as unambitious species where one member was nearly incapable of making a meaningful impact on the local biosphere—anything useful like an octopus or a goat would be buried amongst the literal billions of species that had received zero reincarnations. Couldn't you just start typing the species's name to jump down to—? But no, the Theraprism's keyboard didn't have characters to type human loan words. The technician seemed to be scrolling manually.

That was fine! That was fine. Whatever Bill left as, he wouldn't be it for very long. He wasn't shopping for a makeover; just for an escape pod.

The technician located Vanessa atalanta (147 prior reincarnations) and kept moving, tabbing past a dizzying array of options—sex, size, coloration, visual clarity, caterpillar spine distribution, a whole list of health conditions and mutations the technician skipped—and every box she tabbed past automatically filled in with the word "DEFAULT". How many boxes could be filled in with defaults?

Bill leaned toward D-SM5. "So do you chuck these suckers out anywhere random on the planet or what?"

"Of course not," it said promptly. "What a thought! We take a deep interest in our discharged patients' well-being. We never leave where they spend their next lives at the whim of the computer's randomized decision." 

But they could leave it up to the computer. Still watching sideways as the technician scrolled past an "advanced settings" button without touching it (was that where the spontaneous generation option was hidden?), Bill asked, "Do youalways choose for the patient, or can the patient make requests?"

Dryly, D-SM5 said, "Unless you make some enormous progress, I doubt you'd get clearance to reincarnate anywhere near that town you terrorized, if that's what you're wondering."

"What! Who said I want to visit that crummy valley! All those mountains and trees? Ugh! No, do you know what kind of place I like? The Greater Cairo metropolitan area. Dry! Sandy! Flat!" said Bill, who detested flat landscapes with all his heart. "Covered in pyramids! Sometimes with my face on them! Plus there's the Nile! I love the Nile! I love being in the Nile! I'd spend all my time in the Nile if I could! I've had some loser ex-friends say that living your whole life in the Nile is an unhealthy coping mechanism to avoid addressing problems in your life, but if you ask me they're just jealous of how amazing my life is—"

"Ready for reincarnation," the technician said. "Proceed?"

D-SM5 left its seat, hovering closer to the glass to catch Paingoreous's attention. "Are you ready?"

"Sure," said Paingoreous, who clearly wasn't certain what he was claiming to be ready for.

"Proceed," D-SM5 said. Bill fell silent, paying close attention to how the technician began the reincarnation process.

She clicked a button that said "EXECUTE" (gruesome), clicked through a couple more confirmation screens, and then the faint background hum grew to a rumble and the magical stars glowed brighter. "Ten seconds," she said. "Nine... eight... seven..."

"Hey!" Bill shouted through the glass. "Friendly tip for Earth! Humans love when you fly into their eyeballs! You should do that!"

D-SM5 rounded on Bill, glowing furiously at him. (Maybe it was Bill's imagination, but he thought Jessica looked amused. Worth it.)

The soon-to-be caterpillar formerly known as Paingoreous stared in confusion at Bill. "Okay," he said—and then there was a bright flash of light.

He let out an awful wail of pure soul-rending agony.

When the light faded, he was gone.

The observation room had fallen perfectly silent.

"That's fine," D-SM5 said. "That's—that's normal."

####

Every once in a while, the Theraprism got something right. It was one of the few big government-sponsored "respectable" institutions that didn't make a fuss about how Bill ate. They just let him go to the cafeteria, strip down, unpeel his exoskeleton, and hang out with the photosynthesizers for half an hour or so in the corner under the grow lights. No gasps of horror or screams of outrage—not from the staff anyway; some of the patients took a bit to get used to it when they were new. It was a refreshing change.

On the other hand, even though they were willing to turn a couple lights high enough to melt most mortals' eyeballs when Bill was feeding, he never left feeling truly energized. The grow lights were designed for species with leaves and solar panels; they weren't designed to fuel up a god made of energy. A few bright lightbulbs didn't measure up to raw starlight.

He figured there wasn't any point in complaining. As much as he hated feeling like a gas tank trying to burn a dust mote for fuel, he knew that they knew that long before he even reached 1% of his usual power, he'd be strong enough to vaporize the Theraprism with the snap of a finger.

When he'd had his daily dose of light, he folded shut, redressed, and drifted over to the actual food for dessert. He grabbed a bottle of an allegedly "lemon" nigh-flavorless clear soda—this would do—and hovered toward the exit.

The cafeteria monitor stationed in the door elbowed her way in front of Bill. "Ahem."

"What?"

"You know the rules. No food outside the cafeteria."

"What! This isn't food, it's a soda. Beverages aren't food, everyone knows that." The monitor didn't budge. Bill tried whining. "C'mooon, I got injured in the void today. Look at this!" He gestured demonstratively at his splints. "Look how much pain I'm in!"

The Solitary Wellness Void made this cafeteria monitor uncomfortable. She'd never said so directly, but she tended to turn a blind eye when patients who'd just come out of the SWV were more aggressive than usual or tried to sneak extra desserts. One time when Bill had come out of a week in the SWV, she'd wordlessly slipped him a couple of packets of low-sodium fear sauce, a condiment usually distributed exclusively to the obligate phobophages in the ward. "Besides, it's my birthday! I'm a birthday triangle! You wouldn't deny a birthday triangle a soda, right?"

"Is it really your birthday?"

"Heck if I know. It could be. I don't know it isn't."

She was trying not to smile. "Fine. Just one time. Don't let anyone catch you with it and finish it before you're back in your cell."

"You got it, toots." Bill glided past her.

He slipped from the cafeteria into the nurse's office before his guards could catch sight of his illicit drink. "Hey, bartender! I'm here for my nightcap."

The nurse prepared Bill's evening battery of drugs. He bent his straw into a fun zigzag—honestly it was really more of a sad N shape—slurped down half the eyedrops, and opened his soda to refill his cup.

The nurse looked over at the hiss of the cap opening. "Hey! Hey—"

"It's just soda!" Bill protested. "The cafeteria monitor said it was fine! Besides, what's a little soda gonna do? Nullify all seven of my antipsychotics before I reach my cell?" (Bill had overheard the nurse grumbling to a colleague about the amount of antipsychotics he was on. They thought it was utterly excessive, considering that they'd had no evidence the drugs were doing anything but making him more erratic—which was something, because Bill had seen patients near drooling catatonia from their meds without any of the nurses questioning their current dosage. Conversely, the docs thought Bill's odd biology meant they needed to give him more if they wanted any hope of impacting him.) "Come on. It's not even caffeinated!"

The nurse took the soda bottle to check the ingredient list, then relented. "Fine. I suppose it won't do any harm."

"You're a peach." Bill topped off his cup, poured the rest of the soda over his eye, crushed the bottle, and consumed it too.

"The plastic probably isn't good for you, though."

"I like the way it melts in the back of my throat."

As he drank his medicated soda and got escorted back to his cell, he lazily drifted back and forth in the hall as far as the guards would let him go, dawdling more than usual—he knew they hated it when he dawdled, but they knew he hated spending one second more in his cell than necessary and grudgingly put up with a little lollygagging to keep the peace. But their tolerance ran out in the max security hall as Bill slowed down even further near The Beast's cell. The guard behind Bill pushed him. "Hurry up." 

"Hey!" Bill wobbled off path and stumbled into the wall, spilling some of his drink. "What's your problem!"

"You stopped moving."

"I did not! I'm just taking my time! Enjoying the weather out here."

"Well, take less time."

"Ugh, fine. Didn't realize you had plans I'm keeping you from." Bill rolled his eye and kept moving.

"Hold it!"

Bill froze. He turned around. The guard was pointing at a streak of clear fluid that had spilled from Bill's cup and rolled down the door. His bones frosted over.

"You dropped a pill," the guard said.

Bill's gaze focused on the circular soap-green tablet on the floor. "Are you kidding?! Aren't the other twelve enough?"

"No exceptions, Cipher."

"You don't expect me to eat it off the floor!"

"Do you want to go all the way back to the nurse's office for another?"

Bill groaned in frustration. "Fine!" He snatched it up, wiped it off on the guard's sleeve, and popped it in his mouth. The guard raised a fist; Bill bared his fangs; and after a tense moment, the guard backed down first. The Theraprism had taken nearly every other power from Bill, but it couldn't take his teeth—and though he knew the guards would win any fight, Bill could make it hurt.

They returned him to his room; Bill handed over his cup; they checked to make sure his cup was empty, inspected his mouth, and locked him in.

He hoped they wouldn't notice that half his pills had stuck in the zig-zag bend of the opaque white straw.

He hoped they wouldn't notice The Beast's tongue thrusting through his food slot to lap up the spilled soda that was running down his door and over the bright red "NO SUGAR ALLOWED" sign.

His entire plan hinged on it.

####

Bill was drawing on the wall with his scant art supplies when he felt reality ripple around him, like the wave in a still pool when someone new quietly slides into the water. He looked up from his work. It was happening.

There were several thuds; then a crash; and then the peal of a prison alarm piercing the air. The alarm melted into shrill dolphin-like laughter, and then the frenetic staccato of a hyper speed dance song that threatened to fracture Bill's internal organs. He shuddered as the sound tore at his wound like freezing ice crystals expanding a crack in a boulder.

But he rose into the air and turned to face the door, ready.

Just in time for the door to vanish. The Theraprism melted away like mist in the sunlight—and oh, the sunlight was glorious. The wide open sky pulsed maddening colors so vivid that the faraway rainbows looked monotone in comparison; the land consisted of rolling hills of candy-coated tongues and stomachs and muscles, the paws of enormous buried corpses thrusting up into the sky, the crevasses between burial mounds running with artificially-flavored saliva. It was Bill's kind of place. He wished he had time to hang around.

Before him, orange fur matted with a fine dust of powdery sugar, wild eyes contracted to pinpricks, stood The Beast.

"You did it, you beautiful monster!" Bill shrieked with laughter. "I knew you'd come through!"

The Beast rumbled, "Em deerf evah uoy."

"You're welcome! You can return the favor later! Me, I have somewhere to be." While The Beast was asserting his personal reality on top of the Theraprism's idea of reality, none of the Theraprism's walls or doors existed. Bill wasn't sure exactly how far The Beast's radius of influence extended, except that it was at least far enough to get him out of the maximum security hall—but he had to move now, before the guards rallied to sedate The Beast. Bill slipped a finger into the band of his ankle bracelet and found that under the influence of The Beast's physics, the stiff plastic stretched like a warm rubber band. He tugged it off and tossed it aside. "Seeya, pal!"

But The Beast held up a paw, blocking Bill before he could zip off. "Noob ym tpecca," The Beast said. "Hself ym emusnoc."

"Oooh. Woww." Bill looked at The Beast's candy paw. "Oh, man. Generous offer! You have no idea how tempting it is to take a taste, but I've really gotta get somewhere, and I've gotta be at least sober enough to pull that off..."

"Emusnoc," The Beast insisted. "Hsur ragus eht fo ssendam gnilims citatsce eht ni em nioj. Rehtegot srorroh letsap dna serusaelp kcis hcus wonk lliw ew. Evarg lufituaeb ym ni em htiw tor."

Bill stared again at the paw. The tip of his tongue slipped out beneath his eye to lick hungrily at his waterline. When was the last time he'd been on something that felt good? "Oh, what the heck!" He took The Beast's paw. "I can do this buzzed! How much damage can one little lick do, anyway?"

####

The guard heaved open the maximum security hall's door. The floor was covered in tacky pools of neon candy and removed ankle monitors. "It's just like we feared," the guard shouted into a walkie-talkie, glancing quickly through each cell door's window. "Every single max security patient escaped under The Beast's reality-altering field."

The guard stopped at the sight of neon yellow and orange, peering through the window at the triangle flopped flat on the ground and surrounded by powdery pink sugar.

"Well," the guard said, "all of them except Cipher."

Through the walkie-talkie, D-SM5 tiredly said, "He licked the paw, didn't he."

"Looks like it, boss."

D-SM5 groaned. "All right! Positive thinking! That's the second biggest threat in the ward already accounted for! Silver lining to Mr. Cipher's substance use issues. Assist in securing the others."

####

The good news was that The Beast seemed happy to frolic randomly around the Theraprism rather than head toward the exit, forcing the other escapees to follow along to remain under his reality-altering protection rather than get stranded in small rooms and locked-down halls. The bad news was that his meandering route let him pick up more and more revelers. After an hour, only a third of the max security patients had been re-captured and dragged back to their cells, and twice as many medium security patients had joined the riot. 

A-AOX4 was on hand in the maximum security hall to supervise as the guards brought in super-powered escapees. Most of them came back loopy on either The Beast's toxins or on the sedative that had been injected to keep them calm. A-AOX4 was checking them for awareness of their surroundings—name, where are you, when are you, why are you here—as each one was locked back in their cell.

And each time it passed by Bill's cell, it glanced in, concerned.

Bill had been almost pleasant when he'd come out of the Solitary Wellness Void—maybe after all those sessions in isolation he was finally ready to be more of a team player. And D-SM5 had said that he'd been unusually well-behaved and attentive during the reincarnation. A-AOX4 had hoped their most surly patient was finally opening up. It would be a shame if this incident with The Beast resulted in his new progress backsliding.

Plus, it took a heavy dose of anything to impact Bill at all, much less knock him out cold. He'd already had to go to the nurse earlier today; what if he needed medical attention?

So after locking up the latest subdued prisoner, A-AOX4 said to one of the guards, "Take over monitoring incoming patients. I'm checking on Cipher."

It unlocked the door and hovered into the room. "Cipher?"

No response. He was plastered flat to the floor.

"Bill?" It floated lower to check his condition. 

He was paper.

Paper meticulously colored in with yellow marker and folded into a triangle; scraps of paper colored black, carefully torn into hand and feet shapes, and shoved in the sleeves and pants of his prison uniform.

A-AOX4 lifted up the paper. On the other side was Bill's "Be a TRY-angle!" poster. He'd written across it, "IS THIS TRYING HARD ENOUGH FOR YOU?"

It turned toward the door—and discovered Bill had filled the wall with a drawing of himself making an obscene gesture, with a word bubble that read, "GIVE MY REGARDS TO THE AX! And tell Jessica I said bye xoxo"

It zoomed out into the hallway and grabbed its walkie-talkie. "Director SM5! Cipher's escaped his cell! He left a decoy! He's not with The Beast, we don't know where he is!"

There was a moment of dead air. And then the director growled, "I think I have an idea."

####

Trying to keep his giggles as quiet as possible, Bill looped through the Theraprism's halls, drifting between The Beast's rolling fields of hard candy corpses and the Theraprism's rigid monotone halls. What had he been worried about! Getting hopped up on astralplanar sugar before escaping his cell had been a great idea! It gave him instant shortcuts through half the walls! And he could handle a little buzz like this! He was totally in control of his actions and knew exactly what he—

How long had he been flying the wrong direction? He turned around. Wow was he high, he could barely focus on anything but all the colors. He wondered if The Beast's toxins had any weird interactions with his meds.

He was lucky The Beast had decided to dawdle around the Dimensional Tyrants Ward: here at the far end of the Theraprism, there were no signs of crisis beyond the sealed doors indicating the facility was under lockdown—and once he was outside a high security ward, there were plenty of cracks, gaps, and vents that Bill was thin enough to slide through. He hadn't even seen a guard since he'd left his cell. By the time he reached the reincarnation room, The Beast's landscape was fading out and the sugar crash headache was fading in, but the facility was still on lockdown and no one seemed to be looking for Bill. He slipped beneath the locked door and powered up the console to the reincarnation machine.

He skipped straight to the reincarnation program and checked the box that said, yes, the patient's brain had been washed. He paused when a warning pop-up blocked the screen. The technician hadn't gotten a pop-up. He had to read over the two-sentence warning three times before he understood what he was looking at. The soul sanitization routine hadn't been run recently, was he sure the patient's memory was erased—ugh, yes. He irritably clicked the confirmation and hoped that would be the last of it.

Bill quickly selected Earth and dimension 46'\; he tabbed past the coordinates and date, and they both automatically filled in "DEFAULT." D-SM5 had said the computer would make a "random" decision if you didn't plug in a time and place, but the staff didn't know Earth like Bill did. If he left the time and place up to the whims of fate, then something as weird as a trillion-year-old alien chaos god escaping a criminal insane asylum to spontaneously generate as a fully grown mortal would be sucked straight into the weirdest place and time on Earth. Gravity Falls: August, 2012. Weirdmageddon. He was willing to bet his life on it.

He was betting his life on it.

After that, with any luck, he'd be able to shed his new body like any other puppet and return to his castle in the sky. If for some reason he couldn't get out of it, he'd only need to pull a couple of magic tricks outside a normal mortal's capabilities to catch his past self's attention, find a way to prove his identity—heck, with any luck, they'd be seeing through each other's eyes and that would instantly confirm it—warn his past self about the Pines' treachery, prevent his own death, save Weirdmageddon, restructure the universe in his image, and rule his new party paradise as god-king for all eternity. Easy.

He scrolled down the list of available creatures, looking for something that would be easy to reach the Fearamid and prove his intelligence with—something with vocal cords that could speak eye-bat would be useful, it'd save him a lot of trouble if he could just shout at his sentinels in their own language and startle them into listening—but, to his surprise, the first useful species he found was humans, down amongst the species that had received a single-digit number of reincarnations from the Theraprism. Really, humans? They allowed that?

Over the blaring alarm, a voice made an announcement. He completely tuned it out—and only realized a moment after it ended that he'd heard his own name. They knew he'd escaped.

Bill didn't have time to search for anything better. He selected humanity.

He tabbed past dozens of features he could choose from for his body—default default default default—who cared what the body peed out of, he wasn't keeping the thing long enough to fill its bladder! He clicked open the advanced settings—there, spontaneous generation! He hoped this thing wouldn't drop him on the sidewalk as a baby, but usually when a human suddenly popped into existence, it was an adult sculpted from clay or something, right? He'd be fine! He checked the box for spontaneous generation.

He got another error message. He groaned. He wasn't sober enough for this.

Something about spontaneous generation being banned on Earth after 1859, is he willing to assume the liability if the patient generates after—yeah sure whatever, he clicked yes. Another pop-up prompted him for the digital signature of the person assuming liability. He typed in D-SM5's name.

As soon as he clicked enter, another error message popped up. "What!!"

He flinched at the sound of a muffled pneumatic hiss. Outside, somebody had unlocked the doors to this hallway. The alarm was still blaring; the Theraprism wasn't coming off lockdown. That meant whoever had unlocked the hall was coming for him.

"Focusss." He skimmed the new warning. Something about humans being on a list of species for which spontaneous generation was restricted—what loser had written a law about that! Who cared if a fully-formed, brand-new human popped out of thin air in the middle of town! What about Bill's wants?! He checked another box YES HE'S SURE HE WANTS TO SPONTANEOUSLY GENERATE A HUMAN YOU MONSTER and pounded enter.

Another pop-up. It wanted to know on which god's authority the spontaneous generation had been authorized.

Bill froze. Why did it need to know. Would it check? A machine that could reincarnate a soul was probably also a machine that could shoot off a prayer. Or was Bill supposed to have some kind of divine authorization code? Which gods were even allowed to authorize that kind of thing? He didn't know which stupid legislative body had made this stupid law or what their stupid definition of a god was! Gods weren't even real, they were just stupid, arrogant, stuck-up jerks who were powerful enough to trick people into thinking they were important! Like Bill! What name were they looking for?!

He heard voices in the hallway. He darted over to the door, slid his fingers through the seams around the doorframe to crush the latching mechanism so it couldn't be opened, and darted back. That wouldn't hold them long; he knew from experience that the guards could bust down the doors in these low security wings without much difficulty.

"Bill Cipher!" That was D-SM5. It had come personally? In any other circumstance, he'd be flattered. "Open up immediately!"

"Has that ever worked?" A god, a god, a god... his eye caught on the bas relief at the back of the next room. If there was any god this place would accept orders from... The guards were ramming the door; the bending metal groaned. He typed "THE AXOLOTL" and hit enter.

The button grayed out but the pop-up didn't go away. The screen froze. "What." Bill tried clicking again. The cursor turned into one of those little spinning balls that meant the computer was quietly having a stroke. "No no no no—"

D-SM5 hollered, "You know what the consequences will be if you don't—"

"I'm not listeniiing to yooou!"

"You're only going to hurt yourse—"

Dropping his voice to a demonic boom to drown out the director, Bill recited, "'I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house I was one of the few guests who had actually been invited! People were not—" There was a shriek of tearing metal, and then a bright glow behind Bill as D-SM5 peered through the gap in the door. Bill started talking faster, "'Were not invited they went there they got into automobiles which bore them out to Long Island and somehow—'"

The pop-up disappeared. The cursor returned to normal. The box next to spontaneous generation was checked. Bill stared for a split second, then quickly closed out the advanced settings, scrolled to the bottom of the page, and hit "EXECUTE."

Someone blasted the door out of its frame; based on the blinding glow that accompanied the blast, Bill suspected that wasn't one of the guards, but D-SM5 itself. He frantically clicked through the next two confirmations, flung a couple of folding chairs toward D-SM5 and its thugs, and dove beneath the door to the next room. Ten seconds.

"Cancel the reincarnation!" D-SM5 snapped.

A guard ran to the console. (What if they saw where Bill had gone? They could probably guess the planet, but would the computer keep records of his destination, what his new body looked like—) "I don't see a cancel! I don't think—"

"Then get him off the altar!"

Five seconds. Please spawn as an adult and not a baby, please spawn as an adult and not a baby, please— Bill hadn't broken the door between the observation room and the altar; the guards easily unlocked it. "No no no—!"

"Don't let him esc—!"

Three seconds. An impossibly bright light shone down on Bill. He reflexively peeled open his exoskeleton to accept it. LIGHT—oh, he felt even more alive than the time he'd stolen a bottle of stimulants from the nurse station, ground them up, and snorted them off Mrs. Mirrorcube's back. His eye widened, taking in as much free energy as he could—and then he focused his gaze through the window on the console, focusing the infinite light into a laser powerful enough to instantly melt through the window and explode the computer. The guards fell back, trying to shield their tender mortal flesh from the fury of Bill's fire. Enjoy the blisters.

D-SM5 bellowed, "Bill Cipher, you mo—!"

"CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, SUCKA!" He could feel his body ripping apart, cracking open at the wound. It hurt, but not the hurt of dying; it was the euphoric hurt of spaghettification, of being infinitely sucked beyond a beautiful event horizon. Bill's triumphant cackle filled the air—

—and then the room was silent and dark, and Bill was gone.

####

(If you're new here: I posted this as a one shot because I think we could all use a little Bill escaping from Theraprism, yeah? However it's ALSO part of my ongoing Bill-stuck-in-a-human-body fic I'm currently editing for TBOB compatibility. So, if you enjoyed this and want to see where post-reincarnation Bill goes, check out the fic!! And if you DON'T want to read the rest of the fic, I hope you enjoyed the one shot and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

If you do check out the main fic be forewarned it's only 100% TBOB compatible up to chapter 6. After that it is, bizarrely, 98% TBOB compatible, because somehow I accidentally wrote a fic that lines up with the book so well that I'm legit worried people could use TBOB to work out fic spoilers. But I still need to edit the remaining 2%.

If you're NOT new here: hey gang this is the new chapter 6!!! I finished editing this chapter about fifteen minutes before post time so it's not as polished as my usual chapters, but I hope it didn't read that way. Anyway, I look forward to hearing what y'all think!)

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson [2K]

18+ TW: somnophilia

It was his lips on your bare shoulder that woke you.

An open mouthed kiss and the tickle of his curls on your skin as you shifted, the sheets crumpled under your naked frame as you lay on your stomach. You woke up a little more, blinking into the navy darkness, sleep making your eyes blurry.

The bedroom was a mess, kicked pillows and shoved aside blankets creating grey lumps in the dark, the barely there glow of the street lights that shone through the blinds telling you it was definitely not near morning. Everything still smelled like sex and cologne, a heady mix with your perfume underneath it all and you weren’t sure where your clothes were for the life of you.

It was cosy nonetheless, window just cracked to let some of the summer air inside, a faint breeze that only really added to the warmth. A bubble of still air and bare skin, very touch heightened from how sensitive you’d already been made to feel that night.

You made a soft sound into your pillow, fingers curling into the sheets as someone - Eddie - knelt between your spread legs. He was running a hand across your ass, pushing and squeezing at the plush skin, humming happily when he realised you were stirring. His cock was hard, already nudging at your entrance and you knew from the way you throbbed that he’d been touching you for a while.

“Eddie,” you whined in a pretty, raspy voice that made his cock jump. You were still hoarse from earlier, when you’d cried into your pillow, biting down on the feathers as you were pounded from behind. “S’good.”

The boy leaned in again, soothing you with kisses up and down your spine, his cock sliding in easily as he nudged forward. You whined as he filled you up, your cunt still slick and warm from before. You felt boneless, body laid bare for him to play with but he just growled as you clenched around him, happy to feel your heat.

“Always good for me, sweetheart,” he praised and his voice was as broken as yours. He sounded dirty, grunting every time you pulsed around his cock, his palms grabbing handfuls of your ass to keep you from wriggling away. “Jus’ stay like that, yeah?” He whispered. “Gonna make you feel real nice, baby.”

You nodded, pouting even though he couldn’t see. But you almost cried out into the dark room when you felt the Eddie spread your ass cheeks, a thin line of spit hitting your hole. You could practically sense his grin when you jumped a little at the feel of his thumb, not doing much else but putting pressure on you, getting you wet enough to want more.

You squealed, the noise muffled by your pillow and Eddie snickered, leaning down with his hands on either side of your head. It pushed him deeper into your pussy, your legs spreading on instinct to give him more room. His hips were flush against the swell of your ass when Eddie ducked his head down, nose at your cheek and his voice was downright sinful when he whispered.

“You gonna wake him up, hmm?” A kiss, just below your ear. “You know he loves it when you put on a show for him. Go on, be a good girl, yeah?”

So you reached out, breath already hitching as your hand travelled across the bed, seeking out the warmth beneath the sheets. You found an arm, strong and curled partially under a pillow, a broad back with lean muscles, tanned skin freckled and bed warm. You tugged on the hand that had been used to keep you pinned to the bed early as the owner ate you out, whimpering softly as Eddie started his slow, lazy thrusts again.

“Steve,” you murmured.

Nothing.

“Gotta be a bit louder, sweetheart,” Eddie coaxed. “You know he sleeps like the dead.” He gave your ass a swift tap, grinning at the squeak you made. “Especially when you sucked his cock like you did.”

The reminder made your eyes roll, your lips still puffy and swollen from both of the boy’s kisses and the way you insisted on letting Steve’s cock nudge at the back of your throat for almost too long. So you reached out again, pulling at Steve’s fingers until you could bring them to your lips, already half gone on Eddie’s cock as you let your tongue peel out to touch the tips of them, Steve stirring as you whined his name again.

He appeared from the sheets, legs tangled with them and hair mussed, a pillow crease along on freckled cheek and he blinked at you in the dim light. Steve could just make out Eddie kneeling behind you, leaning back on his ankles as he spread your legs with his hands, keeping your stomach pressed to the bed as he let the head of his cock push in and out of your folds. His eyes found yours, bright and glassy in the glow of the light from the window and realisation hit him at the same time his cock twitched.

“Shit,” he groaned, sleep making his voice thick and rough. He sounded good, so sweet, his movements slow as he shuffled towards you, the smell of his shampoo and aftershave surrounding your sense as he leaned in. “Shit, baby, you guys goin’ again, huh?”

“Couldn’t resist her,” Eddie grunted, the slick sounds of your pussy hugging his cock filling the spaces between his words. “You know what she’s like when she’s sleepin’.”

Steve smiled, sleep warm and still soft, brushing the bridge of his nose against yours as he took his hand from your lips to your jaw. His forehead rested against your own and your eyes fluttered shut, completely surrendering to both men.

“Yeah?” He sounded more awake now but he whispered still, his thumb smoothing underneath your ear. He was so warm, too easy to squirm closer to and Eddie tutted as you tried to wriggle away. “All spread out for him, honey? Putting yourself on show for Eddie, huh?”

You probably had been, unconsciously or not. Still naked and slick from how they’d left you, bites and bruises on your bare skin, bone tired and one leg hitched up to show off every part of you. Playing with each other until you woke was something that had been long discussed, a secret fantasy of yours that you’d finally indulged after three years of being together and two bottles of wine.

“Ass like a fuckin’ peach,” Eddie agreed, his voice breathier now that he was sinking his cock deeper into you. He gave your behind a soft snack, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as the fat jiggled, your cunt clenching around him. “She wants to give you a show, Steve.”

Steve grinned, nudging at your chin until you resurfaced from his neck and he could give you a kiss. He kept it soft and light - too light. Tiny little pecks that had you screwing up your features in protest, one hand fisting at his hair. “Yeah, honey? S’that right?”

You nodded, still gasping against his lips as Eddie rolled his hips into yours. You could feel him nudging deep inside of you, his cock hitting that spot over and over again, a dirty grind more than anything else. You really wanted Steve to kiss you.

“You’re so sweet,” Steve cooed and he was still being so soft, so quiet, his hands tracing down between your breasts, fingers trailing over the dip in your spine. “You wanted me to see how pretty you look when you take Eddie’s cock?”

His words did just as much to Eddie as they did you, Eddie growling under his breath as he raised your hips up, letting the front of your thighs rest on top of his, your cheek pressed flat to the mattress now. He kept up the tiny thrusts of his hips, his cock fully seated inside of you. But now, there was space underneath of your frame, a gap between you and the bed that allowed Steve to snake his hand into.

His fingers found your clit, your folds soaked. You watched his lips make a small ‘o’, surprise and delight in his gaze. “Shit, honey, you’re all worked up.”

You couldn’t say much, just small, gasping “uh, uh, uh’s” falling from your mouth as Eddie fucked you through it. He leaned over your to smooth a hand up your spine, pressing his palm between your shoulder blades as his pace picked up just slightly. Steve matched it, pinching at your clit between rubbing small circles and he finally, finally leaned in to kiss you.

It was slow and lazy like the night had been, like your boy’s were treating you. A languid thing that made your yous curl and your breath hitch, his tongue licking over yours in a filthy, filthy way. He bit at your lip when he pulled away, rubbing your clit a little harder when he saw your eyes screw shut.

“She’s gonna come,” he told Eddie, his own cock pressed hard into your hip. “Oh, oh baby, you’re gonna come real hard, aren’t you?”

You nodded, pulling him closer by the nape of the neck as Eddie leaned back down to blanket himself over you, his hips pressed to your ass as he groaned at the feel of you getting even tighter, his cock twitching in anticipation.

“Please,” you whispered, the plea slurred and muffled as you pressed your face to Steve’s cheek, the need for closeness overwhelming.

“I know,” Steve cooed. “We’ve got you, Eddie’s gonna make you come real fuckin’ good, honey.”

Eddie’s hand curled around the back of your neck then, gentle but firm as he brought you out of hiding, his thumb soothing down the front of your throat. He made you look at Steve as he fucked you, your lips parted, your eyes glassy.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuck,” Eddie grunted, “lookit Steve, yeah?”

Steve nodded, his free hand that wasn’t teasing your clit joining Eddie’s, wrapping around your throat until his fingers overlapped the other man’s. “Let me see you come, show me what you woke me up for.”

[oreo-creampie]

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮/ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: they are all soft for you, cock drunk!tired!reader, pussy drunk!trio, establish relationship, praise, praising degradation, oral, sucking on your nipples, kissing, fingering your asshole, triple penetration, toji eats the cum out of you, toji spits water into reader's mouth, squirting on toji's face, hinting at previously squirting on satoru's face, faint pain kink, overstimulation, mind break, light dacryphilia, gagging/choking

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: anything with the roommate trio au 🤤

You don’t care to move, not when one of them can do it for you. Relaxing with the warm, heavy satisfying afterglow of cumming more times than you can count.

Suguru stuffs the mixture of his, Toji’s and Satoru’s thick, white warm cum into your sensitive, spasming dripping cunt. Clenching his fingers, the soft tongue of Suguru’s thick fingers rubbing your sweet spot easing you down from the intense stimulation.

He kisses your swollen clit. The pleasure bordering on painful. Suguru crooning, “Good girl, you did so well taking all our cum in your beautiful super soaker. I don’t want to stop just yet. Your so beautiful, and your cunt is so wet, and loud just begging for more.” Whining the sore ache of your beat up cunt adding to the sweetness of Suguru slowly fingering his, Toji’s and Satoru’s cum into you.

“Then don’t. But I’ll need something to drink soon.” Toji grabs the half-empty cup of water taking a sip. Then grabbing your hair pulling your head up, opening your mouth for him to press his lips to yours. Letting the cool liquid trickle past.

He pulls away, "You gonna be a good girl n’ take what we give you. Lay there lookin’ beautiful, I don’t care how tired you are. You can take it." Satoru sucks on your sore nipple, gently rubbing it with his tongue.

Another sip, and Toji let’s more trickle into your mouth. Swallowing the mouthful before Toji kisses you roughly. Biting your lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

Satoru groans before pulling away to croon, “She’s too tired to even move yet she wants more.” He trails kisses over your breasts, drifting up your collarbone.

Toji pulls away whilst Satoru croons, “Our princess is glowing from the sweat, cum, and from squirting so hard she soaked the bed, and my face. You look like you might fall asleep soon. Yet all your thinking of is getting fucked, good girl.” Toji tilts your head, exposing your neck for Satoru to trail up. Closing your eyes, trembling, your mouth dropping open with a sweet whine.

Suguru groans, “You’re so beautiful, so wet n’ warm my love.” Slipping slips his fingers out. Toji dips his head between, licking up the mess of cum seeping from your sensitive cunt.

Toji pumps his tongue in slowly, cleaning up the mess. Stopping only to insist, “You always squirt so much sweetheart. You can give us one more, can you? Be a good girl and make a mess on my face.” Gliding his tongue past your soft lips, roughly grabbing your hips.

Satoru dips back down to your tits. Sucking on your nipple with a groan. Sinking in his teeth slowly till you whine, feebly squirming. He laces his fingers through yours before pulling away with a soft pop. Kissing the three-band engagement ring that compliments the different rings Suguru, Satoru, and Toji wear.

Satoru whines, “I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. Iori and Shoko won't tell me a single detail about it. Please just give me a clue, so I can dream about you in a wedding dress more accurately.” He tugs on your nipples, fixated on playing with them.

Smiling, working up the energy to taunt Satoru with, “Where is the fun in that? You’ll nnn ngg! Toji!” He pumps his tongue faster, stroking your clit with a rough thumb. Whilst swirling your asshole with two fingers, gliding them past. Both your holes clench.

Suguru urges Satoru, “It will be worth the wait, and we will have a collection of pictures up for you too admire our princess to your heart’s content.” Feebling jerking your hips back, Suguru grabs your thigh and pins it to your side. Satoru follows suit. Pinning you in a mating press for Toji to keep eating you out.

Whining, “Sug! Kisses!” Unable to keep your eyes open, puckering your lips. Making faint kisses sounds. Satoru steals the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Tasting yourself on his tongue, whining into his mouth. Craving more.

Suguru indignantly claims, “Thief!” Suguru grabs Satoru’s hair, pulling causing him to groan and pull away. “Those are my kisses. Stop moaning like a whore.” Suguru dips on for a kiss whilst Satoru pulls away, firing back.

“Don’t pull my hair if you don’t want me to sound like a slut. ‘Side our princess gets off on the way I sound, don’t you. Isn’t that why you ask for videos of me jerking off?” Parting your lips for Suguru to slip his pierced tongue past.

Groaning into his mouth, your sensitive soaking wet cunt quivering around Toji's tongue. Your slick dripping down to your asshole which Toji stuffs in with each quick pump of both his thick, rough fingers.

He adds a third, the stretch more comfortable than before after taking his fat, heavy cock moments ago. How could you be this thoroughly fucked out but crave more?

Suguru breaks the kiss, looking at Satoru. “She asks all of us? It's a group chat.” Satoru doesn’t care, dipping his head to kiss you roughly. Whilst your cunt spams around Toji’s tongue, gushing on his face.

Toji groans, not pulling away till the last of your pussy juices squirt into his mouth. Pumping his fingers into your asshole quicker, riding you through your intense high.

Toji glides his fingers out of your ass, pulling away. “That’s it, good girl. Squirting twice for us, letting us fuck you to sleep. I guess that’s when we will stop, when you say the safe word or you can’t stay awake anymore.” He grabs the disinfectant wipes, cleaning off the fingers before grabbing his cock lines himself up.

Suguru asks him, "Which hole are you fucking, let me get the other one." Satoru lets your thigh go, stroking your nipple with his soft thumb. Pinching and pulling, you could feel it in your clit.

"Let me get underneath her." Suguru moves away, letting your thigh go, as Satoru grabs your hip moving your body for Toji to take up the middle of the large bed. Satoru breaks the kiss.

Toji grabs you, helping you settle on top of him. Mustering the energy to grab his heavy, veiny cock, holding him up. "So you have enough energy to be a cock hungry slut? Nothing else?" Melting when Toji sinks you down on his cock. Your asshole pleasurably stretching for Toji's cock.

Satoru grabs your neck, guiding his cock close to your face. Jerking off to your expressions as you get your ass fucked by Toji's thick cock. His firm grasp on your hip keeps you from running away from his thrusts.

"I wanna keep cumming, love having my cunt played with. It feels so good! I'm so sensitive, don't wanna stop! I can take it, please don't stop!" Your jaw drops with a loud moan that Satoru cuts off by shoving his cock into your mouth.

Toji slows his thrusts, you can feel his veins and the texture of his skin better with each lazy thrust. Suguru lines himself up, swiping his cock along your plush lip. Slapping your clit twice, quickly gliding himself past your lips.

Toji and Suguru's thick cocks stretch your sensitive asshole and soaking wet cunt to the point of a thin strip of skin between feels nonexistent. You can't think, you can only feel all their cocks pumping into every one of your holes.

Clenching both cocks as they pick up their pace in tandem. Satoru moans, "Nnn love making you choke on this cock till you cry. Come on princess let me see your pretty tears." He doesn't let up, taking quick deep shallow pumps. Keeping his cock buried deep in your mouth, gagging you till he sees you crying.

"That it, fucking take it like a good slut. Nnng." He pulls his cock out for a moment, then stuffs himself balls deep. "You should see her face, looks like we broke our beautiful mama. There is not a thought going through her head. The pure pleasure on her face our princess is in heaven getting filled up and fucked stupid."

strawberry brat all works

[soulofapatrick]

Sleep, I've Got You - Liam Mairi x Female Reader

Summary: you haven't slept in two weeks and two people are pushing you to seek Liam's help

Warnings: none

Words: 2.3k

Y/N's POV

The training room is filled with quiet conversation, but I linger in the doorway, unnoticed. Violet is stretched out on the floor with a book in hand, Bodhi and Garrick are watching Ridoc and Sawyer debating something trivial. Liam is just listening along, breathing air through his nose  when either of the goofs say something even more ridiculous than the other but he’s fiddling with a dagger in his hand. Xaden is in the corner, brooding as usual, his dark eyes occasionally flicking up to meet mine before drifting away. 

“Go to him.” Draighanmúr’s, or Draighan as I call him, voice rumbles in the back of my mind, firm and gentle. His presence is soothing, as always, but his suggestion catches me off guard, feeling his silent urge for me to move from where I’m still hovering in the doorway. He doesn’t say who the ‘him’ is but I know exactly who he is on about. 

I shouldn’t be here. My body is heavy with exhaustion, my thoughts fogged by the lack of sleep that’s haunted me for days. I know I should turn around and head back to the dorms, crawl into bed and pull the duvet over my head and try to get a single wink of sleep. Something, or someone, keeps me rooted in place, Xaden’s eyes flicking over to mine again once more before he goes back to brooding. 

The shadows around me seem to come to life, curling around my ankles like tendrils, their touch cold and almost tangible. There’s a light pressure at the back of my legs, an insistent nudge that makes me take a wobbly step forwards. My breath catching in my throat as I realise what’s happening—these aren’t just ordinary shadows. They’re Xaden’s. 

I glare at my wingleader instinctively, annoyance flickering in my chest. He’s the only one who could be doing this, the one manipulating the shadows to push me out of the safety of the darkness where I’ve been hiding. His eyes meet mine briefly, and there’s a knowing look in them, an acknowledgment of what he’s doing. He doesn’t say anything, though, just tilts his head slightly as if to say, You know this is for your own good.

Draighan chuffs in the back of my mind as if agreeing with Xaden’s silent comment, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and agreement as he tells me You need rest, and you know who can give it to you. His presence is warm, comforting, but it doesn’t take away the frustration bubbling inside me. Xaden and Draighan unknowingly conspiring against me. 

With a resigned sigh, I continue to shuffle forwards, my movements somewhat sluggish and uncertain—things you don’t want for a dragon rider. Every step feels heavier than the last, and I hesitate again, my body instinctively trying to resit the pull. But I can feel Xaden’s eyes boring holes into the side of my head, a silent pressure that refuses to elm me retreat. It’s as if his gaze alone is propelling my forwards, leaving me no choice but to keep moving until I find myself standing next to the group of boys. 

Ridoc glances up at me, a mischievous grin on his face which would have me worried if it were anyone else but Ridoc as he asks, “You joining us?” His tone is light, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes, like he’s surprised I’ve wandered over to them and not Violet. 

I just nod, the motion feeling more like a reflex than a conscious decision. Without saying a word, I sink down the wall, near Sawyer and a few steps away from Liam, close enough to feel the warmth of Liam’s presence but far enough that I don’t feel complexly exposed. 

The golden evening light streams into the training room, casting a warm, ethereal glow over everything it touches. Liam sits bathed in that light, his soft light-blond hair catching the glow, making him look almost ethereal. His tall, muscular frame, as built as Dain, is relaxed as he fiddles with a dagger, the blade catching the light as it twirls effortlessly between his fingers. His blue eyes are focused on the conversation, a soft, thoughtful expression on his face as he listens to the banter around him. There’s a rugged handsomeness to him, emphasised by the prominent nose and the sprawling rebellion relic that begins at his wrist and disappears under the sleeve of his tunic. When he smiles, a dimple appears, adding a touch of warmth to his otherwise stoic demeanour.

My heart tightens in my chest as I watch him. He looks like he belongs in this light, like the strength and calmness of it are just extensions of who he is. There’s a quiet confidence about him that draws me in, and I can’t help but feel my crush on him swell, massive and overwhelming. I’m head over heels for him, and it’s a feeling that terrifies me as much as it thrills me. 

Draighan’s presence in my mind is a steady, reassuring hum, bolstering my resolve. I scoot closer to Liam, my movements slow and deliberate as I inch toward him. My heart races as I reach out, nudging his right arm from his lap. He looks down at me, a hint of surprise in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything as I lay my head down where his arm once rested.

I tense, my whole body stiffening in anticipation of some kind of backlash or teasing comment. I’m ready for Ridoc’s sharp wit, for Sawyer’s playful jabs, or even for Liam to shift uncomfortably and pull away. But none of that happens. Instead, there’s a beat of silence, and then I feel Liam’s hand find its way into my hair. His fingers are gentle, tentative at first, before they start to move in slow, soothing strokes.

Liam's fingers begin to move through my hair, the touch light and careful, as though he’s afraid of hurting me. He smooths out the knots with practiced ease, each motion gentle yet firm. The tension I’ve been holding in my scalp and neck gradually starts to dissolve under his deft touch, the soothing strokes lulling me into a state of relaxation I haven’t felt in days.

As his hand continues to comb through my hair, he leans forward slightly, tilting my head to the side so that our eyes meet. His blue eyes, usually so sharp and alert, soften as they take in the exhaustion written across my face. There’s a quiet understanding in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of how tired I am, how much I need this moment of comfort.

“You’re exhausted,” he murmurs softly, his voice low and tender. “Sleep.”

The warmth in his tone wraps around me like a blanket, and for a moment, everything else fades away—the noise of the room, the worries in my mind. It’s just him, his voice, and the steady rhythm of his fingers in my hair. He lets go of my face, leaning back against the wall as he continues his soothing ministrations. Before he settles, though, his fingers briefly brush against my cheek, a tender gesture that sends a warmth spreading through my chest. Then, his hand returns to my hair, the steady, rhythmic strokes coaxing me closer to the edge of sleep.

As I begin to drift, I catch Ridoc’s eyes from across the room. He’s been watching quietly, his playful demeanour momentarily subdued. He mouths a single word at me, a question: Nightmares?

I nod once, softly, the motion barely perceptible. It’s all I can manage in my state of exhaustion, but it’s enough. Ridoc’s gaze softens in understanding before he turns back to his banter with Sawyer, Bodhi, and Garrick, picking up the conversation where he left off.

The world around me fades into the background as Liam’s fingers continue to move through my hair, the gentle rhythm pulling me closer to sleep. Draighan’s presence hums softly in the back of my mind, a comforting reminder that I’m safe, that I can finally let go. My breathing slows, and before long, I succumb to the exhaustion, my body sinking into the warmth and comfort of Liam’s lap.

————

I slowly drift back into consciousness, the heaviness of sleep gradually lifting as awareness returns. The first thing I notice is the softness beneath my head—a pillow, not the comforting firmness of Liam’s lap where I last remember resting. I shift slightly, feeling the warmth of a blanket draped over me, its weight soothing against the cool air of the room. There’s another weight too, heavier and more solid, resting across my waist. It takes me a moment to realize it’s an arm, strong and steady, holding me close.

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the dim light in the room. The training room is gone, replaced by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through a small window. The familiar scent of leather and something distinctly Liam fills my senses, grounding me as I take in my surroundings. I’m not in the dorms, not in my own bed. My heart skips a beat as the realisation sinks in—I’m in Liam’s bed.

I take a slow, deep breath, feeling the rise and fall of the warm body behind me. His presence is solid, comforting, and undeniably familiar. The heat of his body seeps into my back, and for a moment, I just lie there, processing the unexpected but welcome reality of where I am.

Carefully, I roll over, shifting beneath the weight of his arm until I’m facing him. The room is quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustle of the blanket and the steady rhythm of Liam’s breathing. My eyes trace his features, relaxed and peaceful in sleep. His spiky blond hair is tousled, a few strands falling across his forehead. His sharp, blue eyes are hidden behind closed lids, their intensity softened by the calmness of slumber. His prominent nose and the faint shadow of stubble on his jawline give him a rugged look, but there’s a gentleness to him now, a vulnerability that makes my heart ache.

As I lie there, taking in every detail of Liam's serene face, I feel an overwhelming tenderness swell in my chest. His usually intense blue eyes are softened by sleep, his features relaxed in a way I rarely get to see. I can’t help myself—I lean in and press a gentle kiss to his jawline, just where the faint shadow of stubble begins. His skin is warm and slightly rough beneath my lips, the contact filling me with a quiet sense of intimacy.

The soft press of my lips causes him to stir, his brow furrowing slightly before his eyes slowly flutter open. For a moment, he looks disoriented, but then his gaze finds mine, and a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

"How'd you sleep?" he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

I begin to answer, my voice still soft and laced with the remnants of sleep, "Better than I have in days—" But before I can finish, I notice his eyes flick down to my lips, lingering there for just a heartbeat before he moves.

In a fluid motion, Liam closes the small distance between us, capturing my lips in a kiss that feels like the culmination of something we’ve both been wanting for far too long. His lips are warm and firm against mine, moving with a gentle urgency that takes my breath away. His hand, still resting on my waist, tightens slightly, pulling me closer as if he needs to make sure I’m real, that this moment is real.

The kiss is slow and tender, but there’s a depth to it that speaks of unspoken emotions, of the comfort we find in each other. His thumb brushes over my cheek as he deepens the kiss, his touch both loving and reverent. I lose myself in the sensation, in the way his lips mold perfectly to mine, in the way his warmth seeps into every corner of my being. It feels like coming home, like finding a piece of myself I didn’t know was missing.

When we finally part, it’s with a shared breath, both of us a little dazed but undeniably content. His forehead rests gently against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us.

"Maybe we should get a little more sleep," he whispers, his voice a soft murmur that makes my heart flutter. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, one that I can’t help but return.

"Yeah," I agree, my own voice barely more than a sigh as I shift closer, tucking myself against his bare chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear is a comforting rhythm, lulling me back toward sleep. His arm wraps securely around me, holding me close as his other hand continues its soothing motions, tracing gentle patterns along my back.

As I drift off, the warmth of his body enveloping me and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my head, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace. With Liam holding me close, sleep comes easily, and I let myself surrender to it, knowing that for now, everything is exactly as it should be.

Fourth Wing Masterlist - To be made Comment to be added to tag list

[plumipal]

AAAAAOMG UR TWST OC IS SO ADORABLE?? i'm absolutely in love with eden sm (+ his design?? the star eyes and the wings are my favorite,, i wanna smooch all his tattoos!) and i hope it's okay to ask a few questions about him... (I KNOW U SAID IT WAS OKAY BUT I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE 😭 i'm genuinely interested in knowing more!)

1) does he have anyone in the twst cast that he tolerates/likes? i know he's part of the whole harem thing but is there anyone he doesn't necessarily mind being around (or even sharing with the prefect?)

2) do grim and eden have a good relationship? i would assume so since they're living both with one another but do they just get along with each other for the prefect's sake or are they actually best buds? (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

(little dumb idea but i think it would be so cute if the prefect treated the two as if they were all like a little family! eden and prefect being the two parents and grim their rambunctious kid lmao,, i would imagine the others not being so happy about it (っ‘ω`c))

3) is he okay with physical affection/pda? is he totally chill about it or would he rather shy about the whole thing? is he open to having the prefect touch his wings or his tattoos?

4) oooo any funfacts that you have about the new ramshackle resident?? just in general really if that's okay with u ofc!! ☆

aa okay that's it!! i hope my questions weren't annoying or anything! (っ‘ω`c)

Had to get one of those wheels ive seen going around where you put the oc and how they feel about the character and how the characters feel back about them, but with a twist lol (most of them are haters).

The ones he are most tolerant with are grim, ace, deuce, jack and kalim. Only one he could possible share with would either be kalim, jack or deuce, because of how he sorta is annoyed by ace.

Of course cant forget how he feels about you :) he thinks you are very very very special and he loves you a lot <3

He likes grim a lot, seeing as grim isn't one of the students that is oh so annoying. He warms up to the monster, seeing how gently you take care of grim, wanting to do the same. It feels, domestic, in his opinion.

Grim likes Eden a lot too, he has never belittled him, he has always made sure to feed grim along with Eden being very warm (and therefore very nice to sleep on). In grims opinion, he thinks you should go with Eden, cuz he is a good candidate for marriage (grim has been bribed with love, affection, and tuna).

He takes good care of the cat son, making sure he is healthy and happy.

Now onto pda. Eden are only okay with you touching the wings, the tattoo and the core, being as they are quite sensitive. The scar is still off limits, but maybe if you make him warm up to you even more you might be able to-

He loves when you help him with his wings, it's one of the best feelings out there. Fo mind that only you (and grim) can touch the wings, anyone else is off limits, ESPECIALLY ROOK HE IS FORBIDDEN TO TOUCH THEM.

Eden facts!! He has lil "ear-holes" like birds, just behind the feathers. Be careful around that part when you help him with his feathers, otherwise you might have a pouty and angry Eden on tour hands.

His eyes also glow in the dark! It's the scariest during the nightly snack runs down to the kitchen, seeing him suddenly stare at you, but you slowly get used to it!

You don't know where the extra eyes sometimes come from tho...

Also some general facts about Eden!

Dorm: Ramshackle

Birthday: 1/1

Age: ???

Height: 185cm

Fav subject: alchemy

Hobby: cleaning in ramshackle, birdwatching

Likes: you

Dislikes: Loud noises, blond 3rd year hunters named rook hunt, people trying to grab onto his wings that aren't you

Fav food: he don't need to eat to gain sustenance, bur he likes mashed potatoes with gravy

Least fav food: soup, any soup, he hates it

Btw if anyone were to write for Eden I would explode it would mean the world to me

[theblueflower05]

Mi Ti’ong(In Bloom)

A/N: Usually I try to keep my readers pretty ambiguous so that everyone can envision themselves, but this ones gonna be a little more distinct. If that isnt your jam, please dont read! No use of Y/N. Reader nicknamed Flora. Based on the character from Winx Club! And this art!

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: Size difference kink.Mature Language. Smut. Overstimulation. Oral sex(female receiving) Neteyams a munch, it’s canon now.

Summary: Neteyam can have anyone and yet he only wants you. A small human who can usually be found among the flowers. Neteyam x Human! Reader

Sugar, honey, iced tea. Bumble bee on the scene.

Yeah I’d give up my bakery to have a piece of your pie, ugh!

-See You Again, Tyler the Creator.

The forest is alive, the beating heart of Eywa felt in each and every leaf among the trees.

Every glowing piece of flora and fauna, every creature whose calls echo through the vastness.

This time of year is special and it's as though it is known. Deeply and primitively by all. The rains had come and gone, nearly a month of bruised skies that had bogged down the village and its daily life.

But as they always do the skies cleared, and the sun made its reappearance. Glittering and glimmering- triple rainbows breaking out in kaleidoscope like figurations. Beaming down with all of it’s warmth and vitality.

The earth is well fed and fertile, the soil rich and blooming with new life.

It’s that new life that brings the talioang(water buffalo like beasts) back. The creatures return in great migrations to the lush pastures of sweet new grasses to have their babies. The fish swim upstream, battling the roaring rivers, to spawn. The fruit hangs heavy and ripe in the trees. All around there is nothing but full bellies and joy.

This period of abundance is the Great Mother’s gift to her children.

It had always been Neteyam’s favorite time of the year.

Everything lush and bursting with life, the excitement a low constant hum amongst the tribe. The Great Hunt is coming and his father had given him the okay to take lead.

In his nineteen years, he had never been appointed with so much responsibility.

Jake tells him it will all be fine, nothing but easy smiles. This will be good. A fantastic way to show the clan that he’s ready to take on the title of Olo’eyktan once his father steps down. Although he manages to keep is calm and cool demeanor in public, he’s so fucking nervous he can barley function.

It’s why he’s here, trudging through the branches.

The village is buzzing with excitement. Everyone wants a moment of his time, their voices overlap as they wish him good luck.

Question his competence as head of the hunt.

Subliminally hint that hunters twice his age have never gotten the chance to do what has been so freely handed to him.

Remind him that their daughters are pretty. Unmated. Makes the best steamed Teylu. Are fertile and willing to give him strong children-

Fuck.

The moment he could, he’d slipped away. Disappeared into the foliage and had booked it deep into the trees, desperate for a moment alone. For a moment of silence and the peace of being away from prying eyes.

He doesn't even really know where he’s going.

Only that he just needs to be away. If only for an hour. He needs to recharge his ever draining social battery, to get his head on straight before tomorrow's hunt.

Neteyam has always performed his best under pressure.

Things that made others balk and cower ignited something in him. A need to fight. To prove himself- it’s not the prospect of high adrenaline and stampeeding hooves that makes him squirm. It’s all of the attention its garnering.

He know’s fully well that being the next Olo’eyktan means that attention comes with the territory. But that doesnt mean the thought of everyones focus on him doesnt make his indigo skin crawl.

He’s leaping aimlessly between vines when he remembers his sisters earlier proposition.

“Come with me and Flora to the watering hole today! The waterfalls are so pretty during this season- We’re going to go swimming!”

It’d been tempting this morning, and now it is even more so. He could use a dip in the cool waters and Kiri was always an ear to vent to when he got overwhelmed. He’d clear head and then leave-

He wouldn't get stuck staring at you.

Again,

No.

He can't pinpoint exactly when this happened.

It was like one night you were just another human at the Outpost. Another familiar alien face he’d grown up around. Just like Spider you’d stuck close with the Sully children. Your cheeks always flushed beneath your exo-mask and your fingernails always dirty and caked with mud from the hours and hours you’d spend tending to any and all plants that came in your line of vision. You were always so soft. Too soft for his liking sometimes. You’d cry at just about anything whether it be one of those old Tawtute movies the scientists played at the lab or the sight of an injured shimmyfly.

And then suddenly gone was that snotty, teary little girl he’d always known. And in her place was…you. A woman grown. Beautiful and bold- and there was strength in your softness now. You’d proved him wrong so many times- made it clear that you weren't another responsibility he’d have to shoulder-

“I can take care of myself, Neteyam” you’d insisted, never letting him carry your heavy baskets or tend to your scraped knees.

It’s maddening, the way that you shrug off any and all of his advances drives him fucking insane.

Neteyam approaches the secluded bank of the watering hole that his family loves best slowly, keeping in the treeline. Just out of sight. Just like he’d expected he finds you and Kiri on the familiar sands. Kiri is lounging in the sun, eyes closed and humming a pleasant tune to herself-oblivious to anything around her. He’d have to chastise her about her complete lack of situational awareness later.

You’re knee deep in the lake- tending to the water lilies that grow close to shore. Your back is to him but he bets your nose is all scrunched up, just like it always is when you’re around anything green and growing. His eyes drink you in greedily. All of your sun kissed skin is on display in the tiny faded pink panties you don for swimming.

He’d never found humans particularly pretty before you. The intense differences in their bodies had never appealed to him-

But Eywa, are you something to look at.

Time had been kind to you, and as you’d grown your body had morphed into something goddess like. You’re a real looker, his father had claimed. Would’ve been a total knockout back on Earth.

You’re all plush curves. Your breasts are pert and sit like rip hanging fruit on your chest, your hips wide and thighs jiggly and thick. And your waist…he’s sure if he put his much larger hands around them, his fingers could touch. He could cage you in his hold.

That thought has him biting his tongue, hard enough to taste metallic. You turn a bit, your laughter chiming over the glittering water like soft wind at some dry joke Kiri made.

Your hair color is light, lighter than any Na’vi’s and falls down around your shoulders in thick waves. He can only make out the side of your face but your full lips are pulled into a coy smile and your light jade eyes sparkle and all hell. Neteyam is so gone on you.

You’re like nothing he’s seen and definitely nothing he’s had.

And since his Iknimaya he’s had his first pick of the women of the clan.

He’s tasted passionate huntresses and flexible dancers alike and none of them satiate his thirst. None of them are able to replicate what he can only imagine you might taste like. It’s almost pathetic how many women he’s had and how many times he’s almost called out your name as he emptied his seed.

Neteyam’s more discreet about his romps than his brother, that’s for sure- but still. It’s a known fact that he’s an unmated male at his prime and that comes with a certain appetite. He can have anyone he wants, any Omatikayan woman would be glad to spend a night with him.

Yet somehow he’s lurking, hiding in the bush. Watching you longingly. Simpering like a pre-teen and pining over the way that the sunlight plays in the strands of your hair.

He shakes himself from his embarrassing reverie.

No one would be able to tell that just moments before he’d been debating on stroking his cock to just the sight of you, lurking in the trees like a creep. No. As he approaches its with his head held high and a sharp smile on his handsome smile.

“Brother!” Kiri grins, sitting up once she clocks him.

“What are you girls up to?” Neteyam greets. Cool as a cucumber.

“Nothing much, just been here since dawn. The waters so high this year!” Kiri picks up a fruit from beside her, peeling at its tender meat “everyone’s been out here today-on the other side, but no one knows how to get to this spot so we’ve had the beach all to ourselves”

You’re coming in from the lapping shore, beaming at him “Look at all the paysul(waterlily) that’ve bloom! I’ve never seen this many- isn't it amazing?”

“They are very beautiful. The rains were hard this year. I’m surprised the flooding wasn't worse” Neteyam tries not to focus on how tiny your chest covering- the bra as you call it- is. He turns his attention to his sister instead.

“Where’s Tuk, I cant believe she’d miss a chance to swim with you guys”

“She’s with mom, stuck on weaving duty since she tore grandma’s favorite tapestry” Kiri snorts because her baby sister had thrown a complete fit when she had been told she couldn't come “What about you? I thought you we’re too busy to hang out with the likes of us”

“I was able to make a little time for my favorite girls” Neteyam jests, amused by your eye roll and Kiri’s scoff “Plus, Lo’ak told me you need some humbling. Seems you forgot who’s the best diver in the family”

“Oh, you’re on, Teylupil(penis face/dick head)”

After stripping down to only his cloth, his cumberband and com left on shore, he slips into the cool refreshing water with a pleased “Ah”. Enjoying the gentle current against his skin-only to be tacked under the surface by Kiri and all of her bony lanky limbs moments later.

The sun soaked afternoon is filled with laughter and splashing. It’s exactly what he needs.

The three of you play in the river like children. Neteyam and Kiri go at it like the always do- careful to be gentle with your smaller form as you join in. It’s easy to forget the looming pressure of the hunt while he’s jumping from the rushing waterfalls and racing his sister, discreetly preening when he wins and you cheer him on with little claps.

Eventually you all tire.

Kiri floats on the water and goes to that place in her head that she so often does. Completely at peace to be surrounded by nature. She claims it’s when she can best hear Eywa.

Neteyam keeps a bit of an eye on her to make sure she doesn't randomly fall asleep again. Hoping she’d have the sense to get back to the beach before that happened.

Water floods his face and goes right up his nose.

His head snaps to you, spluttering and wiping at his eyes, “What the hell?”

You just giggle innocently before disappearing beneath the surface.

Neteyam’s tail flicks with interest.

He decides to let you get your little head start. His heart speeds up with the promise of a hunt before he starts his chase.He might be bigger then you but you're quick and slippery. Your mask giving you the advantage of not having to come up for air like he does.

When he grabs your ankle, so sure he’s got you, you all but kick him in the face to get away.

You little shit.

Fine.

If you want to play dirty, then he’s game.

He allows you to think you have a chance. That you may be winning the little game. You’re heading for the waterfall, planning to hide behind it.

He’s bigger and more trained than you could ever hope to be.

It only takes one well planned move and you’re done.

He yanks a hold of you, secure. He holds you then, your back against his chest and his strong muscle corded arms wrapped around you from behind before propelling the both of you through the pounding waterfall and into the small, closed off cave behind it.

“Neteyam!” You whine, squirming in his hold like a fish and he just laughs because honestly. He can barely feel it. You’re trying to escape with all his might and he’s holding you the way he might hold a child throwing a tantrum.

He leans in close, burying his face in your wet hair, close to your ear “I win, Sylaung(flower)”

He feels you shiver in his arms and it just makes him hold you tighter. He could keep you like this forever, if you’d only let him. Instead he can feel without you even saying so how hesitant you feel about this

“I think I deserve a prize” he pushes on even further and you give him a confused, side ways look. He so graciously allows you to turn in his hold until your chests meet, face to face.

“Like what?” you wonder and you’re too cute. You’re looking up at him, struggling to treading water with your smaller legs- Neteyam lifts you higher, until you’re bracing your hands on his broad shoulders and he’s holding you above the current. Supporting you totally.

“Well what can you give?” His inquiry is almost condescending and you shrug.

“I’m fresh out of gold stars” you tease and he barks out a laugh. Do you think he can't tell? That he can't see the way your cheeks flush and your pulse hammers beneath the delicate skin of your throat?

“What about a kiss” he offers offhandedly and your face scrunches up in a glare automatically.

“You don't want to?...”

“Why do you make fun of me like this, Neteyam” It’s not often he hears your voice this hard, soured by embarrassment and self doubt.

“I’m not making fun of you” he insists with a sigh “I don't know why you always say that. When have I ever given you the impression that I’d do that?”

You won't meet his gaze. Your green eyes flick, anywhere but on him. Zeroing somewhere behind his back. All too interested on the rocky cave wall.

“If it wasn't for this damned mask” Neteyam husks, low and sincere “I’d kiss you right now”

Even still, you don't seem convinced. Won't look at him until he takes your face in his hand, his fingers gentle but insistent. They grip the mask at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Why don't you believe me?”

“I’m nothing like the Omatikaya women you’ve been with” you say plainly like it's so obvious. Like it's a problem.

“I know”

“You didn't even like me growing up. You thought I was annoying”

“That isn't true-”

“It is” you insist haughtily “you’d make fun of me for talking to my plants”

He doesn't mean to laugh, really he doesn't. It’s not the time for it and it just pisses you off even more. He doesn't let you out of his arms even when you swat at him. “Listen, I’m sorry. I think it’s very sweet the way you talk to your plants. I want you to talk to me just like that, please”

That earns him a little giggle and he feels very pleased with himself.

You play with his hair often, most times it's mindless. A way to distract yourself. Your small deft fingers twirl along his adorned braids. He craves the scritch of your manicured nails on his scalp.

“How do you want me to kiss you? If I have my mask on” The interest in your hair is only just veiled. Your attempt at being nonchalant fails.

“Hmm” Neteyam feigns thinking, face screwed up “I think I could come up with a few ideas”

A few thousand more like it. You were the star of all of his fantasies. You, twisted and contorted into positions that would surely make you blush. You, with your mouth hanging slack in pleasure. Screaming his name-

But you hadnt agreed to that. You only, just barely, agreed to let him kiss you.

When he leans in its slow. Slow enough to give you time to push him away.

The waterfall roars in the background, white noise, but even it can't drown out the thunderous beating of your frantic heart.

Then his lips are pressed against your throat, gulping in the sweet scent of you. He cant kiss your mouth, but he can kiss the sweet, smooth column of your neck. Your clavicle. Your quivering shoulders. The heavy flesh of your breast. His kisses are open mouthed, his rough textured tongue dragging over your skin, leaving saliva trails in their wake-

You gasp sharpley when drags the skimpy fabric of your bra down so he can get at your pebbled nipple. He’s just about to suckle, when the moment is broken.

“Guys! Where’d you go?!”

It’s Kiri. Obviously awake from her nap like meditation time.

Your eyes go comically wide and Neteyam reluctantly releases you. Not wanting to get caught with an armful of pretty, half naked human. He’s thankful for the cold water and the way that he can hide the hardness tenting his tweng.

He catches you by the wrist before you can dip beneath the falls-

“We’re not done here, Sylaung” the promise leaves his lips fevor laced and full of heat.

You can only gulp and nod dazed, “I still owe you a kiss” your sweet voice reminds, before you’re ducking back under the water.

Leaving him dazed and buzzing for a moment before he gets it together and follows.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Days later he still hasn't gotten his prize.

Although he’s celebrated by his clan, praised for his successful hunt, he feels like something is missing.

The Harvest Season and its celebrations are well underway. Every night there's dancing and singing around the large bonfires we’re fragrant spiced tailong meat roasts. Neteyam is highly decorated; feathers adorn his freshly braided hair and he's donned his most ornate cumberband. He’s hauntingly handsome

Spider and Lo’ak are sat near the main fire, laughing heartily and sharing a leather gourd full of liquor between themselves.

Spider’s obviously drunk and eyeing Kiri hungerly as she dances with Tuk- he’d never do that sober. Not with Neytiri so near. Lo’ak is lounged out, an attractive female in his lap. She giggles madly at whatever filth his little brother whispers in her twitching ear.

Jealousy bubbles acidicly in Neteyam’s belly and again, he wonders where you are. Why you arent here, in his lap. Letting him woo you.

He figures he’ll have to go to you then, if you won't come to him.

First thing to do is find you.

“Hey, Spider!” the human man is the best place to start. Spider’s eyes are glassy under his mask and still. His friend is excited to see him, greets him with a hand shake and a small hug.

“Neteyam, man! Where have you been all night?”

“Around, you know how it is” Neteyam shrugs, sitting sown on the log, accepting the gourd and taking a swig of the thick sticky sap inside. It burns all the way down.

“This partys essentially for him- I’m surprise you we’re able to get away from dad” Lo’ak shit-talks, like he always does. It’s good natured for the most part “I thought he might throw you a parade or something. Call in the clans-”

“Fuck you, man” Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head at Lo’aks theatrics. “Don't be jealous”

“Jealous of dad? Nah” Lo’ak “Now the women you’re getting? That I might be jealous of”

“Hey!” the girl in his lap, a weaver from a modest family, squrims, pinching at his shoulder “You’ve got all the woman you need for the night, sayrip”

She squeals when Lo’ak squeezes her tight around her middle and blows wet raspberry kisses into her neck.

Neteyam just rolls his eyes and shares a little look with Spider. By the next eclipse, Lo’ak wouldve moved on. He has a knack for loving and leaving.

“Why arent you out there, bro? I saw Amitsa giving you the eyes! She’s so hot and she doesnt ever give anyone the time of day” Spider juts his chin and sure enough. The woman is giving Neteyam longing looks from across the fire. She’s a pretty thing and her sultry voice is renowned in the tribe. He’d be lying if he said he wasnt attracted to her “You’re not gonna go try to get at that?”

No. He’s not.

“Uh” Neteyam scratches the back of his neck “I was actually looking for Flora, I havent been able to find her around lately”

Of course, that sets of a exactly what he knows it would.

His brothers are assholes and have teased his merciesly since discovering his obsessive crush. Spider knocks his much smaller shoulder against Neteyam’s and Lo’ak hoots with laughter.

“How someone can be pussy whipped for pussy they haven't even had is beyond me” Lo’ak snorts and Neteyam gives him a warning growl, his lips snarled up.

It’s nothing he hadn’t heard before.

Lo’ak finds it endlessly amusing that Neteyam had his eye on you, the tiny human he’d grown up so lukewarm about. It had always been his siblings; Kiri and Lo’ak and Tuk that were close with you growing up. Neteyam had never shown a speck of interest until your figure had grown curvy and supple-

“Piss off, I wasn’t asking you” Neteyam gives his best big brother stare down. His golden eyes hard and unimpressed before looking to Spider, hairless brows raised “You know where I could find her?”

“Listen man, she said wasn’t interested in hanging out with anyone tonight” the human man starts with a sigh and Neteyam’s growl is low and warning “-but I’m sure you can find her where she always is”

Neteyam wracks his brain for a moment “The Greenhouses?”

“Bingo” Spider nods, an almost sympathetic look in his eye as he watches Neteyam jump to his feet and set off.

Lo’ak sniggers and the girl in his lap scoffs and mutters something about “shameful, being that twisted up about a tawtute” but Spider says nothing.

Instead his plixr hazed eyes focus on the figure dancing close to the firelight. Kiri lets out a twinkling laugh at something Tuk says and yeah. Spider understands Neteyam. He understands being completely obsessed with something you’ve never had.

Instead of taking a note from his much braver brother, he lifts his mask and takes another shot of the acidic syrup.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Neteyam could make the trek through the forest to Hells Gate in his sleep..

He’d spent a good chunk of his childhood retracing these exact steps, headeded for the familiar concrete fortress that made up the last human outpost on Pandora.

Neteyam had always been far too similar to his mother, for countless reasons. But his distaste for everything industrial was one of the main reasons. As he got older he spent less and less time here. Couldnt be found in the cold echoing hallways like Lo’ak and the girls coul

But even he could admit.

There’s something beautiful about the Greenhouses.

With their dome like structure, the big glass buildings are a fortress for the humans. Inside they’re as hot and humid as the Pandoran rainforests- but circulating Earth air so that the fruits and vegetables that are native to Terra Firme can grow, even on this alien planet.

Neteyam makes his way inside, plugging in the codes into the keypad and letting himself in through the pressurized doors that slide closed right behind him. His eyes are peeled, taking in all of the foreign greenery, hoping to catch a flash of tanned skin or light hair in the cracks between trees.

The Greenhouses are huge. There’s orchards of apples and oranges and long deep garden beds full of root vegetables. Enough to feed the Hell’s Gate settlement throughout the year, to trade with the People of the Omaticaya.

No matter, he’s a blooded hunter after all.

He hones in on that training as he tracks your path. Your footprints along the cement floor are light, and really you barely leave any trace of yourself at all. You float along with light steps and Neteyam truly thinks if you had been born one of the People you would’ve made a fine huntswoman-

He finds you in the shade of the orange trees. You’re up on a stool, gathering the plump fruit and humming a pleasant little tune.

You’re ethereal in artificial sunlight.

You’re something out of the books that Norm used to read to them when they were kids. His favorite had been the one about the boy who would never grow up and the island of Neverland. And the tiny golden dust covered pixi that flitted from page to page.

A fairy.

A being not quite real. Too gentle and feminine to exist.

He likes the tawtute clothes you wear. The small top that clings to your breasts like a second skin and the flowy patterned skirt. Of course if it was up to him you’d only ever wear the garments of the People- or even better, Nothing at all.

You reach too high, strained up on your tippy toes and Neteyam feels irrational fear at that. At all of your delicate skin and breakable neck-

He’s beside you in an instant and he doesn't need a ladder to reach the high hanging fruit you’d been struggling for. He grabs the fruit with one hand while the other stabilizes you, his big palm spread out across the small of your back.

You gasp at his warm touch. Your head snapping in his direction and legs going wobbly.

“Neteyam!”

“Flora” He sighs as he urges you down from the ladder, takes the heavy bucket of fruit from your hands “You really do need to be more careful”

You splutter for a moment, still shocked at his sudden arrival “I- ugh! I was fine!” you insist haughtily “It’s not like I don't do this all of the time. You didn't need to come help me, I can manage perfectly fine on my own”

“Need to help you?” Neteyam cocks his head a bit.

“Yeah…I mean. Why else would you be here?” you ask, scratching awkwardly at your arm for a moment “Tonight's the celebration. You really should be back with the clan-”

“As should you” He cuts you off firmly. Not liking the way that you’re trying to separate yourself from the tribe. From him “I have not seen you for days. Do you not want to feast with our people?”

You sigh, looking away from him. Biting at that plump ever pink bottom lip of yours. Always shy, he knows he needs to bring you out of your shell. You’ll find a way to run away from him again if he doesn't.

“I didnt come here to help you” Neteyam admits because he’s selfish and because you’re too beautiful. Even more so, since you’ve been hiding from him. Avoiding his attention.

“Oh really?” you’re not coy by nature but there's something in your eyes. In the way you’re looking up at him “Then what are you here for?”

“My kiss”

Your pupils expand, just the tiniest bit but he can see it. He can see it all. Every inch of your pretty face, unbridled by that cumbersome mask you usually are forced to don. He can see every freckle and blemish- and the way that a blush creeps across the apples of your cheeks.

“A deals a deal” Neteyam insists at the prolonged silence. At your nervous flicking gaze.

“Okay” is your sweet reply and he can only stare at your plump lips. A man with one thing and one thing only on his mind.

You don't protest when he reaches for you. When his big hands go around your waist and tug slowly until he’s enveloping you in his chest. You fit so perfectly, right under his sternum. Stare up at him with wide eyes that flutter closed the closer he inches his face towards yours.

The kiss is wet and electric and Neteyam wants to eat you whole.

Any awkwardness that comes from the size difference is soon overcome by the desire that simmers between you. You let him lead, always so willing to go with whatever flow he may give. Let him nip at your delicate bottom lip until he can almost taste the metallic twang of blood. Let him stick his much bigger tongue into your warm mouth, and then down your constricting throat.

As you make little gasping choking sounds, he imagines it's his huge pulsing cock stealing the air from your lungs instead.

You gasp for breath when he pulls away, as he trails kisses down your soft jaw. He cant stop, wants to taste you everywhere. Every inch of skin. He know it must be overwhelming- if your heaving breaths and mewls are anything to go by, he knows you’re feeling every inch of the mind spinning need that he is.

Still,

No matter how much he gropes at you with rough hands and drags spit soaked kisses over your neck and chest, youre so good for him. Such a good girl. Holding on for any ride he might take you on. Your fingers twined in his silky braids arent there to push him away, but to pull him closed.

When he grasps you by the back of your thighs and hoists- you wrap your legs around his slim waist, your ankles hooking at his lower back.

The helpless noise you make goes straight to his groin.

Neteyam lies you down on hard floor. He’d rather have you in the warmth of his Kelku, or under the stars, but at least here he can get at your maskless face. At your bare lips. Once he’s cradling your head safely and tucked in between your spread thighs he's at you again. Ravenously.

You’re so docile, so eager to let him take whatever he wants.

“Flora” he husks into your hair and you shiver.

“Yeah?”

“Flora” Neteyam brings your little body even closer.”You have no Idea. I have to have you. I need-”

You squeak needily “You can have whatever you need” and gasp when Neteyam kisses your cheek. Your lips. Your jaw. Your neck. Your nerves are on fire and your hips grind against his.

“I need this body. I need to see all of it, you drive me crazy” Neteyam armits as he tugs on your top and you help him pull it up over your head. You dont wear a bra, why would you? Your pretty rosy nipples are all on display for him. Pebbled and begging for attention, He laps slowly with his wide textured tongue at the puffy nub.

He suckles like a newborn until you’re chivalry and making hurt little sounds, until your pretty chest is covered in blooming bruises.

And then he’s dragging his wanting mouth down. Past your heaving ribs and over your soft belly. Neteyam hikes the flowy material of your skirt up high, until he can bend down and poke his head underneath.

“Oh!” you gasp, writhing a bit. Your thighs trying to close on instinct.

You’re so wet for him, the smell of it is thick and heady and he digs his nose into your inner thigh and snuffles. Its mouthwatering.

And it bit mortifying, from your end. Having the large man with his head buried under your skirt as he sniffs at your core-

When he licks a fat stripe over you, wetting up the thin material of your panties you cry out. No ones ever touched you like this and here he is, licking at your clothed pussy. Over and over until the fabric is translucent and sticky with your flowing juices.

“Please” you mewl, gathering the fabric, yanking until you can see him.

Its filthy and erotic. The sight of his hulking blue body between your trembling tanned thighs. So alien. So taboo-

“Please what, sylaung?” Neteyam taunts, his golden eyes meeting yours. They shine with mirth, and lust. So much lust. When he noses at your pink flowery panties you throw your head back, eyes squeezed closed. Unable to take the sight any longer “You want me to take care of you?”

“Yes” you sob because you’re pulsing and you can barley breathe you’re so horny “Please take care of me with your tongue”

Neteyam strips you then, out of your skirt and cute little panties and you’re lying under him. Naked and flushed and wanting.

He shoulders himself exactly back where he wants to be. Where he’s always wanted to be.

“Don't worry, I’ll take care of this sweet pussy for you”

Oh god. Your head is spinning.

You can barely think as he kisses on the jiggling fat of your thighs.

“I’m sorry” you gasp.

Neteyam hums right against your core and you can feel the vibrations throughout your entire body “What for?”

“I’m so messy” you whisper, that pink blush blooming all over your body.

Groaning, Neteyam can't wait any longer. Your flavor bursts along his taste buds. Tangy and earthy and decadently sweet. He’s had his fair share of cunt before, but he’s never tasted a humans and he’s shocked at how saccharine it is. It’s sticky and coats his mouth and throat. His lips and nose and chin as he digs in.

“Neteyam!” You wait.

“Fuck. Oh, Eywa. One Second” Neteyam sits up and adjusts himself where his painfully hard under his tweng and the ache in you deepens. You try to be good, try to be still as he leans in and licks at you again. Kisses your pussy in that same beautiful passionate way he kisses your lips.

He’s good. Too good at this. He’s had too much practice and you never had a chance againts that oversized mouth.

“Holy fuck” the words sound even more vulgar in your honeyed voice “Fucking hell, Nete. Nete. I’m almost there”

Neteyam grin is hidden between the lips of your pussy. He doubles down, letting you hump and soak his face. Then lapping back at inside of you in a repetitive and ceaseless rhythm, One that has you shaking, arching up off the ground. Your plush thighs closing, clamping around his head as you come.

Your orgasm cinches tight and rushes around you, inside of you, out of you with a gush of slick. It’s so deep. So strong, that it takes a moment for you to truly peak and it leaves you in a daze. Out side of your body as you fuck up againts Neteyams mouth like a wild animal.

You’d never come so hard in your life and it takes a while for you to recenter.

Once youre able to focus past the rushing in your ears, the first thing you notice is Neteyam’s face streaked with wet. Your blush blooms across your cheeks as you both breathe unevenly into the quiet.

“Did that feel good?” Nereyam knows it did, but still. He needs to ask. Needs to hear you say it.

You giggle, girlish and airy as your dainty hand releases his hair and cups at his cheek “So so good. I’ve never felt anything like that before”

His grin is all too feline and seeing those white canines gleam so close to the most sensitive part of you is a little alarming.

“There’s so much more to come, yawntutsyip” Neteyam promises, leading back down. His fingers play with the jiggle of your thigh- so different then any of the Omaticaya women he’s had You squirm a bit, clearly overstimulated, but keep your legs spread anyway.

Neteyams long digits prod gently at your pussy lips. You’re oddly pretty here. All red and rosy and inflamed, like that blush he loved so much on your cheeks. He spreads you with two fingers so that he can look at you inside. At your quivering pink folds and your tiny little hole that clenches when he runs his finger along it.

“You’re so small here” he whispers, completely hypnotized by it “So fucking tight. You’ll never be able to take me”

You whimper unhappily “Don’t say that. I want to- please just try”

“Shh,” Neteyam soothes your cries. Your dazed worries. He distracts you with his tongue, as it swirls over your throbbing clit. It feels a bit like sandpaper to your nerves, but you can get enough.

When his finger begins to breach you, you hold your breath.

Its big, but youre so loose from your first orgasm, so desperate to be filled that he sinks in until the hilt.

Its maddening after that and you grind the back of your head into the hard concrete under you- your eyes closed and your mouth hanging open. The sounds you make are feral and raw-

Neteyam fucks you open with one and then two fingers until its easy. Until the sweet stretch doesn't burn- instead its slippery and wet.horribly wet as Neteyam feasts on you as he fucks you with his fingers-

“Too much-Fuck” you weakly try to pull away from the assult of pleasure but he he’s too strong. Pins you down. Makes you take whatever he wants to give you.

When he lifts your hips up even higher to take a curious lick at your puckered asshole you white out.

This orgasm isnt like the first. You sink under the waves of this one. Your muscles cramp with the intensity. You cant come back to yourself, you can’t cling to anything but Neteyam. You cant even scream.

He’s everything, as he soothes you. As he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before.

“H-hurts” you whimper, eyes filling up with tears. Pussy aching.

“Just a little more baby” Neteyam huffs as he licks at you and stuffs the hand that's covered in your cum down his own tweng. It lubricates the fast and furious pumping of his fist along his rock hard cock.

He cant fuck you tonight, thats something the two of you will have to work up to. He’ll teach your tiny body to take him. To crave penetration.

But with his tongue buried in your pulsating pussy and your scent all around him its easy enough to pretend. Easy enough to imagine shoving himself into you slowly. Stretching you’re ruined. Your hole would never be the same. You’d forever gape because of him-

Neteyam comes with a roar and dirties his loincloth up like a teenager.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Later, after he’s cleaned you both up the best he can and gathered you to his chest. After he’s taken a sip from the breathing mask and nuzzled ar your wispy soft baby hairs that are plastered against the side of your sweaty head-

That he has the urge to read that book again. The one with the fairies. As he watches your slumbering face, your nose scrunching and lips pursing, he thinks the onlt thing missing is the gossamer wings,

His own little fairy.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

AAAAAAND we’re done.

First and foremost I want to give the wonderful @oakbuggy her accolades. Her Neteyam x Flora art inspired this fic 100%. A couple months ago I actually messaged her begging her to let me right this for her because I just couldn't get over this crackship of dreams. Thank you for being so patient with me. I hope you enjoy that overstimulation, baby!

PLEASE GO CHECK OUT HER ART. It’s sooooo delish.

This was a monster to write because I just had so many different ideas of what I wanted to do with the two of them and couldn't pinpoint where exactly I wanted the plot to go. Even now its a bit messy but still. I’m a fucking sucker for Neteyam x Flora and I would be more then happy to write more of them if thats something everyone would be into.

Please give me some feedback. What did we think about this writing style? Do we like the Y/N route more?

Until next time sweet honey bees!

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

can you write 90s Axl Rose being all sweet to his girlfriend and they have bath sex in the jacuzzi in their hotel room?

A/n: the thought of this is really sweet but I just can’t stop thinking about how badly it would hurt like on your knees and stuff, man I’d fall and break my jaw power to you if you could survive bath sex

Also sorry that it’s short I kind of lost motivation halfway through, I hope you it’s still good <3

Warnings: smut, fingering (f receiving), bath sex, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You were so happy that Axl finally brought you out on tour with him. You'd been seeing each other for almost a year and had always wanted to come with him.

Axl was hesitant, tours could be draining, but Guns was going to some of the most romantic places this tour and he was sure it would make a great trip for the both of you.

You'd been so excited for this trip, planning and packing a month in preparation for it. Axl didn't seemed stressed in the slightest, although you were the one packing for him and his trip planning was also done by a group manager. He did try to help you calm down a few times, it usually worked, at the very least it was helpful and a sweet gesture.

When the tour finally came he refused to leave your side, even if you were just going to the bathroom he'd wait outside for you.

With the way everyone was treating you you got the feeling he had given a speech to everyone, lecturing them on how to treat you.

Axl wanted to show you off, always helping you pick out more revealing clothes when it was just the two of you going out, making sure people saw when he brought you into his dressing room. He wanted people to know how lucky he was to have you and he wanted people to know he had you.

It was about a week into the tour, you'd just landed in Paris and were staying in a hotel room that had a window staring out directly onto the Eiffel Tower.

It was night and the city was glowing so beautifully, you couldn't help but stare out the big window.

Axl came up behind you, placing his hands on your hips and giving them a small squeeze. "Beautiful, isn't it?" You nodded. Axl opened his mouth to say something more but you interrupted him.

"No ruining it with something cheesy." Axl scoffed.

"It wasn't gonna say anything cheesy." You rolled your eyes. "I was just gonna say that it's not as beautiful as you." You groaned and walked off.

"Alright, you ruined it." Axl laughed. "I'm going to check out the place." You walked back into the living room area, a half kitchen by the front door. You noticed another door leading out to what you assumed to be a deck, and it was. A deck with a jacuzzi, that is. It was filled and ready to go so you immediately went to get in.

You went to change into a bathing suit but couldn't find one, even though you were sure you had brought one. You searched and searched but it simply wasn't in your suitcase, so you went looking for Axl.

You eventually found him on the deck setting up candles and tossing in rose petals. He smiled back at you when he heard the door open. "Where's my bathing suit?" You asked, coming to stand beside him and admire his work.

"Come on, you don't need a bathing suit." He assured, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your side. You rolled your eyes at him. Axl shrugged and began to strip.

Your eyes widened as you looked out across the city. "What are you doing?" Axl was already getting in the water.

"Thought you could use some company." He said with a smile. "Now you won't be lonely. You chewed your cheek but you couldn't deny that it sounded nice so you stripped as well and got in with him.

The water was just right, it relaxed your muscles and smelled so good with the candles. Axl sat beside you, running his hands over your body, kissing down your neck and whispering in your ear.

His hands moved lower, rubbing your thighs, teasing your hole. You let out a soft sigh. "What are you doing?" You asked, voice low and airy.

"Just helping you relax." He said, deep voice raspy in your ear. You melted under his touch, head falling back and resting on his shoulder and he rubbed your clit in circles, drawing more moans out of you.

He slid a finger into you, groaning when he heard the noise that came from you. "You're so pretty, you know that?" You moaned in response, grinding down on his finger. "Don't worry, we're getting there." He kissed your cheek and pulled his finger out of you, you whined softly.

He pulled you up onto his lap, sinking you down onto his dick. His arms wrapped around your waist and he held you tight to his chest. He rolled his hips, you gasped softly and he did it again. You started grinding down on him and soon you both found a rhythm.

"Ah-ngh, Axl." You muttered. "Fuck, go faster." He chuckled and kissed your neck. He started moving faster and you matched his speed.

Axl pushed you off of him and turned you around. You were staring out to the cityscape below, all the bright lights scattered across the town, the Eiffel Tower looming not far away.

Your hands were on the edge of the jacuzzi, your knees resting on the seats, Axl was behind you with his hands on your hips. "Was this what you were thinking when I asked you to come on tour with me?" He asked, deep voice pulling you from your thoughts.

You shrugged. "Not the first thing that came to mind." He kissed the back of your neck and over your shoulders.

“But it’s pretty fucking nice, huh?” You inhaled deeply, moaning softly when he pushed into you once more.

“Hah, it’s perfect.” You sighed. “You make it more perfect.”

Axl laughed. “And I’m the cheesy one?” You waved him off and pushed your ass back on him.

[ravengards-rogue]

the evening stretch | warm-up series.

ft. the prompts, nsfw / "dinner" / arthur morgan.

✧ tags : afab!reader + fem!reader outdoors sex, oral (f!recieving), reader is an outlaw, established relationship, desperate arthur morgan, 18+

✧ wc : 2.7k

✧ a/n : hello! this is part of a little warm-up series i do on my other blog where i pick three prompts and try to come up with something. i normally do them in a rut. im working on a commission and im super stuck so.

this actually landed on javier four times in a row but im being kind and sparing a friend so. here's mr. morgan.

✧ synopsis : arthur thinks the place between your legs would suit him quite nicely.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

Honest to God, Arthur's never been like this before.

He ain't all that pious to start, so perhaps the sentiment doesn't stretch as far as he would like it too. But it's true, all the same - that in all the lives he's lived, he's never experienced this much bone-deep desire for another human being.

Which is outright ridiculous, since right now you're just making supper. Dinner, you always clarify with that yankee accent. You're going to have dinner together, 'cause Arthur needs to eat. He works hard, according to you.

It's not much, but you're a better cook than Pearson. Even if that's not saying a whole lot. And you're insistent on making the man eat, always on his case about how it's hardly enough for a man his size.

Arthur can chalk it up to being that you love him, as you have told him foolishly many times. He's sure you're not gonna be happy with him in a minute since again - all you're doing is making dinner.

It's just... something. Something about you today. Dammit, he doesn't understand it neither. You've got a job together, and you and Arthur play convincing husband and wife since you practically are anyway. Arthur's been watching you today closely. You lie pretty. Smile with all your teeth, clever with a careful finesse and an honest knack for debauchery and indecency.

You love calling yourself an awful woman. Joking about dying an unweddable spinster given your crudity.

But Arthur likes it in you. Of you. Likes it so much he's done nothing but readjust his pants watching you squirm your way out of every difficult situation and sling the revolver on your hip like a tried-and-true gunslinger.

You're a fine woman to him. A fine one.

The fire crackles as you place a pot over the little flame of the faux stove. You've made a real dinner somehow - with some vegetables and creeping thyme and carefully butchery of meat. It smells good and you seem proud of it, stirring the thing with the sharp end of your knife. Careful not to scrape the pot.

Arthur watches the light glow orange on your face, carefully observing the way it shines on you. You don't look up at all when you speak.

"Gonna stare a hole into me, Morgan."

He feels something warm crawl up his cheeks. He scratches his beard instinctively, tucking his hat over his eyes.

"'m sorry," He says, unsure of how to cover for himself. "Been thinking about some things."

"Don't hurt yourself," You reply, sardonic and dry. Arthur adores you. He laughs to himself and feels warmed by the pleasant smile that seems to give you.

"I'll try. Ain't much used to thinking,"

"Penny for your thoughts, then Mr. Morgan." You reply, carefully moving the pot around so nothing burns. "Might help you clear your mind if you get some of it off your chest."

He's backed himself into a wall. Goddamn him and his big mouth. He hesitates, taking it off this time. Fidgety.

"Yanno, there ain't a lot women like you. Not that I've met at least."

You give him a look. Your lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by him.

"Is that so?"

He laughs to himself. "It is indeed. You're a real piece of work. 'Specially going around batting your lashes, making yourself out to be a housewife."

"Aw what, did you like seeing me all doe eyed?" You smile to yourself, teasing but not entirely insincere. "If it helps, since you're the fake husband, I'm only half-acting."

That makes him grin. Though you say it with confidence, the sincerity it makes you flush.

"It ain't that," Arthur says again, looking at your face for the second time in a few minutes. "Just that you're a fine woman to be around. What do they call it...resourceful. That's what I'm thinking of."

"Who taught you such a big word, Morgan?"

"Trelawny, I'd guess."

You laugh, loud and beautiful and Arthur smiles. You look at him from across the fire. "Well, I'm glad you like my company, Mr. Morgan."

"I do more than like it," He hums, offering a reprieve. He nods at you carefully, head tilted. "Come 'ere,"

Your eyes widen at him, but you don't deny him of what he's asking. For that he is awfully grateful. You're more than capable and much less than needy. There's victory in your deliberate desire for him, Arthur thinks. You want him enough to let him chase you.

You come sit by Arthur. You're a little awkward with him still but he don't mind. It adds to whatever he feels for you, sugar-sweet affection and all. You sit on your knees and Arthur turns his head looking at you.

Beautiful. Beautiful thing you are, really. He has a hard time finding the words to tell you.

He reaches up, hand cupping your face. You lean into the touch, palm resting on calloused hand. He adores you.

"And quit with the Mister Morgan nonsense. Drives me crazy."

"Arthur," You say, slow and deliberate. "You know you're looking at me like you wanna eat me."

'"Read my mind, then."

"Arthur," You repeat, scandalized. He would smile if he wasn't so serious. "We're supposed to be eatin' dinner. You got into a whole spat with them Leymone Riders just today. You need to recover,"

His smile widens.

"Lettin' me go down on ya will heal me just fine,"

You look at him exasperated. Arthur leans into your neck, placing chaste kisses down the line of your jaw. He kisses you just there - underneath your earlobe, knows it drives you crazy.

"Lay down, sugar. Help a poor, injured man heal."

You pull away from him with faux exasperation, fond smiling breaking your face.

"You can be such a dog some times, do you know that?"

"I'm afraid I do,"

You give him another unimpressed look, but you listen anyways. Arthur moves so you can lay down on the bedroll - his bedroll. He takes off his coat just before you lay your head, playing it underneath you to get you more comfortable.

"Dinner's gonna burn," You tell him, almost reflexively. He laughs as he looks at you, your hands folded over your stomach and flat. He laughs at you.

"Burn? You feeling warm?"

"Arthur!"

And he laughs again, catching your boot in his hand as you go to kick his chest lightly. He sets it back down as he stares at you. You're quite the sight. Adoration bubbles up into his throat, blooms out into a hum. The sound of crickets and owls and all sorts of night wanderers sound - but none are distracting enough to pry his gaze away.

"You're looking too much," You say, your voice a half tremble. He nods.

"Got too," Arthur hums, leaning forward into your space. You always smell good to him, some cross between soft earth, and sweet liquor and clothes left in the sun. Skin and salt and sweet. "Who knows how long I'll be around."

He presses his lips to yours gentle and you kiss him - but only once before pulling away. Your eyes suddenly serious, warm palm on his cheek.

"Don't say something so morbid. If you go, I go,"

"Sweetheart—"

"No buts." You affirm, pressing your thumb to his lip all serious. Your eyes meet and for a moment - just one minute, all he wants to do is stop time from moving. From stealing him from you in life at all. Even a few seconds, intolerable. "Don't feel to good to hear, does it? So don't say it."

"Alright, alright," He huffs, laughing against your neck. He kisses it again, right against your pulse - quickening under his teeth as he bites and scrapes. He mulls over how much he wants you, and how little time there is to do everything. "Jus' lemme...I dunno."

Now you're cheeky, smiling up at him. Lord above, you do something so terrible to him. "Now that's just not true, baby."

He laughs deep and raspy. It's not true, because he knows exactly what he's after.

Arthur lets his hands plane over your clothed body. He doesn't bother with the ritual of undressing you entirely - since the act doesn't deserve the intimacy. You do, maybe - but Arthur's head feels too foggy to do anything civilized. He has to settle for letting his hands grip the fabric of your skirt and push it until it bunches around your waist.

There's no real delicacy in it, save for the way your breath hitches as Arthur gives himself better access. He moves to lay on his stomach between your thighs. He wishes it were brighter to give him better view. He's seen it plenty but looking at your pretty pussy alone gets him harder than steel.

His hands go underneath every layer of fabric to undo the little tie of your undergarments. You squirm when Arthur takes them off, but you don't pull away.

It's pretty. Even with the dim light of just the moon and fire to let Arthur see it. What entices him mostly though is the scent, after a long day of riding out alone - there's something about the way you smell - sweat and all that makes the back of his mouth ache with want. Makes his teeth hurt just dreaming about it.

He doesn't let his animalistic urges take him yet. He knows you need the build up. His hand is soft as he grips onto your waist. He pulls your legs further apart and lets his lips brush the inside of your thigh. Starts at your knee and works his way up, his mouth burning hot - open kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his beard, but it's tamped down with lust Arthur knows like the back of his hand.

Slow, deliberate, sinful. He knows the way you liked to be touched so exactly, but the pace is set more by his desperation. It grows ten sizes listening to you sigh and huff, feeling your hands come down to touch his hair and play with it.

"Arthur," Your voice calls. Pleading. Wanting him. You're so good at making Arthur loose his composure with so little. It's hard to tease you as your voice clips off into a whine. "Arthur,"

"I've got you," He says, assured. He means it as much as he means anything he's ever said. He ain't a decent man, but this much he can say full ways. "I've got you, sugar. Ease up. Let me take care of you,"

And so you again, breathless - boneless and eager. You let Arthur into your space, and something about that. Something about you. His heart races, blood pumping through his body. It pulses in his ears, head swimming with nothing but praise for you.

You're a fine woman. You're a good girl. The best he knows.

Arthur can feel the way your clit pulses with want before he ever puts his mouth on you. Makes him chuckle, gloved hand resting on your navel. He uses his thumb to pull it back, before using both hands to spread you open. Then, in an act less then gentlemanly, spits on it hard. He watches it land, lewd as it drips between your fold. He laughs to himself.

Another pitchy call of his name and Arthur decides he's had enough fun to get him through the evening.

He kisses your clit first, thinks it's only gentlemanly. When your hips buck up trying to chase the feeling of his mouth - he laughs. His hands dig into your hips. You're soft, skin dimpling from just how tight he holds onto you.

When he finally gets what he wants, his own body lurches forward from want. He nearly slumps into the ground - half-way between relieved and utterly addicted. It's a sense of euphoria unmatched by the finest liquor or cigars money can be.

The taste of you fills his mouth as Arthur eats.

Arthur is not used to playing predator. Not interested in the act of devouring. You often compare him to some sort of herbivore. But there's something too hungry, too visceral, too primal for him to be anything but a coyote. A teethed thing, all screwed up from hunger.

He lets his tongue slip against the seam of your cunt, all the arousal collecting in his mouth. His senses flood with something heady, sweet but bitter and he groans shamelessly as a result. Spoiled by the taste and utterly debauched.

"Oh, god - Arthur, you're—"

Arthur is pleased by the way your words are cut off by your own moan. He slides his tongue back up, wet muscle firm as it lays flat against your clit. There's a slight twitch like it's asking for more attention.

Arthur is all to eager vtoo provide, closing his lips around the twitching bundle of nerves. He knows what you like. Learned over time just the amount of pressure he needs to suck with and the speed he needs to draw his tongue over your clit to get you right at the very edge of your orgasm.

He teases you to that pace. Slow increases in either or, until it's just at that perfect medium. Once he hits that spot, you always moan so pretty.

You shudder, your body lurching up as your hands get tighter in his hair. "Aah, fuck. Ngh, Arthur. Don't do this t'me."

You begging him not too makes him want to do it more. If Arthur were any less aroused, he would. But his brain can barely think up enough to stamina to do that. His own cock is strained against his work pants - hips instinctively rutting into the bedroll just beneath him. Silently seeking friction all while hoping he doesn't get enough to distract him.

It'd be a damn shame, he thinks - letting anything pull him from the taste of your pussy. From the smell of it, from the sight of it, from the feeling of you. Sticky, pulsing strings of arousal coating his tongue and turning all his thoughts to dust.

His cock throbs again as you rut against his mouth. Arthur pins you in place.

"Please," You say. A magic word he ain't much stronger than. "Please make me cum,"

You really are a good girl, the way you know exactly what makes him tick. Arthur moans into your cunt as he sucks and licks and eats. He'd die over it, and he does not mean it lightly. It's the only thing in the world he wants to do in the moment. He laser focuses on finding that sweet spot again.

And he knows he does when you start whimpering. Squirming and holding onto his soft brown locks and pleading for something you don't know about. He can feel how wet your getting - dripping along down his beard and face. Thick strings of your arousal stick and slide down his neck.

He's never been a messy eater, but you've been disproving many of his prior understandings of himself. He supposes it's only natural.

"Oh, baby," You say, not even his name. Arthur knows it's a warning that you're gonna cum. All he can do is encourage you. He hums into your soft, wet cunt and you groan again. "Fuck, Arthur. I'm gonna cum."

Arthur knows better. He doesn't do a thing but keep going. Lets you move and thrash and pull away but keeps you firm in his place and eats your pussy until you can barely think.

He knows the knot is untying before you do because of how much you squirm. When you cum, you cum hard. Your back arches up into a picture perfect curve, toes curling and hands tugging at his roots for purchase.

He can feel every pulse of desire as you finally do let go. You cry out, loud enough to startle any nearby critters. Your fingers grip tight at the base of his hair as the orgasm washes over you. It's just as magnetic as it was the first time.

He's sure that will always be true.

When Arthur pulls away from your pulsing, wet core - he can feel just how much of his lower face is sticky. He's sure you also know, if the way you laugh is anything to go by.

And he's not long to follow after. Not even a few seconds and he can feel something in pants tighten - a mess of white staining the front of the denim in an onset of lust damn near shameful. Is he a teenager again? Lord above.

Breathlessly, you look down at him after you've ridden your high out.

Pulling up Arthur by the collar, you look at him slowly and frown. You look impassioned and a little frustrated.

You kiss him tender after you've come too. Once, then twice, then a another time with your hand still drawn into a fist. Arthur grabs it closed, opening your palms before kissing the palm of your hands until you're no longer mad.

"Hate how good you are at that," You admit, a little drunk of the euphoria of all of it. "Make me feel so crazy."

Arthur beams at you unapologetic.

"It's good to be that with me, sweetheart." Arthur says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Now how about you go and give me one more?"

You laugh breathlessly but don't go to stop him at all.

"Insatiable man."

"Only for you, my girl."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[velveteenprayers]

11:11

pairing: percy jackson x gn!demigod!reader

summary: percy stumbles into your apartment at 11:11

word count: 1k+

a/n: none! first fic pls be kind 😔

The neon green casts an eerie glow over your room. Frustration grows within you as you realise how late it is. Beneath him, you shuffle, clearly trying to make an escape from his hold, to soothe him, to no avail. You grumble and sigh. And again. And once more, for good measure. Until a weak groan of “Percy….” finally escapes you. The sound of your voice seemingly breaks the spell cast on him by your Hello Kitty digital clock. 

“What are you doing up so late?” you ask, exhaustion laced in your voice. 

“Nothing Bug,” he responds, burning holes into a dark corner of your room. His index finger is tapping against your arm in a way he knows makes you drowsy. “Go back to sleep.” 

It’s not been that long ago since he walked into your bare downtown apartment, nothing with him but his skateboard. He provided no explanation, and you didn’t ask. 

You groan again, and look up at your ceiling. Your ceiling creaks under the steps of your upstairs neighbours, going about their evening.

 “Well, I can’t sleep unless I know you’re sleeping, so…”

A few minutes pass, nothing to be heard except the sound of your fan whirring and a few hoots outside. New York, the city that never sleeps. His city. Sometimes you wonder how you used to think of it in any other way.

Finally, he relents, and collapses next to you, quite a feat for your small mattress, disturbing your toothpaste green sheets, but you find a way to make it work. You always do, for him. A few beats of silence. You reach for his forehead, and he leans into your touch instinctively. Finally, he relieves himself from his ever-busy mind, “Where did you get that clock from?”  

An innocent question, truly, but you know better

“Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.”

He sniggers, and rolls his eyes, and warmth fills your chest, golden and all-consuming. He’s back, your boy, and at this moment that’s all that matters to you.

“And the saying is “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer too.””

You frown, mentally cursing yourself for growing up in a pagan military camp as though you had a choice. Your fingers delicately run through his locs, through those cursed grey strands. (Maybe you would despise them less if you had the other matching half.)

“What difference does it make?” You ask, trying to hide the soft desperation in your voice. To no avail, as it always seems to be with him. Your ugly heart pulled from your chest and displayed for him, always.

“It’s nothing.” He shakes his head, and stares at the ceiling. Irritation gnaws at you, but most of all, a sense of hopelessness, one that stirs within you more often than you’d like to admit. You want to swallow him whole, encase him in your ribs, and never let any monster or God get to him ever again. You want to know him inside out, for it to be indistinguishable without you. But most of all, you want him, in any way he’ll let you have him. You want to be to him all that he is to you. Everything. But you’re only half a god, and you will have to live with whatever you can get. (You think of all you don’t know of him. Bile rises in your throat)

He glances at you, sharp eyes softening. You’ve always thought Pecry had the prettiest eyes you’ve ever known, like waves meeting the sun, the forest marbles you used to play with the Hermes cabin. When camp was different, and you were too. He reaches for your hand, and you let him. He squeezes it. 

“I’m sorry, that was mean. I guess, I just get paranoid sometimes.” 

And you understand, because you’ve seen time and time again how he gives himself to the world and is met with cruelty in return.

“Of what?”

He shrugs, a distance between the two of you reached instantly. “Of, I don’t know, you. You’re just kinda a mystery to me sometimes.” (You wanna laugh at the irony. But you’ve never been as cruel as the world.)

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” 

Your eyes meet his for the first time this evening. You're grateful you’ve always had this in-syncness that seems to be innate. Why did you even worry in the first place ?

“I mean,” he begins, “why did you and your sister stop talking?” The question hits you like a knife to the stomach, conjuring the enraged face of your half-sibling in your mind.

“You see what I mean?”  His voice is gentle, like the sea dying down to meet the shore

“Oh.” Is all you manage to say, burying your face in his neck. He smells like generic lotion and the cologne you got him for his birthday, peppermint and lavender. “I see.”

“Why do you steal so much?”

“How else am I supposed to get the things that I need ?”

“Name, no-one on Gaia’s Earth needs that many porcelain statues.”

You frown at that, but with a newfound myrth. “Don’t talk about my collection like that. It’s very impressive.”

“Whatever Grandma.” he says, grinning, shaking his head in disbelief

You gasp “Grandma. Really. That’s the best that you, Perseus Jackson, saviour of Olympus, could come up with?

You continue, “But it’s the same with you, What was your life like before camp? You never tell me.”

He frowns, before he laughs softly, a sound like rain on pavement. 

“Wow, I guess we’re both bad at this.”

You nod, face still hidden within him.

He just grins, shark teeth on full display, a sight so lovely you have to turn around to fight the feeling in your stomach. You can feel his arms snake around you from behind.

“Let’s make a deal? To be more…open with each other.”

You look up at him, fingers gently contouring his face,  (The world is cruel to him, so therefore you won’t be.)

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With that, the tension in your body gives, the knots in your stomach untie and you lay next to him. His hand finds your back, rubbing soothing patterns.

“But stop robbing aunties in Chinatown of their antiques.” “Screw you.”

His laugh is the last thing you hear before you doze off again, a sound you hope you can hear until the end of  your short, cursed life.

[wonniesdoll]

locked up - yjw

MDNI 18+ ONLY! this is SMUT.

- this is my first time ever writing smut, so feedback is totally appreciated but pls be kind and lmk what you think :)

- english is not my first language! do lmk if you see any spelling mistakes hihi.

-

warnings: female reader, throat fucking(f!receiving), chastity belt(f!receiving), anal play(f!receiving) reader can be picked up and carried, hair can be grabbed, "you" pov, vaginal pleasure denial? is there a word for this idk!! degrading word! (slut) used on reader, jungwon is readers bf and they are kinky! reader is desperate but super into what's going on

umm.. this is my first smut so lmk what else i should add here since idrk how tumblr etiquette works but lmk if i did anything wrong pls!

also how do you make text a different color without having it be underlined pls help me a girl is struggling! also sorry the layout is ugly i was struggling with all the editing omg but happy reading! if anyone has tips or anything for me or wants to be friends even plsplsplps slide into my dms I'm so nice!!!

it starts here!

an irritated whine rips out of your throat as your boyfriend, jungwon, puts the stupid, stupid chastity belt on you. the one he's been threatening to put on you as a punishment since.. well, for a long time. but today is when you managed to make him snap.

finally.

the action of him going through with putting you in the chastity belt proves to frustrate you even more, the cage encasing your throbbing pussy into an evil metal cage.

specifically designed to deny you pleasure.

"shut up, brat." he angrily mutters, his hands working harshly to secure the belt as you squirm on the bed.

"I'll be good from now on, i swear!!" another whine of protest slips out, and you immediately draw back seeing the way Jungwon's eyes narrow at you when he hears your voice once more.

"I told you earlier, baby. sluts like you don't deserve pleasure. pleasure is for good girls." he says, fastening the belt for the last time and securing the it with a small padlock before pulling back slightly to admire his handiwork, key in hand.

you're prettily sprawled out and squirming underneath him, naked, just how he likes it. your soft skin is glowing underneath the faint streams of evening sunlight filtering through the curtains and onto your desperate, pathetically adorable body.

"I'm sorry for touching myself without your permission, but isn't this a bit too harsh? a chastity belt, really?" you complain diligently, still wanting to stay on his good side for the sake of your throbbing pussy.

Jungwon simply grins in response, his dimples making an appearance and melting your heart despite your uncontrollable horniness as the chastity belt restricts you.

"i told you, no cumming for a week. how am i supposed to know you won't try to get that desperate pussy off while I'm away, hm?"

his catlike eyes glance down at the chastity belt, a metal one he had ordered to be perfectly fit for your pretty body. he smirks again before stuffing the key into his pocket and shuffling a bit further away to admire you even more.

"i won't! please just take it off, Wonnie.." you whimper, begging softly, wanting nothing more than to jump on top of him and ride his thick, hard dick until you both pass out.

"if you had been a good girl, this wouldn't have happened, you brat." he grins as he comes closer to your figure on the bed, languidly sliding his hand down the chastity belt, right where he knows your slit is dripping and quivering.

so wet. so ready for him. so naughty.

you watch him with dilated pupils. dirty, vile thoughts running through your pretty little head as he continues his teasing ministrations.

your breath hitches when his hand suddenly slips lower, tracing along the metal ring that presents your other hole to him. the forbidden one.

that's right. not only does Jungwon's punishment include denying you of your own pleasure for a week, it also includes him taking you anally, since he sure as hell isn't going to suffer through a week of no sex because of your bratty behavior.

"do you remember the rules i explained earlier, baby?" your boyfriend asks, his pretty fingers circling around your puckered hole as he watches your facial expressions carefully.

he loves you after all, and he wants to make sure you're not uncomfortable throughout this entire encounter.

"yes i do. you're not touching my pussy for a week, nor am i allowed to. you'll satisfy yourself by using my ass or my mouth." you obediently repeat the rules back to him, eyes lighting up at the smile on his face at the sight of you being so good.

"that's a good girl." he praises you, his finger dragging some of the slick on your inner thigh before lazily falling back to your asshole, which he begins teasing with that very same finger.

you jolt in surprise, trying your best to relax as you sink into the pillows, a faint whimper escaping you at the feeling of his fingertip stretching your ass out slightly as it begins tipping into you. the heels of your feet dig into the mattress slightly as you focus on the delicious feeling.

your eyes land on the bulge that can easily be seen in his sweatpants. he's been achingly hard ever since he got home, expecting to see his sweet, cute girlfriend readily waiting at the door to be able to greet him with a kiss and a hug like usually.

yet, all he was met with when he tiredly walked in after a long day of recording and practice, was a dark house along with faint moans coming from your shared bedroom.

upon further inspection, Jungwon had found you, wearing only one of his shirts. the fabric of the white cotton was draping onto your thighs as you rode a pillow. his pillow. there was a blissful look on your face as you chased your high with closed eyes and an open mouth, sweet little moans slipping from your lips as you called out for your boyfriend while having absolutely no idea that he was watching you from the doorway.

that's how you ended up in this predicament in the first place, now having little to no say in what would be done to you during the oncoming week. and you couldn't be more turned on at the thought.

the thought of Jungwon using you for his pleasure while simultaneously denying all of your needs made your pussy unbelievably wet, little droplets of your essence already leaking through the slit of the chastity belt, staining the silver metal in your juices.

you opened your legs a bit wider for him to get a good look at the sight of his finger sliding in and out of your exposed asshole, the metal ring almost serving as a guide for where exactly to train your eyes to have the best view.

"f-fuck.." you bite back a moan. anal had always been something you'd been into, and it's only recently that you brought it up with Jungwon, who was more than happy to help you indulge in your desires.

"language." you jolt when your boyfriend slaps your inner thigh sternly, yet softly. his tone isn't angry, it's a warning.

"sorry, wonnie.." you smile sheepishly as he continues to gently stretch your asshole with his fingers.

one finger, then two, then three. at this point you're a blubbering mess. uncontrollably moaning as your chest rises and falls rapidly while he fingers your asshole with a smirk on his face. "wonnie please.." you beg softly, your sweet eyes pleading with him.

"not a chance, baby." the man simply grins at you before reaching over and grabbing an adorable buttplug off the bedside table. it's metal, it has a base with a pink, heart shaped jewel that perfectly matches some of the other cute pink pieces of lingerie Jungwon buys you all the time.

he coats it in a layer of your slick that's leaked out of the slit in the chastity belt before carefully slipping it into your tight asshole, presumably to keep you nice and stretched for when he wants to use you there, which you absolutely couldn't wait for.

"please, not even anal? you really won't even fuck my ass? i need it wonnie.. please." you beg softly, wanting nothing more than to have your boyfriend's pretty cock sliding in and out of you while you moan into his mouth.

"no. you don't deserve to be touched by me right now, you've been bad." Jungwon huffs in response, making sure the buttplug is fit snugly inside of your tight little ass. his hand comes down to leave a smack on the skin of your plush ass, grabbing a handful and spreading your cheeks to get a good look at the buttplug inside you and the metal ring which would allow him to use your ass at all times if he so wished to.

his eyes then moved upwards, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he trains his gaze onto the metal slab encasing your pussy. your tight, sweet wetness. he lets out a small, audible groan at the sight of the amount of essence dripping out of the slit in the middle of the chastity belt, imagining how good your tight pussy would feel right now, skilfully gripping his aching cock as you whimpered his name.

he shakes away the thoughts, wanting to stay strong and true to the discipline he has planned for you, finally allowing his eyes to peer even higher and to look at your desperate, adorable face.

your pupils are completely dilated, your beautiful tits moving up and down with the deep breaths you take as you look deep into his eyes with the most desperate expression he's ever seen on you.

"please?" you plead innocently.

fuck.

fuck.

Jungwon could smack himself in the face in frustration, his cock twitching at the sound of your sweet voice, sounding so pathetic. so pretty. so perfect. He wanted nothing more than to rip that chastity belt off you and to bury himself deep inside your wonderful pussy for all eternity.

but he didn't. he wouldn't.

"No. Now stop whining and get on your knees." his hands move to the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down along with his boxers as you rush to kneel in front of him.

Jungwon smirks down at you as he pulls his hard cock out of his sweats, eyes trained on your desperate face.

your own eyes are locked on Jungwon's hard cock. the shape of his mushroom tip, each vein, each barely noticable ridge completely engraved in your mind.

you were a slut for cock. you were an absolute whore for your boyfriend's cock, though.

The man in question stands tall in front of you, grabbing the base of his cock and hissing softly as he strokes himself a few times, his free hand reaching towards your hair to grip it, gently pulling your face closer to the twitching muscle as you breathe out in contentment.

"suck." he commands, slapping his achingly hard cock onto your cheek twice.

you don't have to be told again, opening your mouth and swirling your tongue around his pink tip, savoring the taste of the precum that's been dribbling out since he got home.

a small moan escapes you just as Jungwon groans in satisfaction, leaning back against the wall as he watches you slowly work your way down his cock.

you look up into his eyes, making eye contact as you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head.

the sight above you belongs in a magazine, or on the wall of a museum, maybe it even deserves to be displayed on one of gigantic building's screens in time square.

jungwon is looking down at you, the same intensity in his eyes that's undoubtedly being mirrored back to him as you suck him off how he likes it. his lips are parted as he groans, waiting for the perfect moment..

it's when you finally ease his cock into your willing, tight throat that jungwon knows it's okay for him to retake control. so he does.

you moan softly around his cock as both hands trail down, gripping your hair tightly, yet gently.

"tap my thigh twice if you want me to stop, yeah?" he whispers, stroking your hair affectionately before his expression hardens and he stands up a bit straighter.

you can barely nod due to his tight grip, but you both understand it. you're ready.

with that, he takes control. his hands are swiftly tangled into your hair as he thrusts forward slowly, burying his length deep into your throat and letting out what's possibly the sluttiest moan you've ever heard from a man.

you're no different, trying to trail your hand down to rub your clit before the realization sets in. you're locked. caged up. your poor clit and hole completely off limits.

you're not sure if you tear up because of the thought that you can't get off, or because of the fact that the tip of Jungwon's cock keeps slamming against the back of your throat, but you quickly focus on relaxing your throat once more, trying not to choke too much as your boyfriend fucks your face, smirking when he sees you remember the chastity belt.

"aw, my poor little slut." he grins devilishly, driving his throbbing cock in and out of your throat. "can't even get off without me, hm?" he smirks at the way you look right now.

there's an almost dollike expression on your face. to him at least. your pupils are completely dilated as you try to keep eye contact with him, there's a bunch of drool running down the corner of your mouth, and dripping down your face and onto your pretty tits, the mixture of your saliva, tears, and his precum making him twitch in your throat.

Mmm," he hums, his hips undulating in a rhythm that matches his moans. His left hand lets go of your hair, now trailing down, he gropes your breast, squeezing and pinching one of your sensitive, hardened nipples. his thrusts don't slow down at all as he lazily plays with your tits while fucking your throat.

"fuck. I'm close." jungwon warns, his hips not stilling at all as he pistons in and out of your willing mouth. you're all too turned on right now, and he can tell by the way your arousal is leaking from the slit in the chastity belt and onto the floor while you choke on his cock.

the mere thought of you being so turned on yet so helpless makes his vision go white as his orgasm washes over him. his hips twitch uncontrollably as he shoots his load deep into your throat. his hands are now both gripping your head tightly as he keeps you right where he wants- no. where he needs you as he fills your throat with his pearly cum while moaning out.

he groans out, his hips jerking violently as he empties his cum down your throat. "Swallow." he commands, his grip tightening in your hair.

and you? you couldn't be happier. your own eyes roll back as you feel his cum invade your body. the way he's holding you down so tightly, his cock absolutely enveloped by your throat as he cums down it. you obediently swallow around him, the feeling of your throat convulsing around his length making him let out another deep groan.

your nose is buried into his neatly trimmed pubic hair as he holds you there for a few more seconds. he then pumps in and out of your mouth twice to ride out his high before finally pulling out, allowing you to catch your breath.

you pant, looking up at him with teary eyes and a messy face. "i swallowed.." you inform him in a timid tone, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

"I know," he smirks, his hand moving to stroke your cheek gently while you open your mouth to show him you really did swallow all the cum he spilled inside. "such a good girl."

you look up at him pleadingly, whimpering softly. "please, wonnie.. it's not enough!" you complain once more, tugging on the stupid chastity belt in frustration.

Jungwon giggles softly, taking his pants and boxers off completely before leaning down to pick you up and take you into his arms, carrying you to the bed with ease.

you relax as he lays you down on the bed on your back, taking another good luck at your pretty little plugged up asshole, the ring around it making it even prettier.

he's always liked jewelry on you, after all.

his hand trails down and he strokes his throbbing cock once more, cursing softly when he realizes he's still achingly hard for you.

you whimper once more, spreading your legs a bit more and pulling them up to your chest, showing off my caged pussy and the jewel on the hilt of the buttplug.

"wonnie please.. just want your cock in me. I'll be a good girl, i swear. please?" you beg pathetically, tears now dripping down your sweet face due to the sheer frustration you felt at your needy pussy being so neglected. he wouldn't even touch your ass?

Jungwon simply smirks, cooing at you before leaning over you to kiss you passionately, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue as his hands trail down your body, resting on your tits as your legs wrap around his waist.

the tip of his cock leaks precum all over your caged pussy, the metal now coated in small spurts and smears of the pearly essence.

he kisses you a bit more, tongue exploring your mouth as one of his hands slide from groping your pretty tits to your hips before finding its way between your legs to gently tug the buttplug out.

you draw in a sharp breath at the intensity of his actions, a shiver running down your spine as he leans down to whisper in your ear as you feel the buttplug gently being pulled out of you.

"are you ready for me, baby..?"

2024 © wonniesdoll on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  

-

*screams internally* if u read to here idk i just planted a fat kiss on ur forehead mwah ily and I'm making an introduction post soon SO STAY TUNEDDDD

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 8 - "Give me that, before anything happens."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

"Don't touch that." Constantine said without even looking up from the book he was reading through for research. Phantom had joined the Justice League dark only recently and was still in that sort of mentor - glorified babysitting - state. It was just his luck that he lost in the stick draw and had now to 'mentor' the who-knows-how-old-he-truly-is Ghost King.

He should have stuck this job to Zatanna. The 'kid' was curious as a cat and apparently wanted to touch every good damn artifact in the House of Mysteries that Constantine had ever gotten his hands on.

"Don't touch that either." The Brite muttered without looking up, he was so close in figuring out the actual meaning of the curse placed on a good damn church bell that causes everyone who hears it to fall asleep at midnight sharp and wake up at 8 AM later like nothing happened. Behind his back Phantom stuck his tongue out at the man before reaching out to poke the artifact that caught his eye anyway. However the House of Mysteries had other ideas as it reconstructed itself at the right moment and put the artifact further away from Phantom.

The Ghost King pouted, crossing his arms and floated over to where Constantine was pouring over a curse seal. Phantom hummed as he looked over the Brites shoulder grinning. "Oh I didn't know you could use ghost speech for curses!"

"Say what now mate?!" John's head snapped to the side to stare at Phantom who was now floating over his shoulder. "It's in ghost speech? What even is that?"

The Ghost King had the nerve to give him an unimpressed stare that really made the Brite need a smoke, but he had given Zatanna his good damn word not to smoke around the 'kid', so that was a no.

"Ghost speech. The language of the Infinite Realms also known as the Ghost Zone, After Life, Hell, Home of the Damned, and so on and so on." Constantines eye twitched as the Ghost boy shrugged. He let out a suffering sigh and pushed his copie of the curse seal over to Phantom.

"What does it say?" The other blinked for a moment before turning his eyes to the photo. A scratching static white noise filled the Brite's ears and he yelped in pain, covering his ears. The noise instantly stopped and Contantine glared at the Ghost King who sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, I will say it again in English."

Constantine only grumbled something inaudible before motioning for the other to continue.

"You idiots don't sleep enough. Go and get at least eight hours of sleep. If you don't sleep by midnight I will be the one to make you sleep."

"The hell?"

"That's what's written there."

"Don't tell me we have another good damn Sandman problem on our hands." John gripped with one hand at his hair, he really hoped that wasn't it because dear good he did not want to get Batman or one of the other Not Dark heros involved.

"Nah, he goes by Nocturne, he never liked that name some philosophers came up with. But this does go against the agreement I had with him."

Was this how Batman felt when his Robins went against his orders? Or how the mentors of the Yonge Justice feel when the teens sass back? Because Constantine was sticking this ancient kid of a Ghost King onto Zatanna the next change he got.

"You know how to lift that curse then?" Instead of going further into a rabbit hole, Constantine decided it was easier to just find out if the Ghost King can lift a good damn curse he had been working on solving for days now instead of finding out who the hell Nocturne was now.

"Of course I know." Phantom answered easily, floating on his back around the room like he was going with the flow of water. Glowing green eyes going along the shelves where various books and artifacts were thrown on, in no particular order.

"Great. Let's go and fix this then." The man muttered, getting up from his chair and grabbing his coat. "I need a bottle of whiskey after this and a good damn smoke…"

Phantom just followed behind the man ready for his second official job with the Justice League Dark. He grinned happily of finally getting some outside action only to come to a sudden halt as the Brite man whirled around glaring at the Ghost King only inches from his the other.

"Phantom?"

"Yes?" The 'kid' answered nervously.

"Give me that, before anything happens. How often did I tell you NOT to touch anything of the artifacts? Do you even know what that thing does!"

Reluctantly like a reprimanded child the Ghost King handed over a golden plate with a glowing green crystal embedded into it, Constantine remembered it being the leftover part of a demon they had banished. The man narrowed his eyes. "The other one too."

"Fine…" Phantom handed over a crystal zepter, John had picked up from an ancient tomb. "Didn't think you noticed me picking them up, since you didn't say anything before I even touched them."

"Mate, you are forgetting who currently owns this house."

[perotovar]

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 2) "session two"

gif by me

pairing: javier peña/joel miller rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 4.3k content: use of a plug, throat fucking, ass eating, lots of spit, gratuitous descriptions of cum, unprotected p in a, creampie, (safe) breathplay, background handjob, cock slapping, one (1) spank, joel's porn persona is a tad mean but it's nothing crazy, shy!joel, javi is a HUGE flirt, smoking, lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics betas: @qveerthe0ry & @scenaaario (ily angels ♥)

series summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where javier and joel are gay porn stars~

series masterlist | shoutout to this spanish dirty talk reference

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary ♥

“Fuck.”

Javier hadn’t had to prepare in a while. At least a few months. And the fact that he was doing this for Joel, of all men? He was harder than a fucking rock and he hadn’t even gotten the plug all the way in yet. Granted, he’d purposely chosen a smaller plug so he could still feel the stretch when Joel pushed that thick–

“Mierda,” he groaned, looking over his shoulder to see if he could get a better angle. The plug he chose was small, black, and a little thinner than he would normally go for. It’s been a while, so no matter what, there was a stretch but the lube certainly helped. When his hole finally sucked it in lewdly, he moaned, arching his back like a cat presenting himself to a mate. He grinned to himself and rested his head on his folded arms, ass in the open air of his apartment. 

He wished that his first major scene with Joel wasn’t a scene. He wanted to see if Joel was any different when the cameras weren’t on and he could just be himself. Every time he’s ever talked to Joel, he’d been quiet, with a heavy brow. Javier had been around the block once or twice and he could tell when someone didn’t like him. He’s not sure what he did to get on Joel’s bad side, but he hoped that tension added to the scene instead of making things awkward. And part of him liked the rift. It made Joel way more attractive to him, because Joel was probably the closest the site had to a bear, but not as big. Javier had always wanted to be fucked by one– 

Bzz. Bzz.

Cracking open an eye, Javier looked as his phone lit up next to him. He sighed and started rolling his hips side to side, slowly getting used to the feeling of being filled up again.

R u ready ?

“Who still texts like this, Jesus Christ,” he grumbled to himself. A slow trickle of sweat fell down the length of his back as he started typing a response.

Be there shortly, boss.

Javier rolled his eyes to himself. Max was always on his ass about being on time, but it never bothered him. They couldn’t start the shoot without him anyway. His cock throbbed between his legs, making him curl his fingers around his shaft. 

One quick wank couldn’t hurt right? 

Joel was panicking, to put it mildly. He showed up to the shoot way too fucking early and now he was rocking a semi in the hallway outside the room they’d be using. They, meaning him and Javier, because of course he hadn’t fully processed that that was still happening. He couldn’t get the image of Javier’s mouth around his cock, that mustache framing it so perfectly. Or his hole being stretched by Joel’s cock, or even–

“Hey, big guy.”

The words sounded like they were coming from down the hall and directly in his ear simultaneously. He slowly looked up to find Javier smirking down at him. Joel swallowed around a lump in his throat and cleared his throat awkwardly. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. Javier looked really fucking good – when didn’t he – with a healthy glow and slightly tousled hair. Had he freshly cleaned up his mustache this morning?

“Joel?” Javier chuckled, a soft smile coloring his features.

Joel cleared his throat again and stood awkwardly. “S-sorry, uh, hey,” he mumbled, looking down at his boots before keeping his eyes off of Javier’s, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where ya been?” 

It was meant to be casual conversation, he swears, but he’d lowered his voice and it came out all gruff and accusatory and now he wants to hide in the broom closet. He knows this because the easy, relaxed look on Javier’s changed to one of confusion.

“Uh, preparing. Sorry, I know I was a little later than usual,” Javier exhaled. Guess he was right; Joel wasn’t the biggest fan of his. That’s fine, he was a professional and he could get his job done and go home. “See you in there, hombre.”

Joel blinked a couple times, looking at the empty area of the hallway where Javier was just standing. “W-wait,” he grunted, looking toward the room. Javier was digging into the pocket of the robe he was wearing and lighting up a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from the face of the assistant he was talking to.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” Joel grumbled to himself and stepped inside.

Javier wasn’t opposed to an audience per se, but he wasn’t expecting one today either. “What are you cabrones doing here?” He smirked, looking at the faces of his coworkers. Not all of them were here, but Dieter, Shane, Dave, Marcus, Din, Steve, Cobb, and Jack were. Everyone was in various positions of comfort, some sitting and some standing or leaning. Except Dieter, who was sitting on Din’s lap comfortably, resting his head on the bulkier man’s shoulder. 

“Wanted to see the show, of course,” Dieter grinned, winking at him. Joel stepped onto the set and saw all the men. He gave Dieter a look, and Dieter responded with a softer smile as if to say, You got this.

Javier rolled his eyes and smiled. “Alright, whatever, you perverts.”

“Alright, people, let’s get this show on the road! We’ve got a longer one ahead of us and I’ve got a date tonight.”

Everyone froze and looked at Max like he grew a third eye. 

Max frowned. “It’s not that rare– Y’know what, fuck you guys. Joel, Javi, get into position,” he grumbled, sitting in his director’s seat.

Javier looked at Joel and snorted, untying his robe. He threw it to their audience like they were a bunch of fans, and laughed when Marcus caught it. Javier winked at him, making the slightly younger man’s cheeks flush.

Joel was doing his damndest not to bust a fucking nut right now because obviously Javier was naked. That was his fucking job. That was his fucking job, too.

“Joel,” Dieter whispered. Joel looked at him, a slightly panicked look on his face. Dieter motioned for Joel to come over to him, so the older man did. “What’s goin’ on, huh?” Dieter asked quietly. Joel looked at Din wearily, who just smiled politely. “Oh, he’s not gonna say anything,” Dieter smiled, leaning over to give Din a quick kiss.

“‘M just,” Joel sighed. “Think he thinks I don’ like him.”

“Why would he think that?” Dieter pouted. When Joel didn’t answer right away, Dieter furrowed his brows at him. “Did you do that grumbly thing you always do?”

Joel mumbled under his breath and looked down at his boots.

“Miller! Get in frame,” Max barked.

Joel sighed and ruffled Dieter’s hair a little. “Showtime.”

Javier felt like his throat was on fire, tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he was having a hard time breathing. Joel’s cock felt so thick and hard inside his mouth and he was more turned on than he’d been in a long fucking time. 

“Yeah, shut ya up real good, huh?”

Javier moaned weakly, big brown eyes glassy as they looked up at Joel’s hard face. He choked every time the head of Joel’s cock hit the back of his throat but he couldn’t give a damn. This was probably the messiest head he’d ever given someone, slobber pouring out the sides of his mouth and down Joel’s shaft. 

Joel’s lines had instructed him to tell Javier to keep his hands to himself, so of course he obeyed. He dug the blunt nails of his fingers into his bare thighs so hard he was afraid that he’d break skin.

“Ain’t such a brat now that y’got a cock in your mouth, huh?” Joel sneered, tugging on Javier’s thick locks. Joel’s eyes were glued to Javier’s plump, swollen lips wrapped so tightly around his cock, that perfectly trimmed mustache framing them so beautifully. A full body shiver zipped down his spine when he saw the glossed over look in Javier’s eyes and tear tracks staining his cheeks. He shut his eyes in bliss and exhaled heavily as his hips moved of their own accord, his heavy balls slapping Javier’s chin lewdly.

Javier let out a low noise, his brows furrowing slightly. Joel looked down, worried he’d pushed too far, but saw that Javier was looking up at him with this fucking look in his eye. Even if Joel was technically in charge, at least in the script, he knew Javier had him hook, line, and sinker right now. And he thinks Javier knows that, too. 

Joel’s hips bucked at the twinkle in Javier’s eye, making Javier choke loudly. Slowly, Joel removed his cock from Javier’s swollen mouth. Loud, wet coughs left Javier’s lips, but he looked at Joel with a smirk on his face.

“Thought you were gonna fuck me, old man,” Javier rasped, sweat dripping down his neck.

“But you’d like that, wouldn’ya?” Joel grumbled. His cock throbbed heavily between thick, muscled thighs and Javier couldn’t take his eyes off it. The twitching made his own cock weep at the sight. “S’what I thought,” Joel hummed, harshly gripping Javier’s hair again. He curled thick fingers around the base of his cock and lewdly slapped the head against Javier’s tear-stricken face. 

Javier’s entire body shivered at the demeaning act and he bit his lip, looking at the hard lines in Joel’s face, and at the gray streaks in Joel’s hair. He was easily one of the most menacingly beautiful men he’d ever seen. He kissed and licked and sucked down the shaft of Joel’s cock until he sucked one of his heavy balls into his mouth. He moaned happily around the sensitive skin and looked back up at Joel through his lashes.

“Fuck me,” Joel groaned, breaking character slightly. He couldn’t fucking help it. Not when Javier was looking at him like that.

Javier made an approving sound and lewdly popped the ball out of his mouth, kissing up Joel’s soft, hairy stomach. “That’s my line,” he improvised with a grin, and sucked a dark mark into Joel’s hip.

Joel almost smiled, but at the last moment, remembered they were in fact not alone and had a script to follow. He quickly hardened his eyes and gripped Javier’s arms and manhandled him until Javier was laying over the arm of the couch, cock trapped between his body and the scratchy fabric.

“That what y’want, huh?” Joel grunted, gripping Javier’s ass in a bear paw. “Want me t’fuck this little ass until ya can’t walk no more?”

Javier moaned and arched his back, pushing his ass further into Joel’s hand and tried to grind against his cock. He nodded as much as he could with Joel pulling on his hair like he was, throat bared and panting hard. Joel pressed on Javier’s sweaty back to keep him down, before using both hands to slowly spread his cheeks. He groaned at the puckered little hole, carefully covered in lube from his earlier preparation. Pressing there with the pad of his thumb, he smirked when Javier moaned weakly below him.

“P-please, Joel,” Javier breathed heavily. Javi didn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice. He’d been built up too much and poked and prodded enough that he just needed something inside him already. “Please.”

“Hmm,” Joel hummed, pretending like he was thinking about it. He removed his hands from Javier to finally remove the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing. He could’ve sworn he heard someone from their little audience groan as his naked body was revealed, but he chose to ignore it, far too focused on the sight in front of him. “Don’t think so, sweetheart,” he grinned wickedly, his tone fake-sweet, and collected saliva in the back of his throat. He got down to his knees, thankful that the pillow there would be out of frame in the finished product. He spit directly onto Javi’s hole and gripped the small, plump cheeks in both hands. 

Javier gasped weakly, legs trembling under Joel’s ministrations. Joel was going to fucking kill him.

“Not yet, at least,” Joel mumbled, biting one of Javier’s cheeks before licking a thick stripe up from Javier’s taint to the top of his hole. A breathless huff left Javier’s lungs and his eyes rolled back at the feeling. “Y’mouth makes such pretty noises when ya ain’t runnin’ it,” was all the warning Javier had before Joel’s tongue pierced his hole and started fucking him in earnest.

Joel’s tongue was thick and wet and messy and he sucked loudly and slurped at a volume that should’ve been uncomfortable, but all Javier could do was moan and whimper, completely at Joel’s mercy. His eyebrows were downturned and his lips were parted in an obscene O, arms shaking as he held himself up on the couch. “Mm, fuck, J-Joel, I’m gonna fucking come, I’m–!” He was babbling and trembling and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He barely heard anything over the roaring in his ears.

“No, you’re not,” Joel grumbled between the lewd feast he was enjoying, landing a harsh smack! against one of Javier’s cheeks. “Don’t come until I say ya do.”

Javier groaned and bit his lip, his trapped cock weeping and throbbing between his legs. “Mierda,” he panted, hanging his head low between his shoulders. He tried grinding against the scratchy fabric of the couch for some kind of friction, but to no avail.

Joel grunted into Javier’s ass, convinced that he could stay here for hours if he was allowed. When he pulled his face away, his eyes latched onto the fluttering little hole in front of him and hummed in satisfaction. As he stood, his knees whined and creaked in protest and hopefully, if Max were nice to him for once, he’d edit the sounds out. 

Broad hands traveled up Javier’s heated skin, taking him all in as he panted heavily underneath the older man. He knew today would be good but nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Maybe he should keep his distance from Joel more often, if this was the end result.

Joel was ecstatic on the inside, the memories of their first scene together coming back to him. He’d almost forgotten just how pliant and cat-like Javier could get if pushed enough. The sounds he made were like music to Joel’s ears, and he wished he could keep them in a bottle reserved just for himself. 

He gripped Javier’s sides and manhandled him again until Javier was on his knees on one of the cushions and facing the back of the couch, hands planted on the back. Joel spread Javier’s cheeks again and hummed at the way the younger man clenched on instinct. He left Javier in that position for a second while he went over to an assistant off camera and grabbed some lube, making quick work of getting his cock thoroughly coated. He held Javier’s side, right where his ribs were, with one hand and gripped his cock with the other, grinding his shaft between Javier’s cheeks. 

Javier cried out loud, electricity shooting through his body and settling as heat at the base of his spine. 

Joel grinned, tapping the head of his cock against Javier’s hole before slowly, agonizingly so, pushed the thick head inside him. The air left Javier’s lungs as he froze, the pressure and the weight of being so thoroughly stretched overwhelming him. He grunted as Joel’s hips sat flush against his ass, breathing heavily as his arms trembled against the back of the couch. Joel stroked Javier’s flanks, letting him adjust for only a moment before he pulled out until just the head was left inside and slammed back inside.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck...” Javier moaned, his back arching.

“Aww, you’re alright,” Joel smirked. He hovered over Javier’s body, nearly covering him entirely with how much bulk there was. He curled an arm over Javier’s right shoulder and gripped onto the younger man’s left pec to press Javier’s back into his chest. He kissed along Javier’s shoulder and up his neck until he nibbled on Javi’s earlobe, moaning lowly as the younger man clenched around his shaft. “Y’gonna be good? Gonna let me fuck ya?”

“Sí, coño– Please, Joel,” Javier whined, resting his head on Joel’s shoulder and panting into the open air. “Por favor damelo.”

So Joel did. Before either of them knew it, Joel was fucking into Javier in earnest, his hips slapping against Javier’s ass obscenely. Javier was making the neediest little sounds, chanting Joel’s name like a prayer. Javier’s cock was hard as a rock and lewdly slapping against his skin with every one of Joel’s harsh thrusts.

Joel hid his face in Javier’s neck, panting hotly against the younger man’s already damp skin. With his right arm already wrapped around Javier’s torso, he gripped at Javier’s hip with his left hand, fingers digging into the (surprisingly) soft skin. Javier didn’t have a whole lot of fat on his body, but there was enough to ripple every time Joel jackhammered into him.

“F-fuck,” he gulped, lips parted and eyes half lidded. The pressure was building low in his abdomen. He knew he was close. “J-Joel, I’m–” His mouth was as dry as the desert. “I’m gonna come, I–”

Joel growled. Literally. He bit Javier’s cheek and growled. “Not yet. Jus’ a li’l longer,” he panted. He moved his hand from Javier’s pec to his throat, and carefully, expertly, squeezed the sides. They’d talked about doing this with Max and both had consented to it. They knew how to do it right.

Slowly, as Javier’s air supply was marginally cut off, a wide smile grew on his face. His eyes shut and he was smiling, biting his lip. He felt so fucking good. He wanted to do this again and this time wasn’t even over yet.

Joel must have noticed because he chuckled next to Javier’s ear, hips never letting up once. “Yeah? Feel good, sweetheart?”

Javier nodded as much as he could, nails digging into the shitty couch and pulling hard.

“Good boy,” Joel rumbled, slowing down his hips, but not letting up on how hard he was thrusting. Javier’s breath hitched with every one of Joel’s slow, measured thrusts. Joel’s hand slid from Javier’s hip down to curl around the younger man’s cock. It was like someone had poured ice cold water over Javier’s head, because the pressure was just what he’d needed.

“S-sí, sí, please, p-please,” Javier gasped, a tear falling from his eye.

“Fuck, look at ya,” Joel marveled, slowly stroking Javier’s cock teasingly. “Pretty as a god damn picture, sweetheart.”

Javier opened his eyes as wide as he could and tried looking at Joel for the first time since he was on his knees. When their eyes locked, Javier could have sworn that there was a different man behind Joel’s baby browns. Perhaps that was the real Joel, and not whoever was on camera. Not whoever had been avoiding him for the better part of two years. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

“Want ya t’come for me,” Joel breathed hotly against his face. Javier shivered all over and nodded as much as he could with Joel’s bear paw of a hand around his throat. “Can ya do that, sweetheart? Come for me.”

Javier grunted as Joel picked up the pace of his hips again, but this time with his other hand tightly gripped around his shaft. Joel teased the head with his thumb just as he slammed directly into Javier’s prostate over and over.

Javier cried weakly, one more tear falling from his eye, and came hard. Thick, creamy spurts of cum painted the set’s couch as Javier trembled with his release.

Joel held him close, their sweaty bodies sticking together as Joel thrust one, two, three more times and followed Javier over the edge. He came with a low roar buried into Javier’s neck and cock twitching violently in Javier’s ass.

The set was dead silent save for Joel and Javier’s heavy breathing. Max kept the camera rolling, stunned into silence for once. 

Javier smiled to himself, eyes shut in bliss, and head resting on Joel’s shoulder. He clenched around Joel’s sensitive cock in little pulses. “Fuck me,” he croaked, voice wrecked.

Joel grunted at the overstimulation and gently held Javier’s hips as he slowly pulled out. Javier leaned forward against the back of the couch and pushed his ass out so the camera (and their audience) could see the thick cum trailing down his thighs. Joel’s hands rubbed Javier’s skin appreciatively at the sight, his cock giving one last valiant twitch.

“C-cut,” Max’s voice cracked, making him clear his throat. “Cut.”

In the corner, Dieter trembled and moaned weakly into Din’s neck as he came, Din’s thick fingers curled around his cock. 

Javier turned his head back to look at Joel with a satisfied smile on his face. “Mind gettin’ me a towel, guapo?”

Joel’s cheeks flushed, completely out of character again. “‘Course,” he mumbled, slowly standing to ask one of the assistants for a towel.

“Jesus Christ, boys,” Max chuckled.

Javier hummed in agreement.

“That was… That was somethin’ else, Jav,'' Steve said, impressed.

They were both outside, having their usual post-shoot cigarette together. No matter if they’d done a scene together or separately, they always kept up the tradition. This time, though, Javier thought he’d need several cigarettes. And a bath.

“Thank you,” Javier grinned, feeling lighter and more satisfied than he had in weeks. He could swear that the crick in his neck he’d woken up with was completely gone. Maybe there was some truth to Silva’s back pain disappearing after certain sessions.

“S’pose ya don’t gotta tell me, since I saw it myself, but was it like you thought it’d be?” Steve chuckled.

Javier snorted in response, taking a long drag off his cigarette. “And then some.”

Din smiled gently down at Dieter, giving him a slow, soft kiss. “I’ll see you tonight?” 

Dieter smiled wide and nodded giddily, getting on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Din’s neck one more time to give him another kiss. Joel could swear he saw hearts in his eyes. 

Once Dieter came back over to Joel, he had a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry, just had to say goodbye.”

Joel smiled softly. “Don’ worry yourself over it. Y’all are cute together.”

“You think?” Dieter beamed. “We had a scene the other day and we just haven’t stopped texting, and– Oh my god, this isn’t about me right now, I’m sorry.”

Joel chuckled and followed Dieter into the hallway so the cleaning crew could get to work. Dieter scratched at his beard as he looked at Joel: he seemed lighter, with a healthy glow radiating off of him.

“Well?”

Joel cleared his throat and dug his hands into his pockets, shrugging a little. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, old man! That was fucking hot! I came so hard!”

Joel laughed, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Thank you.”

“So? You gonna ask him out? Or at least apologize for earlier?”

“Yeah, I will. And uh… Yeah, I plan to,” Joel sighed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Don’t exactly know how I’m gonna do that, though…”

“Well, you better think of something quick!” Dieter whispered, pointing towards the end of the hall as Javier rounded the corner with Steve.

“Shit,” Joel whispered to himself. Dieter gave him a wink and thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction. 

Javier had his regular clothes on again, and Joel couldn’t take his eyes off him, enamored with how well they fit him. He may have just been inside the man, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“Hey, Joel,” Javier smiled awkwardly. He still wasn’t sure where they stood outside of working together, so he tried to keep it as casual as possible.

“H-hey, Javier,” Joel said hoarsely. He cleared his throat again.

“Y’know, you’re the only one that doesn’t call me Javi,” he said softly.

“Oh,” Joel furrowed his brow. “‘M sorry. My mama always taught me an’ my baby brother it was more polite that way.”

“You have a baby brother?” Javier smiled.

“Uh…” Joel gulped. “Y-yeah. Tommy.”

Javier hummed in response, an amused look crossing his features. He’s slowly figuring Joel out, he thinks. “He just as handsome as you? Bet he is,” he flirted.

The tips of Joel’s ears went pink and he laughed around an awkward cough. “Nah. Don’ cut his hair enough to be respectable.”

“Mm, more to pull then,” Javier smirked.

Joel made a face, not wanting to think of his brother like that. “L-listen, uh. ’m sorry ‘bout earlier. Wasn’t right talkin’ to ya like that,” he mumbled, unable to look Javier in the eye just yet.

Every bit of tension Javier felt left his body in an instant. “Thank you. I appreciate that, Joel.”

Joel nodded, a shy smile on his face. “‘S good,” he said awkwardly.

They were quiet for a few moments before Javier pulled out his pack of cigarettes, sticking one between his lips. “Well, you built up quite the appetite in me, so I’m gonna go–”

“Do you wanna go out sometime?” Joel blurted out. “N-now, maybe?”

Javier blinked a few times as a smile grew on his lips. “You’re asking me out? Gotta be honest, I thought you hated me, Joel.”

Joel snapped his eyes up at that, confusion all over his face. “What? No! I–” He sighed. “‘M no good at this,” he grumbled to himself. “’m sorry. Again.”

Javier chuckled and took the cigarette out of his mouth. “‘s alright. I’d love to.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiled, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. 

“Yeah, guapo. You already got dessert, but dinner sounds great.”

[heaartzzforcupidzz]

Do Dogday x reader!Pregnant x Catnap

“it’s gonna happen.”

Relationship(s): Catnap x pregnant!bat!reader x Dogday 🔞

Warning(s): slight smut, a little angst

Catnap had just finished painting your insides white with his scorching hot seed. this was your guys eighth night in a row trying to get pregnant in the last 2 months. They both took turns cumming inside you every night, even with the slightest hope of you getting pregnant. no matter what though, you just wouldn’t take their pups - kittens seeds.

you guys sat in the doctors office for the ninth time that month. the higher ups allowed you guys to try for kids because they knew how the ratings would go up. in the show, that had you all in some type of love triangle. this would help them decide who you end up with in the show by who’s baby it comes out to be. this would also help with their ‘experiments’ to see exactly what you guys can reproduce and what the results would look like. sick, I know but as long as you guys had that baby, right?

your heart broke at the doctors next words. you were expecting it of course but.. it still hurt to hear. “I’m sorry, you’re not pregnant.” your doctor said as she x-rayed your stomach. Catnap gritted his teeth and walked out the office, it hurt that you weren’t taking like you were supposed to. I mean what’s the point of having the organs if you weren’t putting them to use? kinda useless if you ask me. Dogday rested his paw at the small of your back and looked down at you, his gaze soft. always soft when he looked at you.

“it’s gonna happen. I just know it, Angel.”

you nodded softly as you couldn’t stop the hiccup that escaped. the tears falling way faster then you hoped. Dogday was quick to hold you and kiss the tip of your head, whispering positive affirmations. you weren’t.. infertile, you just knew you weren’t! you guys walked out the office together, Dogday carrying you to his home.

you guys laid in bed. Catnap was god knows where with god knows who. you didn’t blame him, who would want to be with someone as infertile as you? you laid against Dogday as softly snored. you had an idea and quickly got ontop of him, whispering his name. he perked his eyes open. a slight glow illuminated around the irises. he let out a low gruff as he woke to you “..hm? yeah, Angel?” he quickly blushed as he saw you ontop of him, his face darker orange. he quickly sat up as he watched you slide your top off and onto the floor, showing your tits.

you rode Dogday like a champ. the slick skin on skin sounds so erotic as he sucked on your perky nipples. you whimpered as his cock bullied it’s way in and out of your tight fuck hole. the mush inside you locked onto his cock like a vice. Dogday couldn’t help but cry, he felt humiliated. he’d have cum inside you around four times and you still hadn’t stopped. causing him to cry as his dick couldn’t handle this much all at once. his hands clamped onto your waist as he quickly switched your positions, starting to fuck into you, harshly. “oh, your tight lil’ pussy’ feels so good, mama.” you tried to stop it but you squirted all over his sheets, between his cock and his words, you crumbled like a cookie.

here you guys were again in the doctors office. Catnap had came this time. He wanted to know if anything had changed, anything at all. your doctor came in, she looked at you three and gave a pitiful smile, knowing the results before even doing the test. your doctor, Rose, had began the test. she felt around your tummy and her eyes went wide abit. she didn’t get too excited though as she brought her x-ray over and put it to your stomach. a shriek.

“YOU GUYS ARE PREGNANT!”

you couldn’t help the tears that flowed. not sad ones but happy ones. you were finally fucking pregnant. Catnap stood there in disbelief. why were you finally pregnant? after 2, almost 3 months? he looked at you and Dogday and decided to ask later. for now, he would join the hug pile and kiss you.

you guys were standing around in a circle. you had given birth 9 months ago. your baby on your hip. his fur was a light purple and he was dog with little wings. I guess both their sperms took after all, huh? you chuckled as you watched Dogday and Catnap show their spawn the play care even though he had seen it ever since he was born. they just were really excited parents.

A/N: probably the pic of the baby I’ll be using for my pregnancy stories. just imagine him with wings and smaller. also how do we feel about Dogday calling us mama in the heat of the moment? abit short I know, didn’t have much idea on this one 😭. the anon that requested this though feel free to let me know if you want another part or anything.

[drewstarkeyluvbot]

Let the light in

Rafe Cameron x ex-best friend pogue!reader

Summary: After Rafe drunkenly opens up his bare soul to you for the second time in your life, you're left bewildered and confused. You want to run away before he can pull you back in but perhaps a connection so profound is destined to be revived , in more ways than one.

warnings: angst , cursing , sexual content!

word count: 5k

part one , part two

~

The only evidence that indicated his presence was the empty glass of water on the coffee table and the - now dry - piece of cloth on the ground beside the worn-out couch. Rafe was gone the morning after.

He didn't reply to your last statement that night. You remember him staring at you blankly, your words slashing open another hole in his heart. So much blood, there's so much blood. Both of your wounds keep ripping open and you're both desperately trying to patch them up. Your efforts are in vain, the history behind them is too deep.

Why did he leave? Did he regret it? Did he even remember anything? Did he wake up , and was horrified at the sight of his surroundings, of your house? Did he know he opened his heart again, just like the time he told you he was in love with you?

Whatever his reasoning was, it was adequate to urge him to disappear from your house without a single word. But he did always have a habit of leaving, didn't he? Stop thinking he's who he used to be, stop thinking he's still your childhood friend , stop thinking he's still your first love.

I wish I could go back to the start.

You wanted to elbow him, slap him across the face and scream at him for a further explanation. He wishes he could go back to the start?. You wish there was no start at all ;  you want to rip your hair out and scream at your small, puffy-  cheeked five year old self to run when she sees that adorable, blue eyed boy approaching her at the playground. You want to warn her, caress her hair and tell her what a horrible person he is , tell her he's the fucking boogeyman ; anything to keep her away from the inevitable pain.

You can't.

You suppose the pain won't ever stop , you had growing accustomed to it before he reappeared. Pain is okay, it's to be expected when it stems from something that used to be so profound. You've sobbed yourself to sleep countless of times, until your eyes were itchy and red and your throat felt raw ; it felt really good, crying about him. Like unleashing your emotions inside the four walls of your cramped room, where they bounced off them and stayed inside.

That's what needs to happen. You can sob and cry and scream as much as your body allows you to ; you're entitled to. But you shouldn't be lead by pain.

So , as you're crying about Rafe Cameron under your warm, fluffy blanket and with the enchanting glow of the moon cascading over your body through your sketchy blinds , you understand that blotchy tears and sore throats won't get you anywhere. You're not okay - at the moment - but you will be, someday.

You're going to keep living until that moment arrives. Until the sight of him makes your lips tight and taut instead of wobbly, until he stops appearing in your dreams like an unachievable target, until he merely becomes a ghost of your past instead of a monster of your present.

Until then, salty tears and rapid headaches are your only resolution.

~

Since you were a child, you've always found getaways in order to escape the malicious feeling of pure pain. Crying and screaming assisted you in facing your pain, in confronting it. Nevertheless, at times you don't want to turn into a sobbing mess , you want not to think about it at all.

You've always loved the sea.

The sound of your feet digging into the sand and the soft splashing sound of the waves hitting the shore prevails over your soul crashing thoughts as you continue to increase the distance between you and your house. The beach is quiet and tranquil -mostly- a couple of people here and there, but the amount diminishing the further you find yourself walking.

Walking. Which is exactly what you planned to do until - you don't know - got lost, or until someone found you and dragged you away. You didn't plan to stop, not for anything, not for anyone.

You stare at the point where the sky meets the sea, the sun casting a warm, orange hue over the clear waters. You wished to be as beautiful and free as the ocean one day.

You love silence. You love feeling the wind slipping through your hair, the salt sticking to your skin and the sun turning your cheeks a pretty shade of rose. It's a feeling almost equivalent to the comfort a loved one can provide you with , the difference being that this feeling won't ever make you hurt.

The sun has fully set, shielding itself between the mountains. You're walking back home, silently cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket with you ; the breeze making you grit your teeth and causing goosebumps on your skin.

You hear the loud roar of a motorcycle emerging from the distance, and you despise yourself for immediately having thoughts about a certain person when the sound reaches your ears. It's the outer banks, nearly everyone has a motorcycle. Nevertheless, luck was never really on your side.

Not tonight at least.

You want to scream at the top of your lungs when you hear the vehicle slowing down, before it comes to an abrupt stop right next to your figure. You gnaw on your bottom lip as you turn to look at him; he's slowly removing his helmet, and you almost wish the face that's hiding under was a stranger. But you suppose he's a stranger anyway.

You meet icy blue eyes, silence ensues. Cold, empty, bloody silence.

You could run, curse him out, slap him across the face with as much power as you can hold. Why are you frozen?

"It's late." The silence is broken by his deep voice ; you can hear it ever so slightly breaking out, "You shouldn't be walking alone."

Your mouth parts as you stare at him, "I'm fine." Your voice is quiet, the wind roaring louder. You stare at the way his Adam's apple bops as he thinks of a reply.

"What are you doing out here?" You hate that you your mind has fooled you to believe there's a hint of concern hidden in his tone. He doesn't care, he doesn't care, he doesn't care.

You stare at him for a moment, mindlessly. You open your mouth, "You left." You spit the combination of words out. You're not even sure if your statement hints towards the night that occured recently, or him leaving your life two years ago. You don't even bother to elaborate, whatever conclusion he draws will have the exact same outcome.

You can immediately tell your words startle him from the way the muscles in his jaw flex and tense. He sighs, scratching his jaw slowly "I didn't want to wake you up."

So,he picked the first version.

His words ring through your ears , your expression turning into something a lot more bitter. You immediately shake your head ; your feet are already making the first steps back to your path , "Goodnight, Rafe."

You feel a strong hand wrapping around your wrist, your body coming to an abrupt stop as the sensation of his touch courses throughout your entire body. You want to scream as loud as you can.

You don't turn your body around, he doesn't lessen his hold, none of you speak for sometime; probably filtering the gravity of your situation, from both sides of the story.

"I meant it." His words are spoken in a whisper, "All of it, every single word, I meant all of it."

Your throat instantly clogs up and your chest tightens as the ambiguous words sink in. I meant all of it. What did he mean? What is he referring to? The night he left you? The night of the thunderstorm? The night he told you he was in love with you? The night he came to your house drunk after years?

Rafe has said so many different things, and you could him to ask to elaborate, to be more specific on whether he still loves you the way he did or he despises your guts like he's supposed to.

You think you're allowed to be selfish for once in your life, you're not obliged to be Rafe Cameron's emotional punchbag, not when you're still frozen , not when you're still stuck at the place where he left you.

"Goodnight, Rafe." You repeat quietly, your hand slowly slipping out of his hold as you walk away.

He doesn't follow you, and - for the first time - you're glad he doesn't.

~

Your teeth forcefully grit together as your hand gently rests itself on the area between his shoulder blades ; groans spill from his lips like a robust waterfall as he stuffs his face inside your toilet bowl, his body limp and frozen on your cold tiles.

Your hand gently caresses his broad back, your legs tucked under you and your bottom lip drawn between your teeth. "You're okay, it's okay." You whisper words of comfort as Rafe empties his whole stomach inside the bowl, your other hand moving to pull his curtain bangs away from his eyes.

He hoarsely coughs out the last drops  , breathing heavily as he moves his head away and lazily rests it on the toilet seat. You immediately scrunch up your nose at the sight, before gently moving your hands to cradle his head. "Come on." You whisper gently, moving his head right side up.

Groans spill from his lips at the change of position , lazy blinks directed at your face. You sigh quietly as you lift up the wet cloth you were holding and begin softly dapping at his mouth to clean him up.

Rafe hums contently, instantly leaning into your touch. You ignore the feeling of adoration bubbling in your chest at his sweet face, instead pulling the cloth away. "I can't lift you up,can you stand?" You whisper softly, sliding your fingers through his hair. Rafe mumbles a short response, nodding his head as he grips the marble of the toilet bowl to stand up. His legs are inevitably wobbling, and you  snake an arm around his waist to assist in steading him.

When he's stable, you slowly begin walking him towards your bedroom, softly kicking the door open with your foot.  You stumble a few times, barely managing to not tumble to the ground before you reach the bed. You slowly lay his broad body atop it, he lands with a soft hum.

You let out a soft sigh, before sitting right next to him. His eyes are closed, chest heaving up and down peacefully. You grab another wet cloth, scooting closer to him. You softly run the cloth down his face, wiping the sweat away carefully and offering him a sense of refreshment.

"Mhm," soft hums of pleasure leave his lips, his eyelids softly dropping open. The sides of his mouth quirk up in a soft smile. "You're so pretty."

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip to conceal your small smile; an odd tightening sensation occuring in your stomach at his words. "Sit up." You reply instead, bending forward to drop the cloth on the bedside table and grab the filled glass of water.

He groans quietly, but eventually obeys and slowly sit up. You hand him the glass carefully , his hand slightly shaky as he grips it. You watch as he downs it, grimacing slightly but knowing you'll possibly scream at him if he denies it.

You place the now empty glass back on the bedside table; he stares at you, giddily. You softly cradle the back of his head as you push him to lay back down on your fluffy pillow.

"No-" he suddenly speaks up, making your eyebrows immediately furrow at his words. "No?" You inquiry, utterly bewildered. He immediately shakes his head, groaning at his own action from the dizziness before he carelessly plops his head on your lap.

Your breath hitches at the action; you stare for a moment, dumbfounded and bewildered before he speaks up. "Better." He mumbles, tilting his body so his face is looking up at you. You stare down at him, at his silly expression that's stretched into a bright grin. "You're so pretty." He repeats slowly.

You shake your head, before moving your hand and tamely running it through his soft locks. He hums quietly, tilting his face to the side and nuzzling his nose against your hand. Your heart rapidly fills with warmth at the sweet sight, the side of your mouth quirking up.

"You need to stop drinking so much, I'm worried about you." You whisper softly, still playing with the mess on his head. "Do you promise me, Rafe?"

His pretty eyes gaze into yours , the pale colour reminding you of the tranquility that can only be found in the deep, blue waters. You've always loved the sea.

Instead of a reply to your question, Rafe merely smiles lazily. He lifts his hand, thumb softly grazing your pouty, plush bottom lip. "I'm so in love with you, you're the only one who cares."

I'm so in love with you , you're the only one who cares .

I'm so in love with you , you're the only one who cares .

I'm so in love with you , you're the only one who cares .

You wake up with a strangled gasp , your chest heaving up and down and your hair clinging to your forehead from the sweat that had gradually accumulated there. Your heart is beating inside your ears, as you filter your surroundings.

It is not the first time you had dreamt of that night,nor would it be the last. Alas, it usually drifted from what had actually occurred; your dreams are rarely accurate, anyway.

This time, every small and insignificant detail was so chillingly on point that you felt as if you were reliving the memory; that you were reliving that night, that you were reliving the moment he told you how he felt.

It's raining again; the thunder roaring in the distance and the raindrops rapidly falling against your living room windows. You had accidentally fallen asleep on your couch, a trashy show playing on your TV.  Your nails dig into your palms as you bring them to your eyes, elbows resting on your knees as you groan. Will you ever be okay?

The sound of the thunderstorm is excessively loud, yet not loud enough to drown out the sound of rapid knocks on your wooden door. Your eyebrows instantly scrunch together, before a wave of realization washes over you. The skies are dark and the rain is pouring, there's only one person that would ever ignore that. Your feet mindlessly lead you to the door.

When you unlock the door a wave of rain hits you, making you huff. You meet icy blue eyes under wet curtain bangs; you immediately grab his hand to pull him Inside,not postponing it or filtering your action.

No words are spoken as you hurry towards the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel and scurrying back towards the living room. You throw it to him, irritation bubbling inside your veins.

He catches it immediately, leaning forward to dry his wet hair. You stare at him, trying to comprehend the fact that Rafe Cameron is currently standing in the middle of your living room, drying himself with your towel and he doesn't look drunk.

"What are you doing here, rafe?" You whisper,a peculiar feeling of anger rising inside your chest. "I doubt you randomly decided to drive through the south side of the island during a fucking thunderstorm."

He immediately freezes at your words, discerning the bitterness behind them. He lets out a soft sigh as he drops the wet towel on the couch, lifting his gaze to meet your eyes. He breathes through his nose, "I wasn't." He speaks up, "I wanted to see you."

Your nose scrunches up, teeth digging into your bottom lip until you can practically taste blood. "Are you drunk again?" You can't help but spit out the first sentence that comes to mind.

Rafe breaths out slowly, "I'm not drunk, Y/n." Your arms come around to loosely hug your waist as his words sink in. You stare at him for a short moment, before letting out another sigh. "Why are here then?"

He stares at you, desperately attempting to meet your gaze. Your eyes remain fixed on the ground by his feet. He sighs. "My thoughts are drowning me."

Your eyes narrow at the ground, before you lift them up. "Your thoughts are drowning you?" Your repeat his own words back to him, quietly.

His nostrils slightly flare before he nods, "They are." He breaths out, "I've tried to escape them all these years, and I was doing fine-  " he takes a deep breath, "Before you showed up at my front door."

You don't reply, but you can feel the way your manicured nails dig into your bicep.  He immediately sighs, shaking his head. "Please say something." his voice is nothing but a weak whisper, it makes your chest ache.

You breathe out slowly, "What do you want me to say, Rafe?"

He immediately shakes his head in response, "Anything." He breaths out, "Scream at me, curse me out, throw a fucking book at my head -" his voice croaks , "Just, please - don't be as silent as you are in my dreams."

Your breath hitches at his words, the dream you had before he showed up practically taunting you in your head. He had dreams about you?

"I don't want to do that anymore." You croak out a reply quietly, "I don't want to hurt you anymore, it's pointless - "

"But I deserve it!" He instantly interferes , stepping a slight bit closer to you. "I deserve your anger, I deserve every bit of it." He whispers, his eyes pleading in the gloomy room. "I'm a horrible person, y/n."

You immediately shake your head, your arms falling back to your sides, "Rafe, you don't have to say -"

"I regret everything." He interferes again before you can finish your sentence, "Do you know how many nights I've spent dreaming of your face the night I told you to leave me alone?  " He whispers, and you desperately want to scream.

"Rafe - " you whisper breathlessesly , if only he knew how many times you've dreamt of the same night.

"I always tried to do everything right by - by him."  When Rafe speaks those words, he looks exactly like the small child he once was, the one that was craving his father's love.

Because you instantly know what he means , who he's referring to. You knew from the moment he let you go that his father had played a big part in it , that he had pulled certain strings. Rafe was a child that needed love, the same child that is still in him and begging to be healed.

You can feel your anger diminishing little by little , until all you can feel is remorse. You don't speak yet, he continues .

"He told me - he told me that I have  responsibilities as his son." He whispers ,  " - and that I've reached the age where I should start owning up to them. " He adds, fingers anxiously running through his messy hair. "Our image was one of them."

You don't interfere, instantly understanding that he's spilling out everything he has bottled up for god knows how long. He takes a deep breath ;  his hands coming up to rub his eyes fiercely, "this is so stupid - it's so fucking stupid." He whispers , and your heart immediately cracks. "He - he told me that being seen with people like you shows my value." You could barely decipher his glassy eyes in the gloominess of the night, "and he told me that's not what we - as a family - stand for."

The distance between you has diminished as your legs slowly move towards his broken frame. His body is slightly hunched over, his hands finding their way back to his eyes. "I'm so sorry, y/n."  his voice is quiet, "I'm so sorry, so sorry."

You can't physically see the tears pouring from his eyes , but the croaking of his voice serves as an indication, a broken indication. This is the moment that you have been eagerly waiting for years. Rafe Cameron is in a vulnerable position, he's driven by pain; the most malicious feeling. You finally have the upper hand, you can exploit the situation, you can make him drop to his fucking knees and beg till his throat goes raw and his knees start bleeding. You can cause him the pain you so desperately wish you could cause him since that horrible night.

You can do it  - god - you should do it.

You take a single step before your hands gently grip his wrists, moving them away from his puffy eyes. In the next second your arms gently snake themselves around his neck, face burying itself into the crook of his neck . He freezes for a mere second before his own arms tightly wrap around your waist, bringing your bodies together.

It has been years since Rafe Cameron cried in your arms. Yet, as you feel the tears falling against your hair and you shake as his body rakes with sobs ; you suppose nothing really changed. He's still the same broken boy that yearns for comfort and you're still the same loving girl that will provide him it. Always.

"It's okay, Rafe." You whisper comfortingly, one hand coming up and raking through his messy hair. "It's okay,I understand." Another sob is given as a reply, you feel him shake his head against your hair.

"You're an angel."  He whispers against the top of your head, his hand slowly running up and down your back in a comforting manner. "The sweetest angel."

Your breath hitches against his throat, and you slowly move your head back to meet his eyes. Pain, there's so much of it. Your hands are shaking as they move to his cheeks, ever so slightly grazing them to wipe away the tears. He immediately leans into your touch like a starving cat, his eyelids falling closed.

You're an angel.

"I meant it." Your body is taken back to that night on the beach, when he uttered those same words rather ambiguously. You remember being desperate for an elaboration but selfishly not asking for one. You suppose you'll receive it today.

His eyes are boring into yours now, the prettiest shade of blue; even when they're puffy and broken.  "I knew exactly what I was saying when I told you I was in love with you." Your heart practically jumps out of your chest at the sound of his words, mouth parting.

"I know it, because I've never felt it for anyone else, nor will I ever feel it." He continues, lowering his face. " My heart became yours the moment you hurt your knee at the playground." Your eyes sting at the sweet memory of your first encounter.

Rafe doesn't stop there, instead bringing a hand to push a strand of hair away from your face as he continues. "I searched for you in everyone else,do you know that?" You're staring at him, not able to form a single fucking word.

Rafe smiles rather sadly, "That girl you saw me at the party with?" He whispers softly, "I know you saw me, my chest tightened the moment our eyes met." You gnaw on your bottom lip at the bitter memory.

"She had your eyes, hair and almost had your smile." He whispers, before shaking his head "Almost ." He repeats, gaze falling to your plush lips . "I couldn't look into her eyes though, that would only remind me that she wasn't you."

Your eyes sting further at that, and you cannot comprehend the amount of emotional information you were given. Because what is actually happening? You immediately shake your head, not knowing what to do or how to act.

"I would trade the touch of a million women if it meant I could look into your eyes everyday." Your heart swarms with warmth at the sweet words, and you genuinely want to scream.

"Rafe." You finally find the strength within you to speak up. "Do you understand what you're saying?"

He gazes into your beautiful eyes for a moment, his hand continuing to caress your back. "I'm saying what I should have said years ago." He whispers softly, "What I should have said before letting you walk out of my life like you weren't the best thing to ever happen to me."

Your breath hitches again, fanning his pouty lips due to the close proximity. He slowly runs his fingers through your hair, "If you tell me to fuck off , to never speak to you again, I'll completely understand." He elaborates after a beat of silence. "I just - I see you  in my mind all the time and I- I can't even think properly when I know you hate the person I've become." He whispers , eyes never leaving yours.

Silence ensues.

"Please,say something." His tone is nothing but yearning and pleading. "Please."

Instead of providing him with a verbal response, you find yourself balancing on your tippy toes as you gently place your lips on top of his, knocking the air out of his own lungs. The hand that was caressing your back falters for a moment , before it tightly wraps around your waist as the other moves to cradle your jaw. When Rafe starts moving his lips against yours, your mind turns hazy and foggy.

Your first kiss is languid and slow ; your hands are gently running through his locks as he softly grips your hips. You suppose you should have said something more instead of silencing him with your mouth. You also suppose that actions speak louder than words.

"Tell me this is real." He whispers against your lips, his nose slowly nuzzling against yours. The corners of your mouth lift immediately, receiving one in return when he feels it against his own.  "Fully healing is going to take time." You whisper softly, your lips grazing his as you talk. "But this is real."

Rafe's heart immediately swarms with warmth at your words ; they're almost like a bandage, slowly covering each and every cut that was causing his heart to bleed. The ice around his eyes gradually melts away, because the light of his life has returned.

He tilts your chin up, his face brightening up after what feels like forever. "We'll heal eachother." He whispers gently, before reconnecting your lips.

Time seems to slow down after that, your hands are gently tugging at his hair as he languidly slips his tongue into your mouth. Your breath hitches as he slides it against yours, your tummy blossoming with newborn butterflies.

You don't know how much time has passed in eachother's mouths before you're pulling away and wrapping your hand around his wrist. His eyebrows scrunch in confusion; the feeling immediately washes away when you begin walking him towards the direction of your bedroom. He remembers where it is, this house used to be his own.

His body covers yours like a blanket the moment you lay yourself on your soft mattress; his lips immediately search yours again as your hands slide across his broad shoulders. He pulls away after a moment, only to pepper your face with small kisses. You let out a soft giggle as he showers you with adoration, his lips quirking up at the beautiful sound.

"You're gorgeous." He whispers against your jaw before his mouth moves lower , nose snuggling against your bare neck. When he begins sucking and nibbling, you can do nothing but moan at the sweet sensation, hand slowly caressing the back of his head.

"You sound so sweet." Your pajama shirt has been discarded to the floor, his lips moving over your breasts languidly. He closes his mouth around a nipple, softly sucking on it and causing small whimpers to fall from your lips. "Oh-"

He smiles softly, before his lips slowly trail lower. He plants soft kisses on your stomach as he makes his way down, "My pretty girl." He hums softly, moving his fingers to hook on the edge of your shorts. "Lift your hips."

You immediately obey, assisting him in removing your pajama shorts. You expected to feel embarrassed under his gaze, but you feel nothing short of appreciation. He smiles at you, before moving back between your legs.

Both of his hands move to grip each thigh, his face moving forward only to plant a soft kiss against your lace covered core. A gasp instantly falls from your parted lips at the sensation, before you feel his fingers tracing the edge of your white panties. He looks up at you instantly, "Can I?"

Your reply is in the form of a nod and before you know it , your panties are pulled down your legs and your thighs are moved to his shoulders. The first lick is slow and tentative, your mouth dropping open on a moan.

He hums in pure appreciation as his hands grip the warm flesh of your thighs, his tongue moving in circles against your clit. He moans against you, his movements speeding up. "Rafe - oh-!" You can merely moan, back arching off the bed prettily.

"Sweet thing." He whispers against your heat, "My sweet girl, my girl." His words are enough to make you see stars, thighs clenching around his head. He groans at the sensation , combined with the feeling of your hands gripping his roots tightly to ground yourself.

It doesn't take you a long before you feel the tightening sensation in your lower tummy, and your moans only grow more desperate. It's incredible that Rafe senses your desperation immediately, keeping up his movements but accompanying them with his deep voice. "Come for me ,baby, please."

When the feeling washes over you, your toes curl on his shoulders and your mouth chokes out a scream of his name. He receives all of it with a hum, hand softly caressing your thigh as he places wet kisses up to your mouth.

"You're so perfect, taste so perfect." He whispers lovingly , his messy lips finding yours yet again . You whimper against his mouth, teeth biting his bottom lip desperately.

You're too hazy from your orgasm to comprehend anything as you reach for your bedside table, a condom package secured in your palm. His clothes are on the floor in what feels like seconds , and your naked skin is now plastered together. Your legs are tightly wrapped around his waist as he whispers questions of reassurance against your pretty lips.

"I want you, Rafe." Your sweet voice is enough to guide his hips forward , both of you gasping in response. His blue eyes stay locked on yours the entire time your bodies are moving, your mouth agape on a gasp as he presses soft kisses against your face.

"I love you" you whisper quietly after a while, your nails scratching down his toned back eagerly. He hisses at the sensation , hips bucking forward abruptly. When your words register , his heart blooms with adoration. He accelerates the movement of his hips ; his lips moving to taste yours again. "I love you." He whispers back to you, "I love you." He repeats, both of your moans getting louder as you get closer to the brink of sweet relief. "I love you, angel -" both of you gasp, before his body stills.

And as you're breathing inside each other's mouths, sharing words of love and reassurance, you realize that you're both a mess, a beautiful mess of utter chaos.

But you found your way back to eachother; whatever the implications might be , you're willing to face them together. Always.

Always and forever.

~

[raysrays]

Fatal Attraction Chapter Four (NSFW)

18+ MDNI‼️

CW for the entire story: Breeding, Size Difference, Size Kink, Jealousy, Scent Marking, Age Difference, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Behavior, Angst, Twisted, Creampie, Angry Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Biting, Master/Pet, Light Dom/sub, Violence, Knotting.

Content disclaimer: This story is inspired by the amazing artist @PammyJammy117 on Twitter/X. I in absolutely no way own or claim the idea of the "Cryptid Rengoku" character. Please give credit to the original artist who inspired the story.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three,

Y/N Perspective.

The walk home was quiet, filled only with the sounds of the woods and the clicking noises he made. I knew where he was taking me: that den. Despite the haze that clouded my mind when I woke up this morning, I managed to recall certain details I noticed while trying to quietly escape.

It was just as you would expect from a cryptid living deep in the woods. The den was secluded, hidden by a tree line, and resembled an ominous cave. It appeared cold and empty, nothing that would stand out if you happened to notice it.

The inside told a different story. It was warm, with the floor lined with coarse furs and wool from other animals. It remained dark for the most part unless a fire was lit or the sun managed to peek through. Towards the back was the “nest” he spoke of; he said he made it for me, for us.

It was exactly what it sounded like: a nest. It was large, with a base of sticks and wood, topped with furs that were different--much softer and plush to the touch. Truthfully, with some blankets, it could be the most comfortable place to be during the cold winter months.

I’ve also noticed that Kyojuro is quite comfortable himself. His fur is soft, and he radiates warmth like any fire. Sure, he’s a ruthless, psychotic monster, but at least he’s nice to sleep with.

It didn’t take long for us to reach our destination. Once we arrived, he led me straight to the nest, sitting me down inside it. Before I could say anything, I felt his tail wrap tightly around my waist, pulling me against him. He curled up around me, holding me close.

"I’m not going to run," I reassured him.

He scoffed, as if I'd just told a ridiculous joke.

"You really expect me to believe that after the stunt you pulled this morning?" His eyes narrowed at me.

"You don’t understand. It wasn’t what it looked like. I didn’t leave because I wanted to escape. I needed to leave because--"

"Tamayo." He growled her name as if she were the bane of his existence.

"You do not belong to this Tamayo woman. You belong to me." His tail tightened around my waist, starting to hurt.

"It’s not like that. She gives me a place to stay. She’s been extremely good to me."

"I also provide for you." His pointed ear twitched in annoyance.

"I will always provide for my mate. No matter what some human can do for you, I can do more!" He sat up straighter, his voice loud and confident.

I glanced over at the opening of the den. Through the vines, I could see the sky turning orange. It would be late soon.

While I’m completely aware I’m not much assistance to Tamayo as a whole, I can’t just abandon her. She has every right to throw me out and tell me to fend for myself, but she doesn’t. She gives me grace every time. I don’t know her well enough to call her a friend, but I can say she is a good person--a mentor with a passion for monster hunting.

I can’t just disappear.

I have to help her, find something, anything to aid her research. I owe it to her. A hundred times over.

I turn back to look at Kyojuro, his red eyes staring holes into me. Glowing red.

“You are not going anywhere,” he said sharply and to the point.

I could feel my body tense up. This was a cryptid’s influence--the influence of a mate.

Even if I wanted to sneak off now, my body wouldn’t let me, or it would make me sick until I came crawling back. If I wanted to make things right, I had to convince Kyojuro it was a good idea.

“Will you please, please just hear me out at least? Just let me explain.” I sounded pathetic, begging like a damn dog.

I could see his gaze soften slightly as he sat back to get a better look at me.

“Fine, I’ll let my mate explain why she needs to go gallivanting off to this woman so desperately.”

I thought for a moment about how to make him understand. I wasn't sure how well a cryptid could grasp human emotions, let alone human relationships.

To him, anyone who interacts with me seems like a threat, someone who could take me away. Of course, that isn't true, but it must be his animalistic instincts.

"Kyojuro, before I met you, I was living alone, just trying to get by on the streets of that village you saw."

I saw a slight shift in his gaze, a mix of confusion and maybe pity.

"My point in telling you this is because Tamayo was the one who helped me. She saw I was struggling and took me in, gave me a place to stay and food to eat. All she asked in return was my assistance."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, the clicking sounds starting up more intensely as I went on. The sob story wasn’t working. I needed a different approach.

"Without Tamayo, it's very possible I would never have met you, Kyojuro. It’s because of her that we found each other."

I saw a slight change in his demeanor; his tail loosened a bit.

"Tamayo isn’t a bad person, Kyojuro. She has helped me a lot, and I haven’t been able to do a single thing to return those favors."

I looked at him desperately.

"Please, I'll be your mate, I’ll come here every night, whenever I can, but please don’t make me never see her again.”

He looked conflicted, seemingly considering it for a moment, until his tail lifted me off the ground to look me in the eyes.

“Y/N, as my mate, you are to stay here. No exceptions. I marked you as mine, I claimed you as mine. And you agreed to it.” His face was so close to mine.

I couldn’t deny it. It was true. All of this, I agreed to it. I wanted to tell myself I did it out of fear, afraid of what would happen if I said no. But I knew that was a lie.

The hard truth is that I am attracted to him. I genuinely have feelings and a sexual attraction to this cryptid monster, one of the nine most dangerous in the region.

"I know, I know I agreed to be your mate. I still want to be. But can’t there be a way for you to meet me in the middle? After all her kindness and patience with me, I can’t let her think I took advantage of that and abandoned her.”

He hesitated, looking at me as if he needed to process my words.

“Please… mate, please let me make this right.”

His eyes immediately softened at my words. He set me down gently on the nest before hovering over me.

“Y/N L/N,” he growled my name in a way that sent shivers down my spine, his voice echoing and causing my heart to race.

“I will allow you to pay your debts that you feel you owe. I am not cruel.”

I could practically feel my body relax.

“However.”

I looked up at him.

“As I said, you belong to me. You are bound to me.” He growled as he leaned down closer and closer to me. “What I say goes. You will be allowed to see this Tamayo woman during the day and aid her in whatever it is she wishes to prove, but at night, you will be here with me, in our nest. Without exception.”

I took a deep breath. His demands would be difficult, but I had to make it work. This was the best compromise I could hope for with him.

"Yes, okay. I can do that," I agreed quickly.

He stared at me for a moment before slowly rising. He looked out and finally noticed the darkening sky.

"The sun is setting. You may return tonight. Blame your tardiness on 'your old friend' from the market," he scoffed.

I stood up, glancing at my tattered clothing. I wasn't sure how I would explain it this time, but I’d figure something out.

I felt his eyes burning into me, making me uncomfortable and a little hot and bothered.

His large hand grabbed my face firmly, his claws digging slightly into my cheeks.

"That man you were with in the market today. Stay away from him," he spoke lowly.

I knew cryptids were possessive, but I never realized they could get jealous. Oh, if only he knew how little Yushiro liked me.

I nodded to show I understood. He let go and took a step back, looking me over.

"Your visit will be brief. You will return here tonight, or I will drag you here myself." The threat was clear and immediate.

“Okay, I’ll return later tonight, you won’t have to come get me.” I reassure.

His intense gaze never faltered. Now that I know kyojuro has a human form he can change to at will, I wouldn’t put it past him to follow me around everywhere.

He gives me the approval to leave.

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

The walk back was just as annoying as I remembered, hiking out of the woods only to return the same night.

This sucked. I know I’m not in a position to complain, but I feel like he forgets I’m human. My body is sore and tired; all I want is sleep.

Once the house was in sight, I made my way in, passing a few of the other people Tamayo has recruited, until I spotted Yushiro.

He looked up and saw me. As soon as he looked me up and down, he gave me his usual look of judgment.

“What the hell happened to your clothes? And where have you been?” His tone was skeptical but with a hint of concern.

“I’m sorry, I was with my friend and…” I hesitated, unsure how to explain my torn clothes.

“…we decided to go for a walk in the woods while we talked. I accidentally tripped.” I gave a sheepish smile.

What a dumb lie.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at my clothes again.

“I’d say it’s impossible to mess up your clothes that badly from a trip, but knowing you, you’d find a way.” He scoffed.

Before he could walk away, I gently grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait, where is Tamayo? Is she in?”

Yushiro nodded.

“She’s in her study, probably settling in for the night. If you’re going to bother her, do it quickly.” He shrugged my hand off his shoulder.

Before I could say anything else, he was already halfway down the hall.

This shouldn’t take long. I just need to understand Tamayo’s plan and coordinate it with Kyojuro’s demands.

I stood in front of her study door and knocked lightly.

“Come in,” came her faint voice from behind the door.

When I entered, she was standing behind her desk, putting away some books. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze softening when she saw me.

“Ah, Y/N. How was the market with Yushiro? He said you ran into an old friend,” she said casually.

“It was fine. I’m sorry for taking so long. Did Yushiro give you the supplies I got?”

She nodded as she placed the last book on the shelf and turned to face me.

“Yes, I got everything. I was pleased to hear you have someone to talk to outside of the group,” she said with a smile.

I started to feel awkward. Any time Kyojuro was mentioned, guilt washed over me. Tamayo had been searching for these creatures her whole life, and here I was, sharing a nest with one of them, keeping it a secret from her.

“Yes, it was very nice to see him again. It had been quite some time,” I said, playing along with the story I made up.

Tamayo's gaze swept over me. “Looks like you had a nice time indeed.” Her teasing was unexpected.

Tamayo rarely discussed anything with me other than monster hunting, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I needed to focus on why I was here.

“Tamayo, I actually needed to talk to you about your next steps for the group. Is there anything you need me to do?”

She looked a bit surprised; it wasn’t often I showed much interest in her projects.

She grabbed a small map off her desk and unrolled it, pointing to the northeast.

“We didn’t have much luck in the northern area, so I think it’ll be better if we start going east. I intend to cover the whole region.”

A worry gnawed at my chest. Kyojuro's demands about what I can and cannot do echoed in my mind. He had expressed his anger with me for going north--the same night he marked me and claimed me as his mate.

“So, how can I help with that?”

“You’ll travel with Yushiro and me. It’ll just be us.”

I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Why me? Yushiro hates me every other day, and I contribute nothing more than eating their food.

“Why do you want me to go? Wouldn’t it be better to send some of the more experienced hunters with you?”

She gave me a slight nod.

“Yes, usually that would be the case. However, those hunters are only ‘experienced’ because they’ve had the chance to gain that experience. You, Y/N, need to get some under your belt as well.”

Well, I guess that makes sense.

“Another reason is I need some of the people who have been here longer to keep an eye on the woods around this place. We’ve noticed some strange noises and activity lately. It’s quite possible there could be something out there, so close, and we wouldn’t even know it.”

I had to keep a straight face, but my heart sank. It had to be Kyojuro; he keeps coming around because I’m here. He’s going to blow his cover and be found out.

I needed to talk to him, to explain that Tamayo and the others were catching on to his presence. I had to warn him to stay away.

Tamayo tilted her head, noticing I was lost in thought.

“Y/N?” She called my name softly.

I met her eyes for a moment before speaking. “When will we start our journey? Is it soon?”

She shrugged. “I’m still working on the details. Give me a day or so to get everything lined out, and I can give you a proper timeline.”

I felt a little relief. At least I had two days to process this with Kyojuro. Maybe with more time, he wouldn’t be as aggressive or angry. At least, that’s what I hoped.

----------

The walk back to the den wasn’t as bad as I expected. It was hard to see in the dark, but I was starting to memorize the path.

Sneaking out of my room was going to be annoying. They weren’t exactly keeping tabs on me, but people would get suspicious if they saw me walking into the woods every night and not returning until morning.

Everything about this felt complicated, but I was sure I’d get used to it. I still didn’t know how to convince Kyojuro to let me go east with Tamayo and Yushiro--probably two of his most disliked humans at the moment.

Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure another Hashira lives in that area, mainly near water. Tomioka...something like that. I remember reading about him in the books I found while trying to learn more about Kyojuro.

The only thing I remember about Tomioka is that he looks like some kind of kraken/human hybrid. Probably like a creepier, more unsettling mermaid. But the book never mentioned he was aggressive or dangerous like Shinazugawa.

Maybe Kyojuro wouldn’t be so opposed to it this time.

I could see the den, a faint light peeking through the vines that covered the entrance. When I walked in, I saw Kyojuro sitting by the fire he had started, which lit up most of the den.

He looked at me, his ears perking up, and smiled with his sharp teeth.

“Ah! So you can follow orders correctly!” he laughed enthusiastically.

I was caught off guard by his demeanor. Before everything that had happened recently, Kyojuro and I had talked casually in the woods. I wouldn’t call us friends exactly, but he was always playful and entertaining.

Given the recent circumstances, I hadn't seen this side of him in a while. He must be relaxing a little bit.

Do I really want to ruin his mood by asking to travel?

He got up from his spot by the fire and walked over to me, his tail wrapping around my waist to pull me closer. He lifted me up in his arms, nuzzling his head against my cheek.

“My mate has returned to me, just as she promised. Now we can spend the night together!” His voice echoed in the den, amplifying his excitement, and his clicking was loud.

Damn, he’s being cute.

He seems so happy; I can't talk to him about leaving right now. I miss this side of him. Sure, his looks are strangely attractive, but what really drew me to Kyojuro was his personality--fun, happy, and confident. Traits I wish I had more of.

I petted the top of his head, scratching behind his ears a little. He started making a growling purr, so I guess he liked it.

“What did you do while I was gone?” I asked, continuing to pet him.

His bright red eyes widened, and he smiled. “I hunted for you. You’re human and very small, so I made sure to bring you plenty!”

I couldn’t help but smile. He’s so happy to do things for me. Even when Kyojuro was angry with me, he’s been attentive since he claimed me. He makes sure I’m fed, that I’m not cold, that I’m safe. He doesn’t let his anger get in the way of being a provider.

Honestly, I know a lot of human men who could use a lesson in that as well...

“Thank you, Kyojuro, I’ll be sure to enjoy it.”

He set me down near the fire where some raw meat and a wooden skewer were laid out.

As I started to cook the meat, his tail draped around me, and his glowing red eyes stared into mine as he smiled. It was a little creepy, but I knew he was just happy.

The meat was good; I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now. Dealing with monsters and monster hunters can make you forget you’re a human who gets tired and hungry.

I could feel myself slightly dozing off as I ate. Curling up in the nest with my cryptid mate didn’t sound so bad right now.

Once I finished, I looked up at Kyojuro, who was still staring at me.

“I’m getting a little tired. Do you think we could go to bed now?”

His eyes flashed, and his expression changed. This smile was different--mischievous and full of lust.

“My mate wishes to sleep already? The night is still young for us, my dear...” He stood over me like a giant, his clawed hand gently grabbing my arm and pulling me up. He leaned down close to my face.

“You forget, I haven’t eaten yet. I’ve been waiting for my meal to return to me since she left.” His growl was low and seductive.

My mind was a mix of fear and arousal at his words. I couldn’t tell if he meant literally or figuratively, but I guess I was ready for either.

“What do you mean?” I struggled to find the right words.

His hand moved from my arm to my face, holding it softly.

“It means I’m going to devour you.”

Blood rushed to my face. I didn’t care which way he meant it, I was ready.

He picked me up again and carried me to our nest.

He set me down gently and leaned back to get a good look at me. His eyes darkened, his smile turning stern and commanding. His claws tugged at my already torn-up shirt.

“Take these off,” he growled lowly.

My heart pounded as I lifted my hands to unbutton my shirt. My mind was racing. I’d already let him fuck his aggression into me this morning after the run in at the market. But I could definitely go again.

I started to remove the rest of my clothes, slowly letting the fabric pool at my feet.

I could feel his intense stare his eyes wide with need, his fur standing on end.

Once I was completely bare I looked back up at him. His gaze was predatory, almost scary.

In an instant I found myself being pinned to the floor of the nest and he towered over top of me. One of his large clawed hands held both my wrists above my head while his tail pulled my legs apart.

His eyes taking me in hungrily. I could feel my body heating up.

"You are perfect," he purred.

Before I could react, his long wet tongue ran over my face and down my neck. I could feel his sharp teeth graze my skin as he moved further down my body, licking and biting as he went.

I arched into his touch, wanting more.

Suddenly his mouth closed over one of my nipples, his tongue swirling around it. The sensation made me moan loudly.

Kyojuro smirked against my chest, clearly pleased with my reactions.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" His clicking starting up again.

"Mhm," I whimpered, unable to form a proper response.

"Good." He kissed his way back up to my face, capturing my lips in a deep kiss. I couldn't help but moan again as his tongue invaded my mouth, tasting every inch of me.

I felt him release my hands, his clawed hands traveling down my body.

My body tensed up as he touched me.

"You're mine. All of you."

Kyojuro's tounge pressed against my folds, causing me to gasp.

"Kyojuro!"

I felt a sharp sting as his claws cut into the soft flesh of my thighs.

His eyes darkened, and his grin grew wider.

"My mate is so wet for me already..."

I blushed, embarrassed by his words.

"Do not be ashamed, love. I will take care of you." His purrs in my ear.

I gasped as his tongue finally found my clit, lapping over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

I gripped the fur on his shoulders, unable to keep my hands off of him.

I could hear him growling as his tongue moved faster and harder against me. My hips bucked against him, desperately trying to gain more friction. My orgasm was building quickly, and it wasn't long before I was moaning loudly, my legs shaking uncontrollably.

"Oh, Kyojuro, fuck! Please don't stop!"

my orgasm came so quick, I couldn’t believe it.

I lay there panting trying to catch my breath. It was so fast, I was almost disappointed.

This clicking noise suddenly grew louder his hand releasing my wrists and moving to my waist forcing me to sit up.

“We aren’t done yet, surely my mate can keep going.” That monstrous smile made my heart flutter again. I wasn’t done and neither was he.

As he sat back I found myself crawling between his legs, his cock was huge, hooked, the large knot bulging at the base.

I was practically drooling for it.

His eyes looked down at me amused.

“Does my mate see something she wants?” His voice echoed lowly.

I had never wanted a cock in my mouth so bad.

I couldn’t resist trying to wrap my hand around it, he growled lowly at my touch.

I knew I couldn’t fit much in my mouth but I was willing to try.

I needed it more than anything right now.

I ran my tongue from the base to the lip, looking into his eyes.

He looked so aroused, so primal.

I started to tease his tip with my tongue, flicking it back and forth before wrapping my lips around it.

It wasn’t much but it was enough to get him to groan loudly.

I started moving my head back and forth, sucking on his tip.

heard him growl loudly again as he gripped my hair in his hand, holding it still.

“More.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

I opened my mouth as wide as I could, taking as much of his tip in my mouth as I could and started moving my head back and forth.

My gags and moans sounded embarrassing, but the seemed to only edge Kyojuro on.

I could feel myself getting wet again at his pleasure.

I was starting to feel dizzy as I worked my mouth on him. I was drooling all over his cock, spit dripping from my chin.

“My little human, so eager to please me. Get on your hands and knees.”

His voice sent chills down my spine.

I complied immediately.

He positioned himself behind me, his tip pressing against my soaking wet pussy.

“You are so wet, my mate. Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

His hand wrapped around my throat and pulled me back against his chest.

I could barely get the words out.

“Fuck me, please. Fuck me hard, Kyojuro.” I whined.

He chuckled lowly at my begging.

“That’s good, I want you to beg more for me.”

He slid himself in and out of me, teasing me with just the tip.

“Please fuck me, please.” I was desperate.

He pulled out and slammed his cock in me, burying himself to the knot.

I gasped out in pleasure

His tail wrapped around my ankle, holding my legs apart. He started to move in and out of me at a fast pace.

He was going to make me cum again soon and I was sure he would follow suit.

He leaned in close to my ear and started to growl and click as he fucked me.

“Oh fuck, kyojuro...” I moaned, his tail tightening around my ankle.

I was starting to lose control again, my vision blurring as the orgasm hit me again.

His tail quickly moved from my ankle to around my waist, forcing me to stop moving.

Kyojuro’s cock pulsed in me as he released himself, his knot swelling up and locking in place.

I was completely full of his seed, unable to move.

I collapsed forward, my arms and legs giving out.

Kyojuro laid down behind me, pulling me close against him. I was already falling asleep, his warmth and his scent keeping me safe and content.

I had never felt so exhausted and protected in my life.

But I knew tomorrow would be different. I needed to convince Kyojuro to let me go on this hunt with Tamayo.

He wouldn’t be happy and he would probably be angry.

But I couldn’t let him win this time. I needed to be brave enough to hold my own.

I knew Kyojuro didn’t want me to leave, but he needed to understand why I was doing it.

I needed to protect him as much as he protected me.

I knew he would see my point of view.

He just needed to trust me a little bit.

And maybe he would see that I wasn’t going to run from him.

But guess I’ll find out tomorrow.

Next>>

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Tags: @fandomenbylover @emmenic726