#I can feel my heart tightening and beating strangely

[wololo-01]

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[itsoutrageouss]

Part four of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley seeing you cry for the first time, due to demand which I am (so) grateful for. Simon’s accidentally a little mean at the wrong time lol- readers on her period.

It’s the second time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that he looses himself into some kind of caretaker instinct.

The last time it had happened, it was after a brutal mission where he’d found you as a crying heap on the floor. So naturally his heart started pounding painfully in his chest when he creaked the door open to your room and saw you curled in bed, sniffling softly.

Once again the vulnerability you showed seemed to hurl him away like a storm. It was such a precious, private side of you and he wanted to go on his knees for you in thanks for allowing him to see it.

He’s by your side with three stalking striders, crouching down next to the bed. His hand hovers over your waist, then your shoulder, then your face because he doesn’t know if he can, or even where he should touch you right now, your shoulders shaking as your head nuzzles into your tear stained pillow.

“Hey. Stop.” He says, voice almost holding a small tremble, laced with panic because as much as he adored this side of you, he wanted you to smile again. Please?

You didn’t respond, only curled further away like an uninterested cat. He frowns and then grabs your neck, gently turning it until you meet his gaze. He wants to gasp at how pretty you look with glistening, red cheeks and glossy eyes, lashes sticking together as you pout at him.

“What is it lovie?” The nickname slips before he knows how to stop it and he winces internally, tensing. But it seems to coax you to nuzzle your face into his hand instead, and he keeps it completely still, scared that a single movement would scare you away. He feels your cold cheek press into his palm, itching to curl his fingers into the soft skin.

“Nothing” you whine.

He huffs. Jesus Christ.

“Nothing, yeah? That’ why you’re crying like a baby?” He smiles, eyes crinkling behind the mask but yours have closed and he sees your face contort into more sadness, more crying and his eyes go wide, immediately holding you a little tighter.

“No! No, shit, sweet’eart it was a joke” he says quickly, voice urgent. You usually took all his teasing with great stride or an even better comeback, but seeing you cry even more because of him made a strange knot form in his throat that he couldn’t seem to swallow down.

You demonstratively turn your back to him on the bed. It was actually insane to him, seeing you like this. You were always sharp, focused, witty; slapping Johnny and Simon on the arm when they start bantering too much on the way to a mission.

He was sort of addicted to it, he thought, as even your back turning made something warm flutter in his stomach as he reached for your shoulder, entire hand able to envelop it and tug gently.

“M’ sorry? M’ sorry just… talk to me.” Silence ensues.

“Please.” The word falls unnaturally from his lips.

It seems to be the keyword because your head turns painfully slow until you blink up at him, now with a slight scowl.

“It hurts” you whisper, bottom lip jutting out. He immediately pulls your cover down to your thigh to start looking you over for injuries but your cold hands tug his wrist and puts his palms over your lower stomach. He blinks.

“You pregnant?” He blurts.

Your eyes widen and he swears he sees a hint of a smile and triumph floods his system. “No you idiot! I’m on my period. Cramps!” You say with a shake of your head, eyes closing for a beat.

He was a bloody idiot to be fair. A lot of things from today seemed to click for him when you said that, and his shoulders relax, head tilting as his eyes narrow, framed by the black mask. His hands on your stomach fan out, thumbs stroking the skin under your shirt. He feels your muscles tighten at his touch.

“Sensitive?” He muses.

“Shut it” you mumble, looking away and trying not to let the enjoyment of his touch show too much, but your eyes flutter closed and he could practically hear you purring. But he doesn’t say anything, once again afraid he’ll ruin this little bubble that you’ve let him be a part of, for reasons he doesn’t understand.

After long minutes of comfortable silence, his hands running over the expanse of your stomach, caressing and massaging softly, he sees your lips part in soft breaths. Slowly and lingering, his hands retreat so he doesn’t do anything stupid. But you whine, immediately noticing the lack of his touch, even in your half asleep state, grabbing for him. His jaw flexes as he tried not to smile.

“M’ gonna run you a bath, lovie. I’ll be right back.” He promised, suddenly turning into some kind of caretaker role he never thought he wanted to be. Until you came along and now he finds himself wanting to do all kinds of things for you, after seeing how you reacted to his touch. The scrunch of your brows when he tells you he’ll run you a bath gives him a high he can ride for days.

He’s just trying to repay how sweetly you bandaged his hands weeks ago. To repay how you played along to his little story at the last mission about how you and him had met.

Trying to repay these insatiable and foreign feelings you brought forth in him, so you wouldn’t take them away. Ever.

Now maybe he just had to actually tell you about them? No. No way. The thought was forced from his mind immediately.

series masterlist

[reginyani]

Wet Dreams | s.reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer decides to call it a day and head to bed, where he has a vivid wet dream of one of his female coworkers at the BAU.

cw: 18+, mdni, nsfw, dom!reader, sub!spencer, fem!bau!reader, oral sex, blowjob, reader swallows, use of Y/N, wet dreams

wc: 1174

authors note: sorry for the inactivity on my account! decided to pay back for that with some spencer smut;) enjoy! if you did, like and reblog!

It was an ordinary night, or so Spencer thought. The hum of the lights in his apartment, the soft tick of the clock on the wall, and the familiar weight of the blanket wrapped around his lower body. Yet something was still different.

 

When he closed his eyes, the world around him slowly started to drift away into an even deeper atmosphere.

 

It started like any other dream he has had—disjointed, unclear—but soon it shifted, warped. He found himself still lying down, leaning up on his bed. The room was dimly lit, and the air was thick with unfamiliar tension. The walls were dark, shadowed, as though the room itself was alive and shifting with every passing second.

 

Before he could process what was happening, the sound of footsteps echoed through the space. He looked up from his covers and found you standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

 

It was you, his BAU co-worker. Unlike anyone he had ever seen, a vision so striking he forgot how to breathe for a second. Your eyes glowed deeply in the low light, and your presence radiated an intense, magnetic pull. You weren't just beautiful; you were something otherworldly. It was odd; he had never noticed it before. As you stepped closer, Spencer's heart skipped a beat.

 

"What are you... doing here?" He asked, his voice hoarse, as if his body were betraying him. It was unable to comply with his usual levelheadedness.

 

"What do you mean, silly? I've been here," you said, continuing to walk over to the edge of his bed.

 

"I—uh..." He's at a loss for words, raising an eyebrow as he watches your body sway side to side as your footsteps make noise against the wood floor.

 

Once you finally make it to his bed, you crawl onto it, on all fours, making your way up his body. You smirk, looking into his big brown eyes. You snatch the blanket off, throwing it somewhere to find some other time.

 

"I can give you exactly what you need, Spencer," you said, your voice soft and melodic, your words carefully crafted to seduce him. It made his pulse race, a sudden heat rising in his chest that he couldn't explain.

 

"Need?" He gulped, sitting up straighter as your body towered over his, his brain trying to catch up with the situation. "I don't... I don't understand," his sad brown puppy eyes staring into your glowing ones in confusion.

 

You leaned in, your face mere inches from his, your breath warm against his skin. "I'm what you need in this exact moment," you whispered. "A way to... release tension, free you from the weight of your thoughts. You think so much, analyzing everything, but sometimes... you need to have an escape."

 

His chest tightened at the suggestion, his mind racing with undignified thoughts. There was something about your presence that made it impossible for him to think straight. It was as if you knew every part of him, every desire, every worry he buried deep inside himself.

 

"You don't have to think anything," you murmured, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his pajama pants. "Just feel."

 

Spencer's breath hitched as he looked down at your hand. He always prided himself on his control, but here, in this strange dream, that control seemed to slip through his fingers. His mind screamed to not allow this to happen, but his body betrayed him as he let out a whimper in anticipation.

 

You smiled at his inner conflict, his whimper music to your ears. "You don't have to fight it," you continued to whisper to him, seductively. "Do you want this, Spencer?" you finally ask.

 

He looks back up at you before finally nodding his head. "...Yes."

 

You grin, quickly pulling down his pajama pants and boxers all at once. His cock sprung out, already hard. He looks away from the scene, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

 

"Don't be embarrassed, baby. It's just me," you say, reassuring him and his doubts about this. Although there was no turning back now.

 

You look back down to his throbbing member, taking it in your hand and stroking it slowly. He turns his head back over, his mouth opening as a low groan escapes his lips.

 

"Oh... oh." he let out, throwing his head back in pleasure. You looked up to see his messy brown curls fall from his slightly wet forehead, his image more beautiful than ever.

Pathetic. It turned you on.

You finally lean your head down, taking it in your mouth slowly, your lips gliding over him as your hand worked the rest that couldn't fit into your mouth. Your tongue began to swirl and flick against the tip, feeling the smooth surface in your mouth.

 

Spencer couldn't hold back anymore. His hands flung to your head, gripping your hair, and he pushed your head further, allowing his cock to be fully pushed into your mouth. He holds your hair back as you begin to bob your head up and down, gagging as his cock hits the back of your throat.

 

Spencer's legs began to shake slightly, moaning loudly. His shame wasn't apparent anymore, as he allowed himself to guide your head on his length, beginning to thrust his hips unwillingly.

 

"Fuck... Just like that." He continues to thrust, this time in a steady rhythm, sliding in and out of your mouth with a swishing sound. Your lips gripped around his cock, driving him closer to release. "God, Y/N. You're so... talented."

 

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, filled with lust and desire. All his problems seemed to fade away, nothing on his mind but the feeling of your lips clenching against his cock. You moan slightly, sending vibrations up his length, making him stutter out a whimper.

 

"I'm... I'm close..." he warned, his voice low but filled with pleasure as you worked your mouth on him.

 

Suddenly, a loud whine escaped his mouth, his legs heavily shaking uncontrollably. He clutched the sheets, his knuckles turning white as a warm liquid began to fill your mouth.

 

You swallowed.

 

You slide your mouth off his cock with a loud pop, sitting upward as you gaze at his face.

 

"You did so well, baby." You cooed, praising him as you brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear. He sighed softly, his arms shaking as he struggled to keep his body up. "I'm glad I could help you escape, even if it wasn't real."

 

That was the last thing you said before his eyes opened, breathing heavily as he sat up in his bed. The remnants of the dream lingered in the edges of Spencer's mind. It had been so vivid, so real—the kind of dream where every detail felt significant. Spencer rubbed his temples, pulling fragments of the haze, but the more he thought about it, the further it seemed to fade away.

 

How was he gonna act when he saw you at work? He flipped his sheets off his hot body, then looked down at his pajama pants.

 

Fuck.

 

Is all he thought as he looked down at the wet splotch on his crotch.

 

 

tags:

[bloomries]

yeah so my husband— my husband?!

includes : lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, and belphegor.

summary : calling him your "husband" (even though you two aren't married yet) to see his reaction.

warnings : gn! reader. mention of marriage. suggestive (in asmodeus'). the word 'husband' will begin to look strange bc it's used so much, apologies.

LUCIFER

You just meant for it to be a harmless little prank, something to tease Lucifer with later when you two were alone, perhaps gauge his reaction to the idea, but after you said 'yeah, so my husband...' Diavolo's eyes grew as wide as the moon and you instantly regretted your prank idea.

Diavolo clasped a hand on Lucifer's shoulder, beaming. "You finally asked!" This statement went over your head as you tried to quickly take back your words, Lucifer's blanched face making it clear he'll definitely be scolding you later. "But it seems I missed the wedding? Oh well, I'll just host you another wedding so I can see it for myself!"

"Ah, L- Lord Diavolo..." Lucifer sends you a glare as you smile sheepishly. "We aren't- I haven't-"

"How do you both feel about a chocolate fountain?" Diavolo is already off in his own little world, imagining how he'll plan out your wedding. Lucifer decides he'll inform Barbatos of the prank, and have Barbatos deal with it- Lucifer already has his hands full with you. He pulls you aside as Diavolo talks to himself.

"Do you see what you've done?"

"Sorry..." You fake pout, batting your lashes up at him. "My darling husband will surely fix it though, right?" Oh, how can he stay mad when he truly likes the title so much. Perhaps this will make asking you to marry him easier? You surely seem to enjoy the title just as much.

MAMMON

Mammon is always trying to listen in on your phone calls, he's nosy and likes to know all the gossip. Today in particular though, he's trying extra hard to hear, clinging to you and making you unable to do other tasks whilst on your call.

Deciding to tease him a little, in hopes of getting him off of you, you sigh dramatically into the receiver. "I'm sorry, my husband needs my attention, one second."

And when you look down at him, his eyes are wide and shiny, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. Him? Were you talking about him? He's your husband? A giant grin takes over his features and it seems your little prank has the opposite effect you wanted, as he takes the phone from you.

"Yeah, sorry, their husband- that's me!- needs 'em!" He boasts proudly before hanging up the call and clutching on to you tighter, burying his face into your side, his grin not changing in the slightest.

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair. "Rude, I was trying to talk to someone, you know." Mammon shrugs, not a care in the world.

"'m your husband, I take priority."

"You know you're not officially my husband yet, right?" Shit, you're right. Well, that'll change soon, don't you worry one bit! Mammon knows how to take a hint, and there'll be a ring on that finger soon enough!

LEVIATHAN

You and Levi were playing an online game, chat on full blast, when you decide to tease him- because it's just so fun to see his flustered expression, and you have an inkling that this'll give him some motivation for the game. "Ah, hubby, can you help me with these guys!"

"H- Hubby!?" Leviathan's neck nearly breaks from how quickly he snaps to look over at you, you seem unphased though by the phrase- as if it came so naturally. His heart skips a beat, his grip on the controller tightening. "W- Where are you, I'll come help!"

His gaming friends are all blowing up the chat box, some getting on voice chat just to ask what that meant- 'was Levi actually married?,' 'He was a husband?,' 'Since when!?,' 'Congratulations!,' etc.

Levi would have gotten more flustered, had he been paying any attention to said friends, but he's much more focused on proving he'd make an excellent spouse by rushing to where you were in the map and one-shotting all the enemies that surrounded you.

The battle is quickly won thanks to Levi, who puffs out his chest with pride. You lean over from your gaming station adjacent of his, and press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, hubby~" His cheeks grow a rosy pink, and he pulls his headphones off to give you a serious look.

"Let's get married."

SATAN

"Oh husband~" You call, "Can you help me get this book? I can't reach!" Satan peaks his head from around the corner to give you a questioning look. Who were you calling husband? He watches you struggle, leaning his frame against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't remember proposing." Satan watches as you deflates from his lack of reaction to your prank. He sighs, walking over to you and helping you reach the book, tapping it on your head lightly before handing it over to you.

"You're no fun, you know that?"

Satan has a feeling this was definitely set up by one of his brothers, and he'll definitely be getting his revenge on them for making you do this (and for making his heart hammer against his ribcage uncontrollably). Still, he hates to see you upset in the least, so he lifts your chin with his finger and thumb and sends you that smile that sends shivers down your spine.

"Don't be upset, you'll get to call me husband soon, okay?"

And he truly did mean that, he already had a ring, which sat heavy in his pocket. He just wanted to make sure you had the most perfect proposal, something straight out of a romance novel- because that's what you deserve. Soon, soon you'll be able to lovingly call him 'husband' whenever you wish.

ASMODEUS

Asmo is live-streaming again, doing a little grwm-type video, with you off to the side/in the background. As he begins to do his skin care, he asks for you to take over and chat for a little while for him, so you peak your head into view and wave at his viewers.

"Hello everyone!" You smile, glancing back at Asmo who's behind you in the bathroom, doing his skincare. "My lovely husband is doing his skincare right now, it usually takes him about ten to fifteen minutes to complete it." You say, however you can see his head pop-up from the sink and he whips around to look at you.

"Husband?" He calls, and when you nod, confirming your words, he grins. "Oh my, is this a proposal?" He asks with a teasing lilt, and you joking go along with his words, nodding before reenacting the famous getting-down-on-one-knee. You open your hands as if you had a ring box, presenting it to him. He holds his hand out to you, "I do~" You pretend to slip a ring on to his finger and he admires the imaginary ring before leaning down to kiss you.

"Now," He pulls away, wiggling his brows. "Shall we get started on the honeymoon part?"

"Asmo, that's typically after the weddi-" Asmo reaches for his phone, waving and saying a little 'byeeee' to his followers as he ends the livestream with a giggle, throwing you a lil' mischievous smile.

"No harm in starting earlier, right?" And despite only being halfway through his skincare, and this not being a real proposal, the honeymoon was very nice indeed- he can't wait for the real one though.

BEELZEBUB

You had seen the trend, and wondered how Beelzebub would react. So, under the guise of trying some new food and giving it a review, you set up your camera and begin filming. "Hey everyone, me and my husband are going to be rating food from the new McDevil menu~"

Beel doesn't react at all, and you send him a quick glance before trying again- perhaps he didn't hear you? "I think the Sin-Fries are a solid 7/10, what about you, husband?" But again, he doesn't react to the word at all, instead giving his own rating for the new fries.

Is he really not realizing what you're saying? You decide to try one last time. "My husbands food always looks better than mine," You whine, peaking over at him to see his reaction, only to see him offering you a bite of his burger. You sigh, giving up and deciding to just enjoy your food. You take a bite of his burger, offering him some of yours. The review ends swiftly, and you turn off the camera.

As you two clean up from eating, you notice Beelzebub quieter than usual. You're about to ask him if everything is okay, his face becoming flushed, when he speaks up.

"Soon, okay?" You blink a few times, confused by his words. He bashfully looks up at you, and that's when you realize what he's talking about- marriage, he plans on proposing to you soon. Your own cheeks now grow unbearably warm. "I promise."

Your prank definitely backfired, as now you're the one trying to calm your racing heart (although Beelzebub is definitely just as flustered). Still, you're holding him accountable to his promise- soon.

BELPHEGOR

You're not sure how this little prank managed to get turned against you, but Belphegor has made it so that you're now his personal pillow- again.

"I'm just saying, if I'm you're husband, then that means you should let me use you as a pillow whenever I want." You open your mouth to retaliate, but he beats you to it, batting his lashes up at you. "Don't you want your husband to be comfortable?"

"I..." You falter. You regret deciding to call him your 'husband~' to try and get him to help you with chores. You thought maybe it'd motivate him, or maybe you'd just get to see his cute blushing face, instead you're suffering.

"Come on now, don't be shy~" He wiggles about, trying to grab you to pull you towards him, but he doesn't really exert enough energy to be successful. "Ugh, why... do you... do this... to me- to your darling husband!"

"You're anything but darling." You say, crossing your arms over your chest. "Last time I call you 'husband' or any term of endearment, I swear..." You grumble, turning on your heels to leave, disappointed your prank didn't work.

Belphegor grins, snuggling up to his pillow as he watches you leave. "That's what you think," he mumbles to himself, yawning, "when I finally get that ring on your finger, I'll have ya calling me husband again, just you wait~" He snickers, and a cold chill runs down your spine. You glance back to see him asleep, although you feel as if he's planning something- and you weren't sticking around to find out what!

[pucksandpower]

Find Me Again

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)

Alexandria, 30 BC

The scorching Egyptian sun beats down on Alexandria as you hurry through the bustling streets, your sandals slapping against the warm stone. The air is thick with tension — whispers of Octavian’s approaching army have the city on edge. But your mind is elsewhere, focused on the stolen moments you’ll soon share with Lando.

You slip into a secluded alleyway, heart racing as you spot his familiar silhouette. Lando’s face lights up when he sees you, though worry creases his brow.

“There you are,” he murmurs, pulling you close. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

You melt into his embrace, savoring his warmth. “I’m sorry I’m late. The palace has been in chaos with all the rumors flying about.”

Lando’s arms tighten around you. “It’s true then? Octavian draws near?”

You nod against his chest. “I fear so. Cleopatra grows more desperate by the day.”

He pulls back, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His dark eyes search yours intently. “Come away with me,” he pleads. “We can leave the city tonight, find passage on a ship bound for Greece or Cyprus.”

Your heart aches at the longing in his voice. “Lando, you know I can’t abandon my duty to the queen. She needs me now more than ever.”

“And what of my need for you?” Lando’s voice cracks with emotion. “Each day I’m torn between my loyalty to Rome and my love for you. I cannot bear the thought of you in danger when Octavian’s forces arrive.”

You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “My brave soldier,” you murmur. “Always trying to protect me. But I’ve survived far worse than regime changes. We’ll find a way through this, as we always do.”

Lando leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “I wish I had your optimism. Every time I close my eyes, I see visions of you lying lifeless amidst the chaos of battle.”

A chill runs down your spine despite the oppressive heat. “Don’t speak of such things,” you chide gently. “We make our own fate, remember?”

He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. I just ... I can’t shake this feeling of impending doom. Promise me you’ll be careful, my love. Promise you’ll do whatever it takes to stay safe.”

“I promise,” you whisper, sealing the vow with a tender kiss.

Lando responds eagerly, drawing you closer as the kiss deepens. For a blissful moment, the world fades away and there is only the two of you, lost in each other’s embrace.

A distant shout breaks the spell. You reluctantly pull away, both breathing heavily.

“I should go,” you murmur regretfully. “Cleopatra will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”

Lando nods, though he doesn’t release you from his arms. “When can I see you again?”

You bite your lip, considering. “Three days from now, at sunset. Meet me by the lighthouse?”

“I’ll be there,” he vows solemnly. “Be safe, my love.”

With a final lingering kiss, you slip from his embrace and hurry back towards the palace. Your heart feels lighter despite the looming threats, buoyed by Lando’s love and the promise of your next rendezvous.

But fate, it seems, has other plans.

The next few days pass in a blur of mounting tension. Cleopatra grows increasingly erratic, oscillating between grandiose plans to seduce Octavian and talks of ending her own life. You do your best to comfort and counsel her, all while stealing moments to daydream about your upcoming meeting with Lando.

On the fated evening, you’re helping Cleopatra prepare for bed when she suddenly fixates on a basket of figs brought by a servant.

“Ah, how fitting,” she muses, a strange glint in her eye. “Did you know, my dear, that the Egyptians that came before us believed figs to be the fruit of the afterlife?”

A chill runs down your spine. “My queen?”

Cleopatra waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I was simply contemplating the cyclical nature of life and death. Come, help me into bed.”

You obey, tucking the sheets around her with practiced ease. As you turn to leave, her hand darts out to grasp your wrist.

“Stay with me a while longer,” she implores. “I find I cannot bear to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Your heart sinks, knowing you’ll miss your rendezvous with Lando. But duty wins out over desire. “Of course, my queen. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Hours pass as you sit by Cleopatra’s bedside, listening to her reminisce about better days. Just as your eyelids begin to grow heavy, a commotion in the hall startles you both fully awake.

“What’s happening?” Cleopatra demands, sitting up.

Before you can answer, the doors burst open and a breathless messenger stumbles in. “My queen,” he pants, “Octavian’s army has breached the city walls!”

Cleopatra’s face hardens. “So, the end has come at last.” She turns to you, her gaze intense. “Fetch me the asp.”

Your blood runs cold. “My queen, surely there must be another way-”

“Do not argue with me!” She snaps. “I will not be paraded through Rome as Octavian’s prize. Now go, quickly!”

With a heavy heart, you hurry to retrieve the venomous snake from its hidden chamber. Your hands shake as you return, presenting the basket to Cleopatra.

She reaches for it eagerly, but pauses. Her eyes meet yours, softening slightly. “My faithful friend,” she murmurs. “You have served me well. I release you from your duties. Go, find that Roman boy of yours and flee while you still can.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “You knew?”

Cleopatra’s lips quirk in a sad smile. “I’ve always known. Now go, before it’s too late.”

Torn between duty and desire, you hesitate. In that moment of indecision, everything changes.

Cleopatra reaches for the asp, but in her haste, she knocks the basket from your hands. The snake falls to the floor, immediately striking at the nearest target … you.

Pain explodes in your ankle as the asp’s fangs sink into your flesh. You cry out, stumbling backwards.

“No!” Cleopatra wails, lunging to catch you as you fall.

The world begins to spin as the venom courses through your veins. Your last coherent thought is of Lando, waiting faithfully by the lighthouse. As darkness closes in, you pray he’ll forgive you for breaking your promise.

Hours later, Lando fights his way through the chaos of the conquered city. He charges into the palace, heedless of the danger, desperate to find you.

When he bursts into Cleopatra’s chambers, his worst fears are realized. Two bodies lie motionless on the floor — the queen and beside her ...

“No,” he chokes out, falling to his knees beside your lifeless form. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lando gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as sobs wrack his body. “You promised,” he whispers brokenly. “You promised you’d stay safe.”

But promises, like empires, are so easily broken. As the sun rises on a new era for Egypt, it sets on this chapter of your shared story. Yet even as this life ends, the seeds of the next are already taking root, waiting to bloom in another time, another place.

For true love, like the mighty Nile, cannot be contained. It flows ever onward, carving new paths through the landscape of eternity.

Pompeii, 79 AD

The ground trembles beneath your feet as you race through the chaotic streets of Pompeii. Ash rains from the sky, coating everything in a ghostly gray shroud. All around, people scream and push, desperately seeking escape from the fury of Mount Vesuvius.

“Lando!” You call out, your voice hoarse from the acrid air. “Lando, where are you?”

A hand suddenly grabs your arm, yanking you into a narrow alleyway. You whirl around, ready to fight, only to find yourself face to face with Lando. His usually immaculate toga is torn and stained with soot, his dark curls matted with ash.

“Thank the gods,” he breathes, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “I thought I’d lost you in the crowd.”

You cling to him tightly, savoring his familiar warmth amidst the chaos. “We need to get out of the city,” you say urgently. “The mountain — it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Lando nods grimly. “I know. I’ve been trying to make it to the harbor, but the roads are completely blocked. It’s madness out there.”

Another tremor rocks the ground, stronger than before. Pieces of masonry rain down from the surrounding buildings. Lando shields you with his body as you both press against the alley wall.

“We can’t stay here,” you say once the shaking subsides. “It’s not safe.”

“Nowhere is safe,” Lando replies, his eyes haunted. “But you’re right, we need to keep moving. Come on, I know another way to the docks.”

Hand-in-hand, you dash back out into the crowded street. The air grows thicker with each passing moment, making it harder to breathe. You pull the edge of your stola over your mouth and nose, squinting through the haze.

Lando leads you through a maze of side streets and back alleys, avoiding the worst of the panicked crowds. But with each turn, your hope dwindles. The mountain’s fury seems to be growing by the minute, raining down fire and ash with terrifying intensity.

As you round another corner, you come face to face with a wall of rubble blocking the entire street. Lando curses under his breath, pounding his fist against a fallen column.

“It’s no use,” he says, defeat creeping into his voice. “Every path to the harbor is cut off. We’re trapped.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll find somewhere to wait it out. The gods won’t abandon us. We just have to have faith.”

He turns to you, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Always the optimist, aren’t you? Even in the face of certain doom.”

“One of us has to be,” you reply, managing a weak smile of your own.

Another violent tremor shakes the ground, nearly knocking you both off your feet. In the distance, you hear the ominous rumble of collapsing buildings.

“Quick, in here!” Lando shouts, pulling you towards a sturdy-looking stone building. You duck inside just as a fresh barrage of burning rocks pelts the street where you were standing moments ago.

As your eyes adjust to the dimness, you realize you’re in some kind of workshop. Half-finished statues and blocks of marble are scattered about, coated in a fine layer of ash that has sifted through the cracks.

“A sculptor’s studio,” Lando muses, running his hand along a nearby bust. “Rather fitting, don’t you think? To spend our last moments surrounded by art meant to outlast us all.”

You shoot him a reproachful look. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end. We’ll get through this, just like we always do.”

He sighs, pulling you close. “I admire your spirit, my love. But I fear this time, the Fates have other plans for us.”

As if to punctuate his words, the ground gives another violent lurch. The air grows even thicker, filled with choking dust and sulfurous fumes.

“It’s getting harder to breathe,” you gasp, fighting back a coughing fit.

Lando guides you to a relatively clear corner of the room, helping you sit on the floor before settling beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side.

“Just try to take shallow breaths,” he instructs, his own voice strained. “Like this, see?”

You nod, focusing on matching your breathing to his. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your labored breaths and the distant rumble of the mountain.

“Lando?” You whisper after a while.

“Hmm?”

“I’m scared.”

He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, love. I am too.”

“Tell me a story?” You ask, your voice small. “Like you used to, when we first met. Remember?”

Lando chuckles softly. “How could I forget? You were the most stubborn student I’ve ever had the misfortune of tutoring.”

“Hey!” You protest weakly, managing a smile despite everything. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh no?” He teases. “Who was it that insisted the Odyssey would be vastly improved if Odysseus had simply asked for directions?”

You laugh, the sound quickly dissolving into a cough. “Well, it’s true! Twenty years to get home? Penelope should have moved on.”

Lando shakes his head in mock dismay. “Such disrespect for the classics. I clearly failed as your tutor.”

“Never,” you murmur, snuggling closer to him. “You taught me far more important things than dusty old stories.”

“Oh? And what might those be?”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “You taught me what it means to truly love someone. To find a home not in a place, but in a person.”

Lando’s eyes shine with unshed tears as he leans down to kiss you softly. “And you, my darling, taught me that life is meant to be lived, not just studied. You brought color to my world of scrolls and stone.”

Another tremor shakes the building, sending a fresh wave of dust raining down on you both. The air grows thicker, each breath a struggle.

“Lando,” you wheeze, gripping his hand tightly. “I don’t want to die.”

He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Promise you won’t leave me?” You plead, your vision starting to blur.

“Never,” he vows fiercely. “Not in this life or any other. Wherever our souls go next, we go together. I promise.”

You manage a weak nod, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. As consciousness begins to slip away, you’re struck by a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Lando?” You murmur, your voice barely audible.

“Yes, love?”

“I think ... I think we’ve done this before.”

He lets out a shaky laugh. “What, died in each other’s arms while a volcano erupts? I think I’d remember that.”

You shake your head slightly. “No, not exactly. But this feeling ... like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’ll find each other again, no matter what.”

Lando is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Maybe we have. Maybe we will. I’d like to think so.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

As the world crumbles around you, you cling to each other. Your last thoughts are not of fear or regret, but of the love you share. A love so powerful it transcends time itself.

And as this chapter closes, another waits to begin. For some bonds are too strong to be broken, even by death. Your souls are destined to find each other again and again, weaving an eternal tapestry of love across the ages.

Salem, 1692

The air in the Salem courthouse is thick with tension and the bitter scent of fear. You stand before the assembled judges, your wrists bound tightly with rough rope that chafes your skin. The crowd of onlookers murmurs and shifts restlessly, their faces a sea of suspicion and barely concealed hostility.

Lando sits among them, his face a mask of anguish as he watches the proceedings. He wants nothing more than to rush to your side, to shield you from the madness that has gripped the town. But he knows that any show of support would only damn you further in the eyes of the court.

Judge Hathorne’s voice rings out, silencing the whispers. “The accused will step forward.”

You take a shaky step, raising your chin defiantly despite the terror coursing through your veins.

“You stand accused of witchcraft and consorting with the devil,” Hathorne intones gravely. “How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” you declare, your voice stronger than you feel. “I am no witch, merely a midwife and herbalist. I have done nothing but help this community.”

A snort of derision comes from the crowd. You turn to see Goodwife Putnam, her face twisted with malice. “Lies!” She shrieks. “I saw her dancing naked in the woods, consorting with dark spirits!”

“That’s not true!” You protest. “I was gathering herbs for my remedies, nothing more!”

Judge Hathorne raises an eyebrow. “And can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on the night in question?”

Your heart sinks. You had been alone that night, as you often were when foraging. “I ... I was alone, your honor. But I swear on all that is holy, I am no witch.”

A ripple of whispers sweeps through the crowd. Lando’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tight with the effort of remaining silent.

“Very convenient,” Hathorne remarks dryly. “Goody Putnam, you may continue with your testimony.”

The woman stands, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that chills you to the bone. “I’ve seen her speaking to animals as if they could understand her. And just last week, my cow’s milk turned sour the very day after she visited our farm!”

“That’s ridiculous!” You exclaim. “Milk spoils, it’s a natural occurrence. And I often speak to animals, as do many others. It does not make me a witch!”

But your protests fall on deaf ears. One by one, your neighbors step forward with increasingly outlandish accusations. Every misfortune, every unexplained event is laid at your feet.

“She cursed my crops!”

“My child fell ill after eating her bread!”

“I saw her flying on a broomstick!”

The claims grow more absurd, but the judges nod solemnly at each one. You feel the noose of suspicion tightening around your neck with each passing moment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Lando leaps to his feet. “This is madness!” He shouts. “You’re condemning an innocent woman based on nothing but gossip and superstition!”

All eyes turn to him. Judge Danforth fixes him with a steely glare. “Master Norris, you will remain silent or be removed from this courtroom.”

“I will not be silent while you murder an innocent woman!” Lando retorts. He turns to the crowd, imploring them. “Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re tearing our community apart with these baseless accusations!”

A murmur of uncertainty ripples through the onlookers. For a moment, you dare to hope that reason might prevail.

But then Abigail Williams, one of the young girls at the center of the witch hunt, lets out a blood-curdling shriek. She points a trembling finger at you. “Her specter! I see her specter tormenting me even now!”

The other girls quickly join in, writhing and screaming as if in the throes of possession. The courtroom erupts into chaos.

“Order!” Judge Hathorne bellows, pounding his gavel. “Order in the court!”

As the commotion dies down, he turns to you, his expression grave. “The evidence against you is overwhelming. Unless you confess and repent, I have no choice but to find you guilty of witchcraft.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. You know that a confession might spare your life, but it would mean living a lie. And worse, it would lend credence to the madness gripping Salem.

“I will not confess to crimes I did not commit,” you say quietly but firmly. “I am innocent before God and man.”

Judge Hathorne’s face hardens. “Then you leave us no choice. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul.”

The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and shocked gasps. Lando’s anguished cry rises above the din. “No! You can’t do this!”

He rushes towards you, but is quickly restrained by two burly constables. “Let me go!” He shouts, struggling against their grip. “She’s innocent!”

Your eyes meet his across the chaotic courtroom. Despite everything, you manage a small, sad smile. “It’s alright, Lando,” you call out. “Be strong. This isn’t your fault.”

As the guards move to lead you away, Lando breaks free and rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands, his eyes wild with desperation. “I’ll find a way to stop this,” he vows. “I won’t let them take you.”

You lean into his touch, memorizing the feel of his hands on your skin. “There’s nothing you can do, my love. Promise me you’ll stay safe. Don’t let them take you too.”

“I can’t lose you,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face.

“You won’t,” you whisper fiercely. “Not really. I don’t know how I know this, but I swear we’ll find each other again. In another life, another time. This isn’t the end for us.”

The guards roughly pull you apart. As they drag you away, you keep your eyes locked on Lando’s, drawing strength from his gaze.

The next few days pass in a blur of fear and desperate prayer. You cling to the strange certainty that had come over you in the courtroom — that somehow, someway, this is not truly the end for you and Lando.

On the day of your execution, you walk to the gallows with your head held high. The crowd that has gathered is subdued, some already beginning to question the justice of what’s happening.

You scan the faces, searching for Lando, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Your heart aches at his absence, but you understand. It would be too painful for him to watch.

As the noose is placed around your neck, you close your eyes and think of Lando. Of his laugh, his gentle touch, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hold onto these memories as the world falls away beneath your feet.

Your last conscious thought is a promise — to find him again, no matter how long it takes.

Miles away, hidden in the woods, Lando feels the exact moment you leave this world. He collapses to his knees, a wordless cry of anguish tearing from his throat. But even in his grief, he feels the echo of your final promise.

“I’ll find you,” he whispers to the uncaring forest. “In this life or the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”

And so another chapter closes, the threads of your shared destiny stretching onward through time. The cycle continues, each life bringing you closer to the moment when you’ll finally break free of this endless dance of death and rebirth.

Yekaterinburg, 1918

The Ipatiev House looms dark and foreboding in the Yekaterinburg night. You pace the confines of your makeshift prison, the once-opulent rooms now a stark reminder of how far the mighty Romanovs have fallen. The sound of raised voices and heavy footsteps from the floor below sends a chill down your spine.

“They’re coming,” your sister Maria whispers, her eyes wide with fear.

Before you can respond, the door bursts open. A group of armed men file in, their faces grim and purposeful. Your heart nearly stops when you spot a familiar face among them.

“Lando?” You gasp, scarcely able to believe your eyes.

He meets your gaze, his expression a turbulent mix of emotions. “Grand Duchess,” he says stiffly, the formal title at odds with the intimate moments you’ve shared in secret.

“What’s happening?” You demand, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Why are you here?”

Yakov Yurovsky, the commandant of the house, steps forward. “The Ural Soviet has decided to execute the Romanov family,” he announces coldly. “You are to be moved to the basement immediately.”

A wave of terror washes over you. “No,” you breathe. “No, this can’t be happening.”

Your eyes lock with Lando’s, silently pleading. For a moment, you see the conflict raging behind his eyes. But then his expression hardens, and he looks away.

As the guards begin herding your family towards the stairs, you manage to maneuver closer to Lando. “How could you be part of this?” You hiss under your breath.

His jaw clenches. “The revolution demands sacrifices,” he mutters. “Even from those we ... care about.”

“Care about?” You repeat incredulously. “Is that all I am to you now? After everything we’ve shared?”

A flicker of pain crosses his face. “You know it’s more complicated than that. Your family’s rule has caused immeasurable suffering. This ... this is justice.”

“Murder is not justice,” you retort, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.

Before he can respond, you’re roughly pushed forward. The journey to the basement is a blur of terror and disbelief. Your mind races, desperately seeking a way out of this nightmare.

In the dank cellar, Yurovsky instructs your family to line up against the wall. You find yourself between your younger siblings, instinctively trying to shield them even as your own knees threaten to give out.

“Wait,” you cry out as Yurovsky raises his hand to signal the firing squad. “Please, spare the children at least. They’re innocent in all this!”

Yurovsky’s face remains impassive. “There can be no Romanov heirs left to rally around. The old regime must end here and now.”

You turn to Lando, making one last desperate appeal. “Lando, please. If what we had meant anything to you, don’t let this happen. Help us!”

For a moment, you see the Lando you knew — the passionate young man who spoke of creating a better world, who held you under the stars and whispered promises of a future together. But then the revolutionary mask slips back into place.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely audible. “But this is bigger than us.”

As the soldiers raise their weapons, time seems to slow. You think of all the lives you might have lived — the futures now forever lost to you. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you, as if you’ve faced death with Lando before.

“Ready!” Yurovsky’s voice cuts through your reverie.

You straighten your spine, determined to face your end with dignity. Your eyes find Lando’s one last time.

“Aim!”

“I forgive you,” you mouth silently, even as tears stream down your face.

You see Lando’s composure crack, anguish flooding his features. He takes a half-step forward, as if to intervene, but it’s too late.

“Fire!”

The basement erupts in a deafening cacophony of gunshots and screams. You feel a searing pain in your chest as bullets tear through you. As you crumple to the ground, your fading vision fixates on Lando’s horrified face.

With your last breath, you whisper, “Find me again.”

Then darkness claims you.

Lando stands frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from your lifeless form. The smokey smell of gunpowder mixes with the metallic scent of blood, turning his stomach.

“Finish them off,” Yurovsky orders dispassionately. “No survivors.”

As his comrades move forward with bayonets, Lando stumbles back, retching. He staggers up the stairs and out into the cool night air, gulping it down desperately.

What has he done?

He’d believed so fervently in the revolution, in the need to sweep away the old order to build a better world. But staring at his blood-stained hands, Lando feels nothing but horror and soul-crushing guilt.

Your final words haunt him. “Find me again.” But how can he, when he’s destroyed any chance of a future together?

As dawn breaks over Yekaterinburg, Lando makes a decision. He can’t undo what’s been done, but he can ensure the truth isn’t buried along with your body.

Over the coming weeks, as the Bolsheviks spread lies about your family’s fate, Lando works in secret to document what really happened. He gathers evidence, writes detailed accounts, and arranges for the information to be smuggled out of the country.

It’s a dangerous game. If caught, he’ll be branded a traitor to the revolution. But Lando no longer cares about ideology or politics. His only goal is to honor your memory and ensure that history remembers the truth.

Late one night, as he prepares to flee the country with his damning documents, Lando allows himself a moment of quiet reflection. He thinks of your smile, your compassion, the way you challenged him to see beyond his rigid beliefs.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to the empty room. “I failed you in this life. But I swear, somehow, I’ll make it right. If there’s any justice in the universe, we’ll meet again. And next time, I’ll protect you. I’ll choose you over everything else.”

As he slips out into the night, Lando feels a strange sense of certainty. This isn’t the end of your story. Somehow, someway, you’ll find each other again.

The wheel of fate continues to turn, carrying your intertwined souls towards yet another lifetime. But with each cycle, the bond between you grows stronger. Perhaps next time, you’ll finally break free of this tragic pattern and find the happiness that’s eluded you for so long.

Jonestown, 1978

The humid Guyanese air hangs heavy over Jonestown, thick with tension and the cloying scent of tropical flowers. You stand among the gathered crowd, your heart pounding so hard you fear it might burst from your chest. Beside you, Lando’s hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.

“This isn’t right,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the droning speech coming from the pavilion. “We need to get out of here.”

You nod imperceptibly, not daring to speak. Jim Jones’ paranoid ravings have reached a fever pitch in recent days, and you both know that even the slightest hint of dissent could be deadly.

“My children,” Jones’ voice booms out over the loudspeakers, “the time has come for us to make our final stand against the oppressors who seek to destroy our paradise.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd. You scan the sea of faces, seeing a mix of blind devotion and barely concealed terror.

“Our Congressional visitors have betrayed us,” Jones continues, his words slurring slightly. “They will bring nothing but destruction. We have no choice but to enact our glorious revolutionary suicide.”

Your blood runs cold. You’d heard whispers of this plan, but had desperately hoped it was just another of Jones’ manipulative tactics.

“Lando,” you whisper urgently, “we have to run. Now.”

He nods, his face pale but determined. “Follow my lead. When I give the signal, we make a break for the jungle.”

But before you can move, you feel a vice-like grip on your arm. You turn to see your mother, her eyes wild with fervor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She hisses. “This is our moment of triumph. You will not ruin it with your lack of faith.”

On Lando’s other side, his father has a similar hold on him. The older man’s face is a mask of grim resignation. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, son,” he says quietly.

You watch in horror as Jones’ lieutenants begin distributing paper cups filled with a sinister purple liquid. The bitter almond smell of cyanide fills the air.

“No,” you breathe, struggling against your mother’s grip. “Mom, please. This is insanity. We don’t have to do this!”

But your pleas fall on deaf ears. Your mother’s grip only tightens as she accepts two cups from a passing aide.

“Drink,” she commands, thrusting one towards you.

You shake your head vehemently, clamping your mouth shut. Beside you, Lando is engaged in a similar struggle with his father.

“You can’t force us to do this!” Lando shouts, drawing the attention of nearby cult members. “This is murder!”

Jones’ voice cuts through the growing commotion. “Those who resist are traitors to our cause. They must be made to comply, for the good of all.”

Suddenly, you’re surrounded by a group of Jones’ most fanatical followers. Rough hands grab you, forcing your head back. You struggle wildly, but it’s no use. You feel the cold rim of the cup pressed against your lips.

“No!” Lando cries out, fighting to reach you. “Leave her alone!”

But he too is overwhelmed, multiple hands restraining him as the poisoned drink is forced upon him.

The sickly-sweet liquid burns your throat as it’s poured into your mouth. You choke and splutter, but can’t prevent some of it from going down. Beside you, Lando’s muffled cries tell you he’s suffering the same fate.

As the hands release you, you collapse to your knees, coughing violently. Your vision swims, the world taking on a surreal, nightmarish quality.

“Lando,” you gasp, reaching out blindly.

His hand finds yours, gripping it weakly. “I’m here,” he manages, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”

You crawl closer, fighting against the growing weakness in your limbs. All around, people are collapsing, some screaming in agony while others slip away in eerie silence.

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, cupping Lando’s face with a trembling hand. “We never stood a chance against this madness.”

Lando’s eyes, clouded with pain, meet yours. “This can’t be how it ends,” he says desperately. “Not again.”

A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. “Again?” You murmur, confused.

He nods weakly. “I don’t know how, but I feel like we’ve been here before. Facing death together, unable to stop it.”

As the poison works its way through your system, flashes of other lives flicker through your mind. Ancient Egypt, Pompeii, Salem, Russia — each time, finding each other only to be torn apart.

“I remember,” you breathe, wonder mingling with the pain. “We keep finding each other, but we never get our happy ending.”

Lando pulls you closer, both of you shaking with the effort of fighting off the inevitable. “Next time,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “Next time we’ll break this cycle. We’ll find a way to be together.”

You manage a small, sad smile. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he murmurs, pressing a weak kiss to your forehead.

As consciousness begins to slip away, you cling to each other. The sounds of screaming and Jones’ maniacal laughter fade into the background. In these final moments, there is only you and Lando, and the love that has somehow endured across lifetimes.

“Find me again,” you whisper, echoing words spoken in another life.

Lando’s grip on your hand tightens fractionally. “Always,” he breathes.

As darkness closes in, you’re filled with a strange sense of hope. This tragic cycle can’t go on forever. Someday, somehow, you’ll find a way to break free and finally have the life together you’ve been denied so many times.

Your last thought, as you slip away, is a prayer to whatever cosmic force keeps bringing you together.

Next time, let it be different.

Next time, let us live.

And as your souls depart this tragic scene, unseen wheels of fate begin to turn once more. The cycle continues, but perhaps this time, with the weight of so many shared lifetimes behind you, you’ll finally find your way to a happier ending.

In the years that follow, as the horror of Jonestown is revealed to the world, two names are lost among the hundreds of victims. But your story — the story of a love that refuses to be extinguished — lives on, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.

Monaco, 2024

The soft glow of computer screens illuminates Lando’s face as he leans into his microphone, his eyes darting between the chat and his game. “No, chat, I’m not going to sing the Baby Shark song,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You lot are absolutely mental, you know that?”

The door to his streaming room creaks open, and he glances over, his face softening into a warm smile as you pad in, wrapped in an oversized hoodie you’ve stolen from his wardrobe.

“Speaking of sharks,” Lando grins, addressing his audience, “look who’s decided to join us. It’s my favorite cuddly shark!”

You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, a reference to your habit of playfully nipping at his shoulder when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. As you approach, Lando pushes his chair back slightly, making room for you to settle onto his lap.

“Come here, you,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist as you curl into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. To his stream, he explains, “Sorry chat, the missus is feeling a bit clingy tonight. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

You mumble something unintelligible into his skin, making him laugh. “What was that, love? The stream can’t hear you when you’re trying to become one with my neck.”

Lifting your head slightly, you repeat, “I said, don’t let me interrupt your gaming. I just wanted cuddles.”

Lando presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re never an interruption. Besides, I think the chat’s been asking for a cameo from you all night.”

You turn to face the camera, waving sleepily. “Hi, chat. Sorry I’m not more entertaining tonight. Long day at work.”

The chat explodes with greetings and well-wishes, scrolling by almost too fast to read. Lando chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze. “See? They love you. Probably more than they love me, to be honest.”

“That’s fair,” you murmur, nuzzling back into his neck. “No one loves you more than I do.”

Lando’s breath catches for a moment, and you feel his heart rate pick up. Even after all this time together, simple declarations of love still affect him deeply. It’s one of the many things you adore about him.

“Alright, chat,” Lando says, his voice a touch huskier than before. “You’ve gone and made her all sappy. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.”

You can’t help but giggle at his attempt to deflect. “Oh please, you love it when I’m sappy.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with a grin. “But if I admit that, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”

You snort inelegantly. “What reputation? Everyone knows you’re a big softie.”

“Oi!” Lando protests, poking you in the side and making you squirm. “I’ll have you know I’m very tough and manly. Right, chat?”

The stream erupts with a mix of agreement and playful disagreement, peppered with emotes and inside jokes. You watch the scrolling text with amusement, marveling at the community Lando has built.

“See?” Lando says triumphantly. “They agree with me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure at least half of those messages were sarcastic, babe.”

Lando waves a hand dismissively. “Details, details. The point is, I’m incredibly macho and not at all a softie.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. “Is that why you cried watching Up last week?”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims, his cheeks flushing slightly. “That’s classified information, that is. You can’t just go revealing my secrets to the entire internet!”

The chat goes wild at this revelation, demanding to know more about Lando’s movie-watching habits. You can’t help but laugh at his mock-outraged expression.

“Sorry, love,” you say, not sounding sorry at all. “But if I have to put up with your sniffling during Disney movies, the least I can do is share the joy with your fans.”

Lando groans dramatically. “That’s it, I’m filing for divorce. Chat, you’re my witnesses. This is grounds for divorce, right? Revealing a man’s most intimate vulnerabilities?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “We’re not even married yet, you goof.”

The words slip out before you can think better of them, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifts. Lando’s eyes widen slightly, his gaze locking with yours.

“Yet?” He repeats softly, a note of wonder in his voice.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don’t look away. “Well, yeah. I mean, unless you had other plans?”

For a moment, Lando seems to forget entirely about the stream. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. “No other plans,” he murmurs. “Just you. Always you.”

The intimacy of the moment is broken by the chat exploding once again, this time with a flurry of ring emotes and excited keysmashes. Lando blinks, seeming to remember where he is.

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, chat, I think that’s my cue to end the stream for tonight. Got some, uh, important things to discuss with this one.”

You bury your face in his neck again, half embarrassed and half thrilled by the turn of events. As Lando rushes through his usual sign-off, you can feel the barely contained energy thrumming through him.

The moment the stream ends, Lando spins his chair to face you fully, his eyes bright with excitement. “Did you mean that?” He asks eagerly. “About the marriage thing?”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course I did. Lando, I’ve loved you for lifetimes. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you.”

Something flashes in his eyes at your words — a fleeting moment of recognition, as if some long-buried memory is struggling to surface. But then it’s gone, replaced by pure joy.

“Lifetimes, huh?” He grins, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I suppose we better make this one count.”

As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of rightness. After so many tragic endings, you’ve finally found your happily ever after. And this time, you’re not letting go.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips. “In this life and every other.”

Lando’s answering smile is radiant. “And I love you. Always have, always will.”

As you lose yourselves in each other’s embrace, the echoes of past lives fade away. This is your time, your chance at happiness. And you plan to make the most of every single moment.

[xoamiiren]

MOONSTRUCK , ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 crazy over you

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, sunghoon’s feelings for you start to feel like more than he can handle… PAIRING. smitten!sunghoon x tipsy!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, mentions of drinking

authors note ୨୧ I have nothing to say. get into it hoon!

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You were… tipsy. Sunghoon knew that much. The proof was in the flush that colored your cheeks, a vivid contrast against your bonze-toned skin.

Despite the alcohol in both your systems, it didn’t take away from the fact that his mind was reeling.

The two of you had been in attendance for Jake’s birthday trip. A small , cozy gathering at his grandparent’s lakehouse for the weekend.

After a day filled with laughter, games, and a few drinks, the group had winded down for the night.

It was late, and you and Sunghoon were the last ones still awake, sitting on the porch talking under a shared fluffy blanket. It was nice… comforting. Just the two you, sharing quiet laughs and whispered stories under the stars.

But, Sunghoon couldn’t defy the nagging urge at the back of his mind to tell you. Tell you he was in love with you, so in love that it hurt.

It had started to get chilly, and with the others already asleep, you had both decided to move inside to a guest room with two twin beds—it was the only available space left.

Too relaxed to worry about where else to go, you agreed to take up the two beds, facing each other with drowsy eyes and lingering smiles.

As time passed, still laying in silence, Sunghoon couldn’t help but begin to toss and turn with the intention of sleep. The silence that was strangely comforting before, had started to become deafening, heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Sunghoon rolled over to face you, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you blinking slowly, eyes glazed over yet intensely focused on him.

“You know…” His voice broke the silence, low and hesitant, almost drowned by the pounding of his own heart.

“Hm?” Your eyebrows arched, your gaze still locked on his, those large, innocent eyes piercing through the darkness.

“It’s… it’s nothing.” The courage he had mustered slipped away like sand through his fingers.

“What…?” your voice was soft, the edges frayed with weariness.

“I… really, it’s nothing.”

The silence returned, thicker this time, a suffocating blanket that wrapped around you both.

“Can you sleep now…? Are you sleepy…?” he murmured, voice hushed as though even in the solitude, someone might overhear.

“Mm…” you nodded, pushing yourself up to a sitting position, rubbing your eyes with a pout that made his heart tighten.

“I think I’ll sleep there.”

Sunghoon’s heart skipped a beat, then raced ahead as you slipped from your bed and into his own with a graceful clumsiness that only you could achieve.

When you landed with a soft thud, your noses were mere inches apart, your hushed giggles mingling with his own chuckles as you adjusted yourself under the covers, and rolled over so your back was pressing against his chest.

Warmth flooded Sunghoon’s senses, as if the bed weren’t already small enough. He prayed you could feel the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat against your back…

Feel how fast it was racing. How honest would that be?

You were so warm…

“Use my arm as a pillow…” he offered, his voice barely a whisper as you lifted your head to rest on his arm.

“Why…?” you asked, your voice a breathy murmur.

“So we can be closer…” he answered, the words tumbling out in a rush, his heart still pounding.

You stayed like that, the quiet punctuated only by the sound of your breathing, soft and steady. You shifted again, clearly in discomfort, and a breathy chuckle escaped Sunghoon’s lips.

“Why didn’t you bring your pillow over…?” he teased, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you.

You glanced dismissively at the abandoned pillow on your abandoned bed before your gaze snapped back to him, piercing him to the core.

Your glassy eyes glittered under the moonlight streaming in through the window, long lashes casting delicate shadows on your flushed cheeks as you blinked slowly.

You were… breathtaking. Sunghoon’s heart constricted painfully at the sight of you.

Slowly, you reached up to smooth down your own bedhead, and without thinking, Sunghoon followed suit, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with trembling fingers.

Your eyes never wavered from his, tracing his every feature, studying him with an intensity that left him breathless.

What were you thinking? He could never tell, and as of right now… he was desperate.

You blinked slowly, your lips parting as you finally broke the thickening silence.

“Is this… not a good idea?” your voice was soft, laced with innocence yet tinged with a challenge, your doe eyes searching his own for an answer.

“No…” His voice was hoarse, his throat dry, but he kept his gaze steady on yours.

“It’s good.” He added, pulling the comforter snugly around you both.

“Hm?” you hummed, your eyebrows lifting ever so slightly in curiosity.

“It’s definitely good…” he repeated, his words barely more than a breath.

You smiled then, a fleeting, gentle curve of your lips before your expression softened once more, your eyes large and unblinking.

Sunghoon fought to contain himself, the air between them thick with tension, every innocent thought he tried to hold onto slipping away. God, you were divine.

So pretty, it hurt.

You pulled the covers tighter around your chest, your hands disappearing beneath them. Just then, Sunghoon could feel your cool, slender fingers intertwining with his.

The touch seemed almost electric, almost overwhelming, as you slowly and carefully guided his hand down the length of your body, the soft fabric of your sleep shirt barely a barrier to the heat of your skin, which felt like a burn the moment you guided his hand beneath it.

His heart thundered in his chest, anticipation and desire warring within him, but he never broke eye contact.

Your gaze dared him, testing his resolve with a demure boldness that sent shivers down his spine.

His breath caught as your hand guided his lower, fingers brushing the waistband of your shorts. He watched your expression shift ever so subtly, your lips falling open the slightest bit more, your eyes darkening with something he couldn’t quite name, and yet the innocence remained.

Your head tilted back faintly, almost in a pleading nod when he pressed his fingers down to apply pressure, his palm settling on your lower belly. 

Feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his touch, the tension in the air was almost unbearable.

Finally, Sunghoon tore his gaze from yours, letting out a shaky breath as his head fell back onto the pillow you now shared, his hand slipping from your grasp.

You watched him, silent, your chest rising and falling with a matching intensity.

You were nervous, scared…? Excited?

Sunghoon raked a hand through his hair, a pained laugh escaping his lips as he groaned in frustration, draping a heavy arm across your waist.

“(Y/n)…” he whispered, your name like a prayer on his lips.

The bashful grin on his face failed to go away, he could feel the warmth of a fresh blush dancing across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears.

You said nothing, simply turning your head away and closing your eyes, seeking solace in sleep, an escape from the tension threatening to suffocate you both.

Sunghoon lay still, staring into the dimness of the room, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

He tugged at the covers, fidgeting restlessly, squeezing his eyes shut in a desperate bid for sleep.

But the racing of his heart wouldn’t let him rest.

He sat up once more, needing air, needing water, needing…

And then, your eyes fluttered open as you looked up at him again. Without a word, you grabbed his chin, pulling him down into a kiss that stole his breath away.

Sunghoon’s heart nearly exploded, a small sound of surprise catching in his throat as he melted into the kiss, your soft hum of pleasure reverberating through him.

Suddenly you shifted, and it was Sunghoon lying on his back, your lips never leaving his until you broke away, straddling him with careful, deliberate movements, as if afraid of causing him harm.

His heart swelled with emotion as he gazed up at you, completely captivated by the girl who had just turned his world upside down.

“Did I keep you waiting…?” you whisper, expression filled with worry despite your rose dusted cheeks.

“So long… I waited so long.”, Sunghoon teased, squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs as you giggled softly and captured his lips again.

[deansbeer]

✷ ◟ ECHOES OF DESIRE ৎ᠀

library introduction minors do NOT interact!

SYNOPSIS. you never expected to hear dean's thoughts this clearly—especially not when they're about you in the most unexpected way.

WARNING(S). mentions of masturbation | f!reader | overwhelming thoughts | telepathy | physical sensations triggered by another person's thoughts | heavy unresolved romantic/sexual tension | mutual pining | awkwardness | emotional vulnerability | telepath!reader | older!dean | reader is in her mid twenties | light jealousy (man gets jealous of a bunny. wild, huh? believe me, i know.) | tension-filled misunderstandings | new unexplained ability reader develops.

KARI'S NOTES. ignore the fact that my blog is a mess of things & i've changed the layout for my fics many times :) can this also be considered an early bday gift for dean ??? i have a lil something planned for his special day but idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ this is somewhat cutesy ig lol + tiny disclaimer <3 the photos above r used solely for aesthetic purposes !!!!

it's late in the bunker—the kind of silence that feels heavy, pressing against your ears as you sit alone in the library. sam and dean have both retreated to their rooms for the night, finally giving in to the exhaustion that comes with long hunts and endless research. but you? you're wide awake, as usual, hunched over a pile of lore books with your bunny, bolt, nibbling on hay in a little pile you set out for him. the faint sound of his chewing and the occasional rustle of paper are the only things breaking the stillness.

you pop another blue peanut m&m into your mouth, the faint crunch grounding you as your eyes scan the faded text in front of you. you're so close—so damn close—to deciphering the last piece of this puzzle for their next case. you can feel it right there, just out of reach, the answer dancing at the edge of your mind.

but then, like a radio station suddenly switching frequencies, you hear it.

someone's thoughts.

you pause mid-bite, your jaw tightening as you inwardly groan. who the hell is thinking this loud so late at night?

it's not unusual for you to pick up on stray thoughts; it's part of being a telepath. but this? this is loud. intrusive. like someone shouting directly into your brain. you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to block it out, to focus on the task at hand. you've gotten good at tuning people out over the years, but some thoughts are harder to ignore than others.

you shake your head, turning the page of the lore book in front of you, determined to push through the distraction. but the thoughts don't stop. they keep coming, louder and more insistent, like waves crashing against the shore.

and then you realize something.

these thoughts… they're familiar.

at first, you think it's sam. he has a tendency to overthink even in his sleep, his dreams sometimes bleeding into his waking thoughts. but no, this isn't sam. his mind is quiet, the kind of stillness that comes with deep, dreamless sleep.

it has to be dean.

your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat as the realization settles in.

dean.

you grip the edge of the table, your fingers curling tightly around the wood as his thoughts flood your mind. he's begging. it's desperate, raw, like he's pleading for something he can't have. but it's not just his words—his emotions are pouring through, too, overwhelming you with their intensity.

your chest tightens, your heartbeat quickening to match his. there's a strange knot forming in your lower abdomen, a heat that spreads through your body, and you have to clutch at your stomach to steady yourself. biting down on your bottom lip, you try to hold back the whimper threatening to escape.

he's calling your name. not out loud, but in his mind. over and over, like a prayer.

and then it happens—something that's never happened to you before.

you see through his eyes.

for a moment, you're no longer in the library. you're somewhere else entirely, looking through dean's gaze as he lies in bed. your breath hitches as you take in the scene before you: his hand, moving with a rough, almost frantic rhythm over himself, and in the other hand?

a polaroid.

your polaroid.

it's a picture he took of you during one of your outings, the sunlight making your skin glow as you posed for a photo. you remember the moment vividly—how he insisted on taking the photo despite your protests, how he teased you about how good you looked in your little dress.

and now he's using it.

you let out a tiny gasp, the sound startling bolt, who looks up at you with wide, curious eyes. you're back in the library now, your cheeks burning as you try to process what you just saw.

dean. was. masturbating. to. your. photo.

you shake your head, trying to banish the image from your mind, but it's too late. it's seared into your memory, the raw need in his thoughts still lingering like an echo.

you don't get much sleep after that.

the next morning, you're in the kitchen, trying to shake off the haze from the night before. bolt sits at your feet, munching on his breakfast as you make yourself a cup of coffee. you're dressed in one of your favorite nightgowns, a tiny blue satin thing with lace trimming, paired with a matching silk robe. it's comfortable, soft against your skin, and you don't think much about it as you move around the kitchen.

you're lost in thought, replaying everything from the night before, when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. you turn, startled, and there he is.

dean.

he's rubbing his tired eyes, his hair sticking up in every direction, and his t-shirt clings to his chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare. he doesn't say anything at first, just grunts in acknowledgment as he heads for the coffee pot, but you can feel the tension radiating off him.

"morning," you say, your voice light, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

"mornin'," he mutters, his voice rough with sleep.

you take a seat at the table, bolt hopping onto your lap as you sip your coffee. dean follows a moment later, his eyes flicking to the bunny and then to you.

"does he have to sit on your lap?" he grumbles, though the jealousy in his thoughts is loud and clear.

you can't help but smirk. "why are you so jealous of a bunny?”

his eyes narrow, and he shoots you a pointed look. "stay out of my head, sweetheart."

but you're not about to let him off that easily. setting your coffee down, you lean forward slightly, your gaze locking onto his.

"how come you were begging for me last night?"

he freezes, his jaw tightening as his eyes widen. for a moment, he looks like a deer caught in headlights, and you almost feel bad for him. almost.

"i don't know what you're talkin' about," he says quickly, his voice stiff as he avoids your gaze.

you frown, not buying his act for a second. "dean."

he tries to deflect, asking you something about the research you were doing last night, but you're not letting this go.

"don't lie to me," you say softly, your voice firm. "i know what i heard. i know what i felt."

his cheeks flush, a rare sight that only makes you more determined. but DEAN WINCHESTER is nothing if not stubborn, and he's not about to admit what you already know.

two idiots in love, too afraid to take the leap.

and yet, the truth lingers in the air between you, unspoken but undeniable.

SPECIAL TAGS. @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @fallbhind @beausling @figthoughts @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @lustagel @rafespreciosa @jasvtsc @voidsuites @t3l3vangelism . . . ☆

[jmliebert]

♡ halsin longing for you (your scent makes him forget himself) ♡

I got inspired by the lovely image by @daichouno and I thought I'll share it here... along with my little interpretation

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

He knew it was wrong, knew he shouldn't, but the urge was overwhelming, almost primal.

The thought was fleeting as he stepped closer, the smell of dirty clothes mingling with the earthy scent of the forest. His keen senses picked up a faint, familiar fragrance, and his heart skipped a beat. Buried beneath the mundane fabrics was something that belonged to Tav, something that carried her intoxicating scent.

With a swift, almost guilty glance around the camp, Halsin reached into the basket and pulled out a pair of Tav's panties. He could already feel his cock stirring, the anticipation making his blood run hot. Clutching the delicate fabric in his large hands, he made his way back to his tent.

Then he sank to his knees, the panties held reverently before him. He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, the musky, sweet scent of Tav filling his lungs. His eyes fluttered closed as a low growl rumbled in his chest. His cock twitched in response, hardening further with each breath he took. His knees got weak.

I’m too old for this

The thought was laughable as he nuzzled the soft fabric, his age irrelevant in the face of such desire. He was over 350 years old, a seasoned druid with countless lovers in his past, yet none had ever made him feel this way. None had ever driven him to such desperate, feral need.

Every touch, every accidental brush of Tav’s skin against his, sent jolts of electric pleasure through him. Sitting side by side by the campfire, their knees touching, made him stiffen, his skin prickle with longing. He wanted more than just the camaraderie of shared meals and stories. He wanted to possess her, to claim her as his own. But he couldn’t. Not now.

His tongue flicked out, hesitantly at first, tasting the fabric where her essence lingered, where Tav's sweet pussy touched it. The salty, slightly sweet taste made him groan, and he licked it again, taking a long stroke this time. His mind went blank, consumed by the sensory overload of their scent and taste.

so delicious...

The thought reverberated through his mind as he pressed the panties to his lips, his breaths becoming shallow and ragged. His cock throbbed painfully, leaking precum as he reached down to grasp it. He began to stroke himself slowly, the friction sending shivers of pleasure up his spine. He shut his eyes close and with brows furrowed he imagined Tav beneath him, imagined her soft moans and gasps as he took her. His hips moving with need.

His knot began to swell, his climax near. Halsin’s strokes became more urgent, more forceful, his hips thrusting into his hand. He could see it so clearly in his mind – Tav's eyes wide with surprise and pleasure, their body trembling beneath him as he filled her completely.

As his release approached, he guided his swollen cockhead to the panties. With a final, powerful thrust, he came, his hot seed spilling onto the place he had licked so thoroughly. He grunted, his breath coming in harsh pants as he milked his cock, ensuring every drop of his cum marked the cloth.

His other hand tightened around his knot, the sensation almost too much to bear. Finally, spent and sated, Halsin laid down on his back, the panties still clutched in his hand and soaking wet. Their scents mixing on them, giving Halsin strange sense of comfort.

At least for now.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about halsin ♡here♡

the image I posted belong to @daichouno (!) go to their account and give them some love because omg what an artist

[hanniewho]

⋆˚࿔I'll meet your eyes, I mean this forever 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ Summary: You're feeling insecure about your body, and Vi found out about it and helped you to feel loved and desired.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Notes: I should make a tagliatelle sp I could tag yall and I take the title from a song called demolition lovers. I love it sm bro oh and yes I switch the colors of my acc bcos why not

𐙚˙✧˖° Words: 6.1k

༘ ⋆｡ ˚ Warnings: Comfort sex, Cunnilungus (r receiving), Fingering (r receiving), Squirting, Body worshipping, Mention of porn, Using vibrator, Strap-on mentioned.

⋆✦ Pairings: Vi x Afab reader

You were standing in front of the full-length mirror in your shared bedroom, scrutinizing your reflection with a critical eye. The soft glow of the evening light cast a warm, comforting hue over your rounded curves and the way your favorite shirt clung gently to your frame. Your hand traced the line of your waist, pausing briefly to tug at the fabric that had grown snug over your belly. It wasn't something you dwelt on often, but tonight, you found yourself wishing you felt a bit more...desirable.

Vi, your girlfriend, barged in without knocking, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She had a knack for sensing your moods, and she could tell that something was on your mind. "What's up, cupcake?" she teased, tossing her headphones onto the bed.

You spun around, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. "It's nothing," you mumbled, trying to brush off your insecurity. But Vi knew you better than that. She stepped closer, her gaze softening as she took in the way you held yourself. "You know you're beautiful, right?" she said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Her touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the fierce exterior she often presented to the world. "But I...I just don't look like the girls you usually go for," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You had always envied the lean, athletic figures that Vi was drawn to.

Vi's smile grew, a hint of mischief sparkling in her eyes. "Is that what you think?" she asked, her hand sliding down to grip your waist. "You're perfect just the way you are," she murmured, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies. You could feel the warmth radiating from her, and your heart skipped a beat.

Her touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, making you acutely aware of every sensation. You looked up into her eyes, searching for any sign of mockery, but all you saw was sincerity and desire. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen, trying to process what was happening.

Then, before you could overthink it, you leaned into her embrace. Vi's arms tightened around you, and she kissed you, her lips pressing firmly against yours. It was a kiss that spoke of passion and longing, a kiss that told you she had felt this way for a long time. Your hands found their way to her back, exploring the muscles beneath her shirt as she deepened the kiss. You felt a strange mix of excitement and comfort, a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time.

You broke away to catch your breath, staring at her in disbelief. "Does this mean..." you started, but Vi cut you off with another kiss, more urgent than the last. "It means I've wanted you for as long as I can remember," she murmured against your lips.

Her words sent a thrill through you, and you wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer. Vi's hands roamed over your body, tracing the contours of your hips and thighs. You felt a warmth spread through you, and suddenly, all your insecurities melted away. You were here, with Vi, and she wanted you.

The kiss grew more intense, your tongues tangling together as you explored the depths of each other's mouths. You could feel her excitement pressing into your stomach, and a matching heat began to build within you. Vi's hands began to unbutton your shirt, her touch growing more urgent. She peeled the fabric away, revealing the soft flesh beneath, and you shivered at the coolness of the air against your skin.

"Vi, wait," you managed to breathe, a hint of panic lacing your voice. You tried to cover yourself with your arms, suddenly aware of your vulnerability. But Vi just chuckled and gently pushed them aside, her eyes full of adoration. "You're so beautiful," she murmured, her voice husky with desire. "Don't hide from me."

Her words had a soothing effect, and you let your arms drop to your sides, allowing her to appreciate your body. Vi's gaze lingered on your chest, her pupils dilating as she took in the sight of your full breasts, the peaks of your nipples tight with anticipation. She reached out and cupped one gently, her thumb circling the sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You gasped, arching into her touch.

"Vi..." you whined, your voice thick with need. "I'm not..." but she didn't let you finish.

"Not what?" she asked, her voice low and seductive as she leaned down to kiss your neck, her breath hot against your skin. "Not skinny? Not fit?" She paused, her teeth grazing your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. "You're perfect to me."

With a gentle nudge, Vi pushed you towards the bed, her strong hands guiding you until you were lying back on the soft mattress. Your heart pounded in your chest as she hovered over you, her eyes never leaving yours. She trailed kisses down your chest, her tongue flicking out to taste the salty sweetness of your skin. You felt your body respond, your breasts growing heavier, your nipples hardening further as she approached them.

When her mouth finally closed around one, you couldn't help the moan that escaped you. The sensation was exquisite, her teeth grazing lightly as she suckled. You tangled your fingers in her short hair, pulling slightly as the pleasure grew more intense. Vi's other hand found its way to your other breast, teasing and caressing in time with her mouth's rhythm.

You felt your body come alive under her touch, every inch of your skin begging for more. "Vi," you whispered, "please..." and she seemed to understand what you needed without words. She kissed her way down your stomach, her tongue tracing the lines of your belly, pausing at your navel to swirl around the sensitive dip. Your stomach quivered in response, your body growing wet with anticipation.

When she reached the waistband of your pants, Vi looked up at you with a question in her eyes. You nodded, giving her the permission she sought. With a deft hand, she unbuttoned them, sliding them down your legs with a gentle insistence. You were now exposed before her, feeling more vulnerable than ever, but also more alive than you had in a very long time.

"Vi, no," you protested, trying to sit up, but she held your arm firmly. "I wanna make you feel good too." The determination in your voice was clear. You didn't just want to be the recipient of her affections; you wanted to give back, to show her that you weren't just taking but also capable of giving pleasure.

Vi chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, cupcake," she said, her voice dropping to a low purr, "I want you to lay back and take what I give you. I want to show you how pretty you are." She pushed you gently down onto the bed, and you felt a strange mix of excitement and trepidation.

Her hands moved to the waistband of your panties, tugging them down slowly, inch by inch, her gaze never leaving yours. "Now spread those pretty legs for me, yeah?" she instructed, her voice a soft growl. You complied, feeling a thrill run through you as the cool air hit your exposed skin.

Vi's eyes raked over your thighs, her gaze lingering on the stretch marks that crisscrossed your skin, reminders of the battles your body had endured. But instead of seeing them as flaws, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to one, then another, trailing her lips over each line as if they were the most precious of treasures. The tender gesture brought tears to your eyes, and you felt a weight lift from your chest.

Her thumbs spread your legs wider, exposing your most intimate parts to her hungry gaze. You felt a blush creep up your neck, but Vi didn't seem to care about any of the things you were so self-conscious about. Her eyes were filled with a fiery passion that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. "You're so wet for me," she murmured, her voice thick with lust.

With a grin that was both playful and predatory, she leaned in and kissed your folds, her tongue darting out to taste your arousal. "Mmm," she hummed, "I wonder how gorgeous you're gonna look when you squirt." The thought sent a bolt of excitement through you, and your body responded with a jolt, your hips bucking upward. Vi chuckled, her breath hot against your skin.

Her mouth closed around your clit, her teeth grazing the sensitive nub as she began to suck, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You bit your lip to keep from screaming, your hands clutching at the bedcovers. Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. You had never felt this way before, so utterly consumed by desire.

Vi looked up at you, her eyes dark with lust, and murmured, "Let it out, baby, I wanna hear you." The sound of her voice, so confident and commanding, gave you the push you needed. You let go of the last of your inhibitions, arching your back and crying out as she worked her magic.

Her mouth was a masterpiece of pleasure, her tongue circling and flicking against your clit with an expertise that left you gasping for air. You felt the pressure building, your body coiling tighter and tighter with every passing second. Your eyes squeezed shut as you focused on the sensations, trying to hold on just a little longer, to savor every moment of this exquisite torment.

But the dam broke, and you shuddered, your thighs clamping around Vi's head as your orgasm washed over you. She didn't relent, continuing her ministrations as your body spasmed, riding the waves of pleasure until you collapsed, boneless, onto the bed.

Breathing heavily, you opened your eyes to find Vi looking up at you with a smug smile. "See?" she said, her voice smoky and satisfied. "Perfect."

You couldn't argue with that. Your body felt like it had been rewired, every nerve ending pulsing with new life. You watched as she licked her lips, tasting you, and the sight of it was almost too much to handle. Your thighs, which had been squeezing her head, relaxed, allowing her to sit up. She leaned over you, placing a gentle kiss on your belly, making you squirm with the lingering aftershocks of your climax.

"Hey, cupcake?" Vi asked, her voice a smoky purr that sent shivers down your spine. "Can I ask you a favor?" She had moved up the bed and was now straddling one of your legs, her weight pressing down on your thigh in a way that was both comforting and exciting.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "Anything," you managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Vi's grin grew even wider, and she scooted back on the bed, laying down and patting her face with her hands. "Sit on my face, pretty girl," she said, her voice low and filled with want.

You stared at her, your own desire battling with your shock and confusion. But the heat in her eyes was undeniable, and you felt your body respond, eager to explore this new side of your relationship. With trembling legs, you straddled her face, feeling the warmth of her breath on your inner thighs. You took a deep breath and lowered yourself onto her, her nose nestling in your folds.

Vi's mouth wasted no time, her tongue sliding over your swollen clit with a hunger that took you by surprise. You threw your head back and moaned, the sensation of her tongue lapping at you making you feel like you were floating. Her hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, urging you closer as she devoured you with a ferocity that was both thrilling and a little scary.

"Vi, no..." you whined, trying to push yourself up, but she was having none of it. Her arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you in place as her mouth worked its magic. You could feel yourself growing wetter with every flick of her tongue, and the sound of her smacking against your skin filled the room, making your face burn with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment.

Vi looked up at you, her eyes glazed with desire, and she pulled you down harder, forcing your plump cheeks to engulf her face completely. "Shh," she murmured against your flesh, her voice muffled but clear. "Just let me make you feel good." And with that, she buried her nose in your folds, inhaling deeply.

The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but let out a moan, the vibrations echoing through your core. Vi's tongue began to explore you, tracing the length of your slit before delving deeper, tasting every part of you. You felt her teeth graze your clit, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. "More," you moaned, your hips rocking gently against her face.

Her grip on your thighs tightened as she complied, her tongue swirling around your clit with a relentless rhythm that had you panting for breath. Your hands found their way to her hair, gripping tight as she worked you closer to the edge. The room was filled with the sound of your gasps and the wet noises of her mouth on your skin. It was carnally erotic, a symphony of passion that had your toes curling with every stroke.

Vi's tongue delved deeper, penetrating you with a gentle ease that made you realize just how much she knew your body. It was as if she had been waiting for this moment, studying every curve and dip, every spot that made you shiver with pleasure. You felt her teeth graze the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, biting down just hard enough to make you gasp. The mix of pleasure and pain was intoxicating, a heady cocktail that had your hips grinding against her face.

Her tongue found your G-spot, the slick muscle that sent bolts of ecstasy through your body. She flicked it, the sensation setting your nerves alight, making you tremble uncontrollably. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension in your belly tightening like a coil about to spring. "Vi, I'm...I'm going to...oh God," you panted, your voice shaking with need.

Vi's only response was to double her efforts, her tongue curling against that magical spot with a fervor that left you breathless. You felt yourself begin to spasm, your orgasm building like a crescendo. With a final, desperate cry, you shuddered, your body giving in to the waves of pleasure that washed over you. Vi's mouth remained on you, her tongue lapping up every drop of your release as if it was the sweetest nectar she had ever tasted.

Finally, she pulled away, her face glistening with your arousal. She licked her lips, a contented look in her eyes. "Mmm," she murmured, "you taste like heaven." The words sent a warm flush through you, making you feel more desired than you ever had before. You slumped down onto the bed, your legs quivering with the aftermath of your climax.

Vi climbed over you, her body straddling yours, and you could feel the warmth of her against your sensitive skin. She leaned down and captured your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss, sharing the taste of your passion with you. Her hands roamed over your curves, exploring every inch of your body as if it was a map she had been dying to uncover.

Her palms slid up your sides, cupping your breasts and kneading them gently, her thumbs circling your nipples until they were pebble-hard. You moaned into her mouth, the sensation of her touch sending shivers down your spine. Her hips rocked against yours, and you felt her own desire, her need pressing into you insistently.

Breaking the kiss, Vi reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head to reveal the taut muscles of her stomach and the firm mounds of her breasts. You couldn't help but stare, the sight of her bare skin making your heart race. "Like what you see?" she teased, her voice thick with desire.

You nodded, unable to form words as you took in the sight of her. Vi's body was a masterpiece of strength and power, a stark contrast to your softness. But in this moment, you didn't feel any less desirable. In fact, you felt more so, knowing that she wanted you just as much as you wanted her.

With trembling hands, you reached up to trace the lines of her abs, feeling the firm muscles beneath your fingertips. Vi's skin was hot to the touch, and she moaned as you touched her. You felt a thrill of power, knowing that you could affect her so deeply. Your hands moved to the button of her pants, and you fumbled with the clasp, eager to feel more of her.

But she had other ideas. With surprising gentleness, she pushed your hand away. "Relax, cupcake," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "Just lay down and enjoy the view." You obeyed, your body feeling heavy with need as you laid back on the pillows. Vi took your wrists in her hands, her grip firm but not unkind, and placed them above your head.

Her eyes never left yours as she unbuckled her pants, the sound of the zipper echoing through the room. She slid them off, revealing her own arousal, and you felt your own desire spike in response. She was so confident, so sure of herself, and it was incredibly arousing. She climbed back over you, her legs straddling your hips, and you couldn't help but stare at her.

Her pubic hair was a soft, downy mess against your skin, tickling you in the most sensitive of places, making you squirm with delight. It was a stark contrast to the bare, waxed girls you had seen in magazines and porn, and you found yourself fascinated by the way it felt. It was real, it was hers, and it was incredibly sexy.

Vi began to grind her pussy against yours, her clit rubbing against your own in a slow, deliberate motion that had your eyes rolling back in your head. The feeling was exquisite, a new form of pleasure that you hadn't experienced before. It was intimate and raw, and you felt a connection to her that went beyond just physical attraction.

Her hand slid down to your clit, her thumb pressing against it in time with her movements. You bucked your hips up, trying to increase the friction, and she chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Greedy," she murmured, her voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. She increased her pace, the slick sounds of your bodies moving together filling the room.

Your breathing grew ragged as the pressure built, your eyes locked on hers. You could see the desire in them, the hunger for more, and it only served to drive you closer to the edge. Her free hand trailed up your body, her fingers dancing over your skin before finding your right nipple. She pinched it lightly, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger, the sensation making you gasp.

Vi's movements grew more urgent, her hips moving faster as she rubbed against you. The heat between your legs was stifling, the scent of your arousal heavy in the air. You felt your body responding, your own wetness slick against her thighs, a testament to how much you wanted her. "Vi," you whimpered, your voice needy and desperate.

"Come for me, cupcake," she whispered, her eyes locked on yours. "I wanna see that pretty face of yours when you cum." Her words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your hands clenched the bedcovers, your knuckles white with the effort of holding back.

But the anticipation was too much, and with a final grind against her, you shattered. Your back arched, your eyes squeezed shut as pleasure washed over you in waves. Vi watched with a satisfied smile as your face contorted with ecstasy, her own desire growing with every whimper and gasp that escaped your lips.

"Yeah, like that, baby," she cooed, her voice thick with lust. "Oh, you're so pretty when you cum." The sound of her praise sent a warm glow through you, and you felt a newfound confidence in your body, in your ability to give and receive pleasure.

As the last of your orgasm subsided, Vi leaned down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss, sharing the taste of your arousal. Her tongue danced with yours, her body still moving against yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. You could feel her own need, the heat and wetness of her pussy grinding against yours, and it only served to stoke the fires of your desire once more.

Her hand slid from your wrists to your waist, her fingers digging into your flesh as she pulled herself closer. You felt the weight of her breasts pressing into your chest, the feeling sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through you. Your hands moved to her hips, holding her in place as she continued to rock against you.

"Vi," you whined, your voice filled with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion, "I just came-" But she didn't stop, her own hips bucking harder, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "I know, baby," she murmured against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. "But I need to feel you cum again."

With a wicked grin, she leaned down to whisper in your ear, her breath hot against your skin. "I will fuck you until you feel pretty," she said, her voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. "You got that, cupcake?" The promise in her words was like a drug, and you found yourself nodding, eager for more.

Vi's smile grew wider as she pecked the tip of your nose, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Good girl," she murmured, her voice a gentle caress. It was a simple act, one that was filled with affection and ownership, a silent declaration of her intent to cherish every part of you. It sent a thrill through your body, making you feel more alive than you ever had before.

Her movements grew more deliberate, her hips grinding against you in a rhythm that matched the beating of your heart. You could feel yourself getting wetter with every stroke, your body begging for more of her touch. "Please, Vi," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

Vi's smile grew wider as she leaned down, her eyes locked on yours. "Tell me what you want," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr that made you quiver. "Say it, baby."

You took a deep breath, feeling a blush creep over your cheeks. "I want...I want you to...to fuck me," you finally managed to say, the words feeling strange and powerful on your lips.

Vi's eyes darkened, and she gave you a predatory smile. "With what?" she asked, her voice a low rumble.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "With your...strap-on," you whispered, feeling a thrill of excitement and nerves.

Vi's smile grew even wider, if that was possible, and she leaned down to cup your face in her strong hands. "Baby," she murmured, her thumbs tracing over your cheekbones, "today, I just wanna worship you, not rearrange your organs. You deserve that, don't you?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. "But, Vi," you protested weakly, "I want you to feel good, too."

Vi's smile softened, and she leaned in to kiss you tenderly. "Trust me, I am," she murmured against your lips. "But tonight, it's all about you."

With surprising grace, she climbed off you, moving to the side of the bed. She rummaged through the nightstand drawer, her eyes glinting with excitement as she pulled out a velvety pouch. She turned to face you, holding it out like a treasure. "Let's see what we have here," she said, her voice filled with a playful tone.

You watched with bated breath as she unzipped the pouch, revealing an impressive collection of sex toys. Your eyes widened at the sight, a mix of curiosity and nerves swirling in your stomach. Vi noticed your expression and chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don't worry, cupcake," she said, "I've got just the right thing for you."

Her hand hovered over the collection before finally settling on a sleek, pink vibrator. "This one's my favorite," she murmured, turning it on. The buzzing filled the room, sending a shiver down your spine. She brought it closer to your ear, and you felt the vibrations tickle your skin. "It's got different settings," she explained, "so we can find one that makes you scream."

Vi positioned the toy at your entrance, her eyes never leaving yours. She slid it in gently, watching as your eyes widened with shock and pleasure. The vibrations were intense, sending waves of pleasure through you that made your toes curl. She began to move it in and out, the sensation making you feel like you were floating on a cloud of bliss.

"Is that good, baby?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern. You nodded, unable to form coherent words as she hit a spot inside you that made your vision swim. She twisted the vibrator, the sensations changing, and you gasped, your body tensing with the newfound ecstasy.

"Vi, mmmm, more," you whined, your voice needy and desperate. She chuckled, the sound sending another tremor through you. "Greedy little thing," she murmured, her thumb circling your clit as she pumped the toy in and out of you.

The vibrations grew stronger, and you felt your body responding, your hips lifting off the bed to meet each thrust. Vi's eyes never left yours, watching you intently as she worked the toy, her other hand playing with your breasts. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt your second climax approaching like a freight train.

With a gentle touch, she placed a hand on your plump stomach, pushing you back down onto the bed. "Ah, ah, ah, relax, cupcake," she cooed, her voice a sweet symphony of reassurance. You took a deep breath, feeling the mattress conform to your body as you allowed yourself to be held in place by her firm grip. Her fingers traced lazy circles over your belly, sending shivers through your body.

Vi's eyes never left yours as she continued to manipulate the vibrator, her thumb now playing with the sensitive bundle of nerves at your center. You could feel your orgasm building again, the pressure in your belly growing tighter with each pulse of the toy. "Vi, I...I think I'm gonna-" you began, but she shushed you, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Without warning, she leaned down, her mouth capturing one of your nipples. She sucked hard, the sensation making you gasp as she rolled the other between her thumb and forefinger. "Cum for me, cupcake," she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. "Let me feel you tighten around my toy."

Her words sent a fresh wave of desire crashing over you, and you felt your pussy clench around the vibrator in response. Vi's eyes grew darker, her movements more urgent as she watched your body react to her commands. She switched to the other nipple, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, making you arch your back.

"Vi, oh God, it's...it's too much," you moaned, your body on the brink of ecstasy. She chuckled, the vibrations increasing in intensity. "It's never too much, baby," she murmured, her eyes never leaving yours. "You can take it, I know you can."

Her words were like a command, and your body responded with a fervor that surprised even you. You felt the orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to consume you whole. Vi's hand worked in tandem with the toy, her thumb pressing down on your clit as the vibrations grew stronger. The combination was exquisite torture, and you couldn't help but moan louder, the sound echoing through the room.

The tension grew, coiling tighter and tighter until it was a live wire, ready to snap. Then, with a cry that was half-moan, half-scream, you came, your body spasming around the vibrator. Vi's eyes never left yours, watching with a look of pure satisfaction as your climax washed over you. The vibrator remained inside you, the sensations too much to handle, but you didn't ask her to stop. Instead, you clung to the edge of the bed, your knuckles white as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

Vi's movements grew more deliberate, her hand pumping the toy in and out of you with a rhythm that was almost mesmerizing. She switched the setting again, and the vibrations grew more intense, making you squirm under her touch. "Do you like that?" she murmured, her voice a gentle purr that only added to the eroticism of the moment.

You nodded, unable to speak as the pleasure grew. "Mm-hmm," you managed to get out, your voice barely a whisper. Vi chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Good girl," she praised, her thumb pressing harder against your clit. "You're doing so well."

Her hand moved the vibrator in a slow, deliberate pattern, the varying speeds and intensities making you feel like you were on the verge of a third orgasm. It was as if she was conducting your body's symphony of pleasure, and you were the instrument she played masterfully. Each pulse of the toy sent waves of ecstasy crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Vi leaned down to whisper in your ear, her hot breath sending shivers down your neck. "I want you to cum again, baby," she urged, her voice a seductive growl that sent a fresh jolt of arousal through your core. You nodded, eager to please her, eager for the next peak of pleasure. She increased the vibrations once more, the buzzing growing louder, more insistent.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as the sensations grew, the vibrator filling you completely, the vibrations resonating through your entire being. Vi's thumb never left your clit, the constant pressure driving you wild with need. You felt your body tense, the coil of pleasure in your belly tightening once again.

"Vi, I'm...I'm gonna...oh, please," you panted, your voice a desperate plea. Vi's grip on the vibrator grew firmer, her eyes locked on your face as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum for me, cupcake," she whispered, her voice a seductive promise. "Let go."

With a final, almost painful twist of the vibrator, your body obeyed, your muscles spasming around the toy as a gush of wetness spurted from your pussy. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever felt before, a sudden release that took you by surprise. Vi gasped as the warm fluid hit her face, her eyes going wide before she leaned back to watch the show, her mouth hanging open.

Tears streamed down your face, a mix of pleasure and pain as your body shuddered through the most intense orgasm of your life. Vi looked shocked, her eyes wide with amazement as she took in the sight of your face, contorted in ecstasy. She gently slid the vibrator out of you, setting it aside with trembling hands. The sudden absence of the intense vibrations left you feeling empty, but the pleasure still lingered, like an aftershock following an earthquake.

Vi leaned over, her eyes filled with concern as she studied your reaction. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle. You nodded, unable to find the words to describe the whirlwind of sensations that had just swept through you. She kissed you softly, her tongue tracing the contours of your mouth as you both caught your breath.

When the tremors had subsided, she pulled back, her eyes searching yours. "Was that...was that okay?" she asked, her voice filled with a vulnerability you hadn't heard from her before. You managed to give her a weak smile, the corners of your eyes still glistening with tears. "More than okay," you murmured, your voice hoarse.

Her expression softened, and she leaned down to kiss away your tears. Her touch was gentle, tender, as if you were made of the most fragile glass. You felt yourself melt into the kiss, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure. When she pulled away, she looked at you with something akin to awe. "You're so beautiful," she whispered, her thumbs tracing the curve of your cheekbones.

Vi's eyes roamed over your flushed body, taking in every detail of your curvy form. She leaned back, her hands sliding down to caress the soft flesh of your stomach. "You're perfect," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "So fucking perfect."

You felt your cheeks heat up, a mix of pride and disbelief at her words. "I'm not," you protested weakly, but she silenced you with a kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. "You're mine, cupcake," she whispered against your lips, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. "All of you."

Her strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into the warmth of her chest. You felt the steady beat of her heart against yours, the reassurance of her embrace seeping into your very soul. "I'll be damned if you say you're not pretty enough," she murmured, her voice a gentle rumble that made you melt into her. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Her words washed over you like a warm wave, filling you with a sense of belonging and acceptance you had never experienced before. Vi's confidence in your beauty was intoxicating, and you found yourself believing her. You allowed her to pull you closer, her fingers tracing patterns on your back as she kissed the top of your head.

Her hand moved lower, her palm cupping your ass, squeezing gently. "You know, I've always had a thing for a nice, round ass," she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper. You blushed, but instead of pulling away, you pushed back into her touch, feeling a thrill of desire at her words. It was as if she had found the key to unlock every inch of your body, making you crave her touch in ways you had never thought possible.

Vi's fingers began to knead, her touch firm and sure as she explored the softness of your curves. She leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "And next time," she said, her voice a promise, "I'll use the strap-on you like so much." The thought sent a bolt of arousal through you, and you couldn't help but moan at the thought. You felt a rush of wetness between your legs, your body already eager for the next round of pleasure she would give you.

Vi chuckled at your reaction, her grip tightening on your ass. "But for now," she said, her voice a gentle command, "I just want to hold you." You nodded, feeling the warmth of her body enveloping you. It was strange, but you felt more connected to her than you had ever felt to anyone else. Her acceptance of your body, her worship of it, had broken down the walls of self-consciousness that had plagued you for so long.

Her hands began to roam again, her fingers dancing over your skin as if it were the strings of a finely tuned instrument. She traced the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breasts. Each touch was a declaration of love, a silent promise to cherish and adore every inch of you. You felt yourself growing more and more relaxed, your body responding to her tender ministrations.

Vi leaned in, her breath warm against your cheek, and whispered, "I love you, cupcake." Her words were like a balm to your soul, soothing the ache of insecurity that had lingered there. You turned your head, your eyes meeting hers, and she captured your mouth in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of love and passion, a promise that she would never let you doubt your beauty again.

[shomatoriashi]

01/14/25; 09:20pm

sylus x fem.reader

obligatory tags: @voidsylus | @milkandstarlight | @madam8

a horror film was playing on sylus’s t.v., and the atmosphere of it was making your heart pound with anxious beats. as the protagonist explored the dimly lit mansion, you became aware of all the shifting shadows and strange whispers surrounding you.

you remain stiff while settled on the couch next to sylus, making the onychinus leader smirk with delight at your every reaction. with his arm loosely wrapped around your shoulder, he could feel your body tense up at every loud bang and crash that played throughout the movie.

practically relishing in your adorable reactions, sylus leans closer to whisper in your ear, “anxious, are we?”

he lets out a low chuckle when you jump in response to his murmured question, with you shooting him a weak glare, “i-i’m fine.” with a cute pout painting your expression, you let out a huff while folding your arms across your chest, earning a sigh from him.

“you don’t have to pretend to be brave when i’m around.” wrapping an arm around your abdomen, sylus purposely settles you on his lap, cocooning you within his gentle embrace while settling his chin against the top of your head, “i don’t mind protecting you from all the scary things that go bump in the night.”

you shiver while basking in his warmth, using his thick arms to hide behind as the movie continued. while the protagonist stood in the middle of a hallway, he saw a door slowly creep open. sylus keeps his gaze glued to the screen while whispering in your ear, “close your eyes.”

letting out a tiny whimper, you turn slightly and hid the entirety of your face within his chest, keeping your eyes clenched shut. as the protagonist opens the door, sylus tightens his embrace around you as a bloodied ghost of the murdered bride appears before the hero, trying to claw at his skin. the confrontation goes on for a few more minutes, with the hero managing to escape from the ghost by jumping into the balcony.

throughout the entire scene, sylus keeps you pressed against him, and only when it was finished did he softly call out your name. “little dove, the coast is clear. you can open your eyes now.” he waits several seconds for your response, only to frown when he was met with silence.

“sweetie?” he slowly unfurls his arms around you, looking down to see your cheek pressed against his chest, your breathing soft and even as evidence at how you had fallen asleep. rich chuckles of amusement escapes from his parted lips, with sylus’s heart filling with the utmost adoration for you at the sight.

“how cute, you fell asleep on me.” wrapping his arms tightly around your body once more, sylus continues to envelope you with the warmth of his embrace, ignoring the movie as he found the sight of your sleeping face to be far more entertaining.

end notes: a short, fluffy drabble with sylus since i’ve been watching lots of horror lately, and would love to have sylus comfort me during all the scary parts 🥹 ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[6:58 pm]

(cw: yeah it’s hurt with comfort babes)

For weeks now you’d been left with some kind of numb, bittersweet feeling stuck in your gut. You wanted to address it, of course you did, it was big news. However, every time you let your mind linger on the thought you felt sad and physically ill. It didn’t help that your time with him was so limited either. When he had time at home, he was catching up on sleep and trying to enjoy the time you had together, even if some days it was just breakfast together.

There was no avoiding it anymore. Now, it was just a couple of days away. His comeback commitments were done, he’s been taking more and more calls, and every second you spent around him made you want to cry. How were you just supposed to go from talking to him everyday to just a small window of time to talk to him? How were you supposed to get used to walking from one room to see him to just not having him there anymore?

The front door opened as you blinked your eyes to get rid of the tears. Jaehyun was back home from his top secret errand of the day. “Honey, I’m home,” he sings out playfully.

Your heart skips a beat as it usually when you hear Jaehyun’s voice, “I’m in the living room!”

You turn as you hear his footsteps and gasp when he comes into view. His hair is gone. His lovely, long blond locks are gone and he has a buzzed head. No hair. Bald. You will your brain to think of something to say but instead your throat tightens and your eyes get wet.

“Is it that bad?” Jaehyun awkwardly chuckles.

It’s as if his voice breaks the dam of all your bottled up emotions. You can’t stop the shake of your shoulders, your shuddered breaths, your tears, or any of the racing thoughts. How is he just going to be gone in 2 days?

Jaehyun comes over and pulls you into his hold while he rocks you back and forth while your tears stain the cotton of his shirt. “Love, you have to tell me what you’re feeling. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” he tells you in a calm voice.

“But you can’t help me! You won’t be here! For 2 years!” You exclaim through your tears.

“I thought it was a little strange you refused to talk about this,” Jaehyun hums, going quiet for a second to gather his thoughts. “I know whatever I say will be easier said than done, but just listen to me, alright? We’ve already done the long distance and weird hours haven’t we? How many times have I gone on tour and been a handful of time zones away? Countless, my love.”

“I’ll be back before you know it. We’ll be in the same country. I can take breaks to come see you. We still get to talk to each other. I’m not going to space,” Jaehyun smiles, swiping his thumbs under your eyes as your tears slow.

“It’s just,” your voice breaks, “I’m so used to having you home. I like having you home. Now, it’s going to be 2 years of not being able to walk down the hall and see you. Your body wash won’t go down, your clothes won’t move, I’ll have to choose dinner for myself, I have to go grocery shopping alone, I won’t have to sit through those random basketball games you play. I’m going to miss you!”

“You think I want to live with a bunch of random men for 2 years? I’m going to miss you too, my love. More than anything in the world. But I promise you, it’ll be more like I’m on tour. We’ve done it a bunch of times already. We know we can do this. Plus, it’s not like you’re going to leave me right? That ring on your finger isn’t for nothing.”

You stare at his fingers, twisting your engagement ring around your finger as you sniffle. You’re going to miss this too, “Don’t even joke about me leaving you. I wouldn’t have committed to you for over like 7 years now if I want in it for the long run.”

“Like 7 years,” Jaehyun scoffs playfully, “you mean 6 years, 6 months and 14 days?” He kisses your forehead, holding you impossibly close, “I committed too, this is only going to make us stronger. You’re actually going to be so sick of me. I wrote you all these little letters, I have deliveries scheduled, I pre bought you birthday and Christmas gifts even though I’ll be here for those. I’ll call you every chance I get. I promise you, my love.”

You snuggle closer to him, “you’re the best.”

“I know, alright. You can play with my hair now, I know you want to,” Jaehyun smiles.

Your open hand runs over the new, short hairs, “you look really handsome. I like it.”

“Haechan said I’m my head looked bigger.”

“Well, it’s a handsome big head.”

[n1ght0f-nyx]

woven bonds pt 3

pert'ah x fem reader

over the last few weeks of living with your arranged orc husband, you start to grow comfortable with him, curious about his culture

tags/warnings- arranged marriage, human female x male orc, gentle giant, your starting to develop feelings for big man

also feel free to request non-woven bonds related things that involve pert'ah or my other ocs (see my masterlist) i love writing for all these characters and seeing the mass of support ive gotten over the last month!

word count-1471

The forest around Pert'ah’s hut had started to feel familiar to you. The once oppressive canopy of trees, with their towering trunks and rustling leaves, now seemed to whisper secrets of their own, ancient and comforting. You spent more time outside, watching the way the sunlight filtered through the branches, how the world around you moved with a calm rhythm that you were only now starting to understand.

Pert'ah, as usual, worked diligently nearby, his large hands carefully guiding a bundle of thread through the wooden loom. The patterns he wove—so intricate, so delicate—fascinated you. Though you had watched him for weeks now, there was something different about the way you felt today. The walls you had built inside yourself, those walls of anger and sorrow, were beginning to erode. In their place was curiosity.

You found yourself wondering how he could create such beauty with hands that looked like they were made for something else entirely. You wondered about him, about his past, about the life he lived before you were forced into this arranged marriage. The thought of learning more made your heart beat a little faster.

Gathering your courage, you stepped closer to him.

“Pert’ah?” you asked quietly, watching as his broad shoulders tensed for just a second before he turned to look at you, his deep-set eyes widening slightly in surprise. You weren’t sure you had ever spoken his name with such softness before.

“Yes, [Name]?” he responded, his voice calm but filled with the kind of hope that made your chest tighten. His hands paused on the loom, waiting for what you had to say.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded toward the weaving. “Can you… can you teach me how to do that?”

For a brief moment, you worried that maybe your question was too sudden, that he wouldn’t want to share something so personal. But the way Pert’ah’s face lit up erased all your doubts. His smile was wide, his tusks just barely showing as his eyes softened with warmth.

“You want to learn?” he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and joy. He quickly stood up, brushing his hands on his simple tunic as if trying to prepare himself. “I teach! Yes, yes. Come sit.”

You moved to sit beside him, feeling a little self-conscious at first. His hands, so much larger than yours, gently guided your fingers to the loom, showing you how to thread the yarn through with care. He spoke softly, explaining the different colors and patterns orcs used, and how each design had a meaning tied to it—family, nature, strength. You could hear the pride in his voice as he spoke of orc culture, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the same resistance you once had.

As you worked together, your hands moving awkwardly through the motions he showed you, you found yourself laughing at your mistakes. Pert’ah chuckled beside you, his deep laugh resonating in your chest like a low rumble. There was no judgment in his gaze, only patience.

“You do good,” he said, nodding in approval as you finally managed to weave a few rows without getting tangled in the threads. “Better than first time I try.”

You grinned, feeling a strange sense of pride in his praise. “Thank you,” you said quietly, meeting his eyes. “I didn’t know weaving could be so… peaceful.”

He nodded. “It is. Make me feel calm. Like world slow down when I work. Orcs… we no always fight. We build. We make.”

You found yourself wanting to know more. The orcs had always been painted as brutish, war-hungry creatures in your world, but everything about Pert’ah contradicted that. He was an artist, a craftsman.

“Is that why you became a weaver?” you asked, genuinely curious now. “Because it brings you peace?”

Pert'ah tilted his head, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Yes. My father, he was warrior. Wanted me to fight too. But I no like it.” He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if remembering something. “I not good at hurting. I better at making things. I want to create, not destroy. So I leave fighting. I make my own path.”

There was something in the way he said that, a quiet strength, that resonated with you. He had chosen to go against the expectations of his people, to find his own place in the world, and that took a kind of bravery you hadn’t expected from him.

You found yourself smiling again, a small, genuine smile. “I think that’s… admirable,” you said softly, feeling warmth spread through your chest as you spoke. “You’ve built something beautiful here.”

Pert’ah’s eyes flickered with surprise at your words, and for a moment, you thought he might not know how to respond. But then, his expression softened, and he looked at you as though you had just given him a gift.

“I glad you see,” he said quietly, his voice full of emotion. “I make it for us. For you.”

There was something in his gaze—something so tender and full of hope—that made you feel a strange flutter in your chest. You had seen that look before, but now, it didn’t make you uncomfortable. In fact, it made you feel… safe.

The days that followed were filled with quiet moments like this. You and Pert’ah spent more time together, talking, learning about each other in a way that felt natural. You asked him about his art, about orc traditions and stories, and he answered each question with a kind of reverence, as though he cherished the opportunity to share these things with you. And the more you learned, the more you realized how wrong your people had been about the orcs.

They weren’t savages. They had a rich culture, full of art and history. Pert’ah had once shown you a collection of his tapestries—each one telling a different story of orc ancestors, their triumphs and losses. You could see how much pride he took in preserving these traditions, and it made you want to learn more.

One afternoon, as you both sat by the fire, you found yourself asking a question you hadn’t dared to before.

“Pert’ah… why did you agree to this marriage?” you asked, your voice hesitant. “Why me?”

Pert’ah looked at you, his eyes softening as he considered your question. He was silent for a moment, then he sighed deeply.

“I no want you be sold,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I no think it right. But when your father come… he say it bring peace between our people. I think… maybe, if we together, we no have to fight anymore. Maybe we find way to live better.”

He paused, his gaze lowering to the fire. “But more than that… I see you. When I first meet you, I see sadness in your eyes. I think maybe… I can make it go away. I want make you happy.”

His words hung in the air between you, and for the first time, you felt a deep ache in your chest—not from anger or resentment, but from something else. You realized then that Pert’ah hadn’t just seen you as a human, as someone different from him. He had seen you as a person, someone who was hurting, and he had wanted to help.

Slowly, you reached out and placed your hand on his, your fingers gently brushing against his rough skin. He looked up at you, surprise flashing across his face, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand turned, his fingers curling gently around yours.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “For everything.”

Pert’ah’s grip tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You no need thank me,” he murmured. “I do because… I care for you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and for the first time since your marriage, you felt a real connection between the two of you—a bond that had nothing to do with politics or peace treaties. It was something deeper, something real.

As the fire crackled beside you, you found yourself leaning just a little closer to him, your head resting against his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment, as if unsure of what to do, but then he relaxed, his arm gently wrapping around you in a way that felt natural, protective.

In that moment, you knew you were falling for him. You weren’t just coming out of your shell—you were opening your heart. And with each passing day, you found it easier to see Pert’ah not as the orc you had been forced to marry, but as the man who had shown you kindness, patience, and a love that was growing stronger with every beat of his heart.

And you were ready to let that love in.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Getting fucked by ghostface!Billy in an alley on your way back from Tatum’s. He tried to scare you and pull this little stunt, but you figure out it was him

More Billy, YES (this is 1.5k, enjoy)

Please read the warnings before reading this one, some of the content might make you uncomfortable or be triggering for you

Warnings: 18+, dub-con, semi-public sex, p + v, non-protected sex, creampie,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Dewey to drive you home? He should be there at ten,’’ Tatum asked again as you were getting ready to leave. ‘’The psychos are out at this hour...’’ 

You declined her offer. ‘’I can’t. My parents will have my head if I'm not home before curfew.’’ You grabbed your backpack and opened the door. ‘’See you tomorrow!’’ You waved at her before stepping out and closing the door. 

The chill autumn air brushing your face and the fallen leaves swished on the ground around you as you walked down the Rileys’ driveway and took the sidewalk. You didn’t particularly enjoy walking alone at night — no women did, honestly —, but Tatum’s house was only a few blocks from yours. 

On the way, you admired all the carved pumpkins out on the porches and other halloween decorations, making you miss when you were kids. Halloween was still fun as a teenager, but no parties could beat trick-or-treating and exchanging candies with your friends. 

As you turned on Elm street, a growing unease pricked at your senses. Someone was following you. Your steps became quicker, but not quick enough that your change of pace would alert the person behind you. The last thing you wanted was to let him know that you knew he was following you. He could take a run after you and it would be done for you.

You thought of going back to Tatum’s, maybe Dewey was home from work, but you were almost home. Instead, you took the shortcut to your house and turned in an alley, thinking you could kick a trash can at your pursuer's feet in case he tried anything, but a shadow loomed over you. Panic surged through you, and before you could react, a gloved hand swiftly clamped over your mouth, stifling the scream that tried to escape.

Fear pulsed within you, your mind racing to comprehend the situation. You struggled against the grip, your instincts kicking in as you fought to break free. The scent of leather filled your nostrils as you twisted and wriggled, attempting to loosen the stranger's hold.

A distorted voice pierced the air, its chilling words sending a shiver down your spine. ‘’Don’t you know walking home by yourself at night is a danger-magnet? Especially with a tight little skirt like yours,’’ he said as the hand that wasn’t over your mouth slid up your thigh, making your heart race in fear of what was going to happen. 

A sickening feeling twisted in your stomach. Maybe you should have waited for Dewey to drive you home. Your parents would have been mad for not respecting your curfew, but at least you would have been safe. 

You tried to scream again, and fight back, but the stranger only laughed at your attempts. 

‘’You’re not gonna escape me, babydoll,’’ the distorted voice laughed, tightening their grip and pressing your front against the brick wall of a building. ‘’If you try, I’ll gut you like a fish.’’ Something cool touched your leg and tears pricked in your eyes. 

A knife. 

Tatum was right about psychos being out at this hour…

You turned your head slightly, trying to see who was holding you, but all you saw was a strange halloween white mask with a black hood. 

‘’Have you ever been told how good your ass looked in that skirt? Bet your boyfriend likes to take you from behind, uh?’’ The hand that was on your thigh moved up, pulling your skirt and lifting it up, making your skin crawl. 

The night air hit your bare ass, completely exposed to the masked stranger, and you pressed your thighs together. You doubted it would stop the man from doing anything, but you could at least try. 

‘’Mmh, what a nice ass,’’ he pointed out, smacking his hand on your ass-cheek, the sound resonating in the alley, and grabbing it. You squeaked at the impact. ‘’I can’t wait to feel it against me as I pound in your tight pussy.’’

Your stomach churned. Your night was turning into a nightmare. 

‘’Now, I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth, but if you dare scream…’’ he trailed with a threat.

You nodded, having no other choice. He was the one with the knife.

‘’Spread those legs, hands on the wall,’’ he ordered, the distorted voice glitching a little, causing you to hear the man’s real voice. It sounded familiar, like you had heard it before, but a lot of men had similar voices. 

Shaking that thought, you obeyed and parted your legs, holding a hiss when pressing your hands against the rough brick.   

‘’Now what?’’ you spat, looking over your shoulder.  

The stranger chuckled, then pushed himself up against the curve of your ass, letting you feel his erection through his clothes, the hardness and heat radiating from his body admittedly kind of hot. ‘’Now I'm gonna stick it in you and rearrange your insides, you dumb fucking bitch.’’

You gasped at his words, arousal leaking through your panties. 

A car drove by on the other end of the alley, making the both of you go completely still. Minutes ago, you would have been relieved that a car was driving by. Not anymore. A sick and twisted part of you wanted the masked stranger to fuck you against that wall. 

Once the car was out of earshot, the masked man another grope of your ass, then pulled aside your underwear, running a gloved hand over your folds and discovering your little secret. 

‘’Is this…turning you on?’’ 

You kept quiet, disgusted and ashamed of yourself. 

He laughed, keeping going with the teasing by pressing a finger inside you, making you gasp as you automatically clamped around it. ‘’It is turning you on.’’ You heard the smirk in his voice. ‘’Dirty little slut.’’ 

You whined at his words, his finger moving in and out, but not nearly enough. ‘’Please,’’ you surprised yourself by saying, chasing his finger. ‘’I need more.’’ 

If anyone were to see you right now, you would be mortified. Not only were you getting sexually assaulted by a masked stranger in an alley, but you were enjoying it. It was sick.

Much too soon, he removed his finger, making you whine in protest. You turned your head to glance at him, but his head was down and you couldn’t see much. 

‘’Think you can handle my cock in you? Your slutty little cunt is weeping around my finger,’’ he said as he reached beneath his robe, fighting with his belt buckle and zipper to free himself. 

Your stomach bubbled with excitement, your teeth catching your bottom lip when you felt his hard cock pressing against your entrance. You pushed back against him, the hard press of his tip prodding at you, his pre-cum mixing with your leaking arousal. 

Your jaw dropped as you felt his cock part your folds, pushing himself all the way inside before stilling for a few seconds. Fuck. His dick was filling you so good. He gave a first snap of hips and a moan escaped from your lips, louder than you were expecting. 

Behind you, the masked man stopped moving, clamping a hand over your mouth as he hissed in your ear. ‘’Keep quiet or I’ll stop playing with your cute little cunt. Can't get caught, can we?’’ he warned, forgetting to use the voice distorter and giving himself away. 

‘’Billy Loomis, you sick fu—’’ 

Your words were cut off as his thick cock plunged back into you, making you moan instead. 

Billy laughed. ‘’Surprise, babydoll.’’ He gripped your hip firmly with one hand, the second coming around your throat while he was pounding in you from behind, stars flying around in your vision as the pleasure filled your whole body, explicit groans and muffled moans filling the dark alley.

‘’Always so fucking tight,’’ he grunted, getting really hot under the mask. Halloween costumes were not made to be worn during sex. 

You tried your best to brace yourself, both hands flat on the brick wall as Billy kept pistoning into you, your legs were shaking with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you. ‘’Ahh, yes, just like that!’’ 

After he emptied himself and rode the waves of your respective pleasure, Billy slipped out from you, a white string of hot cum connecting you to him. He smirked under the mask, loving to watching himself leak from your abused pussy and drip out and down your leg. 

‘’You’re insane,’’ you said, turning around to face your boyfriend, your wrinkled skirt still bunched up at your waist. 

Laughing, Billy pulled the mask off his face, his lips curved into a wicked grin. ‘’The best people are.’’ 

You both fixed yourself in silence, having enough played with public indecency for tonight. As thrilling and exciting as this had been, you didn’t want an actual stranger to see you exposed like that.  

‘’How did you know I just left Tatum’s?’’ 

‘’Stu,’’ he explained. ‘’Tatum called him saying you just left, so I put on that sweet little costume and decided to surprise you. Did you like it?’’ 

You grabbed the front of the black robe and kissed him in response.

—

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[corpsekiller]

i saw your halloween headcanon post from earlier and i just had to to drop this here — bakugou dressed up as ghostface from scream. that's it, this is the only thing going through my head😩

girl, you're so real for this. i've already read so many fics with this trope, but katsuki would definitely also dress up as ghostface on halloween. thank you so much for sending this ask, my love <3 i loved writing this dkksjsksla

PAIRING. ghostface!katsuki bakugou x genderneutral!reader

WARNINGS. a lot sexual tension, that's it

MASTERLIST

It's strangely quiet.

Your kitchen is dimly lit, the only source of light are the candles flickering auspiciously on your bedside table and the occasional colorful strobe of your decorations you've placed on your windowsill next to a carved pumpkin and some skeleton figurines you've found in a neat little store a while ago.

You're not sure where Katsuki is — he was supposed to pick you up for the party Mina is throwing at her place, but one glance at the clock steadily ticking on the wall above your bed tells you that he's already fifteen minutes late. It's odd, really, because he's always on time, considers punctuality almost as important as strength and victory during battle and yet, here you are, waiting for him as you stuff candy into your bag in preparation for this evening.

There's a faint memory of him mentioning that he wouldn't dress up, ignoring your pleads to wear matching costumes with a dismissive wave of his hand and a typical frown, muttering something about over my dead body and dressing up is only for kids, dumbass, so it doesn't make much sense to justify his unlike tardiness with the lame excuse of him just struggling with his costume.

"Where's that idiot?" You mutter with an exasperated sigh, gently tugging on the hem of your flimsy costume to readjust the fabric before reaching for your phone to text your boyfriend. Just as you're about to open your chats and type your message, a gloved hand snakes around your waist and pulls you back against someone standing behind you.

For a fleeting moment, your heart skips a beat. Then it begins to pound against your ribs — hectical and painful like a small frightened animal caught in the sharp canines of a predator — and your mouth falls open to cry out for help, but no sound dares to leave your trembling lips.

"Did I scare you?" His voice is low, a rough whisper that reverberates in his chest as he pulls you flush against his body, slowly leaning down until the smooth surface of his mask is pressed against your heated cheeks before he continues to speak. "Thought you'd just get away without giving me something sweet and call it a night, huh?"

Carefully, you turn your head and look up at him — hollow eyes and a distorted mouth locked in a permanent scream glare back at you, though the tension finally leaves your limbs and you sigh in relief, almost burst into laughter at your stupidly terrified reaction to his costume. You really must've watched too many horror movies over the span of the last few weeks if you're unable to recognize your own boyfriend.

Because now that you pay attention to the way he grabs your waist, almost possessive in a certain way, you just know his touch — strong, confident, so unmistakably Katsuki.

You squirm in his grip, meekly attempting to fully turn around to face him, but his grasp on your waist only tightens. A whimper leaves your lips, a quiet sound that causes him to chuckle as his hand trails up to tilt your chin, turning your head so you can look at him again.

"No, I don't think so. You're stayin' right here, got it?" His thumb brushes along your jaw, slow and almost tender. Even with the mask on, you can feel his smirk, can imagine the devilish grin that pulls on the corners of his mouth as he keeps you trapped between the kitchen counter and his body without a chance to escape

Though you're not sure you really want to.

"You like it, don't you?" He drawls, tilting his head to get a better look at you — although you can't see his eyes, his gaze seems to burn on your skin and you can't help the violent blush that tints your cheek in a shade of pink. There's a certain edge to his voice too, taunting and dangerous, almost sadistic if you listen close enough, as if he's enjoying the anticipation etched into the soft furrow of your brows, the sheer power he has over you and your body. "You like that I've got you cornered... nowhere to run?"

Oh, this is just a game for him and you've fallen right into his trap.

"Maybe," you reply, barely above a whisper, though you can't help but smile just a little.

"Maybe, huh?" He murmurs, a soft laugh escaping him as he lets his gloved hand wander from your cheek to your neck, lingering there for just a moment before his fingers slowly close around your throat. He doesn't squeeze, not yet, only lets you feel the weight of his hand, but it's enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Better be sure about it. Because now that I've got my hands on you, I won’t let you go.”

With one smooth motion, he pulls the mask up just enough to reveal his face—- the crimson of his eyes has darkened, pupils blown with something you can only describe as hunger and his lips are pulled into a sinister smile that bares all his teeth. There's a moment of silence, then he pulls you into a bruising kiss that punches the air out of your lungs and causes your knees to buckle under the weight of your body until the only thing that is holding you on your own two feet is none other than your boyfriend.

After what feels like half an eternity, Katsuki pulls away. Your head spins with the lack of oxygen, your legs are shaking and yet you can't help but reach out to dig your fingers into the fabric of his costume, roughly yanking him back for another kiss that leaves you just as breathless as the first one.

“Do you really think I'm done with you yet?" He whispers, voice a low rumble, before slipping the mask back down. "You have no idea what I've planned for you...Happy Halloween, babe."

[revelboo]

oof ouch ough that angst HURT please madam i'm begging you don't make that canon i'm gonna puke if i have to watch all the idw bots suffer like that - oh god and the tiny baby newsparks would be doomed, either their carriers will die trying to sustain them or they'll fade away, i hate it!!!!

you even used my suggestion of kitten-twins against me... ow. to heal my heart, may i request more of cyclonus and tailgate? hopefully their human's fear will fade into numbness then acceptance quickly, it'll be hard to stay in hypervigilant prey mode when tailgate's doting on reader like a little princess.

Yeah, that angst fic isn’t cannon. I like drama, but I couldn’t actually do that to any of them.

Chain Me Free Pt 3

Tailgate x Reader x Cyclonus

• The terror had faded some after seeing the smaller robot monster, Tailgate you remind yourself, have a nervous breakdown because you were upset. That uneasy fear is still there, nerves jangling, but Tailgate seems bent on overwhelming you with attention until you’re too frazzled to be terrified. You half suspect he’s decided you’re either his personal teddy bear or a beloved puppy. Neither prospect particularly awesome. Legs swinging as you hang on to the arm around your middle tucking you against his frame while he jogs to keep up with the scary one’s, Cyclonus’s, longer stride. Though after watching him calming Tailgate and talking him through what you’re positive was a panic attack, you suspect he’s probably a big softy. Even if he spends a lot of time just frowning at you, they’ve yet to hurt you. That has to be a good sign.

• “Cyclonus, wait up.” Reaching out his free hand, he catches Cyclonus’s hand and the bigger mech finally slows down for him. Interlacing his servos with Cyclonus’s, he shifts you to settle on his hip, feeling those warm hands on his arm. “How are they supposed to get their bearings if you go through the ship so fast?” Can feel your little heart beating against him, the rhythm oddly soothing. Knows Cyclonus is annoyed with him, wanted to give you to someone else, but you’d come to him. Them. And he can’t believe that it was truly random, wants it to be more than a coincidence. That you’re meant to be with them.

• “If you ever let them actually walk, they’ll probably get under ped,” he mutters, feeling Tailgate’s servos tighten on his own in offense. You’re not screaming at least, just dangling and looking around with an almost dazed expression. Still in shock over finding yourself in a strange place among aliens. Feels sorry for you, but he has enough to deal with taking care of Tailgate. Doesn’t need an alien stray.

• “Being small doesn’t automatically make someone a burden,” Tailgate growls, shifting you on his hip again. Like you’re a toddler and his grip is much too tight. Looking around, you feel almost numb, because his rambling explanation had only made things worse. You’re on a ship in space hurtling away from your home and they don’t know when they’ll be able to get you back. They also can’t fully explain how you’d ended up here, your brain filing his excited jabbering under ‘magic.’ And you tense when you see an even bigger gray mech, but it’s the glimpse of a human cradled in his palm, holding onto his servos as he cups them to his chassis that startles you. That person smiling up at the giant and laughing at something he’s said before spotting you and waving with a grin. And they seem okay. That more than anything else breaks through the lingering fear as your own hand weakly lifts, then they’re gone, carried away by their mech.

• “I’m not going to run if you let me walk,” you say, head turning to look at him and Tailgate hesitates. Because as much as he hates it, Cyclonus has a point. Not all the bots on board remember to look down and you’re tiny. Much smaller than he is. “You’re squishing me a bit,” you add, expression pinched and he stops in dismay, awkwardly shuffling you until one of his arms is behind your back and the other behind your knees. “This works,” you murmur and you offer him a hesitant smile that spreads warm through him as he ignores Cyclonus’s tired venting.

Previous

[saioratral]

PARING: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

PROMPT: love can change SYNOPSIS: can you ever imagine a man like him.. in love?

WARNING: none NOTE: i saw sajal ali's photoshoot and i just had to write. literally got out of my writing block all because of a photo?? and who else to think of but sukuna cause hear me out.. also recommend hearing janam janam cause i was listening to that while writing

in sukuna’s eyes, you were no one special. just another girl- another offering from a village too afraid to stand up to him, hoping that you might spare them from his wrath. it was a simple transaction: you, a fragile human, given to the king of curses as an escape. so why is he getting so flustered seeing you in your wedding dress?

the blood red fabric adorned with golden embroidery was made by the finest silk to elevate your look as if you were the entire world’s beauty. he could hardly tear his eyes away from the sight of you, sitting quietly next to him. he had expected fear but not this… this feeling that pulled at something deep inside of him

your face, however, was veiled, a delicate red dupatta covering your features, hiding your eyes from his. still, even with the fabric between you, he couldn’t look away. the gold embroidery caught sukuna's attention with its soft, delicate beauty. it wasn’t just the dress, though. it was everything about you. the way you carried yourself, the way you sat with a quiet grace beside him, imagine a calm cat and a dangerous dog beside each other

you were so much more than he had ever expected, and yet, why? why did his chest tighten when he caught the smile of your lips, the way you carefully signed your name on the marriage papers, your handwriting neat and delicate, as though each letter was a piece of art? 

sukuna frowned, pushing the strange flutter in his chest away

what was happening to him?

you weren’t special, not in the way he needed. you were just a pawn. someone to carry out the ritual yet, when your shaky hands passed him the pen, your trembling touch brushing against his cold fingers, something in him snapped. he could feel the warmth of your skin against his- a jolt coursing through his body. a soft laugh followed from you, sweet and melodic. it was the first time he’d heard you and it sounded like music

“are you nervous?” sukuna’s curious voice made you turn your head a little to hear him better

you whispered back to him, making his heart skip a beat. “just a little”

saying your simple vows, he slowly lifts the red cloth, his fingers hesitated as he gently brushes the fabric away from your face. the moment it settled on your head, his breath caught in his chest

there you were. how could someone like you even exist before his very own eyes? to call you his, to claim you as his own, was as if he had conquered every battle, won every war, and still stood victorious, not because of his power, but because of you

the simple act of you feeding him sweets, turned into something far more meaningful. his eyes watched the delicate henna patterns that adorned your hands, reaching all the way up to your elbows. the designs were a testament to the time, the effort, and the love poured into them. the realization hit him, pulling him under with a force he couldn’t resist. perhaps he had been wrong about you. perhaps you were more than just a village offering, more than just another woman. maybe…

maybe he had found something he never knew he needed

as the years passed, sukuna remained beside you. the king of curses was no longer a title he wore. the man who had struck fear into the hearts of villages, who had ruled with an iron fist, slowly faded. he had cast aside the darkness that once defined him. no longer did he crave the chaos of battle, the thrill of bloodshed. instead, he found peace in the quiet moments spent with you

the human aging was catching up, leaving their marks on both of you, but your beauty had only deepened with time. he noticed the silver threads that had begun to grow through your hair, the soft lines that had appeared around your eyes, and yet, to him, you were as breathtaking as the day he first laid eyes on you

“you still look at me like that,” your voice filled with warmth. “like i’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen”

sukuna chuckled softly 

“i’ll keep looking at you like this for as long as i breathe”

@saioratral .ᐟ do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission