#how to use constant contact effectively

[goxjo]

! 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

ALPHA! GOJO x F OMEGA! READER

+ synopsis. you live in a world where omega and alpha qualities are medically treated at birth to become dormant later in life. present day, only betas & pseudo-betas exist, pheromones & its effects are left in the distant past, and heats & ruts are reduced to monthly cycles of being slightly hornier than normal, nothing more.

so, what happens when a curse you encounter induces a heat in you far worse than anything recorded in modern times?

+ alternatively. in which even a special grade sorcerer isn’t immune to the curse-induced heat of an omega — you, the partner he's pined for over the course of your entire friendship — forcing you and him to go back to your primal roots.

+ cw. forced A/B/O dynamics, lovesick! gojo, slight! geto x reader, sorcerer! reader, dubcon (technically sex pollen), reader is born an omega, gojo and geto are born alphas, gojo's infinity can't block scent for fic purposes, geto doesn’t turn au, use of restraints, mating call, mutual pining, it gets playful / lighthearted in the middle, implied 'medical' use of sex toys, dirty thoughts, lordosis, petnames (angel, love), pussy job, constant pov switches towards the end, cunnilingus, ass fingering, piv, cervix kisses, confessions, shared orgasm, creampie, knotting, no beta bye, 3.5k+ words, MDNI

+ masterlists. general ┆ jujutsu kaisen ┆ collab

♥︎ aki’s note. big thank you to raven (@raven-cincaide) for sprinting with me ♡ ++ this very late fic is part of my into the omegaverse collab ♡ please show some love to everybody’s amazing works when you can!

He came as soon as he heard. Plagued by his racing thoughts, Satoru stands still, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches you from behind the glass window. Though he appears to be calm, seeing you like this is torture.

“How long has she been in there?” Suguru puts his hands in his pockets, taking the spot next to Satoru.

“Too long,” he breathes. And it’s only been half a day. His 6 eyes have been agonizingly locked on your form the entire time, piercing blue eyes peering through the glass and into your poor disturbed soul. You’ve been crying non stop ever since they found you. Eyes glossy, pupils blasted, spewing incoherent words, skin damp and hot.

They needed to restrain your arms and legs to be able to perform tests on you, but that didn’t stop you from crossing your knees, relying on friction to rub your pussy as best as you can. All this, as your body wriggles beneath the harsh clinic lights. You’ve gone absolutely feral. Your cries are pitched an octave higher than what Satoru’s used to. And as much as he doesn’t want to believe it, it’s as if… “It’s as if she’s calling out to someone.”

“To you, you mean?” Suguru scoffs.

Paper seals secure the walls of your room. Remnants of the curse linger around your body and because of that, they’ve deemed it safer to assume only born-betas are allowed direct contact. For now, at least. Shoko says they don’t know if there are aftereffects — meaning, if exposure to a victim could also trigger a rut in an alpha. And now they’re dealing with pheromones, not just cursed energy, so infinity is out of the question. That means Shoko gets to stay with you, and the two born-alphas are to stay on this side until further notice. 

Satoru hates it – being separated from you by a wall like this. Not like you weren’t already normally separated by one, considering your room in the dorms is right next to his. But he particularly hates how this renders him unable to barge in on you any time he wants.

Right now, he wants to annoy you. He wants to poke fun at you. He wants to pull your strings because he likes it when you get fake-mad. You’re cute when you do that. Plus, he uses it to his advantage knowing you can never actually stay mad at him for too long — a weakness the two of you share.

“Heard the report got it all wrong.” Suguru pats Satoru’s back. “Special grade 1, was it? Quite the leap from semi-grade 1.” Suguru shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. He’s never seen his best friend so distraught. But Suguru reassures him, telling him not to worry and reminding him of the fact that, at the very least, “She’s alive and kicking. Well, kicking too hard for that matter. Those knots are gonna bruise.”

“She should’ve called me. Fucking idiot.” Satoru clicks his tongue.

They have brought in experts — historians, even. They have tried every omega medicine known to man. Emergency suppressants that were once obsolete are concocted that same day. Everything should’ve shown immediate effects. And yet, it’s almost laughable how it all seemed like they were only giving you placebo meds, forcing you to down so many in so little time. Since nothing has worked, Shoko sent them away.

What’s worse is, the curse is exorcised. And in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, killing a curse usually takes all its enchantments with it. So, if the curse is dead and you’re still experiencing the worst heat known to man, they could damn well consider your revert permanent if they don’t do something about it quickly.

The two men jolt back upon smelling a very pronounced aroma of burnt cinnamon on Shoko who’s left the room for the first time in the last 6 hours. Her hair is slightly disheveled, slightly damp from sweat. And the circles around her eyes have grown visibly darker and heavier.

“Can’t imagine our forefathers going nuts over that stench.” Suguru lightens the mood, fanning his hand in front of his face. He blinks his tears dry as a result of inhaling a whiff of the strong odor.

“It’s not that bad.” Satoru scrunches his nose as he’s suddenly taken aback, though he’s not particularly repulsed by the scent. If anything, he’s immediately convinced it’s something he doesn’t mind living with. “Plus, I heard it’s slightly different for every omega.”

“Finally, some fresh fucking air,” Shoko murmurs as she leans on the glass, head thrown back as she lights up a cigarette. Apparently, she hasn’t had one since they brought you in. “Welp, tried everything. Even left her alone with toys to do—”

“Herself?” Suguru teases.

Satoru scratches his throat. “Did it- uhm… did it help?”

“Not one bit.”

“Maybe you… didn’t give her enough time?” Satoru nonchalantly suggests, pouting as he subconsciously takes notes for himself if he ever gets presented with the opportunity.

“I let her at it for an hour.” Shoko huffs out smoke in the direction opposite to the two men. “I even gave her… options, you know.”

Satoru mentally kicks himself as his thoughts run wild. He can still see the tip of the pink silicone popping out of one of the trays, girth not so different from his. He hates Shoko for doing a shitty job at concealing it because blood rushes to his cock just by looking at that thing, knowing it had gone inside you. He thinks about what other toys Shoko had you use — thinks about which one was able to make you cum the fastest, which one was your favorite?

Fuck. Now, he has to keep adjusting his stance, marching in place like a damn soldier till he manages to get his half-hard cock into a better position in his pants. Using his hands then and there is not an option for obvious reasons.

“Satoru.” Shoko’s tone becomes more serious. “You can drag this longer than it needs to be. But you know there’s only one surefire tried-and-tested-literally-by-millions-way to cure a heat.” She takes a long puff, blowing smoke in between words, embers flickering on the end of her half-done stick. “You up for it?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Of course he is.

Suguru and Shoko shoot each other knowing glances, the former raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘watch this’. “Satoru, If you’re not gonna do it, I wi—”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Satoru spits, not letting his best friend finish his sentence. The two quickly exchange low fives, chuckling at the expense of their lovesick friend. Satoru turns to Shoko, paying no mind to his friends so blatantly enjoying themselves in the middle of a crisis. “You’re sure you’ve done everything you can?”

“Everything I can, yes. You’ve exhausted all the favors you can ask of me, it’s high time you deal with your own problems.” Shoko prods two fingers onto Satoru’s chest.

“Want her to want it,” Satoru speaks softly.

“Are you blind? Did your fucking 6 eyes stop working?” Shoko looks at Satoru, puzzled, as if she wonders why Satoru isn’t seeing what she’s seeing. “Oh, I’m pretty sure she wants it bad.”

“Want her to want me.”

Shoko rolls her eyes and disposes of her cigarette though it’s a couple more puffs away from when she usually stops. She’s at her limit. “Wait here.”

Trying to prove a point, she goes to the supply room and comes back with two handkerchiefs — a white one and a blue one. She then pats the white one with the sweat off of Satoru’s nape, and the other with Suguru’s. “Pray with me, boys. One of you’s gonna have to return to their roots.” She cracks her neck, preparing to head back in.

The sound of your cries increase and decrease in volume when Shoko opens and closes the door behind her.

“Shoko, Shoko, please! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it—”

Shoko waves the blue handkerchief above your head, grabbing your attention for only a few seconds till you’re back to screaming in agony. She can almost hear Suguru scoffing on the other side. She then takes out the white cloth with Satoru’s scent, and like a moth to a flame, you’re instantly drawn to it. Your breaths have finally steadied. You take quick bouts of whiffs, head craning every which way she drags the piece of cloth.

She leaves you with the handkerchief after letting your arms and legs loose, allowing you to curl up in a ball as you desperately inhale Satoru’s scent. It’s the first thing that has calmed you in hours. Nonetheless, this relief is temporary. Pretty soon you’ll be needing something stronger. Something more potent. Something in its rawest form.

“S-satoru,” you breathe through the handkerchief, staring at the two-way mirror like a faint prayer to the god you know is there. “Shoko, please get me Satoru.” Your words are clear as day, and that’s the first coherent thing you’ve said all day.

Shoko’s eyes dart to where she’s sure Satoru stands. “Do you see it now?” she mouths.

Satoru’s jaw stiffens, stomach now a mangled mess of anticipation and guilt. On the one hand, he’s relieved. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if you’d reacted the same way to Suguru’s scent. On the other hand, he knows what’s going to happen now. Not like he didn’t see this coming.

…

Though she didn’t have to, Shoko chose to make a nest of Satoru’s clothes for you in his own bed. “Thought I’d at least make the effort to help make it romantic, no?”

Except nothing about this is romantic. Jujutsu dorm walls thankfully aren’t thin, but thin enough for him to hear your cries from behind his door.

Satoru takes a second to collect himself, getting square with the fact that this isn’t how he wanted your first time to go. He can smell you from where he stands, forcibly reminding him for every second he delays that you’re in there, waiting for him.

He’s played your first time over and over in his head as he fucked his fist — almost every morning in the shower, once or twice in your room when you were out on a mission, and many, many times in the very bed you’re nestled now. Out of the hundreds of scenarios he’s made up of him making love to you in his head, he’s never once pictured this.

His friends have pestered him about this for so long, urging him to take the first step or else Suguru — and on some occasions, Shoko — won’t hesitate to whisk you off your feet. But he tells them he has his reasons for constantly holding off. He says it’s because you’re perfect for him, and so he wanted your first to be perfect — plain and simple. He says it so matter-of-factly, too. But now, to hell with the perfect scenario because as it turns out, it’s mother nature herself who decides to give him one crazy hell of a push to make a move.

Satoru enters his room. Greeted with the raw and unbound fragrance of your heat, his heart pounds in his chest. He coos upon seeing you hugging his pillow, all plump and ready for him. Suddenly, it registers in his head that he’s seeing you naked for the first time, lying in his bed. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says more to himself, trying to convince himself that this is real — that you’re real.

“‘M sorry, it hurts— hurts so bad, Satoru. ‘M sorry!” He’s sorry it has to be like this, too. But he’s not so sorry that you’d asked for him.

With dried up tears along your cheeks, and fresh ones in your eyes, your cried out voice croaks, “Satoru, help me please. I need you.” You roll on your belly, propping your forearms as you bury your face in his scent, whining into his pillow, back arching + ass perked up, as you shamelessly stroke your pussy to his face. “N-need you now, please, please, please?”

Fuck.

Even now, it melts his heart seeing you so full of want.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’m here aren’t I?”

Satoru doesn’t miss the way your hand grips the sheets as you watch him discard his clothes. He sees the absolute delight in your face, the flexing of your belly, the further bend of your back, the quicker strokes of your fingers around your clit. But it’s the sight of your nectar dripping out of you that finally makes him break.

With how hard he is and how much he wants to devour you like crazy, he could easily be mistaken for an alpha in a rut. He swears his chemical makeup has nothing to do with it. He just wants you that bad.

Suddenly, the space between you and him doesn’t exist. You moan out loud just by being touched by him. He engulfs you in his arms forcing you to sit up, hot skin against even hotter skin, your back pressed flush against his torso as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. And your slick — god, your honeyed slick — begins to coat his hard cock speared between your legs and along your puffy folds.

Fuck.

“Sweet angel.” His eyes roll back as he takes in all of your scent.

His cock twitches between your legs, pre-cum starting to drip off his tip. He feels a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach as soon as he gets into contact with your slick. Your touch is so fucking electric. One hand wraps around your stomach while the other reaches for your breast, cupping and kneading the soft flesh, feeling your thuds of a heartbeat beneath his palm. You smell so fucking good upclose, your scent keeps hooking and hooking him in, and taking care of you is all he cares about. That's all that matters. He’s holding you now and yet he’s unable to satiate this mad need to be closer to you. He needs to be closer. He needs to make love to you. Needs to be in you—

“S-Satoru.” You guide the hand on your breast, intertwining with his fingers, pressing harder, rougher, against your skin. “You feel so good, Satoru. Please move. N-need more.”

Satoru releases a deep groan in your ear when you bring your knees together, locking his cock between your legs as you begin to grind your pussy on his erection, nectar lubing your every sway.

“E-easy, eaaasy,” Satoru’s voice is low and breathy. He hisses with every roll of your hips, breath hitching as your pussy drags his foreskin back and forth, balls kissing the back of your thighs. Mind hazy with want, he presses his cheek on yours, planting open mouthed and sloppy kisses on the side of your face.

“Not so fast!” Satoru holds your hips in place when you start to pick up the pace, making you whine, “Wha–”

“Too fast, I’m sorry.” Satoru trails apologetic kisses along your jaw. “Not there- don’t want to cum there.”

He apologizes as a tinge of guilt prickles his throat seeing you so utterly vulnerable. Your eyes plead for him to fill you then and there but he needs this moment to last as long as possible, even if it means prolonging your agony.

“S-Satoru, can’t wait any longer!” You try to move your hips but they’re locked in place. 

“No.” He says, firmly, and it hurts to tell you that. “Not yet.” Tears well up in your eyes as your chest heaved at the height of your confusion. Your mouth opens, trying to find words, but before you get to complain, he gives you a soft, chaste kiss — your very first one, he realizes — and tells you, “Get down for me.”

And with tears in your eyes, you oblige. He supposes this is the work of the reemergence of your makeup and raging hormones, making you so pliant and submissive, you’re willing to do his bidding even when you’re on the verge of insanity — when, before this, you always had a stubbornness in you he’d always been fond of. But then again, at this very moment, you’re desperate. And you’re desperate for him.

“Satoru, I don’t know what you’re up to b-but please, don’t take long- oh!” Your protests are quickly replaced with cries as you feel a soft, wet muscle slide across your folds. He’s always had that habit of not letting you finish. To think it’s something he takes to bed with him makes your stomach coil. “Fuck!”

Hot breath fans your folds as he splits your slit open with his tongue, and all you can do is shudder in place, wallowing in the extreme pleasure that dozens of toys weren’t able to give you. You’re practically leaking on his face, honey dripping down his chin, the tip of his nose pressing into your ass.

His tongue squelches with every lick, twisting your core in knots with every line drawn. And then it’s as if Satoru’s lips are sealed around your clit, puckering and sucking on the sensitive bud.

“Satoru, oh god. ��Toru, so good, ‘s so fucking good~” Your eyebrows furrow, lips pursing as he relentlessly flicks his tongue on your clit.

“Oh!” You scream when a honeyed digit enters your ass, thumb hooking and pressing hard against your g-spot, all while his tongue remains fixated on your clit. “Fuck- mmm!”

You can’t help but mewl and cuss into your first orgasm — the first one he granted you, that is — wave of pleasure washing across your body as he eats out your high. And while it’s a sensation that gives you a sense of satisfaction, you’re left wanting more. You’re left needing more.

“Please fill me- can’t wait any longer- please, alpha~”

Oh, now you’ve done it.

“Sorry, love.” Satoru pulls you back into his chest and cups your cheek, making you look over your shoulder and into his face. “Neither can I.”

“Sato- Oh!” Gagged by the feeling of friction in your aching walls, the very first one you had welcomed since your heat, you’re at a loss for words when his cock enters you, bottoming out straight away. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ and he instinctively closes the gap, savoring your mouth, and with every click and swirl of your tongues, he thinks you are probably the softest, most delicate thing he’s ever tasted.

He knows he’s screwed, tasting you for the first time, knowing he’ll never want anything other than you, your lips, your pussy, this feeling ever again.

You feel as if every pump of his cock scratches that stubborn itch that��s spread across your pussy since your heat. And every satisfying ram of his hips kisses your cervix, bringing you closer and closer to your high, as if this — his cock, and the feeling of his body rocking your own — has been what’s missing in your life.

“Scream for me, angel,” Satoru grumbles against your ear as he feels himself nearing his own climax. Suddenly, his mouth is back on yours, kissing you, with you purring against his lips as he fucks you through your shared high.

“I–” When his pace comes to a full stop, you know what’s about to come. And he doesn’t know what to say. Shoko’s already briefed him on what’ll happen to an alpha who cums in an omega in heat, not that he doesn’t know what a knot is. He just doesn’t know what to expect. Still, he wants you to take it. Even now, he wants you to want it. But he studies that curious look on your face, and as he scrambles for words, it seems it’s your turn to finally shut him up.

“I love you, Satoru.”

Satoru chuckles. More to himself.

“I love you, too.” Satoru, with breaths uneven, relaxes his forehead against yours. Satoru steadies himself, and pretty soon, you collapse in his arms as his knot locks in your core.

...

"Hey," Satoru breaks the silence. "You know... taking my knot like that means you practically asked me to marry you."

"Shut up."

—

Shoko alternates between looking at you and flipping the pages of the report in her clipboard. It seems that you’re technically back to normal but she’s got that look in her face as if a couple of words are stuck behind her throat.

“It’s fine. Hit me with it,” you prompt. “What is it?”

“Well, you’re now a full-blown omega is what it is,” Shoko says without an ounce of concern in her voice. “But seeing as you’ve got… help now,” Shoko’s eyes dart to Satoru who’s standing in the corner, “there’s really not much to do about it.”

“Is that so?” You chuckle at the playful tension between Satoru and Shoko.

“You’re ‘help’, by the way,” Shoko addresses Satoru.

“A big one, too,” he adds.

“Keep it in your pants.” Shoko puts her clipboard aside and scratches her temple. “Still, it’s insane that this is what finally brought you two together.”

Shoko’s words put a longing, knowing smile to your face. "This silly guy waited too long."

“Hey, if that’s what it took. Who am I to complain?” Satoru shrugs, ego fluffed by the thought that you’re finally his. And the fact that he and you are the only active alpha and omega in the world? How special is that?

pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎

[luvrxbunny]

little spider

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Innocence

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader knows nothing about sex or feelings of arousal, clothed clit-rubbing? cum in pants, small feelings of embarrassment (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.3k

A/N: sorry im late but im kinda proud of this one so i hope it was worth the wait! <3

Miguel didn’t think he’d end up in this position, nowhere in his wildest, most perverted fantasies did he think that this would actually be the outcome of him recruiting you but… here we are. 

You were assigned by the higher-ups to learn from him, they thought you had potential, and honestly? Miguel hated you when he met you, he felt like they were punishing him for something, that assigning him this raw recruit was just a flaunt of power. You didn't even have a suit he had to make you one, a trial suit first, to make sure all your vitals were good, to track your movements and decide what suit material would be best- or if you would have a digital one like him. 

During the weeks of his monitoring of your vitals, he began to grow a bit fond of you. You were an adorable recruit and eager to please, you were thoughtful and always gave your all, something he really appreciates. One other thing he noticed about you… your dopamine levels were elevated around him, along with your estradiol and testosterone. He ignores it when he’s writing his reports, he tells himself that he doesn’t report it because the higher-ups don't need to know, not because he knows they’d make you transfer… He should’ve requested it the first time he noticed it but the thought of you, his sweet, innocent spider, all turned on just from being around him? It ignited something in him. 

He updated your suit, saying that the data he was receiving wasn't enough, he made you wear the suit as he replaced the chip and tried to hide the smile in his voice when your spine straightened under his touch. The new chip could give him real-time tracking of all your vitals, but he set his watch to alert him anytime certain hormones spiked… estradiol and testosterone. So he conducted a little experiment over the following weeks, he’d lean into you more when you speak, holding your eye contact, he even broke out the smirk he used to use on girls when he was younger, and it worked on you. 

His watch vibrated every time he was near you, if he walked up to you, it started being an alert to when you were near, it’d go off before you’ve even approached him, he’d walk into a room and it’d go off before he even saw you. It started to have an effect on him, he started to feel a spark in his stomach every time it went off, every time he’d meet your eyes and you’d have that expression he’d grown to know so well. That weak, almost pleading- yet confused look in your eyes and the sheer panic before tearing them away from his. He started having to grip whatever was in his hands as tightly as he could to control himself when you’re breathing would stutter after he complimented you on your work. 

He started getting hard reviewing your logs after spending the day with you, watching your heart rate stay elevated, spiking along with your hormones, he can see your breathing pattern, and how irregular it is compared to when you’re not with him. How high your body temperature was… the main areas of heat. On his more weak days, he’s gotten himself off to the diagram of you, with the burning red spot between your legs as the focus of his fantasies. 

Now you’re here, avoiding his gaze as his watch vibrates like crazy. “Miguel?” He looks at you again, trying to keep his gaze neutral, hopefully, to make this a bit easier on you… and him. “Yes?” 

His voice is smooth as cocoa butter and you can feel his gaze burning into you. He started this heat inside you, one you’d never encountered before. It starts when you see him in the morning and doesn’t stop until you struggle to sleep- or at least it used to. But recently it’s been non-stop, a constant distraction that you can’t pinpoint, it feels like it’s in your hips, stomach, chest, and thighs all at once. It feels like it’s in his breath when it fans over your face, it's in his eyes when they lock with yours, and somehow on his fingertips when they brush over any part of you. You’ve spent hours a night trying to figure out what you can do about it, you’ve thought about even asking Lyla but decided the risk of her telling Miguel was far too great.  

This past week it’s just been building on it’s self, almost unbearable with Miguel’s new immersive training. He takes you away to some deserted, closed-off place and trains you with no distractions, giving you nothing to focus on other than him and forcing him to give all his attention to you. Miguel’s attention, his gaze is what causes the most… pain. That’s what it’s become, a dull, numb, thrumming at the base of your stomach, like an itch you can’t scratch that just becomes a nuisance. You couldn’t handle it anymore and if you asked Lyla she’d just tell Miguel- so why not just ask him directly? 

So here you are, avoiding his gaze because you’ve spent the entire day with him, building enough fire inside you- you don’t need to add any more. “I think…” You take a breath and turn to him a bit before forcing the words out. “There’s something wrong with me.” He puts his clipboard down, his concern, and his thick, veiny hand that comes into view piles onto the heat over-taking your bloodstream. He takes his glasses off and sits back in his chair, reaching his leg out to pull a chair beside you closer to him. You dare a glance at him and try not to collapse at his gaze, at the way his hair moves over his face for a moment as he motions for you to sit in the provided chair.

You sigh and sit down, your legs pressed tightly together, your palms resting on your thighs and your eyes focused on the back of your hands. You stay silent, your mind racing, your body warming further at the feeling of his eyes on you. “What’s wrong, little spider?” You suppress a shiver at the nickname as goosebumps rise over your skin, it’s been a problem since he picked it. “I’m hot.” The words shoot out of your mouth before you can second-guess them again. Miguel chuckles a bit, sending embarrassment through your body, sits back in his chair, and crosses his arms, prompting you to go on. 

“I can’t fix it. There’s… someone.” Miguel pretends he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to him. “For some reason, something about them just- “ You pause for a moment, truly baffled by the way you feel, trying to find some way to explain it. “They just do something to me and it won’t stop.” Your words start to sound frantic, a bit panicked. Miguel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to examine your expression. “It’s like there's a low- like a low vibration- or a frequency? Like the ones that are so low you can barely hear but you can sorta feel them? It’s like that but- but deep inside me.”

Your eyes close and eyebrows furrow as you describe the feeling to him. He tries to keep his breathing even as he hardens uncontrollably under the suit. You don’t even realize what you’re confessing to him. “Like it’s in my bones, Miguel.” You add emphasis, your hands digging into the material of your suit before raising your head to meet his eyes, hoping he understands the state you’re in. He’s almost dizzy at the way his blood rushes to his cock. He holds your gaze and tries to convey a baffled, thoughtful expression as he tries to calm himself. 

“That’s- That’s odd. Yeah, um.” He takes a few deep breaths before sitting back again, unable to stay in your space any longer. “Do- Can you tell me who’s causing it? Perhaps it’s a side effect of their powers?” Your spine straightens and you shake your head at him gently. You twist your fingers in the fabric of your suit and your feet play with each other on the lab floor. “H-have you heard of any powers like that?” You ask him, a hopeful look in your eyes. 

Clever girl.

“No, I haven't.” He sits back, spreads his legs, and runs his hands down his thighs and back with a sigh. He holds back a smirk when his watch vibrates and he hears you take a sharp breath. “I- I don’t know what to do anymore. It- I can barely sleep.” You sound distraught, broken, and tired. He’d be the messed up one if he didn't help you… Right?

“I mean… I can try running some tests?” He offers, he keeps his tone light, trying to keep his dark desires off your radar. You perk up at his offer, already up and out of your seat, standing in front of him with a smile. He keeps his eyes on you, trying to ignore the way your scent is assaulting his nose, giving away how badly you need him. “You think we could?”

He nods and stands up, walking over to his lab table and clearing a few things. His head is already running wild with fantasies, ideas of what he could do to you, what he could teach you, how good he could make you feel. “Yeah, of course. C’mere, pequeña araña” You were already walking to him but your pace stutters and his watch vibrates when the nickname slips out. He truly didn’t mean to, he had gotten a bit too deep in his fantasies, and when your voice broke through he didn’t get fully pulled out. He’s never called you that in Spanish, not to your face at least, it’s fallen from his lips a few times before though, when he’s alone with his hand wrapped around his cock. But your reaction dissuades any fear that had shot through him before and he can’t help the smirk that makes its way on his face. 

You’re standing silently beside him, wringing your hands together and he doesn’t think you even notice the way your thighs keep clenching together. “Get on the table.” His tone is teasing, a grin on his face as you jump and scramble onto the tabletop. You lay on your back and look over at Miguel, feeling that heat rage through you at the look on his face. It’s dark and- wanting. It’s confusing. 

He takes a deep breath and your fingers try to dig into the metal table top as he walks to you. “Okay. I’m going to examine your body a bit, press into some muscles, some pressure points to see if maybe it’s a physical trigger. Is that okay with you?” Your chest is already rising and falling more rapidly at the thought, the promise of Miguel’s hands on you. You nod at him stiffly, trying to stay normal and calm as he holds your eye contact, nodding along with you. A small smile graces his face before he walks around and presses his palm into your hairline, pushing your head down to rest on the table as he stands north of you. 

His hands press into your shoulders and your eyes shut tight. He can feel all your muscles tense and his watch vibrates, he sneaks a peak at his and sees the huge spike in almost all your vitals. His cock twitches in his suit at your obvious need but he brushes it aside, if he rushes into this he might scare you off and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that happens. He may lose his mind. He moves his hands to your biceps, massaging them tightly as little whines slip into your breaths, only audible to his ears. 

He walks back to the side of the tables and your eyes stay shut. He massages the softness of your sides and his breathing kicks up a bit once he gets to your hips. He takes his time with them, admiring the way you fit into his hands and how you subconsciously tilt them toward him. His thighs jump as his cock begins to leak, dripping precum down them. He takes a deep, shaky breath and forces himself to move on. He forced himself to move on, he was trying to take it slow, hopefully, you’d realize where you need him and ask for it. But your thighs spread open when he massages the outside and his hands dive for the inner before he can think it through. 

You gasp, you sit up with your eyes wide and your hands gripping his wrists. You don’t do anything though, he expects you to pull his hands away but it feels more like you’re holding him there, stopping- or attempting to stop him from pulling away. So of course he doesn't. He stares into your eyes as you search his, trying to figure out if he realizes the way that made you feel, if your cover was blown, if he wants to stop but he looks expectant, like he’s waiting for something. So you loosen your grip. “That’s- I think that’s- ” You’re nodding at him lightly, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say because for some reason your brain has stopped working. 

“Yeah?” Your heart stutters at his tone and the tilt of his head as he says it. Your thighs tense around his hand for a moment before you try to calm down, un-tense them but they can’t help the way they tremble with anticipation. You’re nodding at him more frantically and his eyelids flutter. “Okay.” He takes one hand out from between your thighs and rests it on your lower back as his other hand keeps massaging, slowly moving up your inner thigh and the sensations grow more intense the higher he gets. 

Your eyes shut and your hands grip his wrists again, not pulling away, just holding him. Your eyes shut and your hips tilt into his hand, getting him so close to your pussy that he can feel the heat radiating off of her. You feel some sort of shame twinge in your belly, dampening the more intense feelings that Miguel was causing. What if this was wrong? What if you aren’t supposed to feel like this with him, without him knowing… Maybe you should stop. 

Miguel moves further up and all those thoughts scatter from your head immediately. His watch vibrates again and a noise shoots out of your mouth- one you’ve never heard before as your body folds over and your head rests on his shoulder. You shut your eyes tight and take a slow, deep breath. “Sorry. Sorry, I-” He cuts you off. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here, right?” He’s nodding at you, comforting and reassuring as his hand leaves your back to cradle your head. “You’re okay. I wanna help you, cariño.” Another noise leaves you at the nickname and his hand grips into your hair for a moment before sliding down to your neck and pulls your head away from his shoulder. He pushes your head against his for a moment, letting out a soft groan before letting go and pushing his fingers against your plush lips. 

“How’s that, honey?” His hand settles back on your lower back as you whine and your hands move up his arm, gripping his biceps now and pulling yourself closer to him. “Miguel.” His eyes roll back at how you sound, desperate, breathless, and gone. Your hips are grinding into his fingers and they aren’t even on your clit yet. They’re pressing against your hole through your lips and your suit, he’s keeping his fingertips flat against you so he doesn’t slip inside. 

He’s trying to ignore the mess he’s making in his pants, watching your tense face change into a relieved one, your eyebrows pulling inward as your lips part beautifully, releasing a shaky moan as he reangles his fingers to your clit. His hands are shaking as he tries to calm himself down, one of your hands slides up his arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before gripping onto his shoulder and pulling him down, closer to your face. His eyes are fixed on your expression, taking everything in, every twitch and quiver, the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips before a whimper punches out of you. 

You’re ruining him and you’re none the wiser. Your hand slides up to his neck and you push your forehead against his, like he did earlier. His eyes roll back before he forces them to you again, moving his fingers over you clit faster when your thighs begin to shake around his wrist. “I think-” Your voice comes out as a whimper and he groans into you. Your fingers grip into his hair and his cock cries against him. “Something… Miguel.” 

The way you say his name fucks with him. It’s prettier than he ever could’ve imagined, he has to lean forward and press his throbbing cock against the edge of the table for relief. You’ve got him feeling like he could die, like he could implode if he doesn’t have you, if after this you realize what you need but get it somewhere else? It’ll be over for him. Your hand readjusts its grip in his hair, becoming more frantic as your spine straightens and your thighs close on his hands. “Miguel? I-” You cut yourself off with a moan and your head falls to his shoulder again, blocking your face from his view.

“No, no.” He brings his hand to the back of your neck again. “Let me see, amor.” He pulls you away from his shoulder and you moan at the nickname. Once again, it didn’t mean to slip out but you’ve got his head so cloudy he can’t help it. You’re moaning his name on repeat, like a warning and he’s pulsing at the thought, the promise of getting to see you cum, for him. His eyes can’t look away from you, he can’t see anything but your face, the way your brows furrow as you tense, and your nails dig into his arms, leaving reminders for later. He watches how you bite your lip before your jaw drops into an ‘O’ shape and his name falls from your lips one more time as a debauched cry. 

He keeps his eyes open, watching you cum for him, how your lips form around his name again and again. He wants to collapse, fall to his knees with how much you’re turning him on but he needs to watch you. He forces himself to keep his eyes on you, ignoring the way they want to roll back at how he’s flooding his pants. His hips twitch against the edge of the table as he cums for you, with you. His mind zeros into the way he can feel your clit pulsing underneath his finger tips, how breathless you sound, trying to keep up with the noises he’s forcing from you. His stomach tenses painfully as his cock unloads more cum onto himself. You sound like an angel, crying out for him. He can’t help the way he dives for you, pulling you in to kiss him and swallowing every moan you’ll give him. 

You whine into his mouth as his fingers slow down over your clit, your other hand meets the first in his hair and you keep his lips on yours. He keeps kissing you until you calm down and your breathing evens out. His hand comes from between your thighs and rubs your legs until you pull back from his lips. You have a bashful, embarrassed look on your face and it brings the largest smile that you’ve ever seen to his face. “Was that okay, pequeña araña?” You whine and pull him in for a hug, nodding into his shoulder as he chuckles and wraps his arms around you as you begin to giggle against him.      

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[teachailattes]

sweet mushrooms ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

tighnari x afab!reader

— ౨ৎ summary: at the time, it seemed like a good idea. something to tease him after he neglected you to finish his countless piles of reports and work. and the pretty glistening pink cap of the mushroom had been so so so tempting. but now, as the heat started to pool between your thighs, you were starting to think that this might’ve been a mistake.

— ౨ৎ cw: smut 18+ MDNI, sub!reader, dom!tighnari, aphrodisiacs, fingering, praise, he’s a lil mean, reader is slightly whiney

— ౨ৎ wc: 1442

you stumbled down the path to tighnari’s home, drunk on the idea of relieving the throbbing between your legs. it was late at night, so there were barely any forest rangers around to see you in such a disheveled state.

he smelt it as soon as you appeared at his door, the sickly sweet scent immediately surrounding his home but he didn’t think much of it until he turned from his desk and saw your blissed out expression.

“‘nari!” you exclaimed, making your way to his desk and clutching his arm desperately. “please please please help me…”

his face morphed into one of concern immediately as he pulled you into his arms and placed his palm on your forehead but even the slightest touch from him had you jolting and letting out a small gasp.

“y/n? what happened? what’s wrong?” he asked, quickly setting you down on his bed, the cool material of his sheets immediately relieving the uncomfortable heat that you were radiating. you squirmed around, trying to strip off the clothes that were feeling suddenly a bit too tight.

“it’s hot…” you whined. you shrugged off the sweater you were wearing, the one that tighnari had purposely given to you to protect you from the chills of the forest nights.

tighnari side-eyed the sweater that had fallen onto the floor and sighed, already having a feeling of what happened but wanting to hear it from your mouth.

“tell me what you did this time.” he asked with a hint of disappointment in his voice, his hands on his hips and his ears flattening.

“a mushroom! it was a…a pink mushroom!” you explained urgently before breaking eye contact with him out of embarrassment. “i…ate it.”

“you did what? it didn’t have white spots on the cap did it?” tighnari snapped, clicking his tongue but the slight ashamed nod from you had him seriously consider kicking you out right now. he knew you knew which mushroom that was and what effects it had because of your giddy “look ‘nari, it’s pink!” when you two had discovered it, so why would you willingly and consciously consume it?

“i knowww” you whined. the constant throbbing was becoming unbearable at this point and your head was becoming more muddled by the second. the only thing rotting in that muddled brain of yours was to relieve the aching pain. you could deal with the consequences and lectures later, you just needed tighnari now.

tighnari took one more look at you before starting to come closer. he was used to your antics already, but he really didn’t think that you would be this much trouble. he could certainly leave you in this predicament and have you learn your lesson by dealing with it yourself, but having experienced some unbearable heats before he wouldn’t want you to leave you to this suffering alone. and he loved you. that too. despite how many times you make him want to rip out his tail sometimes.

and so, begrudgingly, he gave you what you wanted.

with another click of his tongue, he took your hand and guided you onto his bed. you bounced on the soft mattress with a slight “mmph!”

he sighed again as he held himself up with one arm while the other found its way onto your waist. his touch sent shivers up your spine and you tried to arch into his touch, to feel more of it but he only held you down.

“calm down. you’ll get what you want. but you won’t learn your lesson this way.” he mumbled as he focused on the growing damp spot on the cotton underwear you were wearing.

when his finger pushed against your clit and started rubbing slow circles through your underwear you let out a loud whine and your hips immediately shook from the sensitivity.

“shh..you don’t want everyone in gandharva ville to know of your mistake now do you?” tighnari whispered into your ear as his fingers continued rubbing teasing circles onto your clit, pushing against the fabric.

“mm..!” you jolted, only causing tighnari to let out an amused chuckle at your predicament. you could hear the sloppy wet sounds at your pussy and most definitely could feel the stickiness pooling around your hole. you felt so hot, oh so hot.

“hm. what a mess.” tighnari mumbled, sliding down your panties before spreading your folds apart now and slowly inserting one finger. “maybe i should rewrite the ‘avidya forest survival guide’.…or maybe not since i doubt anyone would be as silly as you to eat mushrooms they know the effect of.”

“aah~! this is…” you can barely comprehend his words, completely blissed out from the feeling of his touch right against your most sensitive spot.

“don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon.”

you needed more. this was nowhere near enough. letting out a soft whimper, you grabbed at his arm and tried to quicken his motions.

“haah…aahn~! feels…so..good..mm!”

sighing, he let you set your pace as he added another finger. your mind was so fuzzy and it was like your senses had intensified tenfold. all you could hear was him, his scent, his heavy breathing next to your ear. you could tell he was enjoying this as much as you were.

his fingers reached a sweet spot inside of you and you cried out, body shaking.

“..’nari.. more~!”

“you don’t even know what you do to me sometimes.” tighnari breathed out.

you could feel the pleasure in your stomach start to increase and your legs shook as he continued to pound his fingers into your pussy.

“mm-! sooo hot…‘nari…’nari i’m gonna…” you moaned out, hand still holding onto his arm for support. by now, his eyes held a fire to it and he started to move his fingers faster.

“it’s okay. you can cum, you’re doing fine.” he praised, angling his finger up again into your sweet spot and his other hand started to rub at your clit again.

his praise mixed with his ministrations on your clit was what sent you over the edge.

“aaah~! mmm~~! ah! ‘nari..!” you leaned forward into his chest as you reached your peak, hand clutching on his arm to keep your shaking body stable.

“hah…so tight.” tighnari groaned, feeling you clench down on his fingers. he let go of your clit and wrapped his arm around you, bringing you closer into him as his fingers continued to help you ride out your high.

you started to push lightly at his arm when the sensation became too much and it had started to hurt.

“..sensitive..” you mumbled tiredly, collapsing into him. he got the hint and slowly brought his fingers out. you felt drained and the heat that was unbearable a few moments ago was slowly fizzling away now.

tighnari was breathing heavily as he leaned backwards with his other arm supporting him.

“oh jeez.. you’re quite something you know that.” he sighed as he lifted up his hand and moved his fingers to show you the wet strings attached.

“do you feel better now?” he asked, his expression softening.

you nodded quietly, the blush from your release intensifying with the embarrassment you felt seeing your essence on his hand. the intense heat was gone now and your head felt much clearer.

“what? nothing to say now?” tighnari quipped before smiling and leaning in to press his lips against yours. you melted into the sweet kiss, savoring the softness of his lips.

when you both pulled away, you directed your gaze to the ground. “sorry ‘nari..i got carried away.” you admitted.

“don’t worry about it, i’m used to you after all. if it really did bother me i wouldn’t be here with you right now anyway.” he said affectionately. “what matters is that you feel better now and it wasn’t anything serious. hm, although i do wish you would stop trying dangerous things just to get my attention.”

you looked back at him, beaming. so he did know! That’s your smart boyfriend!

“hehe, it’s fun don’t you think?” you giggled proudly, with your hands on your hips.

he scoffed. “i’m surprised you still have so much energy after all that. perhaps i should send you to cook meals the entire week.”

“whaaat? noooo don’t!” you whined. “okay i’m sorry, i’m sorry!”

“what i get for falling in love with you i suppose.” tighnari mumbled with a soft smile as he patted your head with his clean hand.

“awww! you’re so sweet! i love you more~!”

“if you do, then you better let me finish up my work.”

“bleh.”

— end ౨ৎ 

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: alien intelligences

Intelligent spiders, octupi, plants, bacteria, and even entire oceans, intelligence without sentience, extra terrestrials and strange intelligences evolved right here on Earth - alien minds can take many forms. Allow me to share with you some books featuring the most alien and fascinating ones.

Previous book rec posts:

Really cool fantasy worldbuilding, really cool sci-fi worldbuilding, dark sapphic romances, mermaid books, vampire books, many worlds: portal fantasies, many worlds: alternate timelines, robots and artificial intelligences, post- and transhumanism

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

The Doors of Eden by Adrian Tchaikovsky*

The Doors of Eden is something of an experiment in speculative biology, featuring versions of Earth in which various different species were the one to rise to sentience, from dinosaurs to neanderthals. Now, something is threatening the existence of all timelines, dragging multiple different people and species into the struggle, among those a pair of cryptid hunting girlfriends and a transgender scientist.

Children of Time by Adrian Tchaikovsky*

Millenia and generation spanning scifi. After the collapse of an empire, a planet once part of a project to uplift other species to sentience is left to develop on its own, resulting not in the intelligent monkeys once intended but in sentient giant spiders. Millenia later, what remains of humanity arrives looking for a new home, only to be met by the artificial remains of the ancient woman who once led the uplift project - and she is not willing to let them on her planet.

Semiosis (Semiosis duology) by Sue Burke

A generational story following a group of humans trying to survive on a new planet, where a strange and unkowable intelligence is finding ways to use them to its whims. As the humans come across an abandoned city wrapped in the roots of a strange plant, they slowly come to the realization that mutual communication is the only path to peace and survival.

The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu

While I felt the characters could’ve been better developed, this is undeniably a well-written novel featuring an alien race and culture developed on a planet vastly different from ours. Firmly in the realm of hard scifi, this is a realistic, fascinating and slightly terrifying look at how first contact may look.

Brain Plague (The Elysium Cycle) by Joan Sloncewski*

Chrys, a struggling artist, agrees to become a carrier for a sentient strain of microbes. With their help, Chrys breathes new life into her career. But every microbe society is different - some function as friends and brain enhancers to their carrier, while others become a literal brain plague, a living addiction taking over the life of their carrier. And like every society, the microbe community is in constant flux - inluding the one inside Chrys's head.

Rosewater (The Wormwood trilogy) by Tade Thompson

In Nigeria lies Rosewater, a city bordering on a strange, alien biodome. Its motives are unknown, but it’s having an undeniable effect on the surrounding life. Kaaro, former criminal and current psychic agent for the government, is one of the people changed by it. When other psychics like him begin getting killed, Kaaro must take it upon himself to find out the truth about the biodome and its intentions.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on.

Blindsight by Peter Watts*

Vampires and aliens and questions of the nature of consciousnesses, oh my. A ship is sent to investigate the sudden appearance of an alien vessel at the edge of the solar system, but the crew, a group of various level of transhumanism, isn’t prepared for the horrors awaiting them. No, seriously, this book will fuck you up, highly recommend if you’re okay with a lot of techno babble and existential horror.

Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson*

Utterly unique in world-building, story, and prose, Midnight Robber follows young Tan-Tan and her father, inhabitants of the Carribean-colonized planet of Toussaint. When her father commits a terrible crime, he’s exiled to a parallel version of the same planet, home to strange aliens and other human exiles. Tan-Tan, not wanting to lose her father, follows with him. Trapped on this new planet, he becomes her worst nightmare. Enter this book with caution, as it contains graphic child sexual abuse.

Fragment (Fragment duology) by Warren Fahy*

The reality TV show Sealife is having a rough time - as it turns out, a ship full of scientist doesn’t make for the kind of drama they hoped for. Hoping for some excitement, they reach Hender's Island, a fragment of a lost continent that may contain an interesting new ecosystem. But as they step foot on the island, they quickly come to realize the ecosystem isn’t just new, it’s highly dangerous and very hungry. Among all this life is one single species that may be more dangerous than any other, but which may also be the salvation of the scientists on the island. A bit wonky, but genuinely one of the most fun books I have read, I love it so much.

Axiom's End (Noumena trilogy) by Lindsay Ellis

It’s 2007, and a leak has just confirmed that the US has reached alien contact. Cora wants nothing to do with it, but as her absent father is the whistleblower who dropped the news the media won’t leave her alone. Even worse, she soon finds herself meeting and being pursued by the alien presence itself as it tries to remain in hiding - and discovering that there is a much larger threat on the horizon.

The Road to Roswell by Connie Willis*

Francie has just traveled to Roswell to attend her college friend's wedding to a UFO conspirasist. Not a believer herself, Francie is shocked when she finds herself abducted by an alien. Her abductor is not much what popular media would have you believe, looking more like a tumbleweed than a grey alien, and is clearly on some kind of mission it isn’t willing to put on hold for the sake of Francie attending to her duties as a bridesmaid. As more people get roped along - among those a conman, an old lady, a ufo conspirasist, and a retiree with an RV - Francie finds herself getting closer to the alien and wanting to help it succeed.

Bonus rec: if you like this book, you may also enjoy the movie Paul, which has a similarly humorous tone and similar plot.

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir*

Ryland Grace just woke up up from a coma, unable to remember anything. He finds himself alone on a space ship, and as his memories slowly trickle back, he realizes he's been sent on a mission: to find a solution to the impending doom of the earth. Still struggling with holes in his memories, Ryland tries to fulfill his mission, but as he gets closer to his goal, he discovers someone else got there first. And they aren't anything close to human. Funny, heartfelt, and heavy on the science.

Survival by Julie E. Czerneda

Mac, a biologist studying salmon on Earth, has little interest in life beyond her own planet. Despite this, she’s sought out by Brymn, an alien archaeologist hoping her expertise as a biologist can help him solve the secret behind the Chasm, a region of space completely devoid of life. Trying as she might not to get incolved, Mac has little choice as she and her colleagues come under attack by the mysterious Ro, the species Brymn's people suspect to be the cause of the Chasm.

Translation State by Ann Leckie*

An exploration of the alien as filtered through the human. At what point does the human become something else? When does something else become human? Is it a question of biology or culture, nature or nurture? Can we choose it? Can it be forced upon us? Set in the Imperial Radch universe, Translation State follows three different characters embroiled in the question of what makes a human. The alien Presger can only communicate with humans using their translators - people they’ve created that are not quite human and not quite alien. But as news of a translator fugitive arises, conflict brews regarding what right they have to choose their own identity and home.

Exo (Exo duology) by Fonda Lee*

Young adult. Earth has long since been under the control of an alien presence. Donovan Reyes is an exo, a human enhanced with alien technology, working to keep the colony and its people safe. The biggest enemy is Sapience, a terrorist organisation opposing alien rule by any means necessary. When a mission goes awry, Donovan finds himself abducted by Sapiance, something that risks a war. While it took until the second book for me to be fully sold on this series, it features a genuinely nuanced take on oppression and resistance rarely seen in YA genre.

Needle by Hal Clement

1950s classic. A small island in the pacific ocean and a fourteen-year-old boy have just become the center of an interstellar chase between an alien Hunter and the criminal he's pursuing. Robert is a regular boy, but he has a very special passenger: an alien symbiont hiding inside his body. The alien became stranded on Earth as he pursued a criminal of his own species, and now they are both trapped on the same island, playing a game of cat and mouse as Robert and the Hunter struggle to find their prey before it finds them.

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (Wayfarers series) by Becky Chambers

Rosemary Harper just got a job on the motley crew of the Wayfarer, a spaceship that works with tunneling new wormholes through space. With a past she wants to leave behind, Rosemary is happy to travel the far reaches of the universe with the chaotic crew, but when they land the job of a life time, things suddenly get a lot more dangerous. A bit of a tumblr classic in its day, this is a cozy space opera with an episodic feel and vividly realized characters and cultures.

Under the Skin by Michel Faber

A dark allegory of alienation and dehumanization, Under the Skin follows Isserley, a woman traveling along the roads of England and picking up hitchhikers. Little does her passengers know, she’s an alien hiding her true self, and they are her prey and a delicacy for her species.

Solaris by Stanislaw Lem

1960s Polish classic. Arriving on a station orbiting the planet Solaris, Kris Kelvin is meant to study the strange, possibly sentient ocean that covers its entire surface. But the effects of the ocean are far reaching - Kelvin finds the crew of the station secretive and unstable, and is shocked to wake one day to the embodiement of a long dead lover. Was it created by the brain-like ocean, and if so, why?

West of Eden (West of Eden trilogy) by Harry Harrison

65 million years ago, the meteor that killed the dinosaurs never arrived. Without it, the dinosaurs lived and thrived, allowing a the complex society of the matriarchal Yilanè to arise. Meanwhile, in the new world, humans still evolve, and when an impending ice age forces the Yilanè across the ocean in search for a new home, the two are destined to clash. A bleak story of the cycle of violence and hate leading to war, West of Eden is a marvel of world-building.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

Triptych by J.M. Frey

Kalp is a widower and alien refugee newly arrived on Earth; Gwen is a language expert secretly recruited by the United Nations to help integrate a ship of alien refugees; Basil is an engineer who loves them both. Together they must defend their relationship against a violently intolerant world.

The Sparrow (The Sparrow duology) by Mary Doria Russell

When proof of alien life is found, the United Nations are too slow in their plans for a first contact mission. Instead, the Society of Jesus overtake them and send their own ship, but the crew could never have been prepared for what they will find.

Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor

Something massive and alien crashes into the ocean off the coast of Nigeria. Three people, a marine biologist, a rapper, and a soldier, find themselves encountering this presence, and have to race to save humanity before it's too late.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: Salvaged by Madeleine Roux, Exodus by Nicky Drayden, The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull, Embassytown by China Miéville

[wishful-thinking64]

One Hell of an Unpopular Opinion #05

Apology Tour completely dismantles the very thought of Stolitz ever being a remotely healthy relationship once they actually become canon on account of AT proving that Stolas doesn't truly love Blitzø for who he is but rather the idealized version of him that Stolas created within his own head and could be replaced by anyone who's willing to take/play Stolas' idealized role of a partner. __________

As much as I hate Full Moon for wasting so much of the audiences time, it did give us that scene where Blitzø was finally sick of Stolas' shit and told him off for it. However, since it's HB the show immediately tries to run damage control in it's next episode, Apology Tour. This is not only another episode that I despise but it's also the one that solidified my hatred for Stolas and his character. In the beginning of Apology Tour, Stolas bitches and moans over how Blitzø is still making their "relationship" about sex when, news flash, it's ALWAYS been about sex because you, Stolas, have kept it that way to the point where your victim feels like he has to sleep with you in order to DESERVE to keep his OWN BUSINESS RUNNING!

And Blitzø isn't wrong! Their "relationship" has always been, as Blitzø worded it back in Season #01 of HB, "a transactional fucking." Why would he see it as anything different when that's how its always been? Now, how does Stolas reply to this?

Honestly, this IS very shocking Stolas as I believe this might be the first time where you and Blitzø have interacted with one another where you're not blatantly sexualizing or romanticizing him on screen! After this he says that Blitzø should respect the fact that he isn't in the mood to sleep with or even speak to him right now. Mind you, whenever Blitzø has told Stolas in the past that he isn't in the mood to sleep with him or be flirted with, Stolas has respected that notion ONE TIME which was after the fiasco at Ozzie's back from Season #01. Otherwise, Stolas hasn't respected his boundaries for shit. Boundaries are important but you two aren't in a real relationship and even if you were respect is still a two way street. If you command respect from someone you choose to CONTINUE to disrespect on a CONSTANT/CONSISTENT basis then why the hell should they respect you? If it wasn't for his book, Blitzø wouldn't have any incentive to cross paths with Stolas at all.

Anyway, literal seconds later, Stolas tells Blitzo how he got invited to an annual anti-Blitzø party and comments on how he's above such silly nonsense only for him to quickly change his tune upon seeing Blitzø's annoyed and enraged reaction to seeing that Verosika is behind this petty pity party.

This starts a back and forth with Stolas demanding that Blitzø leaves. This results in Blitzø, yet again, reinstating on what their relationship truly is and how Stolas fetishizes him which discomforts Stolas because deep down he knows what Blitzø is saying is true.

Now, I won't get into the conversation that takes place after this comment as the critical side of the Helluva Boss fandom on Tumblr has already (rightfully) torn it to shreds. So instead, I'll save us all some time by simply skipping ahead to when Stolas is at the party after that Incubus guy (that rabbid Stolitz shippers hate) asks him if he wants to dance and why I despise that entire scene.

We see that Blitzø is uncomfortable with this and Stolas KNOWS that he's uncomfortable with this random guy asking Stolas to dance with him as Stolas made DIRECT EYE CONTACT with Blitzø! Now, Blitzø does effectively advise that Stolas take up the Incubus' offer with a hand gesture HOWEVER for Stolas to claim that he's always been in love with Blitzø and that he has eyes for him and him alone only to later MAKE OUT WITH A STRANGER just proves and validates Blitzø's feelings that you don't actually love or care about him! And moments before this scene Stolas says this.

THEN GO AND FIND THAT PERSON AS LITERALLY ANYBODY CAN DO THAT! YOU DO NOT LOVE BLITZØ, YOU MERELY LOVE THE CONCEPT OF BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM BECAUSE TO YOU, YOU SEE HIM AS A "CHILDHOOD FRIEND" WHEN IN REALITY YOU KNEW HIM AND HUNG AROUND HIM FOR ONE DAY SINCE YOUR FATHER BOUGHT HIM TO BE YOUR PLAYMATE FOR A SINGLE DAY! ... *Ahem.* In conclusion, there's no amount of future retconning that Viv and Spindlehorse can do to successfully make Stolitz appear as a genuinely healthy ship without trashing the entirety of Apology Tour but even that would create/introduce an entire new set of problems. __________

Man, I've been wanting to get this one off my chest for a while as I haven't seen many people bring up these scenes from AT when discussing how and why Stolas doesn't love Blitzø. I hope you enjoyed reading my thoughts this time around and I'll see you later!

[elysiansparadise]

My cap Venus lives for ur aesthetic and work 💗 I would love ur insight on Saturn in the 2nd 🪐

Hello love! Thanks for your words. 💗

Saturn in the 2nd house

With this placement it is very likely that the natives felt a sense of insecurity, they may think that they had never experienced what it was like to have a safe place to turn to when things went wrong, the lack of stability and order in their lives and that they experienced many things. that made them have to witness how what they or their family built, collapsed. The fear of putting effort into something only to have it collapse later. The fear of never having something secure and constant in their lives. They could have had economic problems since they were children or grew up in a home without structure. They had to assume the role of those who never broke, whom life could not move or provoke, many times being the support of the people around them or simply creating this mentality of "not causing more problems than there already were." They get used to carrying everything themselves, for fear of putting more burdens on the shoulders of those they love. Problems with self-acceptance and the mistaken idea of ​​having to do or achieve something to be loved. They have a big insecurity, and this is not having enough, either from sufficient material goods to survive or feeling that they are not enough.

Many are highly alert and wary when it comes to having others around, no matter how charming they may behave, it is difficult to let someone in completely. Many of them are very selective, and not only that, but they avoid very direct physical contact with other people, and can appear distant in that aspect. They usually know how to manage their money very well since they know how difficult it is to earn it. Financial growth can be slow but steady. Often, these people experience gradual progress in accumulating material goods and wealth. They are very persistent people when it comes to getting what they want and they highly value hard work. They hate laziness, both feeling that they are being lazy and the people around them are being lazy. Despite how secretive and selective they may seem, when they find people they value, they can be fiercely loyal and steadfast. These people can do many things for those they know they want to have around. Many of them have this way of thinking of giving to others the same thing that they give to the natives, they will never go out of their way to give to those who do not do the same for them. These natives are very consistent when it comes to giving to causes they feel are worthwhile. Consistency and stability are everything for them, even outside of economic aspects.

Material security is a priority. These people work hard to ensure they have a solid financial foundation that will provide them with long-term stability. Financial success for these natives can come later in life, after years of constant and disciplined effort. However, once they achieve it, it tends to be long-lasting and stable. They have a strong belief in the value of personal effort and in earning one's livelihood through hard work. These people tend to feel more secure and satisfied when they know they have earned what they have. Many of them have learned to work independently after what they want, so it can be difficult for them to accept support. Many of them may even have problems accepting gifts or gifts from other people [although that doesn't mean they don't like it]. These people manage their resources effectively, and by resources I not only include economic ones, but all of them. They will not spend their energy or time on things that are not worth it, neither on projects, nor jobs, much less people.

-> Go back to the masterlist

[transformers-synergize]

How dangerous is energon for humans in synergize? Obviously they can’t like. Drink it. But is touching it dangerous?

Energon isn't exactly safe, but it's not extremely dangerous as long as it's handled properly. Energon is sorta like supercharged battery acid, at least in the way it affects humans. Skin contact with energon will result in painful burn chemical burns and often can leave noticeable scarring. Energon also has a unique constant electric charge. Both effects can be avoided using protection such as gloves or transporting it in non-conductive material.

Energon also emits a unique energy wave, the same one emitted by cybertronian sparks and the Allspark itself. The long-term effects on organics exposed to these energy waves are mostly unknown, if there even is an effect at all. Energon effect on organics is poorly studied, and with the variety of biological life structures, organic comes in across the universe. Even if there was a lot of research on it, it likely wouldn't be fully applicable to earth life.

Also Ya, if you drink energon, you gonna die or at least have permanent debilitating organ damage. 

[atzloverr]

Chapter 8 - selfish desire

previous chapter - next chapter

series masterlist

warning! includes yandere themes, violence, abuse, kidnapping, (see masterlist for more)

“I know she’s not.”

Yeosang took a deep breath, listening attentively to his roommate’s hoarse voice.

“I know she’s not dead.”

He glanced at Wooyoung’s eyes which stared into nothingness. His wide stare made the dark bags under his eyes even more apparent. Yeosang had almost given up on trying to get his roommate to eat for the past few days, seeing as he only got more aggressive for every day that passed. Keyword, almost.

He could barely admit that his friend was in denial, because Yeosang himself didn’t want to realize that you were actually dead. The difference was that Yeosang had started to get used to the thought.

He wanted Wooyoung to be right about you. He wanted you to still be alive somewhere. But he couldn’t let himself dream like that, not even for a second. He already knew what effects it would have.

“She would never give up on me. She would never just admit that I…” Wooyoung stopped mid sentence, his breath hitching in his throat.

The two sat in silence for minutes, the only audible sounds being an occasional sniffle from either of them.

This might’ve been the first time they had been able to hold a conversation without Wooyoung breaking down in sobs, but Yeosang honestly preferred that. This eerie silence didn’t do anything to soothe his nerves.

“Woo—“

“Don’t say it!” Wooyoung shouted, making his roommate almost jump in a start. “Don’t tell me that I need to let it go, or that this isn’t good for me. I can’t—“ Wooyoung’s breath got caught in his throat, tears starting to flow from his eyes once again.


He didn’t get to finish his sentence before getting embraced by Yeosang, not a single word leaving either of their mouths until they finally fell asleep for the night, still holding onto each other.

Hours later, Yeosang could feel himself slowly drifting awake, his heavy eyelids reluctantly opening.

“Yeosang-ah,” Wooyoung shook him. Yeosang sat up quickly at the sudden commotion. “Remember that friend of yours, the one who’s a cop now?”

Yeosang blinked slowly, processing the question in his dazed state. He only replied with a nod. “I have an idea.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jongho couldn’t hide the shock on his face when his old friend barged into his office one day. After years of not talking, here he was, probably looking the least tidied up anyone had ever seen him.

“Hey, been a while hasn’t it,” Yeosang said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Jongho nodded slowly, an amused laugh leaving his lips, formed in a small smirk.

When Yeosang explained the reason for his visit, Jongho patiently listened, as his confusion only grew.

“Why are you so interested anyway? Had a crush on the girl or something?”

Yeosang nearly choked at Jongho’s blunt approach, but soon composed himself.

“No… In fact, she’s a… dear friend to me,” Yeosang said, a far away look in his eyes. Although you were Wooyoung’s friend first and foremost, Yeosang had built a fondness of you over the past years. You had become his friend too, and of course, the news of your death had affected his life as well.

Seeing Wooyoung in the state he was in didn’t exactly help with Yeosang’s constant anxiety right now. As much as he wanted to be the perfect friend for Wooyoung and be there for him in these hard times, this had taken a toll on Yeosang’s own mental health.

“Okay… Here’s her file. This is everything we’ve got so far. You’re lucky you’ve got a contact here. This is confidential,” Jongho said, pointing the finger on the table at each syllable of the last word.

Yeosang slowly took your file and opened it up. There was basic information about you and details about the day you had last been seen. Yeosang eyed it further, seeing that there were barely any details about what could’ve happened, or how they even found you in that lake.

“Have the police working on this even tried to solve this?” Yeosang asked, huffing in annoyance. “What do you mean they don’t know how long she was in the lake!? Isn’t there a way to find that out?” Yeosang raged. Jongho’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Trust me, if I was allowed to interfere, I would,” Jongho sighed. Yeosang closed the file, not even wanting to look at the pictures of your deceased body that were shown in the end.

“Now, could you show me the file of Jeong Yunho?” Yeosang asked, tone serious, looking straight into Jongho’s wide eyes.

Since this was the only thing on Wooyoung’s mind, he had made all types of bizarre connections to other things, trying to make sense of what happened. As much as Yeosang didn’t even want to think it, he had to admit your two cases were very alike, also having happened around the same time, only two weeks in between each other.

“Know the guy?” Jongho asked, searching on his computer. Yeosang looked around the room. “Well, not exactly, but…” Jongho quirked a brow at his odd behavior. “Whatever, I’ll explain it to you once we get the file okay?”

Jongho stood up to go and fetch it, just humming in agreement. He had to admit he would’ve preferred a phone call or text message before getting a sudden visit from his old friend, but what to do…

When Jongho slammed the case file on the table, Yeosang wasted no time in opening it, letting his eyes take in everything. He placed Yunho’s file next to yours, silently comparing the two.

“Look here,” Yeosang alerted the younger male. “Don’t you find this odd? Two victims, going to the same university, get abducted almost exactly two weeks in between each other, and both of them later get found dead. This can’t be a coincidence…” Yeosang ran a hand through his hair. Jongho silently studied Yeosang’s troubled expression.

“I do admit the person responsible probably has some sort of connection to both of them, but I’m not sure if—“

“Do we know that they’re dead?” Jongho’s jaw dropped slightly in shock. “Yes. They have been declared dead by the department, they—“, “Do we know? Have you seen the bodies?”

Jongho coughed slightly at the questions. “Well, no, but I’m not allowed to interfere. It’s not my case to work on.”

Yeosang closed the files, meeting Jongho’s gaze with a fierce expression. “So, who works on it? Have they made any progress with finding the killer?”

“Yeosang, we don’t even know if it’s the same killer, this could just be two completely unrelated events that only cause suspicion in you because you cared about the girl.”

Yeosang’s unforgiving eyes didn’t waver. It made Jongho squirm in his spot.

“Do you really think that’s the way it is?” Yeosang asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly. Jongho sighed deeply. “My opinion on this isn’t necessary, it’s—“

“Tell me, Jongho.”

A silence filled the small office, Jongho continuing to fidget with his sleeves uncomfortably. Another deep sigh was heard from Jongho before he sat down. Yeosang almost made a gesture in happiness. Finally, he had given in.

“Of course I think they’re related. I think almost everyone in the station does. Well, everyone except the ones who are working on it,” Jongho poured out, a huff of frustration leaving his mouth. Yeosang blinked.

“Who are the ones working on it?” Yeosang asked, eyes still plastered on the officer in front of him. “Officer Choi and Lee. They often work together, despite their record of putting cases down when they’re far from solved,” Jongho looked away.

“Full names please.”

“Choi Sangcheol and Lee Mansik,” Jongho said, no longer hesitant to reveal information. Yeosang quickly noted the two names on his phone.

“Thank you for this, Jongho. I don’t think you understand what this means to us,” Yeosang confessed, giving his friend a smile the officer had learned to miss over the years. “Us?” Jongho questioned.

“Remember Wooyoung?” Jongho’s eyes widened at the name, memories of their high school days coming back. “He’s Y/n’s best friend. They’ve known each other for years…”

Jongho gasped slightly and nodded, understanding the situation. “This won’t be our last time speaking, we should meet sometimes, well, outside of your office,” Yeosang giggled. He gained a smile from the officer, before finally waving goodbye.

Yeosang immediately picked up the phone in his pocket, clicking the number one contact on his list. He didn’t even hear a beep before Wooyoung’s voice was heard.

“Choi Sangcheol and Lee Mansik. They’re the officers working on the case.”

Wooyoung was quiet into the phone for a moment.

“Well, looks like we’ve got some digging to do.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Hongjoong’s firm hands laid themselves on Seonghwa’s small waist, the small fingers gently digging themselves into the back of his lover. Hongjoong’s eyes were closed, and he couldn’t help but smile when Seonghwa’s slender fingers caressed his neck.

Pulling the man closer, Hongjoong started slowly dancing to the jazzy tune playing from the record player. Seonghwa’s deep voice hummed the song, having memorized it from how often Hongjoong would play it.

“Your voice is so beautiful, my love,” Hongjoong whispered. “Only for me.”

The two continued their slow dancing in the large living room, their hands roaming each other’s bodies more desperately for every second that passed, the slightly seductive mood getting further escalated by the sound of the piano getting gently played in the beautiful music playing.

Your eyes fluttered open, and your head immediately whipped around in panic as you took in the unfamiliar room you found yourself in. Like every time you had woken up in this place, your breath soon quickened, your heartbeat rising as your confusion grew.

Sitting up, you noticed to your surprise that you were not held back by any restraints.


The room was quite small, and had a cozy atmosphere. Bookshelves surrounded the room, a small window with all kinds of complicated locks facing the dark forrest being the only light source expect for the small light on the bedside table. You gazed out the window when you stood up, not wanting to believe that you were in fact surrounded by the deepest forrest you had ever seen, not any other dorm of civilization in sight.

You tip-toed around the room, examining it further, when you suddenly stopped. Music. Music was playing from the bottom floor. You recognized the song. It was a from a jazz vinyl your parents always used to play to you when you were a child.

Your hand rose to your opened mouth, a single tear trickling down your cheek at the familiar sound. You would’ve never found it peculiar that anyone else played this specific song, as it was pretty popular, but with what you had learned about Hongjoong and his stalking tactics so far, you felt goosebumps creeping up your neck.

You heard the sound of someone humming the melody, followed by a few words being exchanged.

Envisioning the living room below you, you were reminded by the events of the night before. You were still wearing that same outfit Hongjoong had picked out for you.

You could practically hear your own screams as you recalled the memory, more tears now exiting your swollen eyes as the song continued to play downstairs.

You quickly wiped your tears away, before walking towards the almost closed door. You made sure to open it as slowly as you could, not wanting to risk making any noise. A creak was heard and you immediately stopped and listened for footsteps, voices, anything. Nothing was heard.

Taking a deep breath through your mouth, you continued to open the door. You wanted to jump in joy when it decided to be silent when you opened it just enough for you to seep through the space.

“My angel,” you heard. You could easily identify it as Hongjoong’s voice. You could tell who it was directed to, having only heard him use that tone with one person before. Seonghwa.

You stood close to the wall before slowly itching closer to the stairs. You tried to properly remember the layout of the house, after only seeing it once, briefly. You knew the stairs led to the living room, meaning that if Hongjoong was there, you were going to be caught if you went down.

You furrowed your eyebrows. There were three other doors on this floor. One seeming to lead to a bathroom, while the others remained unknown. The window in the room you woke up in seemed to have some sort of system, too complicated for you to figure out before getting caught. Surely, not all windows were like that, right?


You slowly walked back into the corridor, heading towards the first room that was not the one you were just in. You tried to open it just as, if not even more carefully as you had the other, still not opening it more than necessary, just enough for you to sneak inside.

Knowing that Seonghwa was downstairs, you figured it was no danger walking in to the other rooms. You had no idea where Yunho was, but you figured he would only help you find an escape if he were to meet you up here.

You snaked yourself inside the gap, almost holding your breath to not make any noise. Your eyes widened as you took in the large room. It was such a contrast to the other room you had been in, the huge bed not being an exception. Your eyes found the window, it too being extraordinary big.

Despite facing the other way, this window also only showed the woods. Where was this place, seriously?

You studied the frame, and noticed it had none of those complicated locks. You were almost shaking with excitement, but soon stopped to take a breath.

What was going to happen to Yunho once you left? Was he going to be tortured endlessly for your wrongdoings? You didn’t even want to think about it.

No. If you got out, you could contact the police and make sure they found him and arrested these two. Your shaky hands reached out to the window. You knew it was pretty high up, but looking down, you saw that it would probably be possible to climb your way down without falling. Well, probably.

You hadn’t noticed the music having stopped playing, too focused on your desperate need to get out, so you didn’t notice the silent footsteps behind you either, as you twisted the handle, getting ready to get yourself out.

Your breath caught in your throat when a large hand covered yours, twisting back the handle harshly, and twisting your wrist in the process, almost making you squeal from the pain. Another hand landed over your mouth, and you felt your body getting pulled into a large chest, arms not wavering despite your constant squirming.

“Shh, it’s me,” a voice whispered. Your head jolted back to find the source. Yunho.

Your eyes widened in confusion. “Please, it’ll just make things easier if you—“

“Well well,” another voice said, making both of your heads snap towards the two men standing in the doorway. Hongjoong stood in front of Seonghwa, whose eyes almost held a sad, betrayed expression. Hongjoong’s eyes however, only made you want to hide away in fear, close your eyes and flee from the reality of the situation. They were filled with pure rage, while his mouth still held an amused smile. As if he enjoyed being this angry.

Yunho’s hands immediately left your body before he took a long step away from you. You glanced at him and felt even more scared now that you had no one to lean on. Hongjoong’s gaze was only fixated on you.

“What an interesting little scene we’ve happened to walk in on, hm?” he said, clearly directing towards Seonghwa, even with his eyes plastered on you. You looked over to Yunho for any kind of ‘help’, but he looked down at the wooden floor instead, avoiding any sort of contact.

Hongjoong gently led Seonghwa into the room before harshly slamming the door behind him, locking it shortly after.

You felt your entire body shake, even though you were well clothed. Beside you, you heard Yunho’s quick breaths, not doing anything to calm you down.

Hongjoong took a few strides towards the two of you, Seonghwa still standing by the door. Now, your eyes had also found the floor, not daring to look anywhere else.

Hongjoong’s feet came into your field of view, and you almost closed your eyes to somewhat brace yourself for what was to come. You lowered your head further, but nothing came. Hongjoong soon walked over to the man standing next to you. Only now did you manage to look up, fearing for Yunho’s life almost, even though it felt as if he had just prevented you from getting yours back.

He had also elevated his gaze, and looked Hongjoong right in the eyes. You wondered how he even dared to.

“What did you do?”

“I prevented her from leaving.”

You felt your bottom lip shivering at their stark and unforgiving voices. In the corner of your eye you spotted Seonghwa, having now sat down on the large bed, silently watching the situation unfold.

“And why did you do that?”

A silence filled the room. You swallowed.

“Because she…”

Yunho’s voice started wavering slightly.

“Because she what?” Hongjoong asked, eyes wider than you had ever seen them before.

“Because she belongs here.”

You shook your head slightly at the words exiting Yunho’s mouth. The shuddering breath leaving your mouth was probably heard by everyone in the room, although no one looked your way.

“That’s right,” Hongjoong praised, his voice suddenly laced with a sort of patronizing and honeyed tone. His hands raised towards Yunho’s head, and you almost darted towards them, but then you noticed the hand’s intent.

Hongjoong’s fingers gently combed through Yunho’s dark locks, pulling it back to reveal his face. With both of his hands tangled in the taller man’s hair, he pulled his head down slightly before letting their lips collide.

You looked at the floor again, and saw the tear falling from your eye to the floor, leaving a small darkened pool on the wood.

“I’m so proud of you,” Hongjoong whispered, but everyone could hear it. “My good boy.”

A quiet sob left your mouth against your will, and even when you kept your eyes on the floor, you could see Hongjoong’s head snapping in your direction. Before you could even react, his hand met your head before slamming it against the wall.

The shock almost outweighed the pain, but after a few seconds, you could feel the aching pounding in your head after the impact.

His fingers found your hair before he pulled you away from the wall harshly, almost causing you to fall. You let out a loud sob at the pain, but soon, a hand was slapped over your mouth. Hongjoong pushed you against the wall once again, this time facing you with his hand over your mouth.

“You,” he said, his voice significantly deeper now. That tone he had just used towards Yunho was long gone. “You ungrateful little brat!”

He slammed you against the wall again, your head taking yet another hit. “Did you really think I left an unguarded and unlocked window so easily accessible to you?” he laughed heartily, while still staring at you with such anger.

“Did you really think that I would just let you escape!?” his tone only got louder and louder, making your legs almost give out from the fear itself.

His hand left your mouth, and you couldn’t even hold back the scream that left you, the pain in your head only growing by the second.

“Shut up!” he yelled, slapping you across the face. You had to admit, the pain from the slap was nothing compared to your head right now, but it was the force of it that made you lose your footing.

You fell to the floor, body slightly leaned against the wall. “What would you have done if you got out, hm? Do you think you would be able to find your way back home!?” he was full on screaming at this point.

“And when you got home, who would be waiting for you? hm? Your parents?” the volume in his voice decreased as he got closer to you, leaning down to talk to you with a low tone.

“They’re glad you’re gone, Y/n. The only person who’ll ever miss you is that pathetic friend of yours, Wooyoung.”

Your eyes widened at the name, your head perking up to meet Hongjoong’s gaze. “Oh! Did you think I didn’t know about your little friend? Your only friend? Oh, it’s okay,” he cooed, looking at your contorted face as you continued sobbing as quietly as you could. “He doesn’t miss you too much.”

In your enraged state, you gained a newfound energy, and raised your leg from where you lay to kick Hongjoong in the stomach. When you expected impact, he managed to dodge your little attack, and backed away from your frustrated self. You let out another weak scream at the pain in your head, your surroundings starting to become blurry.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong signaled, and without needing another word to be said, he walked over to Yunho, who had not moved an inch, and led him out of the room, later locking the door behind him. Of course, all the doors needed keys on both sides, this room being no exception.

Just as you felt yourself starting to doze off into unconsciousness, you got kicked in the stomach. You grunted loudly at the sudden pain.

“Oh no no,” Hongjoong said, his voice back to that sweetened, manipulative tone you hated. “I’m far from done with you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Yunho looked down at his plate of food, not daring to ask any questions. Hongjoong had put on another jazz record he loved, as he happily ate the dinner him and Seonghwa had prepared together. Yunho had watched as they romantically cooked together, kissing each other and acting like a normal couple.

It had been five hours since Hongjoong locked you in the master bedroom.

Hongjoong seemed happier than ever, pinching Seonghwa’s cheek and blinking cutely at Yunho ever so often. While Hongjoong and Seonghwa sat next to each other on the square table, Yunho sat next to an empty spot. The one meant to be occupied by you.

Yunho didn’t know what to think. He didn’t dare think the worst.

Hongjoong had spent hours in that room with you, and ever since that door was locked, Yunho and Seonghwa had to hang out on the bottom floor. Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s bedroom had great isolation, so there was no way of knowing what was going on, but from the sight of Hongjoong’s reddened knuckles, it didn’t seem to be beautiful.

“Aren’t you going to eat, honey?” Seonghwa asked. Yunho looked up at him, offering a small smile. “Sorry I’m not that hungry…”

Seonghwa pouted slightly, and looked over at Hongjoong with a confused face when the shorter man started laughing.

He was continually eyed by the other two when he kept laughing loudly. “Oh Yunho,” he said.

Yunho blinked in confusion. “I can see right through you, y’know?” he laughed. Yunho’s eyes widened.

“I know you’re worried sick about her,” Hongjoong sang, smiling widely. Yunho looked away. “Nothing to be shy about, hey,” Hongjoong comforted, reaching over the table to take Yunho’s hand in his.

“Don’t worry about her. She had it coming,” Hongjoong giggled. Yunho couldn’t even muster a fake smile at the comment. Neither could Seonghwa.

“How long are you planning on?…” Yunho trailed off. Seonghwa gave him a sharp glance.

“You’re asking too many questions,” Seonghwa stated. Yunho looked down in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Until she’s learned her lesson.”

Yunho looked up. He knew that was the worst answers Hongjoong could’ve provided, but the smile never left Hongjoong’s lips as he uttered those words.

my masterlist

hope you guys enjoyed!!! It was about time I posted a new chapter and I have this newfound flow right now so I’m already halfway done with chapter 9!

[azdesertwillow]

Minrathous versus Treviso

I keep seeing posts from both sides of this about how it feels like it's unfairly stacked, particularly in terms of how your companions react to this choice.

But here's the thing, the choices are not a 1:1 parallel so it makes sense that the consequences are not a 1:1 split between Neve or Lucanis.

If you choose to not save Minrathous, the consequences are more intimate. The biggest hit, from a game play perspective while not factoring in companions reactions, is which merchant you have available to you. In the short time I had them during my first playthrough, I was far more attached to the Shadow Dragon's shop keep and her look-out than I ever got in the entirety of my Crows playthrough. You get to hear her story of how she survived the Fifth Blight. And she's not the only backstory you get like this. Much of the early game play in Minrathous is meeting individuals, Neve's contacts, her friends, past clients. It's a person to person connection.

But when you don't come to save them, the Shadow Dragons as an organization are dead. The Viper is blighted, those individuals you've met are either dead, dying, or have gone to ground. I teared up when I found out the merchant's fate. Neve's says her apartment is gone. The Threads move in. Mass hanging. But for the city itself, while it certainly needs restoration and repair, the core of the crisis affecting it is that it's now, essentially, under Venatori occupation, something that Treviso has already been dealing with. There is Blight, and it for sure affects the poor disproportionately, but it's not a universal constant for everyone.

Whereas, if you choose not to save Treviso, it doesn't feel as if you take as big of a hit in terms of beloved NPC's. Viago, Teia, Jacobus are all still alive and as I said, I personally never felt a strong connection to the Crows merchant. And as an organization, the Crows will survive this. Treviso is but one branch of the Crows and they'll recover from this. The intimate, person to person connections loss doesn't feel as large in terms of how they effect your story beats.

But Treviso is dead. They blighted the water of a city that's mainly on water. This will hit everyone, regardless of their station. It will not discriminate, it will kill everyone still there eventually. This is a case of a city full of the walking dead who just haven't fallen over yet. The health and mortality rate will plummet. The birth rate will plummet. They were used to occupation, but how do you fight an occupation within your own body?

Now, in terms of your companions reactions, I'm not factoring in the long term outcomes of the cities post-game or even mid-game as you work to help them. This is just to look at their immediate reactions and the game play mechanics as a result of this decision branch.

To me it makes sense that you get locked out of Lucanis' romance and not Neve's because of the long term realities they are facing. What is directly affecting Neve is raw grief. Those were the people she knew and they're gone now. But ultimately, she knows that those deaths are not on your hands and while it takes a while before she can trust you again, she heals from the grief and pain from the loss of life. Versus Lucanis who just sees the long branching consequences of what has happened to Treviso and knows that he warned you. He warned you that Antiva had no standing military and now his city is dead. And this isn't even factoring in all his personal stuff which canonically he tries to keep you away from him if you do fully romance him. The loss of his city is just the last straw needed to fully shut him down. There's just too much to deal with.

(As for Neve/Lucanis, I think that choice plays more into Lucanis' personal hang ups rather than the Minrathous vs. Treviso choice and this post is very specifically about the cities, not Lucanis' issues).

Now, it's fine if you wish to have that perfect 1:1 consequences comparison when choosing between one or the other. I personally don't like that approach when it comes to things like this because it feels like the writers didn't put deep thought into how this would affect the characters and instead were looking at just how to make it match perfectly and hand wave any characterization that doesn't fit their game mechanics.

But it is my personal opinion that I think it's unfair to say that it feels like a bug or lazy writing or unfinished when to me it feels like the opposite. It feels like they actually looked at the characters, looked at the big picture, and put thought into how this would play out, even if it meant it might tip one way or another. That's a sign of writing staying true to the characters rather than cave in the name of game mechanics.

[liar-liarpantsonfire]

Black Butler Characters reacting to their S/O calling them beautiful!

Ciel Phantomhive

He's immediately blushing and stuttering and fumbling over his words. He's not used to receiving compliments but one from you? There's no way he can play it cool and try to brush it off. He clears his throat, finally making eye contact and a small, kind of awkward "Uhm. Thank you." That is only just audible, leaves his lips.

Sebastian Michealis

He's a little taken back at first. He's awear this form and this act he puts up is extremely attractive and he's received countless compliments and praises for it but its rare someone calls him beautiful. He smiles softly and leans closer, taking you hand and placing a kiss on the corner of your lips. He leans close to your ear and whispers, "Nowhere as beautiful as yourself, dear." Before backing up again.

William T Spears

Although he's used to the constant flirting and compliments from Grell, a compliment from you? How is he supposed to be able to hide that red hue on his cheeks and the small flutter in his stomach. He stutters out a thank you before quickly taking his leave. Oh my you really do have an effect on him.

Grell Sutcliff

She does a slight double take. It's rare she receives compliments at all, much less one's that leave her feeling like this! A blush grazes her cheeks and she's only just able to keep the eye contact between the two of you. She takes your hand and plants a soft kiss on your cheek, her red lipstick leaving a small mark. She smiles and finally says, "Thank you, darling, although that sort of compliment suits you just as well."

Alois Trancy

A blush rushes to his cheeks and he looks in awe of you for a moment before clearing his throat and smiling gently. He doesn't often receive compliments and a compliment from you means the world. He leans a little closer, "Thank you hunny." He says softly, kissing your hand.

Claude Faustus

Like Sebastian, he's a little suprised at first and takes a moment to process what you said. He smiles softly, an almost rare sight, and he takes your hand kissing it softly. "Thank you, dear." You set off an instant spark of love in his heart and although you can see his beauty to him nothing would ever compare to yours.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! Is it possible for you to write something about Tomas with a very blushy s/o? Like they tend to blush or fluster easily and he pokes fun at them even though he's lowkey the same way.

This was…something that kinda went off request. (Is this OOC Smoke? idk you tell me.)

Tomas didn’t mean to take advantage of how easily you fluster but how could he not when you looked so cute with wide doe eyes that adamantly avoided making contact with his, whilst your hands reached up to cover your heated cheeks out of embarrassment, your voice pleading with him to stop his constant teasing. However You never made it easy for Tomas even in the slightest as he would always end up reaching a hand out to lift your head up by the chin so you were forced to look him in the eyes, using his other hand to remove your own from your face, just to add onto the teasing fun by saying; ‘are you flustered?’ Whilst his eyes engaged in every reaction you gift him.

He’d then gasps, ‘oh you are!’ He coos. ‘Dear gods and here I thought you couldn’t get anymore adorable, you, my beloved always end up proving me wrong like always.’ He’d finish whilst receiving a huge power trip from how you’d weakly try to push against his strong chest to create some distance between the two of you, only for him to cage you in his strong arms and hold you against it instead, smiling dopily underneath his mask, a side effect you’ve had on him for a long while now but he wouldn’t want it any other way. ‘Tomas. Stop.’ You’d whine, burying your head into his chest to hide away from him, feeling all sheepish and squirmy beneath his gaze, cheeks still uncomfortably warm from the previous bouts of teasing.

‘Sorry sweetheart but no can do, you’re reactions only encourage me into teasing you even more.’ Tomas said cheekily as he nuzzles his face against your head, tightening his grip on you slightly when he felt you attempt an break out, wanting to keep you caged to his chest forever if possible. ‘You honestly have no idea what you do to me my love but,’ Tomas then moved his head to be level with your ear, you didn’t need to see his mouth to know there was a mischievous smirk because you could feel it through the mask, plus the way his eyes would reflect that same mischief didn’t make matter better either; ‘I’m sure we can find a more intimate way that’ll spell it out loud and clear for everyone to hear just how bad the effect you have on me.’ You felt your whole body heat up at the insinuation as you then smacked Tomas lightly on the bicep.

‘Behave yourself, we’re in public.’ You hissed as you looked at him, conscientious of the possibility that someone, god forbid that someone be Bi-Han, Kuai Liang or even worse both of them, overhearing this and making their own assumptions. Tomas on the other hand couldn’t help but find some form of humour in your furrowed brows and pouty lips; to him, you looked like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum if he didn’t give you what you want. ‘I’m not the one who’s got their head in the gutter though am I?’ He retorts as your left once again huffing, you were staring to understand why he enjoyed poking fun at you from time to time, you fell into his traps so seamlessly that he didn’t have to do too much because you already did that for him and for that you condemn yourself.

‘It’s not my fault that you word certain phrases into making me think those types of things, and besides I’m very much aware of how…vocal you can be during our more intimate moments.’ You said with a suggestive smile, batting your eyes at him for added effect as it was you who watched as Tomas swallowed thickly and continued to watch as his eyes grew wide as your ears could pick up the distinct hitch in his breath, along with the way his hands gripped your waist tightly. It was entertaining in seeing how quickly Tomas went from cocky to flustered with a few purposely placed words strung together; When he didn’t responded after a while you reached your hands to hold his face, allowing for your thumbs to gently caresses the parts that his mask couldn’t quite cover.

‘What’s wrong Tomas, you seem a little speechless.’ You said with fake worry as you brought your face closer to his so he could see the smirk growing across your face. ‘Cat got your tongue, pretty boy?’ You added with a whisper, not bothering to hide your amusement at the sudden change of your dynamic as you the pulled yourself away from him and out of his grasp as you walked away, looking back to see him still frozen to the spot you’ve left him in, before rapidly blinking his eyes when they cast their gaze on you with a unfamiliar look, which resulted in your cheeks becoming warm once more but you managed to bypass it in order to give Tomas a warning for the future. ‘Two can play at this game my sweet and we can go at it all night if that’s what you wish.’ You finished with a wink.

[therenlover]

Always For A Second (Usually At The Start) - A Helmut Zemo x Reader fic

"And when I imagine life when it's mine / I can try to picture faceless folk to love a thousand times / But always for a second, and usually at the start / You're in the image posing with a cradled beating heart" - Katie Gregson MacLeod, i'm worried it will always be you

Synopsis: Leaving Helmut for good had been the biggest, most final choice you'd ever had to make. Two years later, he's in your living room again. This time, though, things are different.

Tags: Explicit Smut (+18), Exes, Getting Back Together, Enemies to Lovers to Exes to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, Switch!Zemo, Oral (Fem Receiving), Service Top!Zemo, Aftercare, Bucky is Mentioned Too Much

Rating: E (+18) Minors DNI

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 8,600~

-------------

“I didn’t expect you to come crawling back so soon, schatz,”

The restaurant was crowded enough that nobody heard Helmut’s words, curt and cloying and so fucking familiar. Still, my face heated. It always would for him, no matter how much my common sense protested by body’s reactions. How dare he be so damn effective at getting under my skin? 

Some over-expensive brown liquor sloshed against the rim of the glass in my hand as I lifted it less than gracefully from the table, dribbling down the edge of my mouth as I guided it to my lips and drank deeply. “For one, two years isn’t soon,” I started, swallowing. “Two, you’re the asshole who showed up in my apartment like a robber, which makes you the one who came crawling back. I was just nice enough to let you take me for a free meal to get you the hell out. Three,” I set the glass down sharply, “don’t call me that. We’re not friends. We’re not anything. I still haven’t forgiven you,” 

“Apologies,” 

He didn’t mean it. 

“Still, it’s too soon to expect any sort of kindness from you,” he continued, “If I recall correctly, you said you’d rather die than suffer through another night with me for the rest of eternity. I believe an eternity has yet to pass… and yet, here we are,”

His matter of fact tone left little up for debate, unless I wanted to reach for my fork and maim his smug face. Instead, I bit my tongue and swallowed another mouthful of whatever I was drinking.

For once I was glad to be surrounded by the kind of noisy, faceless jumble of humanity that usually made my skin crawl. F. Scott Fitzgerald was on to something with his theories on large crowds and intimacy; there was no better place for two war criminals to meet than the corner booth of a hazy restaurant, lounging and drinking, covered by the blanket of sweet anonymity. Anyone who glanced our way would see two normal human beings sharing a meal in peaceable silence, sharing sparse conversation between bites of this and that. 

They would see lovers.

The thought left a lump in my throat. 

Maybe I looked uncomfortable enough that they would presume, correctly, that we were ex-lovers. I wasn’t hopeful about it, though. 

Helmut noticed, of course, but I knew he would. He had always had an almost supernatural sense for these things, like he could tune into my emotional radio on a frequency I didn’t even fully know myself. Enemy or ally or… otherwise, it was a constant to be seen through and picked apart like carrion. An appetizer for the fights to come. Thankfully, though, he chose to have mercy on me this time in a rare show of respect. Instead of wrapping his lips around another snide comment- even though I could tell it was burning a bitter hole into the tip of his tongue behind his clenched teeth- he chose to pick up a ring of calamari from the plate between us. He held it up to examine the crust in the dim lamplight before placing it delicately against his lips, pulling it from the fork in one bite. Still, he couldn’t be too gracious. Helmut held eye contact as he went.

I could only managed a disgusted sigh but found myself mirrored as his teeth sunk into the squid and his brow furrowed. 

“Bad?” I asked.

He chewed for a good while before managing to swallow the offending clump down, gagging all the way. “Despite my recent diet, that might be the worst thing I’ve eaten in a long while,”

A laugh escaped me before I even knew it was there. “You managed to pick a restaurant where our appetizer is worse than prison food? Serves you right for ordering seafood in the midwest,” 

“I suppose it does.” He nudged the plate towards me with a growing smirk, “See for yourself. I’d hate to see it wasted, and as you said, it is ours. I can’t be expected to finish it alone,” 

As if under the spell of his charisma all over again, I followed his instructions without a second thought. It was just as bad as I anticipated. 

Things were off to a bad start from the moment the tines of my fork hit the batter. The breading seemed to squelch under the pressure, sagging and giving way into meat that was somehow both rubbery and gelatinous, if that was even possible, and if the texture seemed bad outside of my mouth it was even worse inside. Somewhere between its fishy tang and the overly salted batter, there was a bitter, almost sour note that seemed to permeate further with every chew. I spit the macerated glob into my napkin before even attempting to swallow down the remaining spit. 

Across the table, Zemo grinned at my misfortune. “Let’s hope our entrees are less offensive to our palettes,” 

“Fuck off,” I muttered, lips turning up at the edges. 

“You can curse all you want at my poor choice of venue, but I can tell you’re glad you’re the one who ordered the pasta instead of the steak,” 

I went for my glass again, letting the liquor with a name I couldn’t pronounce burn all the way down my throat and into my chest. “I hate that you’re always right, Helmut. Can’t you be wrong, just once? Leave some correctness for the rest of us,” 

Maybe it was the lighting, soft and amber against the dark wood of the table to mask the bloody steaks that would sit below, or maybe it was the music, something old and swinging that I couldn’t quite put my finger on but knew from the radio in my grandmother’s car as a child, or maybe, just maybe, it was the crows feet that popped up around Helmut’s eyes when he smiled that hadn’t been quite so prominent the last time I’d seen him, but no matter the cause, the solid iron wall I had put up around my heart when I walked out of the Baron’s life those two year sago seemed to soften. Weakened, somehow. It was like someone took a blowtorch right to the center of my defenses. Something in me screamed that they had never been all that strong to begin with. 

I only noticed I’d been staring when he looked away, clearing his throat and wiping his thin mouth with the napkin from his lap. 

There went my hand. Helmut, 1. Me, 0… Well, 1, if leaving him those years ago counted for anything, and I refused to believe that it hadn’t. That the blow to his ego hadn’t given me at least a slight upper hand compared to the naive girl I had been in comparison when I first met him. There had been so much good in the world then. 

The silence dragged on as if the structural flaws of my guarded heart could patch themselves up with the defenses created from just a few silent moments between us. That’s all it would take for me to remember all the reasons this would never work: all the pain, the sleepless nights, the snide comments that turned into biting replies that grew into massive, earth-shattering fights that exploded into days or weeks or months living alone in a house with him. One by one, the memories flooded back, reminding me exactly why it had taken me almost two years to find enough peace within myself that I wouldn’t decide to shoot the man in front of me on sight. My heart hardened by the second.

“I saw your concert,” 

I was simultaneously thawed and frozen all over again. “How did you-“ 

“James mentioned it,” 

“You still talk to Bucky?” 

“Here and there,” 

The conversation lapsed into silence. 

He had… been there? I didn’t even bother to think about the talk I’d have to have with Bucky about my privacy, too focused on the more important matter at hand. 

The venue was grungy, a basement bar with a small stage serving the communities aspiring comedians and desperate punk-rock garage dwellers just waiting for their big break. I had barely had the guts to pay the booking fee, though. It was just me, a piano, and my guitar for an hour and a half set of mostly cover songs that had gone better than I’d expected, but hadn’t been anything crazy. The crowd was appreciative and respectful. Several people had left tips, even more giving me a congratulatory clap on the back as I left the building that night, promising to “stream my EP” whenever I released it, despite the fact that I had no plans to do any such thing. Still, I couldn’t imagine that I hadn’t seen his face in the crowd. I couldn’t name what I was feeling as I imagined it; visualized his face on the other side of the smoky room, leaned against the bar with his dark eyes catching hold of mine…

“You came and you didn’t say anything? Not even a hello?” 

Helmut laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “And risk my life over a free concert? No.” He paused, “Despite my tendency to sometimes be… less than kind, I knew it would rattle you to see me. I didn’t want to throw you off before your performance.” 

I didn’t have much of anything to say in response. Instead, I picked at the paper straw wrapper in my lap and tried to look anywhere but in his direction, shoving down whatever was welling up in my chest. He wouldn’t let things go, though. He never could. That was half of why we’d never work. Every time I tried to drop an uncomfortable subject he’d be there to pick it up with a snide comment or two. It was an easy rhythm. Too easy. I had never wanted to fall back into it and yet, here I was, almost excited to snipe his next words down. 

“Cain misses you,” He continued. 

I folded the straw wrapper in my hands, pulling at the crease as I thought about the doberman puppy I had left behind. He would be so big now, as big as the one I’d taken with me was now. My heart ached at the thought. 

“I doubt he remembers me after all this time,” 

“Of course he does,” Helmut’s voice was low. It was almost hypnotic, the way he carried himself. He could fool anyone. I realized, with a sinking feeling in my stomach that couldn’t have been the calamari, he could still fool me. “He’s quite the troublemaker. More times than I can count he’s evaded me in the house, only to be found asleep in your old closet. I think he remembers your scent,” 

“Thats…” I sat quiet for a moment, pursing through choices of words in my mind, mulling over the sharp accented way he pronounced the t in scent, “Sad. Really sad. Makes me wish I could’ve taken them both,” 

“And what of Brutus?”

“He’s good,” A smile crossed my face. “Big, as you saw tonight. I remember when we got them, they told us they’d be 60 pounds at most, but I swear Brutus must’ve snuck in with the rest of those puppies, because he’s massive. Headbutts me every time I walk through the door wondering where I was. He’s a good boy, though. Keeps watch while I sleep, just in case.”

“Just in case I decided to let myself in through the window one night?”

I let myself laugh without judgement this time, reaching for my water. “Looks like it was all for nothing, then. Who knew he’d just let intruders come waltzing in off of the fire escape?” 

“Am I truly considered an intruder in your home?” He asked it as if the answer wasn’t obvious. As if there were any other answer I could possibly give. As if I could’ve wanted him there. His earnestness almost hurt as much as his taunting did, maybe more, because even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself, there was a soft ring of truth to his words. 

I took the cowards way out. “I don’t know, what do you think?” 

It was a vulnerability to not give a straight answer, the kind of weak spot that Helmut would catch wind of in an instant before using it to unravel someone piece by piece. Not a no, but certainly not a yes, and the fact that it hadn’t been a resounding yes was enough to glean that maybe, deep down, I wasn’t hating this dinner. He would see through me. Rip me to shreds for the subtle admittance that I hadn’t hated seeing him waiting for me on the couch when I walked through my door, even if I hadn’t expected or wanted him there in the first place. 

I found it was better to lie by omission than to fully lie and let him see through me to the more important truth; For as much as I despised everything about him, I had missed Helmut Zemo. I had missed his stupid expensive taste and the tilt of his stupid head and his stupid shiny white smile. I had missed seeing his coat hung up beside the door and knowing what waited for me inside. It was sick how I had loved him. How I had loved every minute of him picking me apart by the seams and putting me back together. Who could possibly crave their own destruction? Who could live knowing that to be loved was to be deconstructed down to the bone and laid bare as something lesser, something so small compared to the great destroyer I devoted myself to. 

How could he let me live like that if he truly saw through me? 

And that was why I had to leave. 

Loving Helmut Zemo was no way to live. I knew that. I had known that the day I picked up my dog and walked out of our home with nothing but my wallet, car keys, phone, and a polaroid picture of his silhouette. Somehow, I knew that he knew that too. Why else would I move on so suddenly, so sharply, removing every piece of the life we’d built to start myself fresh? A new me, I had said. A new chapter. Yet here I was across from him, shredded bits of paper littering my lap as he puppeteered my heart right back into his arms. 

No. I couldn’t let it happen. 

Not again. 

“Listen, baron,” I didn’t let him answer my rhetorical question. It wouldn’t be wise to let him gain the upper hand again. It wouldn’t be smart to let myself stay weak. “I appreciate dinner. It’s been surprisingly lovely to catch up with you. I’m glad to know you’re not dead, and its great to know Cain is doing well, but I know you weren’t here to tell me that over a plate of mediocre pasta,” 

Helmut smiled, his head in its signature tilt, and swished his own glass a bit. The ice was all but melted giving the liquor an almost clear quality as it diluted. Not a sip had been taken. “Ask the question, schatz,” 

“Why are you here? Why did you stalk me here and break into my apartment when I made it clear that you weren’t welcome in my life?” My words came out so matter of fact even I almost recoiled at them. Not unemotional but detached. 

“Um, who had the chicken alfredo?”

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I looked up at the poor waiter, hot plates in hand, as he took in our table at just the wrong time. Five minutes earlier he would have walked in on polite conversation about the dogs or the shitty appetizers. Now, though, he stood between a man who was known to kill for the things he wanted and me, the one thing he could never have again. 

Surprisingly, though, Helmut waved a hand towards me as I froze. There were none of the usual dramatics, just polite chatter with the waiter as he set my plate in front of me and left Helmut with his, taking the offending calamari plate away with him as he scurried away, surely to tell his coworkers about the crazy exes at the corner table. Helmut didn't even carry on with his answer. He just started tucking in to his steak and potatoes, not sparing me a single glance. If I didn’t know better, if I hadn’t memorized the way his eyes looked in the low light of a restaurant across from me, I would think he’d been replaced by a skrull.

Where was the tearing? The shredding? The utter evisceration of my waiting throat as he drank deeply of my darkest, most shameful thoughts only to spit them out for the world to see. Where was that shame? In the before times, in the times that the two of us had been a we, he never would have paused to mind a waiter. The world would have revolved around him as he laid me bare, no matter who watched or waited in the wings. What changed? 

How had I not noticed his docility until now?

The pasta was decent. It was better than anything I would’ve made at home, at least. I barely thought about it, though, letting my body go through the motions of eating mechanically while my mind went over a million things I could say. What could I say? There was nothing left to. We had gone over every possibility before I had left, at least I thought we had. Whatever we were was dead. That was certain. But what we could be…

I swallowed hard before I could choke on a relatively large piece of broccoli I neglected to chew in my trance. 

Helmut seemed to be in a painfully similar situation. One look at his plate showed a steak cut into tiny pieces. Almost none of it looked eaten, just diced into a pile and shuffled around a bit on the plate to mix with the potatoes, smashed down from their neat ice cream scoop globe and spread with the back of a fork. 

With a sigh, I set down my fork, pasta already forgotten. 

“Lost your appetite?” 

He paused his fiddling with his fork and knife, mirroring me and letting the utensils rest on the table beside his plate. It was odd to see him rattled. Strange to watch his eyes roll up to the ceiling and pause there, as if he was searching for the right words to say. He always knew just what to say to cut the deepest. Maybe it was foreign for him to not want to cut; To find a soft word, instead of a sharpened one. His mouth opened one… two…three times. Open and shut, open and shut. I couldn’t help but hurt for him. The man of many words was finally struck dumb. 

Finally, it came. 

“I’m sorry,” 

I had anticipated a selfish reply, a demand for me to come back and put the past two years behind us, but time had changed him. It had changed us both. He was no longer the man he had been when he was first freed from behind bars, vengeful and biting and so deeply afraid of being alone again, but I was no longer the lost girl I had been either. I did not need to be destroyed to breathe. I could feel tears pricking up in my eyes as he reached a hand across the table to search for my own. It was such a familiar sight in a time of uncertainty. I kept my hands firmly in my lap, though. I would not give him the satisfaction. 

More, I would not give him hope.

“Come home, schatz,”  

There it was. 

I couldn’t hold in the bitter, wet laugh that bubbled up through me, more at my own foolishness than at anything else. He had changed, yes, but some things never would. 

“Helmut,” The word hurt to say. It was altogether both familiar and unfamiliar, covered in a thick layer of dust from time, but nothing could erase the fact that it had once been used over and over, like a prayer, as easy as breathing or saying my own name. “You know I can’t,” 

He let his hand slink back to his side. “I had to try, you know,”

“I know,” The words were a whisper. 

So this was closure? 

The table was quiet. There was no desperation from Helmut’s side, no attempts to sway me or sudden outbursts of resentment. It was almost peaceful. His voice was sad but there was no manipulation in it. We laid our cards of the table as the game we’d played for years finally came to an end. 

“You were right about us, when you left,” he laughed, “I was, as you so aptly put it, a massive ass. I was still so deeply disillusioned about this world and the horrors of it. It was as if everyone around me was just another cog in it all, even you. I thought if I could puppet it all, make things go my way, everything could just be quiet. The horrors would finally stop. The memories would finally stop. I took it too far, though. I took it out on you. For that, I will never be sorry enough,” 

I put up a hand. “Helmut, you don’t have to do this-“

“I want to,”

His voice was delicate but didn’t waver. For the first time I wondered if this was more about what he needed to say than about what I needed to hear. I nodded him on. Without me even thinking about what I was doing, my hand caught his across the table.

“I wanted to run after you the same day you left. I nearly did, too, before I thought better of it. Then I really thought of what you said. What I did. It was then that I decided I had to change for the better, not for you but for myself. Only then would I allow myself to try again. So I did. I spent my time deconstructing the things I had seen and done and finally facing my own demons. I’m not perfect- believe me -but there are many things I have… worked on, for lack of a better word. James was surprisingly helpful throughout it all,” 

“Is that why you’ve been talking?” My thumb stroked over his knuckles, pausing on a scar. 

“More or less. I needed advice on how to overcome my atrocities, and I owed him an apology either way. He told me about your concert because he thought I would be ready to make amends, and yet I found myself unable to speak to you because I knew that if I did, I would have to beg you for forgiveness, and that is not something I will allow myself to do from anyone. Not now, nor ever,”

I let myself pull away. This was not a movie. There was no happy ending for the two of us at the end of this conversation. It was a chance to clear the air and let go of our grievances before going our separate ways. Treating it any other way would only hurt us both. “Why break in, then, and drag this all out over dinner? Why not just knock on my door, apologize, and leave?”

“I couldn’t have you slamming the door in my face and leaving me to apologize to the wall, now could I?” 

We shared a sad smile, a knowing one. “I guess that’s true.” 

“I needed to know you would hear what I had to say until the end,” he paused, “And one last confession. I must admit, I could not walk away without sharing dinner with you one last time. It’s selfish, as I am selfish, but I could not see you again without truly seeing you, more than just as you shouted at me and threw me to the curb,” 

“You think so little of me?” I asked. There was no bite in it. 

“No, I think so little of myself,” he finally took a sip from his glass, “Any anger on your part is warranted,” 

We did not speak again for a long while. Helmut methodically went through the bite-sized pieces of steak on his plate as I finished the alfredo, which had grown cold in the time it took to sort things out. There was no quiet conversation, no jokes or shared stories in the glow of the lamps overhead. Instead we sat in peaceable silence and breathed in the finality of it all. I was almost grateful for it. I never would have imagined sharing a meal like this with him in all of the years I had known him and loved him. If it was to be the last, and it was, we would savor every moment of each others company. Every moment not spent on my meal was devoted to memorizing the line of his jaw and the shape of his eyes as he did the same for me. 

By the time the waiter came to ask about dessert, I could have written sonnets about his face alone, and by the time he returned with the check, paid discreetly with a 40% tip for his troubles on Helmut’s card, I had committed the sound of his breathing to my mind. I could only hope the memory would last this time.

Realistically, I knew it wouldn’t. 

I wondered if he was thinking the same thing as we approached the front of the restaurant together, pausing awkwardly outside the door as we exited out onto the street. 

“So, this is it,” My hands found the pockets of my coat as I rocked onto the balls of my feet. 

Helmut smiled softly in the lamplight. “Let me walk you home,” 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” 

“Says who? I have to follow you either way, my car is parked down the block,” He offered me his arm. 

I took it far quicker than I should have, relishing in the scent of his cologne. Even after all these years he had never switched to another brand, and I refused to admit to anyone else but myself that I was grateful for it. Instead I leaned into his warmth. “Well, it’s only a few blocks anyways. I guess it couldn’t hurt,” and with that, we were off. 

The night was cool. Summer had given in to the pull of a lush fall, the temperatures dropping to a comfortable but windy chill when the sun fell below the horizon. The leaves were not yet falling but they’d begun their slow transformation from green into a mosaic of reds and yellows and greens, forming a rustling canopy above the sidewalk that allowed a flash of stars and moon through the foliage every few steps. 

We were not the only pair walking through the streets that night, but if you had asked me about it later I would have said we were the only two people in the whole city, matching each other step for step under the flickering streetlights. Helmut’s crows feet were in full force as he laughed at my terrible jokes, and I couldn’t help but feel warmth rush through my neck and cheeks as he recounted the moment we first met. 

It had been fall then, too. A brief, chance encounter in the streets of Paris was all it was, a night spend with a stranger, until I had seen him again in Sibera, and again in Germany, and again on the Raft, and again, and again, and again, and again…

He had been younger then, much younger, and still raw with grief, but I had loved him even then.

I was so lost in my own memories that I almost missed the stairs up to my apartment, but Helmut paused there, keeping me rooted with him even though the look in his eyes told me he almost kept walking past, hoping to gain one more turn around the block before he had to let me go. He didn't, though. This was the end of the line. 

My arm slipped easily from its place against his own, hand catching briefly on the crook of his elbow. “Walk me to my door?”

His laugh felt almost nervous, a paid mockery of my own earlier reticence. “I don’t think that’s wise,” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a gentleman, baron?” 

“I have never claimed that,” For a moment, when he paused, I thought that would be that. I would turn my back, ascend the stairs, and turn around to find he’d shifted back into the shadows from whence he came, but then the moonlight caught on his soft, wet eyes. “But for you, schatz, I try to be,” 

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find the words I wanted to say as we walked up the front steps and into the building. 

It had been so angry last time. I had vomited up every hateful, raging, repressed thought that I had shoved down into my chest over the course of our turbulent time together all at once and left without a second glance. This time, though, it felt wrong to end things without giving him credit for all of the other things, the things I had forgotten in the midst of all the chaos that surrounded us. How could I thank him? How could I tell him every wonderful thing about himself only to close the door in his face a moment later? I spent the whole trip up to my apartment trying to find a way to express even an ounce of what I felt, and then it was far too late. 

We stood there on my novelty doormat, boots settled over the dirty cartoon chickens, hands in our pockets, and breathed in the stale hallway air. 

“Thank you for dinner,” I said. If I shut off my heart and my mind and every other little betraying ache in my bones it was like it had been all those years ago. We were just meeting. This was the end of our very first date. There was a future instead of a past in the time that lay beyond us. 

Helmut averted his eyes from mine. I could tell he was pretending too. “Of course,” 

“I’ll see you again,” I lied, “I mean, it’s inevitable. We’ll end up at Bucky’s place at the same time,” 

“Or run into each other at a busy cafe,” he offered. 

“Exactly! Or our cells will end up next to each other in maximum security prison,” I laughed, but it caught, pathetic, in the back of my throat.  

He took a step back, boots leaving my doorstep. “I look forward to it, whenever it may be,” 

My shaking hands found my keys, an autopilot motion I had done a million times, and the door to my apartment swung open. I could hear Brutus in his kennel, beginning to whine the moment he heard me come home, but I paused there for a moment, one foot in and one foot out. 

“Goodbye, Helmut,” 

“Sleep well, schatz,” 

I stepped inside and locked the door without turning around for a last look. 

My tears came quicker than expected as I took in the room around me. It was the antithesis of my home with Helmut, all whites and beiges and grays from the sparse walls to the lonely couch against the wall. There was one great shock of black, though; a solid footprint on the windowsill. One last souvenir to remember him by. 

I had done the right thing. 

I had to have done the right thing. 

Life with Helmut was hell. It was exciting and lush and romantic and alluring but it was destructive and painful too. It would mean being seen and unseen for the rest of my life, living with the ghosts of those lost in Novi Grad. He would never stop being the man his grief had created. He was just too broken… wasn’t he? 

All at once I knew I had to see him again. This wasn’t going to be the end. There were still so many chances to make it right. 

Before I knew my own feelings, I was undoing the latch and throwing my door open, only to find him there, feet planted solidly on that stupid welcome mat and fist raised to lift the knocker. Our eyes locked. 

We didn’t need words then. 

No, all I needed was his lips on mine and my hands in his hair. It was a need easily rectified. 

He didn’t pull away as I grabbed the edges of his ridiculous fur coat and dragged him in for a kiss, letting the remains of that day’s lipstick smear against his chapped lips as the parted and made way for me. It was like a piece of my puzzle fell back into place, like the thing that had been lying dormant in my empty chest for the past two years had jumped to life and jumped into my throat. The tears weren’t coming anymore, though Helmut’s cheeks felt wet when I guided one of my hands to rest against it, dragging him closer. I needed him urgently. I needed all of it. Every moment I had missed. 

At least one time in my entire tiny, useless life I needed to know him as he had always known me. I had to see him through eyes that would know every atom of him by heart. 

It could have lasted second or hours. I was lost in it; lost in every heartbeat and the messy clack of teeth on teeth as we remembered exactly how our mouths locked into each other. There was no need to breathe. I would happily drown in him if he would let me. Through the passion I distinctly remembered this fervor, the endless need for him. It wasn’t frightening anymore, though. I knew how to walk away. We both did. 

This time I didn’t want to. 

Helmut was the first to pull away. His mouth was wet and red as he panted there, just a breath away from diving in for more, but he pulled away when I advanced again, instead choosing to speak between placing kisses on my cheeks and down my jaw. “I couldn’t let you walk away from me. Not again,” his voice shook as he kissed me, “Does that make me a bad man? Does that mean you can’t love me?” 

I could only breathe a laugh as I pressed my chest to him. No measure of closeness was enough. I needed him to cover every inch of me. “I don’t think I could stop loving you if I tried, and I’ve tried,” 

“Please, stop trying,”

With that, he caught me in another kiss. 

“We should probably go inside,” I panted, gesturing towards the apartment with my head and Helmut nodded, maneuvering us over the threshold and into the barren entryway of the home  I’d made without him. It didn’t matter, though. That wasn’t what I was focused on. Instead, my hands were more focused on pulling his coat from his shoulders and discarding it loosely in the direction of the coat rack between fevered kisses. 

The old Helmut would’ve pulled away and make some snarky remark about keeping the place clean. This Helmut, though- my Helmut, as I had selfishly started to refer to him mentally in the past few moments -just dragged me in closer after his arms were freed, letting his hand drift to the small of my back but not even an inch lower.

Suddenly, though, things seemed to cool. The kisses grew shorter, softer. His arms still held me but seemed to loosen their grip. 

“Tell me you want this,” He whispered softly against the shell of my ear, “That you want me,” 

Ah. So that’s what this is. 

“Helmut, of course I do-“ 

“That’s not enough,” his voice was laced with a rare seriousness as he pulled away to look at me properly. His brown eyes glowed a million honeyed colors under the shitty, flickering overhead lighting I should have replaced months ago. They flitted from my swollen mouth to my cheeks to my watery eyes as his hand came up to cup my cheeks again. “Tell me this isn’t a mistake or a bad decision you’ll regret the second we finish,” 

The rest went unsaid. 

(Tell me you’ll stay. Tell me this means something to you, even if it doesn’t mean as much as it does to me. Tell me I won’t wake up alone tomorrow morning. Tell me anything and everything except the cruel reality that neither of us really knows what the future looks like once this is over)

I simply nodded my head, coming in for one closed mouth kiss. “I want this. I want you. Whatever I choose to do next, you’ll be a part of the decision. No more running away,” 

Like a shot, we were off to the races again. 

It was hard to detach our bodies long enough to give Brutus a treat to quiet him down, harder still to lead him to the bedroom and drop his hand long enough to turn on a nearby lamp, but somehow I managed. For all of the small things I’d forgotten about Helmut in the two years we’d spent apart, his bitten nails and the silhouette of his nose and the sound of his labored breathing as he took in my body with something akin to animalistic hunger, it was easy to fall back into the rhythm we’d always found ourselves in intimately. 

His shirt came off first, exposing the soft curve of his stomach. I kissed down from his neck to his chest, letting myself pause on each and every pinkish scar that graced his flesh. I made a mental note to ask him about a few new ones, including a wicked one across his collarbone that still puckered into an inch long divot in his flesh. My fingers followed my mouth, mapping every inch of his flesh. They caught on every soft yielding place he offered, a worship on the altar of his body, dragging his flesh ever so slightly but never enough to leave a scratch or bruise. 

I would not mark him any more than the world already had. It was not my purpose to remold him into my image. Instead I would venerate what he was, what he had become. 

Helmut had put so much effort into changing himself, rebreaking the things that had never healed correctly and setting them right again. I refused to let him break down to splinters again. Not on my watch. 

He shuddered at my attentions. 

“Let me see you?” It was a question, not a demand, and how could I deny him when he asked so nicely? 

I stood up again, relishing in the feeling of his fingers against the hem of my t-shirt, the gentle scratch of nails on skin as he lifted it over my head. When he looked at me, it was like he was looking at the most precious thing in the world. Usually he was so hungry for it that there was never a pause once my shirt was discarded. My bra would be thrown off with it, then my pants, then my underwear, all in such quick succession that I barely distinguished one article from the next in the order of things. This time, though, he paused, hands just inches from my bare flesh. 

“My sweet girl,” he whispered to me like a prayer, a confession, “I don’t think I can hold back much longer,” 

Slowly, deliberately, I stepped forward and pressed my body into his awaiting hands. He squeezed my hips once, gentle, and twice. Then they were roaming up to the clasp on my bra with that usual hunger again, freeing my breasts for his attentions. I don’t exactly recall how he manhandled me on to the bed, I was too busy feeling the hard press of his bulge through his crisp dress slacks. The first thing I was fully cognizant of was his hot breath on my sternum as he hovered over me, still standing but bent at the waist, boxing me in with his knees. 

“So fucking sweet,” he whispered before taking one of my nipples between his lips and laving his tongue over the hardening tip. 

I felt like a live wire. Heat was building everywhere. Dazzling electricity shot through my head and fingers and toes and cunt and gods especially my breasts. They were always my weak spot, and how he knew it, how he knew me. I wanted to thrash against him, to buck and gain his attention where I really needed it, but his body above mine held me fast, keeping me right where he wanted me, vulnerable to him and his specific brand of torture. With a particularly sharp pinch and a well timed suck he had me keening against him, curling into his every move. 

How had I lived without him? It was hard to imagine a night not spend here with Helmut, wherever here was, not that that mattered. I was embarrassingly wet. The slickness had gathered enough that I could feel it on my thighs despite my jeans. When I tried to relieve myself, though, the baron caught my hand, tutting softly. 

I expected to have to ask permission. Soft begs escaped my mouth. I needed him. I had no patience for games. Instead, though, he lifted up off of my chest and smiled, pulling my hand to his lips. “Let me help you, love,” 

There are no words in the human language that could adequately represent the sound that escaped my mouth. I could not even begin to try. It continued even as I lifted my hips to shimmy free from my jeans and underwear in one fluid motion, only ceasing when Helmut was on his knees with his face buried in my cunt. I was making different noises then. Loud. Guttural. If I had any mind left at all I would worry what my neighbors thought, to see me out on my doorstep desperately pawing at a man only to hear the noises we were making in tandem now. Thankfully, any sensible thought I had left seemed to fly out the window with Helmut’s first lick to my cunt. 

It was clear that he hadn’t forgotten me, and if he had, the muscle memory was coming back quick. His tongue was deft as it worked its way over my aching nub in a pseudo-figure eight; circling once, twice, and three times before dipping back through my folds. I held him in place this time, though, rocking into his mouth. At some point my hands found their way into his hair. It was so soft between my fingers, so pliable as I pulled against him, desperate for more of him, anything he would good. 

Every time he relented to me. Each sharp jolt was rewarded with a kiss against my thigh or a muttered curse in Sokovian, hot breath teasing my glistening mound. 

He was so giving, so attentive to my every need. He had always been a generous lover, never leaving me wanting for anything, but this felt… different. The way he sucked bruises into my thighs, relenting to each and every sobbing please that escaped my soft lips, was a new and devastating experience. There were no power games left to play, no lording his sexual prowess over me as he brought me slowly closer and closer to the ever distant goalpost, just his mouth on me over and over and over again as he wrung the first orgasm of the night out of me, then the second in short measure, barely ceasing from one to the next.

By the time he decided I’d had my fill, my legs were a trembling mess against his shoulders and my cunt was a sopping mess. 

He grinned a crooked grin at his masterpiece.

“How was that, my love,” 

I could barely catch my breath enough to speak. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, thrumming a frantic drumbeat even as the room quieted. “So good- really really good, Helmut,” 

Slowly, he rose up from his knees, undoing his belt. “Please say my name again, schatz,” 

“Helmut,” My voice was hushed. Reverent. 

He undid the button at his fly, pulling at the band of his boxers. “Again,” 

It fell from my lips like a prayer. “Helmut,”

His cock bounced free, bobbing as he took a sharp, steadying breath. He placed his hand at the base and squeezed slightly. 

“Again,” 

“Helmut,” 

“Fuck, that’s good,” The trance broke momentarily as I gazed up at him, watching the sweat roll down his forehead in shining rivulets despite the chill in the air. He wiped at them with the back of his free hand and smiled sheepishly. “Scoot back and get comfortable, please. I don’t think I’ll last long,” 

I did as he asked, settling against my pillows on the still-made sheets. “Neither will I,” 

“Where are your condoms?” 

“Bedside drawer, way in the back. I’m on the pill too, so no worries,” 

He moved quickly, grabbing a foil package from the small pile I’d accrued, just in case. 

It felt odd to have him be the one using them. 

There had been a few other men who had been invited here, fewer still that made it to the point that Helmut and I were at now. Every time, though, I hadn’t been able to go through with it, because every time they had finally settled themselves above me, I would close my eyes and, just for a moment, see Helmut in their place. It was unsettling the first time, enough so that I sent the guy home right away. The next time, though, it was more thought provoking than anything. I chalked it up to him being my longest lasting sexual partner and left it at that, but now, watching him roll the condom onto his length and crawl into his position over me, I knew. 

I would never get over him, even if I tried for years. My heart had a space carved out in the shape of his own. No matter how long I stayed away, I would never find something quite like what we had. He was it. This was what people dreamed about. And to think, I had almost let it slip away…

He slid one hand into mine, lacing our fingers together in the gentle lamplight. “Are you ready for me?” 

“More than ready,” My thighs spread as I canted my hips up.

Physically and mentally and every other possible way I needed him. I was prepared. 

So Helmut pumped himself once with his free hand before guiding himself into my wet heat. 

It was impossible to last long once we were finally complete. 

Feeling him inside me was like knowing the truth of the universe. It was comfortable, and thrilling, and so deliciously enough. He filled me well, finding his rhythm as he swore and released my hand to prop himself up more comfortably. We were linked together like the final pieces of a puzzle. I closed my eyes at let myself relish in it. 

There was nothing left to worry over while Helmut was inside of me. All thoughts that weren’t of him were banished. It was something to be cherished, every thrust paired with a whispered confession of love from one of us, a fleeting kiss, a curse, a plea… We laid ourselves bare. I let my legs wrap around his warm, soft hips as he rutted into me, bringing a hand between us to circle my clit once more. Even after everything he refused to leave me behind while he chased his own pleasure. It didn’t take much to send me tumbling over the edge into oblivion. 

As always, Helmut followed me down. 

His thrusts quickened, then stilled as he came to rest upon me, panting and heaving and begging for breath. I didn’t care much. He smelled of cologne and sweat as I buried my face in his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could feel him soften inside of me but I was far too spent to urge him to move.

We only shifted apart when he slipped free of me.

Helmut quickly kissed my forehead and gathered himself up, shuffling to the trash can to discard the used condom and grab a tissue to wipe himself up. I didn’t let myself move an inch. If I moved, would the bliss run away? Would I realize what I’d done? I let myself lay instead, eyes closed, panting in the autumn chill as my lover approached and wiped up our beautiful mess as gently as he could manage. With one last kiss to my thigh, he discarded the rag, opened the window, and crawled back into bed with me. 

The process was indelicate, a lot of awkward shuffling of sticky limbs, but we were settled beneath the blankets soon enough. Helmut stroked his fingers down my arm languidly while kissing the back of my neck. 

I broke the peace between us. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what this means for us,” 

He sighed gently. His breath was soothing and familiar against my shoulder. “That’s not something we have to decide at this very moment,” 

“But I just don’t want you to think this means something… or at least something more than it does? If that makes sense? I don’t know,”

“Schatz, please,” 

“I want to keep my own place, at least for now. I don’t know what that means for when I’ll see you or if we’ll keep doing this,” I gestured vaguely to my nude body beneath the sheets, “or if we’re even a thing anymore, bu-“ 

Helmut reached his arm around us, placing a quieting finger over my lips and another soft kiss against my shoulder. 

“I swear, your mind sounds even louder than mine,” 

“Sorry,” 

“No reason to be,” His hand left my lips, running down to my stomach and pulling me back towards the softness of his chest. “As for your questions, I shall respect your wishes about distance and housing and labels, whatever they may be. That being said, as long as you’re still up for… this, as you put it, I will never deny you, no matter the distance. I would cross oceans for you,” 

A cum-drunk, half-asleep giggle escaped me as he nuzzled in, kissing my ear. 

“Thank you,” 

“No, thank you,” he matched my laughter with his own, “I believe this is what James would call post nut clarity,” 

“Now you ruined it!” I huffed. The faux anger only lasted a moment, though, before I was rolling to face him, cheek pressed to the soft, downy hair of his chest. “I love you, Helmut.” 

“I love you too, sweet girl. Now sleep. I’ll get up and deal with the dog once you’re resting,” 

For the first time in two years, I breathed in the scent of Helmut’s cologne before lapsing into a peaceful sleep.

---------

A/N: Thank you for reading! This is my first foray into smut in literal years, and it was literally all written within a 12 hour period, so I hope any mistakes weren't enough to take away from your enjoyment. Comments are always appreciated, but never expected. See you on the next authors note!

[gatitties]

Hi can you do yandere bonten (separately where their s/o (who knows they’re a yandere and gose a long with.) is being targeted by another gang. ( Trying to kill them and shit) and on day they see a red dot on their s/o forehead. (Coming from a laser on a gun) and then there’s gunshots everywhere. Do they manage to tackle their s/o on those and save them? ( you can pick) and what do they do to rival gang when they find them?

─Yandere!Bonten x reader (separately)

─Summary: a moment in which your life is threatened, a moment of despair for these boys

─Warnings: death, blood, mention of drugs, toxic behaivors, yandere stuff

─ It was very strange to go from not being noticed socially to having a psychopath holding your waist every second of your existence.

─ You knew that his behaviors went beyond a toxic and controlling partner, perhaps because you were aware that you knew how to cope with it in a certain way, in any case accepting his madness made many things easier, it was better to be on Mikey's good side.

─ That you were docile could only improve Mikey's condition, although sometimes it was like dealing with a capricious child, you had to at least pretend not to be uncomfortable twenty-four hours a day stuck to him in any way.

─ Although there are situations in which due to certain circumstances he needs to move away from you, it will bother him even if it is a few seconds in which he has to greet someone important, but he will always have a part of his body attached to you, whether it's his hand on your shoulder or his knee touching yours, he needs to make sure that you won't vanish out of nowhere even though it's physically impossible.

─ In the event that your life was threatened for just a measly second, it was like starting a war.

─ You didn't even know what happened before his body locked you against the floor and dragged you under one of the tables.

─ You were at a dinner with some executives and out of nowhere you found yourself being suffocated by Mikey on the floor listening to a lot of guns and screams.

─ He knew that he had enemies around every corner, but he didn't know that they were stupid enough to point a gun directly at you, at his most precious being.

─ You were lucky that he was able to react in time due to his constant fixation on always having you by his side, if it weren't for his mania perhaps your destiny would have been different.

─ Although unfortunately this event reduced your time outdoors, at least until Mikey wiped out each and every one of those involved in your near-death.

─ It wasn't a good start because it started with your kidnapping.

─ But perhaps the effect of narcotics on your body was what made you stop fighting against someone who had more power than you in society, you were condemned and you accepted it.

─ Sanzu doesn't care enough not to traumatize you and you have to get used to the fact that every time he takes you somewhere someone ends up dead because of him.

─ He doesn't require so much continuous physical contact, however whenever he wants it you will have to be on his lap without any complaints, you learned the hard way that it was better to listen the first time he wants something.

─ You're his little toy and everyone knows it, maybe, too many people know who you 'belong' to and that caught the attention of a certain gang that Sanzu had previously had problems with.

─ That's why the moment when you find yourself in a brothel having a drink with Sanzu and the Haitani brothers and a red dot forms on your forehead is not surprising to him.

─ It was the lack of reaction, the mental block and the speed with which the murder happened, it was a clean shot, your blood splashed on his stupefied face and he couldn't even catch your body before you collapsed against the elegant sofa.

─ It broke him, not the fact of your death, but the fact that another person had played with the life of his obsession, his new toy, and maybe he didn't accept so easily that you were dead, maybe he kept your inert body in his bed, your pajamas on as if it were just another ordinary night.

─ To say he was a disaster (even more) was an understatement, he was going to find those bastards and going to torture them while 'you' watched, hoping that it would entertain you, at least this time you would look and not look away like all those other times.

─ He's probably one of the most normal, if it's normal to be harassed for months and have 'unintentional' encounters with Kakucho all the time.

─ Kakucho was more of an observer and stayed in the background, he knew that his obsession was not a good thing, but at least he accepted that he was aware of it and that you would have to accept him.

─ No matter how much you ran away, what you did, you always had his eyes on your figure, you were a kind of divinity for him and he didn't even want to do anything perverse, he wanted to love you. Was he asking for much? Well, he could always resort to other methods anyway, if he wanted something, he had the power to get it.

─ He didn't ask for much, he just wanted you, and he became so sincere as to confess to you everything he had been doing, everything he would do if you agreed to be with him by hook and by crook.

─ He's not very good with romantic relationships if his last option is a threat, but you decided to take the easy way out and accept all his madness towards you.

─ He was too paranoid to let you go out on your own, to do anything without his supervision, he had lost Izana a long time ago and it was too painful and traumatic for him to happen to you.

─ It's quite rare that your life is threatened because you practically don't leave your safe place, but like any good gentleman, he always has some romantic plan for two and that means going out from time to time.

─ Don't worry, the second that red dot is on your forehead you were probably protected by a mass of muscles from several bodyguards and immediately guided out along with Kakucho.

─ He will not personally be in charge of finding and killing the gang that was behind the attempt on your life, but he will know when they are all three meters underground, which will be sooner rather than later.

─ Oh poor thing, did you really think you could escape his clutches once he met you and became infatuated with you? That's sweet of you, but Takeomi already has you under the palm of his hand without you knowing it.

─ You noticed each of his manipulation tricks and his strange fixation on you, he laughed knowing how perceptive you were and admitted to you that he had not been able to get you out of his mind since the first time he saw you and that it would be better if you accompanied him for the good ones.

─ He was good enough that you could face him and move forward despite all his toxic behaviors, and even though you missed your old life and freedom, you bitterly accepted that it wasn't that easy to get rid of a mafia executive.

─ He showered you with luxuries and praise whenever you behaved as he wanted, and he tried to make everything as least uncomfortable as possible since he was hungry for love, but he knew that forcing some things on you would make him feel as if everything was a lie (despite that it was in a certain way, he wouldn't admit it).

─ He thought that no one would be stupid enough to even think about hurting you, you were always well protected and a few threats would be enough to stop anyone from wanting to look at you.

─ Poor little gang that tried to annoy him by threatening you at gunpoint, Takeomi is not stupid and expected your life to be threatened sooner or later, he is not a saint and has enemies left and right, this devil knows more because he is old than by devil

─ The whole band died that night while he was enjoying his dinner with you without any altercation, you didn't even know and you didn't need to know, he wanted to continue in his bubble of happiness and a trauma to you would break that illusion, you were behaving so well, you didn't need to feel fear, at least not fear from other people.

─ You were smart and applied, probably what caught Kokonoi's attention, it started as a small crush that got worse when he saw how your attention was not only for him.

─ You were smart, but not smart enough to notice how he drugged you to kidnap you that night he invited you to dinner. If you didn't notice his obsessive behavior before, now you did.

─ The amount of luxuries and whims increased, you didn't even need to behave well, he would have you with money as he had always done with everything, and you had no choice but to accept that a crazy rich man had kidnapped you and that he wouldn't let you go unless you were his partner or something like that.

─ Sick, yes, but you didn't want to know what would happen if you refused, or maybe it was Stockholm syndrome, at this point you no longer knew how to differentiate it.

─ Kokonoi is not always with you, which gives you a false sense of freedom, false because you always have a bodyguard watching from afar, and although you don't know it, there are more eyes watching you.

─ Kokonoi is not stupid either, he knows that they will use you to get to him, but he anticipated the facts, he managed to bribe the murderer of the gang who had problems with him to make sure that you would be fine, he would break if he lost another important person.

─ Astute enough to foresee a possible murder but not enough to foresee a betrayal, his whole world collapsed when one night he found out that you had been murdered, that was not supposed to happen, he should have been there.

─ He faced your death with vengeance, despite not being the most bloodthirsty in Bonten, the only thing he wanted to do was torture the gang that had dared to take your life, that scum that decided to betray him, he would not be the one to apply violence, but he would enjoy the cries of those bastards.

─ You were a whim of the younger brother of the Haitani, a whim that he couldn't get out of his head.

─ It started out as a normal relationship, but his delusional obsession with you and his changes in behavior made you think that everything was much more complicated than a mere relationship.

─ Rindou watched every step you took, he started getting rid of 'unnecessary' people in your life and you couldn't do anything about that, you accepted it too easily, so much so that you even thought you weren't completely sane.

─ You didn't need anyone else, he is always there, literally always because he loves to be by your side, he loves to squeeze your waist and bring you closer to him while others see him, he loves to kiss you in front of everyone to make it clear that he is the one who has you and no one else.

─ He can be suffocating at times, but it's not like you can do anything, if necessary he will chain you to him to stay together until death.

─ Speaking of death… the threats don't take long to arrive, knowing that they could use you against him, he will not leave you alone even to go to the bathroom, anything can be a threat, even an innocent child could be a spy looking to kill you.

─ Locking you up and depriving you of going outside doesn't make it any less likely that you'll end up dead, even though he didn't leave you for even a second, he wasn't fast enough to throw you to the ground when the red dot on your temple became visible.

─ He saw how your gaze was lost until it was lifeless and he saw red, all the people who were close to the scene died in painful ways in the following week, whether they were innocent or those involved, Rindou needed someone to pay for his loss, maybe he wasn't cautious enough.

─ You fell for his sweet charms, charms that had a lot of corpses, blood and torture behind them, but it was all for you, why would you get angry? He thought he wasn't doing anything wrong and would make you think so too, Ran is very patient.

─ Whatever it was, you accepted all of his macabre behavior, the murders, the jealousy, the obsession, you had to put up with everything.

─ But it's okay, Ran will be generous, he will offer you a lot for little, he just wants you to pay attention to him, he needs to know that you will be there for him no matter what he does.

─ He doesn't always have time for you unfortunately, but he will always have an eye on you, he needs to make sure that no one, not even you, does anything stupid when he's not there.

─ He treats you as if you couldn't do anything on your own, as if you were weaker than him, he likes you to be like the typical character in trouble, it makes him look cooler, doesn't it?

─ He probably received some threat, he could only laugh at the band that thought could touch a single lock of your hair.

─ The problem is that your restrictions increased and your 'free' time decreased, typical, but in this case Ran will be much more paranoid, don't think about spending a single moment alone from now on until he investigates and kills all those cockroaches who dared to threaten your life.

─ The moment he sees that the shooting starts in one of his brothels when he is spending time with you he gets furious, he will get you to safety immediately, he locks you up and even gives you a gun in case some smartass find you.

─ He will personally take charge, with some help from his brother, of killing the gang that had started the destruction in his business right there and will return to you to calm you down with a session of kisses and hugs if you get scared.

─ Poor Mochizuki was never good at romance, he didn't have many partners and his position in one of the biggest mafias in Tokyo was not a positive incentive to find someone who loved him.

─ So he thought that his obsession was justified when you showed some interest in him, of course that was before you knew who he really was, but it was too late, he got his hopes up and he wouldn't let anyone break them, not even yourself.

─ If he needed to have you drugged for you to accept him, he would do it, but no one would take away what he had longed dreamed for so long.

─ Don't let his tough exterior fool you, he could be a total idiot just for you, although he didn't always use the most legitimate means to get something you wanted, you couldn't do much either.

─ He always keeps you in a close hug, squeezing your shoulder and holding your body close to his as if they were going to steal you from his hands.

─ It's impossible for him not to worry, he knows the world he moves in and he is the weakest link among the Bonten executives, the guy who is in charge of some of the dirty work and knows that he has many guns pointed at him.

─ That's why he couldn't help but get involved in a shootout when he was trying to enjoy a night walk with you, he was incredibly quick to get you out of the way of the bullet that was aimed at your head, but he didn't expect for another one to embed itself in your lung seconds later.

─ His whole world shattered because he thought he had been able to save you, but seeing you dying in pain while he tried to take you to the nearest hospital was something worse than death for him, especially because you didn't make it.

─ It's not a surprise that the day after mourning that entire band was brutally murdered with just his fists, the sound of bones breaking under his knuckles was music to his ears that day.

[impval]

do you wanna feel how it feels? 

Cate Dunlap x fem! empath reader Warnings: implication of abuse, loss of arm, attempted suicide.

The fact that it even had a name; phantom pain...

As if the pain wasn't real. A figment of her imagination, her brain conjuring up something that didn't exist.

The fucking pain wasn't imagined. It was real. It didn't just hurt either. It itched. A deep rooted sort of itch, like an unshakable desire to scratch the pain away with her good hand—only, every time her fingers made contact with the stump, the burning pain intensified, and she would almost burst from the sudden pain and the urge not to cry.

Cate learned quickly, and she always had been a fast learner in all aspects of life. Maybe she deserved this life, too. Cate had hurt people. Even before Marie blew her arm off. And she only felt bad about those situations because it effected her in some way, didn't it? She was selfish.

She needed control—total, unfiltered control. No friends, no family, no lovers. No one got close enough to hurt her, and for as long as she could remember, those were the people who did her the most damage. 

She made the choice of control, and this time, she was sticking to it. Cate almost didn't recognize herself, anymore.

They made her a monster, so let her act like one.

Sam obeyed her every command, and at first, Cate thought this was what she wanted; the thrill of control gave her satisfaction—purpose, maybe? The closest thing she'd ever feel to not-being-alone.

But eventually, she just got bored.

She didn't believe it until she read it in the news; Marie and Jordan are out. All the others managed to flee (so are you). Their faces on every television and newspaper in the country.

Cate, initially, thought nothing of it. Or, rather, she tried to. Why should she care? But then a darker part, one that had been slowly growing—spreading inside her (like a cancer) felt an odd sense of dread.

It was a simple order: find the fugitives, bring them back.

The idea of recapturing her old friends gave Cate no satisfaction, but she was Vought's "property". They owned her, and if they said catch Marie and the others, that was what she'd do.

You were empath. There was no shutting down the feelings of others for you. It was like a constant flood, the emotions of people surrounding you always pounding in your skull. Your power was hard to balance. It was a lot for you to handle at times; all the raw emotions of those around you—you could hardly process your own.

A touch for a moment, and you could change someone for some time. Make them feel like they were on top of the world, or the most pathetic person walking. You hated this side of your power.

Marie was nice, but her fear was obvious even without your powers. Jordan was her feral dog - always with suspicion in their eyes. You were useful to them. But they knew you could feel the worst of their emotions, every dark secret and secret desire. It was too much for them to take, and they tried to keep their guard up.

You didn't even think about fighting back when Cate reached for you, gripping your wrist in her hand tightly.

You were so overwhelmed by the raw feelings she was exuding that it left you stunned. It's strange to feel another person so clearly. You let her take you, your senses full of her emotions; an unpleasant mixture of triumph and disgust and bitterness and shame. And beneath it all, desperation, and a sick sort of loneliness.

She was suspicious, of course. Despite how you probably felt about her, and what she'd done, you weren't angry. You didn't even look afraid of her.

You let her ask you questions—about where the others were, where they might be headed—anything and everything she wanted to know. You couldn't help but wince at how intense she was—one second anger, the next second fear—it was like trying to keep up with a hurricane, you couldn't understand how she could even function.

The realization of it feels like being doused in cold water, ice running down the back of her neck, as Cate processes exactly what that means. An empath. Fuck. Her mind spins. Of course. Why else would you look at her that way? Now that, that is interesting. "Well, if that isn't a delightful surprise," she murmurs, fingers idly tracing along your jaw, as Cate processes this sudden turn of events. "You know," she hums, the words soft against your ear. "That makes us two of a kind, then."

She can't imagine what it's like, to feel the feelings of others. It sounds exhausting, overwhelming even. Cate's only ever had to deal with her own emotions, her own darkness. But having to feel everyone else's as well—it's too much.

She had never encountered anybody with a power similar to hers, before. It's almost hard for her to believe.

She gets how lonely that sort of existence is.

It’s all too familiar to her—all the times she’s been rejected, told that she wasn’t good enough for someone else. It was the main reason she ended up taking control, forcing people to be with her.

The words that fall from your mouth wash over her. Cate can only imagine how it must have been, the emotions battering against your mind and soul, overwhelming and crushing, like drowning in a sea of thoughts and feelings. 

Your powers really are just reflections of each other.

You could never forget how terrifying it was to be a teenager and start feeling everything others around you felt. You thought you were crazy, losing your mind—and you would've given anything, anything to just make it stop.

Just for a moment. Just to get a bit of peace.

You say that the thoughts of suicide are in the past, but she can see the exhaustion on your face. As if you're carrying a weight that's far too heavy for what anyone should bear.

It makes her chest ache for you — because she understands, she knows.

She swallows, hands clenching into fists as she pictures it in her mind. You alone in a room, overwhelmed by the feelings of countless other people. And there was no escape, for it was your own power that caused it. You never got a break from it.

Her eyes linger on the scars, and she knows with certainty what they are, just by looking.

Cate reaches for your wrist again, this time her touch gentle, her fingers tracing along the scars with the slightest touch. It’s a soft, tender movement, so incredibly different from how she is to everyone else.

And the thought occurs to her—you could have been the same as her. You saw people, you felt people, you knew people. It was the same.

She hates that you’ve felt the same kind of pain, of loneliness, that she has. Hates that you’ve had to suffer through the same struggles that she has. It sounds like hell, what you’re explaining—an endless wave of emotion that relentlessly crashes over you with no way to stop it. A life where you feel other's pain like your own, like torture.

Cate hated how gentle your eyes were, how you looked at her like you still saw something good and sweet inside of her, even after everything she had done.

She shouldn't feel touched, or understood, or seen. She needed to push you away, keep herself from letting you in.

You two were so similar, and yet, so different. Though in the most basic sense, your abilities were the same—manipulation, and the reading of others. You were driven by logic, always thinking. Cate could be impulsive and irrational, making decisions based on emotion and feeling. She had no regard for the consequences of her actions, until they came back to bite her in the ass.

She wants to be with others, she craves to be loved—and yet, she's too scared to allow herself to get close to anyone. Too scared to let anyone hurt her, too scared to open herself up and give them the power. You see how deeply she craves some kind of connection with another person, even though she always pushes them away.

It was almost like fate that brought you both here. Your powers were similar, and you both understood. You were both forced to live a life of feeling others, of feeling them constantly around you, all the time.

Being in each other’s presence was comforting, it was a relief to be by someone who knew exactly what you were going through.

Neither of you were good at hiding what you felt—not that you could, with your powers. You both saw and felt so much. But that made it easy, in a way.

You both knew how much pain and suffering you could cause with a single touch. With you, she could touch you as much as she wanted, let her hand linger on your skin, and know she wouldn't have to worry about you. She could pull you into her lap, and press her face into your neck, and never let go. And you'd let her, more than let her.

She held you when you couldn’t find the strength to move, when you were almost shaking from the onslaught of emotions. You couldn't breathe, couldn't even think—but she never let you panic for too long.

With her, you wanted to be protective. You wanted to keep her safe, keep her close and take care of her. You wanted to help her with her past, with the memories that made her so cold all the time.

You held her just as closely, whispering in her ear when her arm ached and burned with pain. You stroked her back and told her it was alright, the pain would pass.

It was almost like seeing a mirror image. You were two sides of the same weird and twisted coin. It was unhealthy, but you wanted it and needed it.

All you could think of was each other, holding each other through the chaos. The only thing that mattered was each other and being close, protecting one another.

You were both a bit broken, a bit twisted, a little messed up. But to hell with that, you had each other.

All of her touches are so gentle. She's scared that you'll break, scared that if she holds too hard, she'll somehow make you vanish. You reach up and cup her face, feeling the emotions behind her touch. The need, the longing, and the ever-present loneliness. She closed her eyes and leaned into your touch.

[lovings4turn]

જ⁀➴  𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋  . . .  (𝐆. 𝐑.)

— two things are definite: you like george, and george likes you. unfortunately, you two seem to be the only ones who don't see it.

+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series ! love this song and i was so excited to use it for a george fic, so i hope you enjoy <3

“oh mate, you’re joking.”

“shut up!” george huffed, running the palm of his hand down his face in exasperation. “it was not that bad.”

he could defend himself all he liked, because in spite of that, george knew it really was.

this was possibly the third time this month that george had fumbled his chance to ask you out, and alex was beginning to grow tired of his friend’s constant pining and lingering stares. 

“here’s what you’re gonna do,” alex said, his voice growing more serious as he looked george dead in the eyes. “you’re gonna ring y/n, and you’re gonna tell her you forgot something at her place. a shirt, socks, anything.”

"but i haven't?"

"not the point," alex groaned. "you're gonna tell her that, so you have an excuse to turn up there. this is your chance. don't be a stupid. tell her you think she's cool, that you like her, something to charm her."

george still wasn't convinced. his brows were pinched together as he ran over alex's plan in his mind, able to find a thousand different ways it could go wrong for him.

"right. and what happens when she realises that i haven't actually left anything there, and i just look like a massive twat for showing up?"

alex wasn't sure that he could take any more.

"mate, you can't just sit around and wait for some sort of fairy tale ending to come out of nowhere for you. at some point, you're just going to have to confess to her."

though he was being assertive, alex was still trying to be supportive, laying a hand on george's shoulder and delivering a friendly pat of encouragement.

"i can promise you she's probably thinking the exact same thing right now, anyways."

george scoffed, his answer hanging in the air unspoken. as if.

unbeknownst to george, alex was a lot closer to the truth than even he may have realised.

the events of the afternoon were playing on a loop in your mind as you tried to dissect every last piece of your interaction with george, from how he'd greeted you - a brief side hug and a smile - to how he'd said goodbye - a weak effort to get you to stay and a silly, yet endearing, wave.

was this your life now? driving yourself mad over even the smallest little details, all because of some stupid feelings?

when you'd first started developing somewhat of a crush on the mercedes driver, you made a promise to yourself that it would never become a thing. and you had kept that promise for roughly four months, until you made a huge error: revealing your feelings to someone else.

ever since you had let it slip to a friend that you actually quite liked george in ways that far surpassed the platonic label, you'd been - for lack of a better phrase - absolutely fucked.

now you had people to fuel your delusions, try to convince you that george had to feel the same way, and no, of course he wasn't just being polite when he offered you his jacket, you fool. outside interference and reassurance should have made you more confident in your feelings, maybe even push you to confess, but instead they'd had the opposite effect.

the weight of the word 'hopeless' in hopeless romantic had really started to resonate with you. though you weren't allowed to dwell on your misfortunes for too long.

some may have chalked it up to fate, some may have attributed it to a divine power wanting to laugh at a poor mortal, but whatever the reason, your phone rang with an incoming call from george.

the stupid candid photo you’d taken as a contact picture flashed up on your screen, and the automatic smile that painted your lips made you want to yell in frustration.

"y/n, hi!"

pathetic was the perfect word to describe you, thanks to how utterly gone you were for george, as the mere sound of your name leaving his lips was enough to make your heart jump.

"sorry, know i only saw you a few hours ago, but i just remembered that i think i left one of my mercedes shirts at yours when i was there the other day."

you didn't even think twice about it, why would you? george had left countless items at your place in the past, and he would leave more in the future.

"no problem. y'can always come by and get it, i'll try and grab it for you."

george's chest ached at how ready to help you were.

"yeah? you're a lifesaver, y/n, really. i'll set off now, should be there in about fifteen minutes."

brief 'see you later's were exchanged, and the moment you set your phone down onto the coffee table, your hunt began.

you didn't recall seeing one of george's shirts anywhere around, but previous mishaps had enlightened you to the fact that things could turn up anywhere. you'd thought that the shoes buried right underneath your bed were odd, until a sock turned up in your bread bin a few weeks later.

nothing was off limits anymore.

yet, somehow, no matter where you looked, you couldn't find the fucking shirt. frustration slowly nibbled at your mind, the sound of a knock being the only thing to break you from your frantic search.

an annoyingly attractive george russell greeted you when you swung open the front door.

in all of the years he'd known you, george thought this was the most adorable you'd looked.

your hair was in disarray, the strands unkempt as though you'd been running your hands through it over and over again. your face shone a little, and you were clearly a little out of breath, if the small, panting gasps you took were anything to go by.

your apartment was a mess, and george quickly realised that you'd turned your entire place practically upside down to try and find a shirt that wasn't even there in the first place.

guilt began to bubble up in his throat, and george hoped that, after today, it would all be worth it. he only had one chance, and he wasn't going to fuck it up.

before he could allow doubt to creep into his mind and sow seeds of regret, george lifted a hand to cup your jaw. the feeling of your soft skin against his palm elicited a gasp to slip from his mouth. the parting of his lips provided you with the perfect opportunity to meld your lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.

feelings went unspoken, for now. time would grant you the chance to properly word every last affection you harboured for one another at a later date.

besides, george was a firm believer that actions spoke louder than words, and this kiss was living proof.

george forced himself to pull back, his forehead resting against your own, and he believed that to die like this would be a blessed fate. because you were definitely going to kill him when you found out the truth.

"i lied, by the way. there was no shirt," he mumbled, blue eyes meeting yours with a wince.

"you fucking dick."

[kwolz]

fem!reader, implied nsfw-ish but not explicit, soft dom / tall lilia implied, praise, lowercase intended, use of "baby", amateur writer, scrapped production

steady hums of the air conditioner rumbled quietly in the room but all you could hear was the loud and lewd sounds of skin-to-skin contact, your hips growing sore and thighs burning at the constant movement you were forced to keep up with.

panting heavily, you could hear your own voice growing even more needy as you pleaded quietly into crook of the man's shoulder, gripping the headboard behind him for dear life.

please, please please please please just–

chuckling lowly, lilia only pressed a reassuring kiss to the crown of your head, humming in approval when he hears you moan at such a simple act of affection.

“my baby can keep it up, can't she? she wants to make mister vanrouge happy, doesn't she? hm?”

the older man only let out an amused laugh with his head slightly thrown back as he listens to you whine loudly into his shoulder— he knew calling himself Mister Vanrouge had a prominent effect on his darling love and the old fae intended to abuse it as much as he wanted to.

he groans deeply into your ear after giving it a teasing lick, large hands once again coming around your bruised hips; lilia coos at your pitiful state— glassy eyes filled with tears and wet lips desperately chasing after his to which he grants your wish after making you beg a little, he liked hearing you beg.

“alright baby, you did well. let mister vanrouge take care of you, yeah?”

and with that, your body goes completely limp as you sighed in relief. arms wrapping around the man's broad shoulders and pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder as thanks before his grip on your hips signalled you to tighten your hold on him.

the man moved your body with ease even though you were straddling his lap. he lets out a shameless moan, cooing at how well you did for him and now you shall receive the reward you worked so hard for. his ever so teasing tongue darts out to lick at your sensitive neck, immediately headed for the sweet spot to further nibble and kiss at the love bites planted there.

“you gonna come, baby? gonna come for your mister vanrouge, eh? what a good girl.”

you could only nod your head frantically against his chest, pressing yourself closer and gripping on the front of his shirt, the fact that he was fully clothed in contrast to your bare body only made you feel even better and he knows it all too well.

written and posted by kwolz. copying, modifying, or reposting on any other platform are strictly prohibited.