#i think its something we all were curious to see

[satorusugurugurl]

hiiiii!!! I love your work💗💗💗

Could you do giving the JJK men a honey pack lol

I keep seeing it on my fyp😂

JJK Men: It’s Just Honey—Right?

Summary: JJK Men are given a honey pack, an aphrodisiac, and a male enhancer! What could possibly go wrong?

Characters: Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna(Modern AU), AFAB!Reader

Warnings: aphrodisiac use, smut, public play, language, degradation, unprotected sex, choking, oral sex (F receiving), prone bone, multiple positions, multiple orgasms. Somno

Word Count: 8.7K

A/N: Nonnie, sorry this request took so long! It just sort of took on a mind of its own! I hope you enjoy it. I know I did! 🥴💚

Geto Suguru:

“Does stuff like this even work?” You asked as you lay on the bed in the love hotel you were stuck in.

You and Geto had gotten stuck in a typhoon, and instead of risking one of the assistant supervisor's safety, to come pick you up. You both decided staying in a hotel for the night would be best. The only problem was that the only hotel with rooms was a love hotel. Which, of course, wasn’t an issue for you both, seeing that you were dating happily but were stuck in a love hotel to see all sorts of exciting things.

A majority of the things you saw were related to sex, from sex toys, videos, and male enhancers. You have heard about more common ones like Viagra. But you had never seen one as a pack of honey before. You tossed it up in the air, catching it in your palm before tossing it back into the air, watching the foil package flip before landing back into the palm of your hand. Your boyfriend looked at you from his chair across the room with an amused smile.

“Is this your way of asking if I’ve taken enhancers in the past before?”

“What, no, never! I was just wondering if they work. I’ve never taken one before. I know they make some for women. I’m just lucky enough that I’ve never needed it.”

“Well, I can assure you that I’ve never needed to take one before myself.”

“Oh, trust me, I am well aware of that.”

Suguru placed his book down before taking a long look at you. You were nothing but booty shorts and his T-shirt. You looked good enough to eat right now, and your curiosity had piqued a curious interest of his own. No one was coming for you both until the morning, which meant you had time to kill—or better yet, time to screw each other‘s brains out.

“Hey, can I see that for a second?”

Not thinking much of your boyfriend’s request, you threw the package at him, your eyes glued to the ceiling before you heard a ripping sound. For a second, you thought maybe it had been your imagination. There was no way your boyfriend, who was very logical, ripped open the aphrodisiac honey, but there was the only way to be sure that he hadn’t done something like that; slowly, you turned your head as your boyfriend squeezed the entire package into his mouth, violet eyes watching you as he did so there was a dark, mischievous glee behind them as he stuck his tongue out, letting the honey drip all over his tongue.

You sputtered and blinked before opening and closing your mouth in disbelief. ”S-Suguru? What did you do?” Suguru’s pink tone darted out slowly, trailing over his bottom lip. Not once did his eyes leave yours.

“I’m conducting an experiment.”

“An experiment?”

“A majority of the time, stuff like this doesn’t work. It’s mostly for show, like a placebo for the brain. So we want to know if it works, so let’s put it to the test.”

It was safe to say that Suguru’s initial theory was wrong. The honey packet that he ingested was, in effect, a very real aphrodisiac. He was fine; one second, and the next, his cock was as hard as a diamond. Regret settled in his bones as he glanced back at you, who had taken notice of the tent in his pants. You didn’t say anything; instead, your actions spoke volumes. You took your shirt off by throwing it in his face, followed by your shorts and your underwear.

He swallowed, cheeks flushing, a dusty rose before he was up in on you like green on grass. The normal foreplay and preparation he always carefully took was the furthest thing on his mind. All he could focus on was how hard his cock hurt. It throbbed painfully as he tugged his pants down, freeing his erection—the tip red with rage as he spit into his hand, lubing it up.

“Need you.” he snarled, “I fucking need you.”

Suguru didn’t even give you a chance to respond to him. Because the second you opened your mouth, he had flipped you over onto your stomach while he laid flat on top of pressing the head of covk against your tight entrance. You shuddered, gripping the sheets as he slammed into you, gritting his teeth as he buried his face in the space between your shoulder blades. The sensation of his hot breath against your cool skin sent shivers throughout your body, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake.

Your boyfriend had lost it. He had entirely completely and irrefutably lost his composure. And you weren’t at all upset about it.

“Fuuuck!” You cried out as he set a brutal pace. “S-Sugu—-!”

“Need you.” He repeated in an almost primal growl. “I need all of you!”

You squeaked out a whimper as he sank his teeth into your shoulder before leaving a trail of kisses and hickeys all along your skin. He was marking you up, claiming you as his and his alone. The need that seeped out of his being through his actions and words left you feeling dizzy.

“S-Sugu!”

“Ahhn! Fuck! Princess.”

Watching him lose control like this, feeling him pressing against you in the rawest way, had your eyes rolling back as he forced himself inside. Your muffled moans left Suguru's cock throbbing so hard inside of you that he was afraid he would cum right then in there. He wasn't sure if it was the honey, or his own desire, but he was losing himself at the feeling of being inside of you. You were so wet and tight, and god, you smelt heavenly.

This new-found lust, the desire, had him digging his hands into the sheets underneath you. The earthy musk had your head spinning, fueling your desire as if you had partaken of the honey yourself. You cried out as Suguru continued littering your skin with bites. It was so raw, so hot, and you were already on the edge.

“S-Sugu!” You cried out, feeling your walls clamping around him, squeezing him for all that he was worth. “Suguru I-I—!”

You didn't need to say those last few words as a curtain of dark hair fell around you. “I know,” Suguru grunted, pulling all the way out before slamming into you, making the bed creak under your combined weight. “I can feel it~ feel your tight walls convulsing; I feel you trying to hold back.” His lips pressed against your cheek, breath hot against your sweat-sheened skin. “Don't do that, baby~ I wanna feel you~ wanna make you feel good with my cock.” Your hips rolled shamelessly back against Suguru’s cock, his words egging you.

“C-Close—”

“Yeah, it feels good, doesn't it, Princess~? My thick cock stretching you out, making you feel so good?”

“M-Mhmm!” Your toes curled, breathing quickening as Suguru used all of his strength to fuck you into the mattress. “F-Fuck! I-I’m gonna! Gonna!”

“Yeah— cum for me, baby! Cum all over my cock.”

His words alone, dark and needy, sent you tumbling over the edge. You screamed into the pillow, crying tears of ecstasy as your orgasm was ripped out of you. It was violent and oh-so-tucking good, leaving you a convulsing mess underneath your boyfriend, who shuddered, cock throbbing inside of you. Warmth flooded your pussy as he came, the hot spurt filling you, but not once did Suguru stop. He kept going fucking into you like a crazed animal, stopping you as you weakly tried pulling away.

Once he stopped, you shakily lifted your head out of the sheets, crying out softly as his still-hard cock twitched inside of you. It seemed as though the package wasn't lying about enhancing male performance. Your boyfriend had just filled you up and was raring to go for another round, which was both alluring and terrifying at the same time.

“You okay?” Suguru questioned, voice gravely in your ear as he gently peppered your skin with kisses. You swallowed hard, trying to alleviate the burning in your throat. “Good.”

Without a warning, Suguru slowly began thrusting in and out of you. He kept his pace soft and sweet to not overstimulate you. But before you knew it, those soft, slow thrusts were replaced with the mean, bullying backshots he had just given you. He kept that pace up for over an hour. Face down, ass up on the mattress. His cock had been so hard that it hurt, and no matter how many times he had cum inside of you, it didn't feel like it was enough.

Until he was the one suffering from the overstimulation. He was panting and crying against your lips as his cock throbbed inside of you, draining the last of his cum inside of your wet and willing hole. Both of you were completely gone at that point. Nothing more than a heap of twitching muscles as Suguru lay down, staring up at the ceiling in a daze.

“Y-You good?” You asked in between gasps.

Suguru swallowed hard, reaching for a water bottle on the side of the bed and handing it to you. “S-So fucking good—“ Suguru sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you tight against his side. “I-I think that e-experiment was a success.” You swallowed the last gulp before handing the half bottle to your boyfriend.

“A success indeed.” He slowly reached for his phone, texting on the screen with a lazy smirk. “And it’s an experiment gonna get me out of some paperwork.”

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna tell Satoru about it. Get out of some work for a while.”

“Oooh, texting your ‘boyfriend’ after you just put me in ninety-nine positions?” There was a joking tone to your teasing, but your boyfriend scoffed, sitting up to hover over you.

He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. “I’m texting my best friend this so I can get out of extra work and spend that free time with you—” he reached for the nightstand waving the other honey pack in your face. “and the honey pack.”

“Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Text him!”

Gojo Satoru:

You had been minding your business, watching some trashy reality TV show, when a box was tossed on the coffee table. You pull your eyes away from the screen long enough to watch a flash of white blur before Satoru plopped down on the ground. Something was going on, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to participate. He snickered, rubbing his hands together as he looked the box over. Something was going on, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to participate.

But your curiosity got the better, urging you to find out why your boyfriend was in such a good mood. “What are you up to, Toru?” Your body almost moved as you kicked your blanket off, sitting on the floor beside him.

“Suguru and I made a bet.”

Yeah, if it were a bet between the two idiots, you definitely would not want to participate in this with them.

“What is with the two of you making bets against each other?” Satoru lost his hearing when it came to that comment. “Baby, what even is this?”

To answer your question, he ripped the tape off the box opening it up. Reaching his hand inside, he pulled out a pouch. The words ‘Honey Package’ were written in red, with hearts surrounding it. Before you could even begin telling Gojo, you had no intentions of taking whatever was in it. He flipped it over, resting it against the palm of his hand, revealing the clear backside of the package. Inside was a thick amber-colored liquid, which looked just like honey.

“This is like Viagra, but in honey form.”

“Satoru, keeping up with your stamina already is nearly too much. There’s no way you need to take one of those!”

“Ooh, please, you love my stamina. It keeps up with your sex drive.” He wasn't wrong about that at all. “Besides, there’s no way this shit works.”

Oh, well, this conversation took off in a completely different direction. “Huh?” You blinked, eyeing the package as Satoru squished it in his hand, using it like a stress ball. “Wait, you don’t think it’s gonna work?” Cerulean eyes almost glimmered with annoyance as they darted in your direction.

“Baby, these aphrodisiacs never work. What happens is you eat a bunch of strawberry chocolate, and you think that it’s an aphrodisiac urging you to fuck. This right here.” The foil packaging crumpled slightly. He ripped up one of the corners. “Is some rich assholes gimmick to try to make a bunch of money. These Influencers get a free sample and act like they fuck all night. They make a commission off of it. So yes, I don’t think it works.”

“But Suguru does? I thought for sure it would be the other way around.”

“Yeah, this is gonna be the easiest bet I’m gonna win.” You hummed, watching as Satoru squeezed the honey into his mouth. “I’m going to make him every single dessert from the many of the newest cafés downtown.”

“And what does he get if you lose?”

“Bragging rights, and I would have to do all his paperwork for an entire week.”

Satoru sighed constantly at the thought of syncing his teeth into some delicious sweets as he tossed the empty package onto the table before kicking his feet out in front of him, placing his hands behind his head. He had this in the bag, no doubt about that.

It only took thirty minutes to pass.

You were the first to notice something wasn't quite right with your loving boyfriend. He looked flushed; his hands gripped the sofa cushions for dear life, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. You decided it would be best for you to keep an eye on him in case he had some kind of reaction to the honey. It could be dangerous to take enhancers like that, not knowing what sort of effect they would have on the person. The last thing you wanted was for him to get sick.

Another ten minutes passed, and Satoru threw his jacket off along with his pants, leaving him in nothing but his T-shirt and boxers. Although he had put himself in this state, you hated seeing him in such discomfort. With a heavy sigh, you got on your knee and pressed your hand against his forehead. He was hot to the touch, and you needed to lower his temperature.

“Toru, sweetie, let's get you in the shower, okay?” He panted heavily, cloudy crystalline blue eyes meeting yours. “We'll take a cool shower to get your temperature down.”

“I—-need—”

You frowned, leaning closer toward his mouth. “What was that? You need what?” Satoru's pretty lips quivered before his hand flew up, grabbing you by the arms and pushing you against the sofa. “T-Toru.” Your boyfriend towered above you, panting heavily as he looked you up and down with a growl, his erection throbbing in his boxers.

“I need you.” He growled, his hand reaching down, squeezing his cock. “I need you so bad; it hurts, baby. Please, please, I need you.”

Two things were clear to you at that moment. One, your boyfriend would be doing a ton of paperwork for the next month, and second, you were in for a fight for your life. The logical part of your brain told you to run; he had put himself in this situation so he could deal with it on his own. The other more empathetic part of you once against hated seeing him suffering.

Against all logical reasoning, you sighed, reaching down and tugging your shorts and panties off.

“You're not ever taking this shit again.” You Pulled him up, heading to the bedroom, where you shoved him down on the bed. “This shit has you all hot, chemicals and stuff.”

“It’s all organic.” He barked out, pulling you down onto the mattress with him. “It’s not so much bad as it’s well—” he trailed his fingers up the curves of your breasts. “It’s different,” Gojo finally whispered, his hand mimicking slowly moving up along your collarbone, sliding down the swell of your breasts. Your breath caught in your throat as he began massaging them, “And different isn't always a bad thing.” he nipped at your ear.

Gojo’s fingers slid further down, tracing circles around your nipples. They hardened automatically, causing you to arch your back at the sensations. Perhaps he was right—maybe this wasn't as bad as you thought it was going to be. You moaned, running your hand over Gojo’s crotch, palming at his already throbbing erection. Your moans and Gojo’s growls of pleasure began mixing, making it sound as though there was a promo playing in the background. But there wasn't; it was just you and your very hornh boyfriend.

“Fuck I need to touch you, Sweetie.” He said in a barely audible tone against the crook of your neck, “God, I need to. Need to be inside of you.” His hand slid further down, teasing your mound with careful fingers. As he did, he nipped and sucked on your neck, leaving you whimpering as you straddled him. You bucked your hips into his hand, craving more of his touch, wanting to feel his skin on your intimate parts.

“Toru, don’t tease me.” you begged through moans as you slid your hand into his boxers, “touch me baby.” Satoru hisses as you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and stroke him up and down. The contact had Gojo growling like a wild beast, thrusting into your hand, his fingers slipping further down until his entire hand was cupping your dripping sex.

You felt as though you were high off the honey as you inhaled sharply when his fingers slid up and down the lips of your pussy. “Holy shit, Sweetheart,” he growled lustfully in your ear, “you’re so fuckin’ wet.” Those long sinful fingers of his rubbed circles around your clit, causing you to gasp, “Mhmm, and it’s all for me.”

“And you’re so hard, Gojo,” you managed to whisper, “n-not that you aren't hard all the time. But you're fuck, you're so hard!” You began rubbing the pad of your thumb over the slit of his cock, “So fucking hard.” Pre-cum smeared over the sensitive head, leaving him moaning loudly as he dipped his fingers inside of you, pumping them. He watched as you peered up at him, moaning, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

Your boyfriend pressed his forehead against yours as he kept pumping his fingers. The fucking honey was enhancing everything he felt. The adoration for you, the lust, fuck he had never been this horny in his entire life. He let those feelings fuel him, helping him move as the two of you worked each other towards extraordinary mind-blowing orgasm.

Gojo curled his fingers, brushing them across your g-spot. You gasped loudly, squeezing his cock, causing him to growl loudly, pumping faster and harder against that sweet spot. You did your best to hold out as long as you could; you didn't want to cum too soon.

“Sweetheart,” Gojo licked your earlobe, nibbling it between his teeth. “Cum for me.” When he told you to do so, that was a different story.

You came hard, rocking against his fingers. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you as Gojo kept moving his fingers, extending your orgasm. Your toes curled into the sheets as you arched your back, pressing your bare breasts against his chest. Gojo kept moving, not stopping until you were panting, basking in the afterglow of your release. When you finally opened your eyes, you met the lust-filled cerulean eyes of your boyfriend. He was staring at you, stroking your mound lazily.

“Toru,” you tugged at his shirt, “I need you to fuck me right now.” He was happy to oblige, stripping his shirt off and throwing it on the side of the bed before Gojo rolled, pushing you back against the mattress and hovering over you. He looked like he was seconds away from cumming, so you decided it would be best for you to take control, so you quickly rolled, flipping him back over so you were straddling him.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” His voice was as grave as he groaned, gripping your hips as you lowered yourself onto his impressive cock. You shivered, resisting the urge to start riding him right then and there and opting to enjoy the feeling of him stretching you out. “Sweetie,” Satoru groaned, squeezing your hips. “Nngh!!” the honey had him desperate, wanting to fuck, so for you just to sit there, not moving, was literal torture. “Holy nngh! Fuck please, ride me already. You’re killing me here!” He thrusts up, causing you to gasp, making you bounce up and down. “That’s more like it.”

You nodded, grabbing your boyfriend's hands and sliding up the curves of your body before placing them on your breasts. Understanding your silent request, Satoru massaged and kneaded them, brushing his thumb and index fingers over your sensitive nipples. You whimpered, rocking your hips, his cock hitting your g-spot with every rock of your hips. Gojo sat up, thrusting eagerly to meet your rhythm.

You dig your fingers into Gojo’s fluffy tufts of pristine white hair, pulling him close to your breasts. He took the hint, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging, sucking, and nipping at it. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His fingers dug into the small of your back; you were pretty sure you were going to have bruises there tomorrow.

With each thrust from Gojo, you grew closer and closer, chasing your orgasm. Gojo's mouth continued to assault your nipples, teasing them ever so slightly. By this time, you and Gojo's moans groans, and growls of pleasure flooded the room. The two of you were so loud you were positive the neighbors would file a noise complaint against you.

But you didn't give a fuck about that.

All that mattered was how good Satoru felt. How your nails dug into his back, scratching at his flawless skin as he thrusts deeper and harder inside of you. You let out screams, digging your nails deeper into his skin as he flips the two of you over. Gojo stares at you before slamming his lips on yours. His tongue is fighting against yours for dominance. He growls, thrusting faster and deeper inside you.

“Toru, I’m gonna cum!” You gasped, gripping his hair and staring into his stunning eyes. He stares back into yours; he smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, kissing your lips softly.

“Cum for me, sweetie,” he mutters against your lips, “Haaah~ fuck yes, cum for me, cum with me.” He pounded ruthlessly into you, gripping the headboard and slamming into your g-spot.

You wrapped your legs around his digging your heels in his ass and pulling him deeper. And it sends you over the edge, you gasp, your orgasm rippling through you. You tighten around Gojo, and he groans, burying his face in your neck as he thrusts a few more times before following you over the edge, cumming inside you.

You lay there, Gojo’s weight crushing you, but you don't mind. After taking a second to catch his breath, he chuckled softly, pulling out of you before laying on his back, placing you flat on his chest. He took a deep breath, running his finger through your hair. You turned your head, resting it over his heart with a dorky smile.

“That was—”

“Amazing,” Gojo finished for you. That was amazing.” You giggled, nodding in agreement.

“Beyond amazing.”

“Mhmm.”

“Hey Gojo?” He lifted his head, staring into your eyes.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” You bite your bottom lip, kissing up his chest.

“Do you have any more of that, honey? I wanna try some with you.” You felt him tense. He grinned quickly, placing you on the side before he stood up, running out of the room and grabbing a package off the counter.

“Have as much as you like!” as you ripped the package open with your teeth, Satoru lifted your legs placing them over his shoulders as he kissed your inner thighs “Sit back and relax while you wait for it to kick in.” You swallowed the sweet liquid in your mouth before reaching down and running your hands through Gojo’s soft tufts of hair as he dragged his tongue up your slit. “I can keep myself entertained for now.”

Nanami Kento:

With Nanami working so many hours and you staying home caring for your daughter. You and Nanami hardly have any time alone anymore. Sure, you were able to sneak a date here and there—a quickie in the morning before he had to go to work. The romance, sex, and relationship were planned now. But Nanami missed the spontaneous sex; he missed laying in bed with you, hearing your gasps and moans. Feeling the way you would clamp down on him when you came.

God, he missed the sex.

Nanami sighed, running a hand over his face as he unlocked the door to your house. All the lights were off, meaning you had most likely put your daughter to bed, seeing that it was close to three in the morning. Kento dropped his keys and messenger bag on the entry table before heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Sitting on the counter was a loaf of homemade bread and a package of honey. Kento cocked an eyebrow as he approached the treat that had been left out for him. A sticky note with your handwriting on it was next to the bread.

‘It must have been a long day~ enjoy this aphrodisiac honey, and wake me up in the sweetest way you can. You have his full consent even if I’m asleep. Much Love— your wife!’

Kento reread the note several times before eyeing the honey. Aphrodisiac honey? He had heard you mention it before. You suggested trying one of these weekends when you both had time together, which might be a fun treat. And he was tired and stressed from a long day. He couldn't deny how his pants tightened at the thought of waking you up horny and completely needy.

Kento sliced himself a piece of bread without much thought before smearing it with the honey. It was surprisingly good. Most aphrodisiacs he had heard of had an odd taste to them. This tasted like honey bread. And that in itself was dangerous.

Kento managed to eat two slices of honey bread before he began feeling the effects working its way down to his cock. He wanted you, and seeing that you had given him your consent, he planned on having you. Not wanting to waste any more time, Kento headed up the stairs, gripping the railing. He quickly stopped into the nursery next to your bedroom to check on your daughter, who was sleeping peacefully. Nanami smiled, brushing back a cur of her hair before leaning down and kissing her forehead before heading into the master bedroom.

The lamp on your side of the bed was still on. It looked like you had fallen asleep while reading a book, and now you are resting on your chest. Kento leaned against the front of the bed, watching his wife sleep peacefully. Your chest moved up and down as you dreamed away. Your beautiful hair was sprawled against the pillow as the low light of the lamp illuminated your beautiful body. Your soft skin was complimented by your navy nightgown that hugged your curves perfectly. God, he was so lucky to have you in his life.

You muttered something, moaning softly as you dreamed. That sound had Nanami’s cock twitching as you rolled on your back, completely exposing your body to him. The honey seemed to take over his body. He had to have you right now. With a glance back at the nursery, Nanami decided to go through with his horny desires. He made quick work of shedding out of his clothes. If he was quiet enough, maybe he could get away with a midnight snack before he went to bed without waking your daughter.

Kento crawled under the sheets and comforter, slowly making his way up the bed. He listened to his wife for any sign that you had woken up, but you were still fast asleep. When he finally reached your feet, he began placing kisses on both of them, gently spreading your legs open as he made his way closer and closer to her pussy. Nanami nipped and sucked at your inner thighs, dragging his slight stubble on his chin over your soft skin.

He could never get over how soft your skin was. Or how you shivered under his lips, How you were wet with the slightest touch of his hands and lips. The honey was making his head whirl as he finally met your cunt. Ever so slowly, Nanami dragged his tongue along the folds of your pussy, moaning at your sweet taste. You were sweeter than the honey he had eaten. You were wet and delicious, so of course, he found himself reaching up and grabbing your hips as he pulled himself closer to your pussy, desperately wanting to taste more of you against his tongue.

“Mmm,” you whimpered in your sleep, moving slightly under his touch. That slight movement left Kento licking faster, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking in it hard. Your hips buckled slightly as he swirled his tongue around the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue against you. “K-Ken.” you exhaled softly, rocking your hips roughly as you dreamed.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered against your folds, sliding two fingers inside of you. When he breached the tight ring of muscles, he began pumping them, and suddenly, the sheets flew back. Nanami looked up at you, seeing flushed cheeks as you propped yourself up on your elbows, staring down at your husband.

“K-Kento, what are you doing?” you whispered between moans as he pumped his fingers faster, “Oh his God.” you groaned, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your hand reached down, gripping his hair, tugging it as he continued to kiss you. “Y-You found the h-honey!”

“Mhmm,” he moaned against you, moving his head back and forth, curling his fingers inside of you, moving them in the ‘come hither’ motion. “And it was delicious~ but my Love, you’re far sweeter.” Your hips bucked forward as you began convulsing around his fingers. Nanami could hear your breathing in fast, quiet pants as you tried to control your volume. Knowing he had that kind of effect on you had him smirking against your pussu, feeling you come undone over his slightest touches; God, the honey had already affected him, but you turned him on even more.

“K-Kento— I-I’m gon-” you could barely get out the rest of the sentence as his lips took your clit into his mouth again, and he sucked at you relentlessly. Pulling out gasps and earth-shattering moans that had him grinding against your mattress. Your hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the screams that threatened to escape. The last thing either of you wanted was to wake your daughter

Your left hand tangled in his blonde locks, tugging on it as you came against his mouth. Wave after wave of pleasure shook your body as he continued sucking; his honey-brown eyes were dull from the amount of pleasure of watching you cum. God, he fucking loved you.

You panted roughly, slowly releasing your grasp on his hair. This allowed him to pull away, licking his lips before pulling his fingers out of you with a hiss. You shivered, watching as he slowly stuck his fingers into his mouth, sensually licking them clean. The seductive act left you staring at him as if he were one of the world's wonders. Seeing the hunger in your eyes, Nanami chuckled.

“If I didn't know any better, I would think you had eaten the honey.” He popped his fingers back into his mouth, watching as you slowly licked your lips before reaching up and cupping his face. Nanami followed your needy movements, letting you bring his face down to yours, kissing you deeply while pulling him down on top of you and trapping him there, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Kento,” you whispered against his lips as he pulled away, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Need you.” You nipped your teeth at his bottom lip. He moaned, slamming his lips against you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His tongue moved against yours, massaging it as you rocked your hips against his crotch. He was so hard; he needed more of you. Nanami trailed his hands over the curves of your body, reaching for the front of your nightgown, kneading at your breasts.

You arched into his touch as he pulled your nightgown down, exposing your breasts to him. He took one of your perky nipples into his mouth and began sucking on your breast, tugging at it with his teeth, drawing out a long, loud moan from you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he continued to suck and nip at you. Nanami groaned as your hands slowly trailed down his back, tugging his boxers off, allowing his erection to spring free from her confinements. Your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it with your hand softly. Kentowas already hard, but your touch made him even harder. He was eager for more, wanting to plunge into your slickened folds.

“Enough teasing,” you whispered against his neck as you trailed kisses down it, “I’m more than ready for you now.” you nipped at his skin, spreading your legs for him, “I want you, Kento.” How could he deny you? He made quick work pulling your nightgown off completely before kicking his boxers off. He hovered over you, cupping your face as he kissed you again.

“I love you, darling.” he whispered, grabbing his cock with his free hand and stroking it slightly, “Fuck, I love you so much; I missed you.”

“Show me how much you missed me,” you whispered breathlessly, staring into his honey-brown eyes. “Show me, Ken.”

As you commanded, he slowly began sliding inside of her. He groaned, feeling your juices coat the head of his cock. Kento bit down on his lip, trying to control himself. The honey had made his body overly sensitive. He can control himself. He watched her instead, enjoying the face you made. Her mouth opened slightly, and your cheeks flushed. You were such a beautiful woman. And this lovely woman had her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer towards your center.

“More,” You whispered through a moan, “I need more of you.” he nodded, kissing you lovingly as he slid deeper inside of you, his cock nestled deep inside of your pussy, hitting your cervix. “F-Fuck—” Kento paused for a moment, but only a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size before he began slamming in and out of you. “Y-Yes, oh fuck yes, Ken!.” you cried out, which was quickly silenced as Nanami placed his fingers over your lips.

“Shh, you’ll wake her up.” you mewled, nodding as you pursed your lips together as Nanami began thrusting slowly. He groaned as you lifted your hips in time with him, making his pace quicken. Your gasps and moans meddled in with the creaking bed. A symphony of pleasure that only made Nanami more eager. The honey made you look even more delicious as you arched your back, begging for more. To which he happily complied. Nanami’s hands slowly slid between your bodies. You bit down on your lip as his thumb instantly found your clit.

“Kento!” you gasped as his thumb lazily began tracing circles around the bundle of nerves. Which resulted in your bucking as he began slamming into you. Kento’d cock was painfully hard, but it didn't stop him from ramming against your g-spot with every thrust. In no time, your walls began clamping down on him.

“Fuck Love, you feel so good, baby.” He gasped loudly, thrusting deeper inside of you. His hands kneaded her breasts, his thumb and forefinger gripped and twisted your nipples, all while he trailed kisses down your neck, letting the aphrodisiac lead him. Your hands gripped his ass, gasping loudly as you whispered his name.

Kento felt the pleasure building inside his lower abdomen, like a coil tightening in his stomach. He was close. And from the way you were rocking against him, how you threw your head back, moaning softly, he knew you were close too. His fingers began rubbing your clit in faster and harder as he thrust quickly as fast as he could. Listening to the sound of you whimpering on a strangled gasp as he moved his hand to cover your mouth.

“That’s my girl, cum for me, cum all over me, baby.” you nodded, moaning loudly against his hand as you clamped down on your husband's cock. Your orgasm hits you hard, coating Nanami’s cock with your juices. Feeling you cumminf so hard left Nanami growling, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his thrusts less rhythmed as he fell over the edge following your orgasm. You could feel it as he came deep inside of you. But not once did his hips stop. They kept thrusting as your pussy milked me dry, making him spill his seed deep inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you, removing his hand from your mouth. The two of you lay there panting in the haze of our orgasms. After a few moments to breathe, Nanami looked at you, smirking as he kissed your lips gently, winning a kiss back from you.

“Welcome home,” you smiled, gently stroking his cheek. It looks like the honey worked.”

“Mhmm, you should order us some more.” He nuzzled your neck, winning a giggle from his wife.

“I couldn’t agree more.” You kissed his head as he rolled over, holding you in his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Darling. God, I love you so much.” he whispered against your hair, inhaling the scent of your favorite shampoo. “I’m so happy to be home.” he muttered as you snuggled close to him. The two of you lay there in bliss before you finally fell asleep in his arms. Kento grinned, kissing your head before closing his eyes and following you into dreamland.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Ehem!” your boyfriend groaned, clearing his throat for the thousandth time that morning. “Fuck, my throat is so scratchy.”

You gave him a smile as he drank some water. “ I told you screaming would hurt your throat.” Sukuna narrowed crimson eyes at you, but he didn’t argue because you had, in fact, warned him about that last night at the concert. “And just so you know, water isn’t going to help with that.” this time, your boyfriend scoffed, raising a pierced at you as he placed his glass down on the counter.

“Oh, and what makes you say that?”

“Because I am medically trained, " you said, placing the kettle on the stove and grabbing a mug from the cabinet. “Hot tea will be better to ease that scratchy feeling.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

While the kettle was slowly heating up, you searched the pantry, grabbing a teabag and the honey. Only you found no honey left, well, not enough for honey tea. You would have to remember to add that to the list the next time you go to the grocery store. But luckily for you, you had luck at the bachelorette party you had gone to the weekend before. The entryway dug through your purse, pulling out the goodie bag you were given when you left. Of the goodie bag was a mixture of penis-shaped candy condoms that were too small for your boyfriend and a package of honey. Which you had assumed was reserved for food. But the food place would have to wait. Easing Sukuna’s discomfort was more important than pleasure.

When the kettle finally went off, whistling to let you know it was ready, you hurried back into the kitchen. Sukuna watched as he poured the hot water over the teabag in his mug. “Let the tea steep for five minutes and then pour this into it,” you instructed, tossing the package at him.

“Honey pack?” Sukuna asked as he caught it with ease, reading the label. He turned it over, examining the contents before shrugging his shoulder. “Alright, whatever you say. You are the medically trained one.” you fought back a laugh as you leaned over the counter, pressing your lips against his. “Have a good day at work, oh-so-well-trained-one.”

“I will dork; I love you.”

“Ditto.”

When you made it to work, you gushed to your coworkers about the concert Sukuna had taken you to the night before. He somehow managed to get tickets to your favorite band and got you VIP seating. The night had been one of the best nights of your life. You both had gotten drunk and screamed to the songs at the top of your lungs before passing out back at his apartment. It has been so much fun and you would never forget it.

“You are so in love with him.” Your work Bestie laughed as you dreamily sighed, wishing the clock would move faster.

“I am; he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You were a second away from getting up to room a patient when you heard thundering footsteps approaching your desk. Quickly, looking over your shoulder, your manager and one of the receptionists approached you. You could tell there was something wrong from the panicked look on their faces.

You pushed away from your desk, pressing back the rising fear within you. “What happened?”

“Your boyfriend is here in the lobby. He’s asking for you, saying there’s an emergency. Grab your stuff and go. I’m going to clock you out,” your manager said as you began collecting your things.

You began running through the office, slamming the doors to the lobby open. Did something happen to his brothers? Was Yuuji okay at school? Or did something happen to Choso? There were so many different scenarios that could’ve happened. You need to get out of here fast. You picked up your pace bursting through the open door finding Sukuna waiting for you. His chest was rising and falling; his cheeks were slightly flushed as if he had run the entire way to your building. When those crimson eyes met yours, he moved, grabbed your hand, and tugged you out of the office.

You held onto him, running to keep up with his long strides. He didn’t say a word. Maybe he wanted to get to a more intimate place to tell you what was happening. When you made it into the parking garage, you saw his car waiting a few rows back. You quickly opened the front door to the passenger seat, but the door didn’t open entirely as Sukuna touched it, slamming it shut.

“Kuna?”

“Get in the back.”

His voice was hoarse and full of need. A raw need that had heat pooling between your thighs. “H-Huh?” your question went unanswered as his eyebrow twitched and evident frustration.

“I said get in the fucking backseat.” to emphasize his point, he opened the door to the back, pushing you towards it.

You quickly crawled into the backseat without any other swelling as you turned your head to look at him. He was even heavier than when he was in your office. His cheeks were a darker shade of red as he growled at the side of you, sprawled against his backseat. Your eyes down his body and find his gray sweats too tight around the crotch, and that source of the tightness twitched. Did he seriously pull you out of work because he was horny?!

“K-Kun—what the fuck is happening? My boss said it was an emergency.”

You scooted back, watching as Sukuna ducked his head, joining you in the backseat and slamming the door behind him. “What was I supposed to say? hey I need you to send my girlfriend home because my cock feels like it’s going to explode.” He reached for you, tugging your scrub pants down tossing them into car's front seat. “I don’t think she would’ve been so keen on you leaving for that reason.” your underwear was suddenly his next target as they were ripped off using all of his strength.

“W-What happened to you? You couldn’t help but giggle at the desperation in his movements. “I just left like an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well, I started feeling fucking weird after you left.” He pulled his sweats down enough to free himself. His cock bounced, the tip leaking pre-cum as he pulled you into his lap, spitting into his hand, lubing up his cock. “It didn’t make a lot of sense as to why I felt so fucking horny until I put it together.”

Straddle his hips, gripping onto his shoulders. “And what did you manage to put together, Kuna?” he grabbed your hips, forcing you down onto him without so much as a warning, drawing out a gasp from you as he hissed.

“That Honey Pack you gave me is an aphrodisiac.”

Suddenly, it became very clear as to why they would include that in a goodie bag at a bachelorette party. Those thoughts,s however, were suddenly clouded with pleasure as Sukuna dug his fingers into your hips, beginning to jackhammer up into your dripping cunt. “Fuck!” You cried out, throwing your head back and leaving your neck exposed. Your boyfriend took the opportunity to bite into your neck with an almost feral snarl as his hips kept bucking up into you at a nearly inhuman speed. “O-Oh my god fuck!!”

“Mmphm~.” he pulled away, running his tongue over the Mark. He had left on your skin. The chill of his tongue piercing left you shivering above him on his lap. “You have no clue how hard it was for me to control myself, and I saw you running towards me back there. I nearly lost a little control. I had on myself and fucked you right there in the lobby.”

“O-Oooh, oooh nngh.”

Sukuna, even in his horny thoughts, felt you clench around him at his words. “Oh, what was that? Would you like that, you dirty fucking slut? Do you want me to fuck you in public in front of all your coworkers? Then they would know you aren't this innocent little medical assistant. They would know you’re my dirty fucking slut.” you clenched harder around him. “Oh my God, you would like that!”

“K-Kuna!”

“That’s not an answer,” he growled, fisting your hair, yanking your head to the side, exposing the other side of your neck. “Use your words Kitten.” his teeth sank into the other side of your neck as he bullied his cock deeper inside of you, rubbing the tip greedily against your cervix in an almost painful way, but the pleasure overwhelmed the pain.

“Yes!! Yes, I want that! I want you!”

Hearing you say that caused the last cord of strength in Sukuna to snap. He moved with a certain despite being cramped in the back of his car. Your back hit the seat, knocking the air out of your lungs as the head of his cock slammed against your cervix harder. When you looked up at him, you whimpered. Something instinctual told you to submit to the much larger predator above you. Your body wanted it to give into him, allowing him to have his way with you.

Sukuna growled, his pierced tongue slowly over his bottom lip as those dark, lust-filled eyes watched you tremble underneath him. He had to have you. And every way he possibly could. Sukuna pulled out, groaning at the feeling of your inner walls, attempting to prevent him from leaving, but they didn’t need to try to stop him because he had no intention of pulling out.

“My dirty slut.” Sukuna growled as he slammed back into using all of his strength. “Wantk g fuck him in front of your coworkers in front of a bunch of strangers.” he leaned over you, pressing his lips against yours. “Even if that were something you would want, I would never do that. Because I would kill anyone who looked at you like that.”

“N-Nnngh—oh—fuck!”

Your wall squeezed around him hugging his cock tight. “Are you squeezing down on me because it turns you on to know how I’m so possessive over you?” you weakly nodded, crying out softly as you tried and failed to kiss him. Your moans are spilling out, preventing you from moving your lips against his and the way you wanted. “Awe, Kitten~ you can’t even talk because you’re feeling so good.” another nod. “Haah~ such a good girl for me just lay back and feel good while I use your pussy okay?”

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the powerful thrusts that came next. Sukuna grabbed your hips, holding them down as he fucked into you like you were a flashlight. The car rocked with each slam of his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin was almost as loud as the growls and moans that sounded from you both. Sweat coated your low, lower body as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your boyfriend could feel it, too. Feel the way your nails dug into his forearms, how you’re pretty legs trembled with your building orgasm. He watched you slowly coming undone, and that sight only pressed him to go further.

All of his control vanished as he fucked into you like he hated you. “K-Kuna!” You screamed, eyes watering as he reached up, choking your eyes, shutting tight. “G-Gonna—oh fuck I-I’m gonna!” Sukuna's thumb found your clit rubbing it, giving you that final push you were needing.

“Then fucking cum Kitten~”

You came hard and fast. The pleasure hitting you in the most wonderful way. Sukuna watched from above, grunting at the feeling of you squirting all over his cock. That sensation had him lurching forward as his own orgasm hit him. His cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as he came. Your mouth fell at the feeling of his cum filling you. It was so warm, and you hummed happily, giggling as Sukuna fell on top of you, peppering your face with kisses.

“Uuugh.”

“Uugh?” You laughed breathlessly, your fingers tracing over the tattoos that were etched into his face. “That’s a first.”

“Y-Yeah fuck whatever, we need to hurry.” He whispered affectionately against your kiss-swollen lips. “G-Gonna be hard again. We need to get home.”

“Oh? Really what-aahnn—” Your question was lost with a moan as Sukuna grabbed your earlobe, tugging it roughly, teasing your weak spot. “Fuck!”

“I plan on taking you home and fucking until both of us pass out or whenever my dick stops working.” you know damn well he meant every single word. “You wanted to take such good care of me this morning. You still can. But I don’t need you to make me tea. I need to fuck you in every way I can.” You moaned, squirming in anticipation of what was to come when you got home. “But before we get home and start our fuck-fest, I need you to do something for me when we get home.”

“What do you need, Ku-nnngh!” his lips sealed around your ear, gently sucking and kissing on it.“Holy fuckin’ fuck!”

“I need you to order us some more of this honey~” he didn’t need to tell you twice. You proudly subscribe to the monthly subscription box. Because having him lose all of his composure was something you definitely wanted to experience again and again.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks

[goldsbitch]

Not on the menu

Making out in public is not something to be shameful, right?

light smut, minors DNI, angst

note: this is my first Franco fic. this man came, served and what are we suppose to do?!

When it feels this good, it's worth breaking few rules.

You and Franco. Very well protected love affair. A fling. Just two young people who somehow end up in each other's beds whenever the opportunity arises.

Working in F2 as one of the production assistants was more exciting than one might think. Everyone would always praise F1, the size of the teams, the budgets, the glam surrounding it. F2 was different, more loose and less on the spotlight. Full of professionals, who just like drivers, worked their asses off just for a chance to progress into F1. But you were just so young, just starting and unlike with the drivers, you had no rush, plenty of time for that in the next years. It was all about learning, getting to know people and also, occasionally, having some good fun. It's hard to keep young people on a leash. Lot of travel involved, hotel rooms and many people mingling around, leads to just one thing. It wasn't special or albeit scandalous to fool around with a fellow crew member, in fact many marriages started like that, no matter the rank or department. Life on the road has its habits.

So when you first ended up on a dance floor with the ever-so-charming Franco at one of the opening events for F2, it was not such a surprise that you ended at his hotel room. Way less wondering eyes and almost no glam was at these evenings, the exact opposite of F1.

By some miracle, you managed to keep it a secret, apart from few closest friends, who served as an excuse for you two to actually hang out together. These few trusted souls witnessed their fair share of tipsy make outs and laughed collectively at your hickeys, which turned out to be his speciality. You never texted, never addressed your fling when sober. Deep down you knew you were curious to see how he was as a serious partner. But he never gave off that kind of a vibe. So you protected yourself, remained cool and decided that this was the peak your relation would ever be, and that was ok enough.

"So what about you and Franco?" a friend of you both asked you, once again. You hated when she did that. In her mind, it would be a great idea to have two of her friends together. But the truth was, she was way closer with him than you were. Nothing wrong with that, but it only reminded you of how shallow your interaction were. In order to keep you dignity while fooling around with a player, you pretended to be one as well. "You know how these things are, it's just physical. I don't think he's the kind of person I'd like to date." False. You knew that, but..! You stayed on the ground, he was just a bit out of your league. Simple as that. Soon enough he was gonna catch the eye of some model and you'll be old news. The whole thing would be way worse if anyone knew that you would actually be open to at least try and date him. It was hard to stop the daydreaming sometimes. "Yeah, that makes sense," was the only thing your friend, disappointed by your response, answered. You only wondered if she had conversations like this with him as well about you.

Life was good that one evening in August. At the time, you had no idea it will the last evening of that era. It was one of the typical dinners the wealthier members of the teams organized, a nice chill place to wind down after stressful days. You were sat few places from Franco, who was charming as ever. Raining smiles on everyone and stealing glances with you.

A text notification - Bathroom?

You gulped, locked eyes with him and gave a small nod. His smile was probably crafted specifically for you, somewhere in the depths of hell. Impossible to resist.

He got up and you followed a minute later, giving a knowing look to your mutual friend. She understood and happily covered for you in case someone else caught on.

It wasn't exactly the right thing to do, lock yourself in a room dedicated for nursing mothers. But better than blocking a bathroom.

"Aren't you a little old to be in this room?" you asked when you joined him and secured the door behind you. He was leaning over a counter, fingers tapping on the top. "I can't help it, I am hungry," Franco responded and gestured you to come closer to him. With a challenging look, you took few steps towards him. "This is a restaurant, you're at the right place."

"The things I want are not on the menu." He was done playing sneaking around and crashed his lips onto yours, as if to prove his hunger. He was just too good with his tongue. Taking you, like his little victim, making you forget the outside world still existed. His hand went to grab your neck, behind your ear, because by then he had figured out that keeping you in check was the thing that made your knees weak. His lips were locked with yours, in heated frenzy, not allowing any breath to be wasted. You knew how to play the game as well, and with a soft bite into his lower lip, drawing a gasp from him, you pulled away slightly, not allowing him to take full control. "Oh," he said, trying to steal another kiss from you while you pulled away more with satisfied smile. "Is this how it is now?" he continued, tone laced with intrigue and challenge. Your tongue reached to lick his lips once again. His hand suddenly lessened the pull towards him. "Oh, hermosa," he whispered, "two can play this game." Butterflies occupied your stomach. He stepped back and to your questioning look responded with another bloody wink. And then, then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up in the air and sat on the counter. You gasped, only amusing him more. Lost for words, you only raised your eyebrows. "Better," he said and with audacity only young boys have lifted your shift up. Without much of a thought you put your arms up and helped him get you slightly more naked. His eyes were shamelessly focus on your chest. "Almost there," he said and gestured towards your bra. "Go on. Take this horrible thing off." You chuckled, because as charming and suave he was, taking a bra off was a moment where he failed each time. Desire fueled you into making this quick. Now that you were sat, his eyes were at a similar lever to your boobs and there was something hot about his hungry look, watching you undress even more. Once you were finally fully bare, he observed you and the locked eyes with you once again.

"Pretty," was the only thing that he said before putting his lips on your left nipple for a gentle peck and then on the right one, which received a light bite. He decided to stay focused on that one, few kisses here and there and began to suck on it while his hand pinched the left one. Arrows of pleasure flew into your lower belly. He knew your weakness, he must have because this was sending you into other dimensions. Anything that feels this ecstatic would make anyone crumble. Whatever he did seemed to always work on you. He wasted no time with gentle touches. Not enough time for that. After nearly sending you over the edge with his lips dancing around and sucking on your nipple, moved a bit upwards and went for his signature move - marking your breasts with hickeys so purple it would take a week to heal. You bend your head backwards, trying to contain any loud noises your body wanted you to make in reaction to his actions. Another twirl around your sensitive nipple, bite into your skin and a hard squeeze. You did not want him to stop, too deep in it to think straight. But that must have been his plan from the beginning, because he put you on edge and then back away. You almost let a soft "No..." escape your mouth. With a puzzled look you slowly came down and remembered you were still in public. Heavy breaths and you gulped your way back to normal. He stepped back a bit and observed his mark on you. With an approving nod, he had the audacity to fix his boner up so that it was not so obvious. "Looking forward to seeing you later?" he asked with a tone that indicated the answer was obvious. You just nodded and reached for your bra, hoping his hickey was low enough it would not be visible. But, he had never made that kind of a mistake. You hopped down and gave him one more kiss, a slow and gentle this time, before he parted back to the dinner table. You joined in a minute, after fixing yourself up and trying to make your cheeks less red. Thankfully, there was only one another amused person when you came back to the table. Your friend raised her brows at you and drank her wine as if nothing ever happened.

Everything shower, hair on point, favorite perfume - you were all set and ready for how the evening would inevitably progress. This time you even made sure to clean your room. You got too comfortable with your expectations. Watching his every move, you noticed immediately when his expression changed from a casual smile to focused frown when reading a text on his phone. Was it something serious? Would he confide in later, sometimes it happened by accident. Secrets shared among tangled sheets. He got up and sent you a cheeky wink. You had to bite your cheek in order to stop the smile your body wanted to respond with, a small bruise burning inside your bra.

It took you fifteen minutes to realize he was not coming back from his phone call. You had his number, you could easily text him. But you didn't. And just like that, he was off to F1.

[zhongrin]

To the kinich post

why can we kill baby monsters and not cats. Or dogs. Can we kill the foxes on Inazuma? The seals yes.

Hoyo is weirdly specific with that is a monsterlife lesser then a stereotype pet?

Or do cats symbolise something else in the game because of Venti being allergic?? (He is a fucking WHISP not even human he is just copying an appearence how the fuck does he have an allergy??? HE CONTROLS THE WIND HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS EVEN-)

We are the monsters here.

Have u seen the hilichurl just chilling around. The slimes playing? The evolved hilichurl watching the world? They use instruments. Slimes to fly. They know how to use instruments. Pyro slimes for explosion. Dendro to create shields (how the fuck i want that too) anemo to transport and fly.

They have a fucking language. Most are former people. We are just to ignorant and fearful to realize we've been killing sentient people who laugh and have fun and have their own traditions and-

*falls over and gets carried away by an exasperated husband* "...I know I shouldn't have given you a sight to the over darkness."

ok nvm i lied i didn't (can't) sleep bc of all the noises outside (yay /s) so here goesー

hskdjskdj no idea i mean game-design wise it makes sense sure, but lore wise??? idk why we're attacking these natlan ppl and their saurians, they look normal and are mostly just chilling in nature... why are we beating them up? lore wise? i don't think there's an explanation for it?? maybe they 'got too excited' like what the daily quests says and we're just calming them down?? lmao

and again if we approach it lore wise, it doesn't make sense for the traveler to continue killing the hilichurls either?? at this point they know what the hilichurls are. so yeah, it's all for the sake of gameplay orz

........

hnmmm. here's an idea...

cw. not proofread, word vomit, violence/light gore

you get isekai'd into teyvat. you're worshipped as the creator and all that pizzazz; we all know how it goes so i'm not going to explain further.

now imagine, one day you decide to stroll through the lands, accompanied by a few select people; perhaps the 'main team' you always use for exploration in-game. a few ways away, you see a camp of hilichurls. obviously you know what they actually are, and you got curious if you could do something for them, right? i mean, being the creator, an all powerful entity, you might even be able to reverse their curse? who knows? better try it out!

so you step closer to try and communicate with them.

but to your utter surprise, instead of doing so, you find your body moving on its own, hand raised to grab the nearest character's weapon, before swinging with the full intention to kill.

thud.

the blade decapitates the poor creature's head.

as it rolls on the ground and you stare at the gruesome sight in both horror and denial, bile rising from the back of your throat, your acolytes follow your example and proceeds to eradicate the entire camp.

your will is their command, after all.

you can't even scream. you can't find your voice. nit because of fear or sadness or frustrationー you just can't.

once they finish, they return to you, expecting praise and adoration, only to be greeted by tears and muffled sobs. they don't understand why you were crying; even before your descent to teyvat, haven't you been commanding them to do the same thing, countless times? they try to offer you the remnants of the hilichurls' bloodied masks and divine scrolls ー you've always liked receiving those! why are you crying harder? what did they do wrong?

you look like you were trying to say something, but they find the words leaving your mouth is of a language they have never heard before.

you thought you could find a home in the world you loved so much.

but you just feel..... lost.

[spoiler/explanation below]

eventually, you realize you were no 'creator' of this world at all.

you were just a string marionette of celestia's.

'the creator' had always been an illusion; an existence They created to pull the blanket over everyone's eyes. your existence's sole purpose is to control the archons, the dragon sovereigns, and the people of teyvat. like an ignorant shepherd leading the sheeps straight to the maw of the wolves.

you weren't some all knowing creator.

you weren't even a monster.

you were never yourself at all.

[kalicox]

let's TALK about Five and Lila because it's a MUST. [S4 SPOILERS] this is long

like, you guys don't understand how MUCH I hate that they fell in love.

at the beginning of the season, they got closer bc of the guardians, and I loved to see both of them interacting together. Lila is so bright and eccentric, and seeing such a character interact with Five and get along well was refreshing and nice! I loved their dynamic, and throughout the entirety of it, I thought that it was gonna be a sister/mother type of thing. This idea grows especially after the scene where Lila cleans Five's lips at the cafe as if she were a mother taking care of her messy child (this makes so much sense now, that Lila has 3 children, so her motherly behavior would be more than justified). Then episode 5 started, trapped for 6(7) years while looking for a way back home.

I LOVED seeing them interact there, too, because Lila laughed even when things looked terrible, and I know having her there helped Five a lot to deal with the stress. I loved seeing them take care of each other-- surely the scene of Lila helping Five shave seemed a little strange. Why is the camera placed like that? why are their faces so close to the other? Oh, I'm sure it must be nothing

...

WHYYY WHY DID THEY HAVE TO KISS?? GOD, I WAS SO GLAD WHEN LILA PUSHED HIM AWAY AND SAID NO, THEY HAD A CHANCE TO SAVE IT, BUT NO.

AND WHY ON THE LAST EPISODE, WE HAVE FIVE FIGHTING DIEGO AND THROWING HIM DOWN THE STAIRS BC OF LILA? THAT'S YOUR BROTHER, THE ONE YOU KILLED PEOPLE FOR, THE ONE YOU DID THE IMPOSSIBLE FOR TO SAVE FROM APOCALYPSES-- MULTIPLE TIMES!! SURELY HE WAS ANGRY, BUT HE PULLED THAT CLOWN SHOW LITERALLY IN FRONT OF AKIRA™ INSTEAD OF HELPING HIS FAMILY??? AND WHY DID HE ONLY TELEPORT LILA UPSTAIRS TO SAFETY AND NOT THE REST OF HIS FAMILY???

FIVE??????

[cloneslugs]

rewatching vbros with me and emil's obsessive & insane titled "autism doc" that we fill out & write out at length after each episode . i am calmed by the fact that i like the early seasons (so far. we are only finishing up s2 rn) so so so much, and ik i like so many eps in s3, i am curious to see if i still hate the narrative tank in s4 & to see how much i dont like the narrative direction of the NY seasons . but i will always have the first few seasons to remember so fondly

[mrfoox]

God im... Probably too nice but it's fine

[nomairuins]

the world if sims 4 had more lots per world

[venmondiese]

LITTLE BOX FULL OF SURPRISES

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

based on this request⭑.ᐟ

-ˋˏsummary: The maimed one-eyed prince marries the most beautiful woman on earth. She is dutiful, beautiful and perfect, but Aemond can't stand when someone, specially his uncle, look with desire at what it is his. ✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original Female Character ✧word count: 3.1k ✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, spitting on the mouth, degradation kink, possesive Aemond, Aemond is WHIPPED by his wife.

Every time his grandsire and his mother spoke of a Lady of great beauty coming to King’s landing, he rolled his eye. 

Even when they present a small portrait, small to fit his palm, he does not seem impressed. Perhaps it is too small, perhaps it is too pretentious. Either the painter exaggerated your features or he couldn’t properly paint a small portrait. But he was curious, after all. Named the most beautiful woman on earth, blessed by the Gods. 

He doesn’t doubt that Lady Tully was beautiful. Perhaps she was truly a beautiful woman, with her long red hair, ‘like fire’ said the letter. But being called The Maiden on Earth seems exaggerated to him.

His grandsire had told them about the implications of his betrothal, about how important it was to have secured the Riverlands, since Grover Tully was an old lord, and will not understand reason. To have his most beloved granddaughter as a princess, was the only way to win his approval, and support. 

Aemond finally meets her on the little garden near the Weirwood tree. They had been serving little cakes, as some lords and ladies talked nearby, not even half of court was here, and he liked the quietness. That made him less self-conscious.

She was near the table, her hand hovering above all the treats she could get, smiling as she watches them with interest. She is expressive, he realises. He hasn’t seen her face, only her back and the day her hand moves and her head is tilted, curious about the southern gastronomy.

 “My lady” Aemond says softly. 

She turns so gracefully, and she is surprised to see him. Her hand still extended, and she quickly moves it to grab her skirts, and do a courtesy to him. She has a sweet smile, and she speaks. 

 “My prince” she says, a bit surprised. “I… I didn’t expect you.”

“I must admit I came a bit earlier than agreed…” he murmurs, looking behind him and then back to her.

The most beautiful maiden on earth fell short to her. She was… something else, in the best way possible. She had that curiosity, that life in her eyes, as she smiles at him, her lips are perfect, and he could see that her maids probably used those Myrish lip taints, for they were a very natural red colour, almost matching with her hair. Her dress was magnificent, wearing the colour of her house, red and blue decorating everything. Even her eyes, blue like the opaque blue rivers in the Riverlands, and her hair, red like flames, matched with her house colours. She wore fish details, her earrings and in her dress pattern. But she was wearing a collar with a seven pointed star in it, and he sighed at her beauty. She was breathtaking.

“Oh, well, so it seems…” she says as she smiles a bit sheepishly, looking at him. “It’s a fine castle, my prince. It does have its own beauty.” 

Aemond has never thought of the red Keep as something beautiful, at all. He always wanted to live in Dragonstone, but his wish was not granted.  But, if she says so, it must be true, and with good reason.

“You think so?” 

She grabs a lemon cake, and eats it carefully as she nods. “Yes! And you also have a Weirwood tree here. When we made our trip here, we passed through Raventree, and their Weirwood was a bit… depressing…” she says, smiling sweetly. “But here it’s very beautiful. More… alive”

As she talks, he watches her closely. Even when his mother, his sickly father and his siblings arrive, when his mother gives him a scolding look for arriving earlier, he sort of watches you in silence, his chest swelling with an air of mystery. 

“You are not what I expected” he admits, quietly between the two of them as their parents talked about the betrothal.

“No?” She asks smiling, licking her finger from the cream of the lemon cakes. “You’ll see I’m a little box full of surprises” 

That’s the beginning.

A ceremony on the Sept, as she stood next to him, reciting vows and the cloak with dragon sigils is on her shoulders, left behind the fish one. Aemond has never looked so smug and proud. The bedding ceremony was… traditional. Having a crowd was awkward for both, surely, but Aemond made it all more comfortable for her, covering her body with his, and not exposing her, at his own expense.

“Just focus on me” He murmurs closely to her face, as she looks at him with wide eyes. He was between her open legs, and he insisted for her to keep her chemise on, while he had no problem in nudity “Your septa and mother could have told you…”

“Not much” She whispers back.

“Not much” he repeats, moving a strand of hair out other face, tenderly watching her face for discomfort. “But I will be gentle, and… we’ll learn together. Yes?”

“Yes. Thank you…, husband” she says, and he feels a prideful pressure on his chest. He was her husband. The most beautiful woman’s husband. 

And she was always thankful for his patience and gentleness towards her, and she stuck to him to all times, even when she was in court, charming everyone around. Her arm was always interlocked with his, and referred to him as ‘her sweet husband’. 

Love came quieter than expected, as they laughed on their bed at nights, having picnics in the gardens or going to the Riverlands in Vhagar together, swimming on Riverrun’s rivers, and just… enjoying each other. It was more than love when they had their first son, a lovely and happy baby, mismatched eyes, with both purple and a deep blue. Aemond adored his son, his little Daerion, and he adored you more.

“Black looks well on you” Aemond comments. 

Daerion’s blabbing was a way to agree with Aemond’s statement as the maid finished putting on her headband, the same tone of her dress. Her orange hair is in braids, two simple ones with some gold details on them, and some dragon earrings that he gifted her. She was gorgeous, and all his. 

“Your wardrobe hasn’t changed” she states looking at him. “Went from velvet black to dark black” 

Aemond walks over to his wife, watching her being just so beautiful like that, sitting, waiting peacefully like a porcelain doll.

“Mhm... As if changing colours would make everything amicable…” Aemond murmurs, taking Daerion in his arms, and he allows him to play with his hair. “Does father know it’s useless? Rhaenyra wearing green won’t change anything, nor will my mother wearing black. HIs voice comes as a grunt as he bounces their baby. 

“It’s foolish when you put it that way” her voice is tender, sweet, and somewhat like velvet. He is still besotted by her, as maidens do with knights. He watches the shape of her breasts on that dress, how the cleavage is so delightful for his eyes and the roundness of her tits that make the fabric around stretch a bit. As if the tailor always got the measurement of her chest wrong on purpose, which he won’t complain about. 

Her bright red hair contrasts with how the black makes her skin look paler, and her eye colour deeper.

“They shouldn’t call you the Maiden herself anymore” Aemond murmurs softly, walking closer to her, still holding Daerion in his arms. “You are like the mother herself. Like the Goddess Syrax of Old Valyria. Beautiful, strong… so alluring…”

“You never seem to run out of compliments” her hands move to grab her rings, and the one he likes the most is the sapphire one, just to symbolise her marriage to him. 

“Never, more so if a goddess like you is my wife. All mine…”

“My prince, my lady.” It’s a Kings guard who interrupts. “Supper is ready, and Queen Alicent asks for you both to arrive earlier…”

“Hm” Aemond says, leaving Daerion in the wet nurse’s arms.

“Thank you, ser Willis” the knight smiles at his wife before walking to wait outside the door.

He rolls his eye as he leans to kiss his son’s forehead, caressing his chubby cheek and he smiles fondly at his sight. The little freckles he has that he inherited from his mother, something that Aemond loved. Yet remembering how unnecessary kind his wife is… annoys him.

Kindness and sweetness only helped to enhance her beauty and popularity, and he also loved that. She was beautiful, perfect in any way, tied to a One-Eyed maimed monster, like him. All he could offer to you, that it was worthy, was the luxuries of the royalty, all the kids you want and his unconditional love. He was at your mercy.

He has one eye, but he is not blind. Any man here on the keep, would pull their breeches down if his wife asked so. They would even cut their own throats for her mere delight, and Aemond would be one of them. 

“Goodbye, my sweet love” the sweet motherly tone makes little Daerion squeal happily, extending his little arms for his mother. She kisses both his hands, later to wave to him as they leave the room, arms interlocked.

Aemond always bites his tongue when his lady wife is kind to men. He hates it, yet he knows she does it for the kindness of her heart, and not any ulterior motives.

He was smitten for her, moving the chair for her to sit, and helping her, her dress not getting stuck anywhere or her headpiece, and only then, he sat on his own seat at peace.

“I heard they might have some goose” she murmurs to him, as the room fills. Her fingers caress his arm, and he hears her every word. “I’d eat it all if I could, you know” she teases.

“Mhm.” Aemond murmurs. Even if he is besotted, his facade is still the same; stoic, cold, distant. Yet to her, his gaze was always loving.

“I would only share it with you” she states proudly, leaning to give him a peck on the lips, before standing up once the King is brought to the room.

As he stands, he doesn’t miss how his uncle watches her. Aemond might not know the man personally, but he knew the look of desire in a man’s face. Much more when they looked at her 

The supper is mostly… tense, and awkward. But Lady Tully is charming to everyone and even toasts as well for Baela and Rhaena in their betrothal, congratulating them and speaking nothing but wonders about her own married life, making Aemond wear the slightest, yet most smug smirk on his face.

“Amazing” she says, with her mouth full as she eats the goose, and Aemond nods, a hand rubbing her back so she doesn’t choke for eating so quickly. “Here, my love” she says, extending the fork with a bit of the goose that she adores so much. 

Aemond eats shamelessly, enjoying the taste as he nods softly, approving, which makes her smile. His hand resting on the back of her chair, as he drank his wine quietly, watching his sister and nephew go to dance together. He is highly unaware of the prying eyes that watch them both.

Helaena and Jacaerys’ giggles and the movement of her dress is enough for lady Tully to watch curiously. Her husband was not one for dances, as he had not a good perception of objects with one eye. She never pressured him, and accepted the fact. 

She always would say how Daerion once he would be tall enough to walk, she’d dance with her son all the songs and dances, and Aemond approved that idea. 

“Lady Tully” It was Daemon Targaryen’s deep voice, and she looks at him a bit surprised, leaving her fork on the table as she covers her mouth, her hand unconsciously fetching wine, which Aemond hands her his. 

“Prince Daemon” her melodic voice is a bit confused, and more so when the uncle of her husband extends his hand. The green fabrics from his suit are deep, yet he still wore dragon details on it, and he looked smug about it.

She turns to watch Aemond, his jaw tensing as he looks at Daemon. And he has to physically stop himself from cutting his uncle’s throat when his wife walks with him to join Helaena and the bastard. Aegon and he share a look, both upset and annoyed, as their wives are so freely dancing with other men. 

Aemond watches her beautiful face, frowning as Daemon talks about something, whispering it closely so no one else hears it. His grip on the edge of his seat is strong; knuckles’ turning white as his jaw is tense, not looking pleased at all. And then, he hears her warm laugh, giggling at what he said, as her whole face brightened up.

Once they serve the pig in front of him and hear the little bastard giggles, it is enough to send him through a fit of rage. 

He literally drags his wife by the arm after everything went downhill, after saying that stupid toast, after the Velaryon’s boys attempt to defend themselves (very badly) and both her husband and her good brother humiliate them.

“Dancing with him” Aemond murmurs, walking to their shared chambers, not minding seeing the servants stop and look at them both. “Accepting it, and giggling to his jokes as he shamelessly flirts with you” 

“It was politeness...” her voice is weak when protesting.

“Did he mocked me for having only one eye?” He asks roughly. “Did he told you how beautiful your are and how full your breasts are?”

She opens her mouth a bit taken aback by his lewds remarks. “I am dutiful to what it’s expected of me. I wouldn't have allowed him to mock you”

“You should…”

“My family’s words are Family. Duty. Honour. And you know I care for that very deeply.” she says as she tries to keep up with his long steps “And I did just what was asked…”

“You are mine” he states, walking inside his chambers as his grip does nothing but become stronger. “My wife and you are… putting yourself in display for my uncle, laughing at his flirting. I know your family words are important for you, but this is… beyond that”

Perhaps it was her confused eyes or her angelic face, but he loosened up his grip yet he kept talking. 

“He wanted you! To have you below him and fuck you like a… wench or… or some kind of…”

“I know” 

Aemond turns drastically, eye twitching at his wife's words.

“You knew?”

“It was being cordial. It was duty. To amend broken ties…”

“I will break and burn and turn into ashes any ties from you to him” he says exasperated, insane with jealousy. His eye is wide, twitching in rage as he cannot believe this. She was his wife. 

Seeing Daemon’s hand grip on her hip, almost groping her, made him insane. Because he knew that Lady Tully, beautiful as the Maiden, a beloved goddess amongst the poor and rich, could do so much better than him. Yet, she still chooses him.

“Get naked” he says simply.

“What?”

“You heard me just right. Get. Naked.” He says again, not wanting a negative. 

Her whine is endearing, as she starts taking off little by little. Her gown, the diminutive buttons at the back, her collar, and her hellish headpiece.

“Let me” he grumbles as he helps her take off the headpiece, tossing it aside more carefully.

She is possibly the most beautiful when she is naked. Round breasts, even fuller thanks to lactating, and her body was tempting enough to anyone. 

“Undress me” he says instead. He took delight when she was the one serving him, in this way. He loved to see her desperation, her eagerness for him. His jerkin is out in no time, and she kneels to undo his breeches.

Because she had an angelic face, but it was only he who knew how obsessed she was with his cock. She could spend hours lying on the bed, sucking his cock as she rested her head on his abdomen as Aemond read. She wouldn’t even suck him off properly, his wife would only suck the tip, give kitten licks, and lazily press some kisses. During hours and hours. 

“I forbid you to speak to any one of them. Ever again” 

Confused eyes turned up to look at him, as the careful hands undid his breeches, almost a bit eagerly. “Forbid?”

“Hm. It’s what I said, is it not?” He says, narrowing his eye as if asking to be defied. 

“But it’s mad” she protests, frowning. “I promised Jace and Baela a tour in the gardens, and it would be impolite if I didn’t spoke-”

“Too bad” his voice cuts the conversation, and he is not leaving it up for conversation. 

“You are being irrational...”

“And you are being a fucking brat” he spats, grabbing her chin as he bites his lower lip. “I’ll show you how irrational I can get”

Her eyes watched him, almost too innocent for her own good. It made him hard; he could feel his cock stirring on his untied breeches. 

“Fucking slut, giving yourself to other men” his tone is harsh, but by the way her knees move, to accommodate the weight as he grips her chin, he knows that she is aroused. So is he.

Lady Tully was beautiful, and a box of surprises with everything, he realised with time. He had everyone trapped under her charms, and kept her secrets very private. And he loved it.

“Whore.”  His hand leaves her chin, only to move it to slap her across the face. 

She gasps, her face turned. It wasn’t harsh, yet the sting was burning on her skin, as she placed a hand on her cheek. To foreign eyes, he just slapped his wife. But he has done it before, to her request. Aemond knew that if his wife was enraged by that, he would have been beaten over and over, because she was kind, but didn’t stand for people dishonouring her. 

Aemond, more gently places his hand back on her chin, pulling it so she can look at him. “You will learn your place” Aemond says, as she looks up at him, with those meek eyes of hers. He loved her eyes. “Open your mouth”

 He leaned down, his mouth opening over hers, so near that she could feel his hot breath. His hand goes to wrap the bright red hair of hers, and his firm grip got her head secured. 

Perhaps Aemond would kiss those perfect lips, yet he pulled back and released a strand of saliva directly into her waiting mouth. Aemond’s fingers tightened the grip in her hair, as his other hand came up to wipe away the excess of spit. 

“There is my good girl” he murmurs, looking at her. “Mhm. I’m going to teach you a lesson” 

Aemond lifts his wife to her feet as if she weighs nothing, his grip on her hair almost dragging her to the bed, forcefully as he heard her little whines. He had a moment or two to decide which position suited best, for then to grab her hips and guide her to be on her hands and knees. He grabs the long red hair once again, angling her head to the side, because Aemond needed to see her face the same way he needed air.

She was soaking wet, and that is a satisfaction for her husband. Aemond accommodated behind her, watching her body as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

 “Such a sweet little cunt” he growls, his eye flashing with lust and desire as he thrusts into her from behind, in one swift motion. 

Her whimpers and pants are loud, as she grips on the sheets as her back is arched. She was desperate to be filled and fucked, not something unusual. The unusual thing was that… nothing happened.

“Aemond” She whines, moving her head to watch him from above her shoulder. She had that desperate, pitiful appearance that he loved.

“Yes, my love?” He asks almost nonchalantly, watching her ass, and how his cock is fully sank inside her 

She can barely think straight as his dick is deep inside her, throbbing in her walls as she just needs him to start fucking her. “Eh… move?”

“I don’t think so” he murmurs, his hand moving to caress her ass to his liking. “You’ll have to fuck yourself on my cock” His wife opens her mouth, confused as her eyebrows frown in hesitation. “Show me how much you need me” he says simply, he was fucking teasing her. “How much you need my cock”

Feeling the thick length of Aemond’s cock inside her, she accommodates on her hands, slowly moving away just to sink down onto his cock again. Her slick walls gripping him tightly as she impales herself on his thick cock. 

“Aemond… Fu-uck, you feel… oh, yes…” She whimpers, and her voice is filled with pleasure as her pussy starts getting pounded as she liked so much. If Lady Tully liked something in life, was probably getting fucked until her mind is mush.  

Her hips start moving on their own accord, as she grips on the sheets, trying to keep a stable posture to move her hips better, as her moans are obscenely loud, trying to get his cock deeper and deeper. Aemond leaves a groan, watching how she sinks down on his cock, and it is an image that would make any man cum in seconds. He truly was the luckiest man ever. 

He feels the fire in his stomach tighten, as her moans grew more and more delighted to the feeling of his cock pounding into her. At first, she had thought of it as promiscuous, and asked the maiden for forgiveness, but gods damn her if it wasn’t the best thing in life to get a good fuck from the love of her life.

“So responsive when getting a cock in your needy pussy” Aemond mutters, as one of his hands raises to spank her ass, the sharp slap only serves for the sounds coming out of her mouth to increase, and he spanks her again, and again, and again, to his own amusement and delight. 

“Please, Aemond…” 

“You just love misbehaving with me, because you know I will put you in your place” he says, moving forward to her body to grip his hair with his right hand, his left goes right next to her hand gripping the sheets to hold his weight. “Because you are a needy whore” he states, gripping her hair as she nods forcefully. 

“Yes” she says, in that whiny tone of hers. He knows her reactions yet every time they aroused him even more. “Yes, please”

The grip on her hair only serves to help him push her back against his cock, his hips now making the effort to start properly pounding into her cunt as she loved; hard, rough and at a deliciously good pace. Her body is practically numb as he starts to use her body for his own pleasure, just as she loved.

Who would have said that the most beautiful woman on earth loved being used by her husband? Definitely not him. She was the most perfect creature, in any way. Smart, funny, pretty, a good wife and mother. And yet she always craved his cock, like the filthiest whores of Flea Bottom. 

“Let those bastards hear you, hm?” He asks, as he leans to speak lowly near her ear. “How it’s your husband who pleases you. Perhaps my uncle will get the notion that you are mine. Only mine. Fucking mine. That fucking dodderer will die by my hand if he ever dares to lay his eyes on you” 

The mere thought infuriates him, making his hips slam into her harder and more feral. Rutting into her cunt in an animalistic pace as he has to clench his jaw in rage. His hand on her hair and the other on her waist, he groans at the feeling of her soaking cunt. 

The sobs he hears as his cock keeps on pounding into her sweet spot, makes him smug enough, and even more aroused. His sweet lady wife, so prone to cry when she had too much pleasure when she got overwhelmed with lust. 

“Please, please…” the round of pleas comes up with her tears, and Aemond moans, shamelessly, as he was so close. “I can’t t-take i-it… anymo-ore” 

“Oh, you will” he says through gritted teeth as he lets go of her hair, only for his other hand to go to her shoulder to help her get his dick deeper. “I will breed you. Cum so deep that my seed takes root, and everyone will know who you belong to.” 

Her nods between sobs, pleas and trembling legs help him pound in feral thrusts into her, feeling her cunt already milking him, inner walls attempting to squeeze his dick inside and never let it go.

“Cum for me, my love” he murmurs, still fucking her deep and nice how she likes it. “My beautiful wife” he murmurs, besotted by her as she cries, her tears rolling down her rosy cheeks with little freckles that he adored. 

The little spasms of her body, her wails and the way her cunt squeezes him, it’s enough to drive him to the edge, holding her body down into his cock as he moans loudly, rolling his eye back in pleasure as he cums hard. She whimpers, whining a bit as his seed just keeps on filling her, his balls tensing up as his grip will probably leave her delicate skin with red marks.

He is caring afterwards, as he cleans her with a towel, or when he places her in bed and covers her, lying by her side each time as she snuggles to him.

“You have to know–” she says softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “You are hot when jealous”

Aemond huffs, grumbling about it a bit as he seems reluctant. It amuses her.

“You always find me hot, I could be… Killing a chicken and you would be leaking”

“Get on my place for a moment, please, just imagine how your muscles would flex” she says dead serious and he rolls his eye amused, as the corners of his lips gives him away.

The fixation on his hair would be a problem if he didn’t love her so much. Aemond allows his lady Tully to braid it as they talk in bed. 

“I didn’t really mean it” he says softly. 

“Hm?” She asks curious, her fingers working on a single small braid on his hair.

“You can talk to them” he says through gritted teeth. “Just-... not too much”

Her little laugh warms his heart. “Very well” she says amused. “For each sentence I say to them, I will suck you”

“I retract myself, talk to them very much, all you like” he says, and it has her giggling. “You know I love you…” he says; as it comes into his view her concentrated face, her tongue coming out of her pink lips as she was focused. He could see the freckles that he so adored, and her pretty eyes. How he loved her.

“You know I love you more…” she says fixing his braid to stick to his hair. Her mouth forms a pleased smile as she sits, as she inspects her work. “Yes. Seems pretty nice”

He could feel the hair strand tight, and he moved his hand to touch his head. “What in the Seven Hells you did to my hair, woman?” 

She looks very pleased as she giggles, her body accommodating against his chest as she shrugs innocently, as he keeps on playfully trying to decipher what his wife did to his hair. 

[xo100]

A summer to remember - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando, Y/N, and their daughter Isla enjoy a perfect summer vacation filled with love, beach fun, and yacht adventures.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2388

୨ৎ

It was a beautiful summer morning, and the sun was already casting its golden glow over the peaceful coastline. The soft sound of waves lapping against the shore could be heard through the open windows of the cozy villa where Lando Norris, his wife, and their one-year-old daughter, Isla, were spending their vacation. It was a much-needed break from Lando's hectic Formula 1 schedule, and he was determined to make the most of every second with his little family.

Inside the villa, the sweet scent of fresh pastries filled the air as Y/N was busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the three of them. Isla was sitting in her highchair, her big, curious eyes watching her mom move around, while her tiny hands held onto a small stuffed bear that she never seemed to let go of. Lando, fresh from a shower, entered the kitchen with a content smile, his heart swelling at the sight of his two favorite girls.

“Morning, love,” he murmured, stepping up behind Y/N and wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck. “You’re up early. Didn’t think we’d need to be up so soon on holiday.”

Y/N smiled, leaning back into him as she flipped a pancake. “Well, someone woke up hungry,” she said, glancing over at Isla, who was babbling happily to her bear. “Besides, it’s too beautiful outside to waste the day.”

Lando hummed in agreement, his chin resting on Y/N's shoulder as he watched her cook. “You’re right. What’s the plan today, then? What amazing adventure are we going on?”

Y/N turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought we could start with a beach day. Just us, some sand, and the ocean. Maybe build a sandcastle with Isla. She’s been dying to get her hands in the sand.”

Lando grinned, his eyes lighting up at the idea. He loved the thought of spending the day on the beach with his family, especially if it meant seeing Isla’s face light up with excitement. “That sounds perfect,” he said, stealing a quick kiss before letting her go. “But I think we should add something extra later. How about a yacht ride this afternoon? I’ve already got one booked for us.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “A yacht? Seriously, Lando?”

“Of course,” he replied with a cocky smile, giving her a playful wink. “Figured we’d sail off into the sunset like in the movies. You know, champagne in hand, wind in our hair… or at least, your hair. Isla and I don’t have much of that,” he teased, running a hand through his slightly damp hair for emphasis.

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re too much sometimes, Norris.”

Lando winked. “And you love it.”

Isla, hearing her dad’s voice, squealed excitedly, her little arms reaching out towards him. Lando’s expression softened instantly as he scooped her up from the highchair and spun her around, her giggles filling the kitchen. “There’s my girl!” he said, holding her close and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “Ready for a fun day with Mum and Dad?”

Isla giggled in response, her tiny hand grabbing onto Lando’s shirt, holding on as if she never wanted to let go. Lando’s heart melted, as it did every time he looked at his daughter. She was the perfect mix of both him and Y/N—her sparkling eyes and infectious laughter were all her mother, while the little dimple in her cheek and the mischievous glint in her eye were pure Lando.

-

After breakfast, the three of them headed down to the beach, which was only a short walk from the villa. The sand was warm beneath their feet, and the ocean stretched out in front of them, glittering under the morning sun. It was the kind of picture-perfect day that made it hard to believe anything else existed beyond this little slice of paradise.

Lando carried Isla on his hip, holding her tiny hand as she stared wide-eyed at the ocean for the first time. Her mouth formed a little "o" of wonder as the gentle breeze tousled her soft hair. “Look at that, Isla,” Lando said, pointing towards the waves. “Isn’t it beautiful? Just like your mum.”

Y/N, who had been spreading out a blanket, glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Lando’s words. “Flatterer,” she teased, though her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. No matter how long they’d been together, Lando always knew how to make her heart skip a beat.

Once everything was set up, Y/N and Lando took turns playing with Isla in the sand, helping her dig little holes and attempting to build a sandcastle that mostly ended up in a pile of mush, thanks to Isla’s enthusiastic hands. Lando pretended to be frustrated as Isla gleefully knocked over the little towers he was trying to make. “Isla, love, I’m trying to build a masterpiece here,” he said in mock seriousness, though his grin gave him away.

Isla just giggled, grabbing another handful of sand and letting it slip through her tiny fingers. Y/N watched them with a smile, her heart swelling with love. There was something so pure and beautiful about the way Lando interacted with their daughter. He was playful, patient, and so incredibly gentle with her, like she was the most precious thing in the world. And to him, she was. Both of them were.

-

After a few hours of playing in the sand and dipping their toes in the water, it was time for Isla’s nap. Y/N and Lando packed up their things and headed back to the villa, where Isla quickly fell asleep in her crib, her little face peaceful and content.

With their daughter sound asleep, Y/N and Lando had a rare moment of quiet together. They sat out on the terrace, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun. Lando stretched out on the lounge chair next to her, his hand lazily tracing circles on her leg. “This is nice,” he murmured, his voice low and relaxed. “Just the two of us for a bit.”

Y/N smiled softly, leaning back in her chair as she gazed out at the ocean. “It is,” she agreed. “It’s nice to just… be. No distractions, no schedules. Just us.”

Lando turned his head to look at her, his eyes filled with that familiar mix of love and admiration that always made her stomach flutter. “You know,” he said quietly, his fingers gently brushing her skin, “I don’t think I tell you enough how much I love you. How much I appreciate everything you do for Isla and me.”

Y/N’s breath caught slightly at the sincerity in his voice. She turned her head to meet his gaze, her heart swelling with emotion. “Lando…”

“No, really,” he insisted, sitting up a little. “I don’t say it enough. You’re incredible, Y/N. The way you love our daughter, the way you take care of us… You make everything feel so effortless, and I just—I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away, smiling softly at him. “I love you too, Lando. More than you know.”

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss that made her forget about everything else. In that moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped up in each other, the world fading away.

-

Later that afternoon, as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Lando, Y/N, and Isla boarded the yacht that Lando had arranged. It was a sleek, beautiful boat, and as they set off into the open water, the breeze ruffling their hair, it felt like something out of a dream.

Isla was fascinated by the gentle rocking of the boat, her little hands gripping the edge of the railing as she watched the water with wide eyes. Lando stood behind her, his hands on either side of hers, keeping her steady while whispering little words of encouragement. “Look at that, baby girl. Isn’t it amazing? Just like flying, huh?”

Y/N watched them from her seat, her heart swelling with affection for the two of them. There was something so undeniably sweet about seeing Lando with Isla. He was a natural father, always knowing how to make her smile, always there to comfort her when she was upset.

As the yacht sailed further out, Lando eventually scooped Isla up and carried her back to Y/N, sitting down next to her and cuddling Isla between them. The three of them sat together, watching the sun slowly sink into the horizon, casting a golden-orange glow over the water.

“This is perfect,” Y/N whispered, resting her head on Lando’s shoulder as she cradled Isla in her arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

Lando smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Me either,” he murmured. “This… this is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Y/N glanced up at him, her heart swelling at the love in his eyes. “You mean that?”

He looked down at her, his expression serious but filled with so much warmth. “I do. You and Isla… you’re my world, Y/N. Everything I do, it’s for you two. And I’ll never stop loving you, not for a second.”

Her breath caught at his words, and she leaned up to kiss him, slow and sweet.

The kiss lingered, sweet and unhurried, the weight of Lando’s words settling between them like the most beautiful promise. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as the world seemed to pause for just a moment. Isla, nestled between them, was quietly playing with Lando’s fingers, completely content in the embrace of her parents.

“I love you, too,” Y/N whispered, her voice full of emotion. “More than I could ever put into words.”

Lando smiled, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. “I know, love,” he murmured. “I feel it every single day.”

They sat there for a long while, the boat gently swaying with the rhythm of the sea, as the last rays of sunlight danced on the horizon. Isla eventually dozed off in Y/N’s arms, her tiny body relaxing completely, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only sound breaking the peaceful silence.

Lando looked down at his daughter, his heart nearly bursting at the sight. He reached out to lightly stroke her hair, his touch so gentle it was almost reverent. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” he said quietly, his voice filled with awe. “How did we get so lucky?”

Y/N smiled down at Isla, her heart swelling with love for the little girl in her arms. “We did get lucky,” she agreed softly. “She’s everything.”

Lando’s gaze shifted from Isla to Y/N, his expression softening even further. “You’re everything to me, you know that, right?”

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I think you’ve told me that about a hundred times today.”

“Well, I mean it. Every time,” he teased, leaning in to kiss her again. “You’re stuck with me, Norris, so I’m gonna remind you as often as I can.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Y/N whispered against his lips before kissing him back.

As the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, the sky fading into a soft twilight, they decided to head back to the villa. Lando took Isla from Y/N’s arms, cradling their sleeping daughter as they made their way back to the dock. The boat ride back was quiet, peaceful, the gentle hum of the engine and the lapping of the water lulling them into a contented silence.

-

When they reached the villa, Lando carefully carried Isla to her room, tucking her into bed with the same care and tenderness he always showed. Y/N stood in the doorway, watching him with a soft smile on her face, her heart full as she took in the sight of Lando, who had once been the carefree, fast-driving boy, now a devoted father and partner.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to Isla’s forehead before pulling the blanket up around her tiny body. He stood for a moment, just watching her sleep, his heart filled with a deep sense of contentment. Finally, he turned to Y/N, slipping his hand into hers as they quietly left the room, closing the door behind them.

Once back in their bedroom, Y/N flopped onto the bed with a happy sigh, stretching her arms above her head. Lando followed, lying down beside her and propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. “So,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “What’s the verdict? Best day ever?”

Y/N turned her head to look at him, her eyes sparkling with love and amusement. “I’d say it’s definitely up there,” she teased. “But tomorrow might just top it.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what do you have planned for tomorrow?”

Y/N shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Lando leaned down, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Whatever it is, as long as I’m with you and Isla, it’s already perfect.”

Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, full of the love and promise they’d built over the years. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N curled into Lando’s side, her head resting on his chest as his arm wrapped around her, holding her close.

“Thank you for today,” Y/N murmured, her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. “It was perfect.”

Lando kissed the top of her head, his fingers gently running through her hair. “You don’t have to thank me, love. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. For you and Isla, I’d do anything.”

With that, they fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves outside their window lulling them to sleep. As Lando drifted off, his heart full and his arms wrapped around the woman he loved, he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

And as the stars twinkled above, casting their soft light over the peaceful villa, one thing was certain: this summer, this moment, would be one they’d cherish forever.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! I’m currently writing part three of baking cookies! I hope to finish it soon and upload it soon!

[k3n-dyll]

☆F.U.C.K

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back

FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.

And yours of course.

Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.

It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.

The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.

"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.

"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.

"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.

"I lied."

Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.

"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.

"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."

In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.

In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.

"Figured it out, pretty girl?"

Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.

"You wanna see it?"

The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.

"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"

You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.

"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"

Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.

She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.

"Abby..."

"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.

"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.

Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.

"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"

The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.

"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"

The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.

Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.

"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.

"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.

Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.

"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.

"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"

The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.

Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.

"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.

"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.

Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.

"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

[chuluoyi]

✎ sick days

- gojo satoru x reader

who holds the fort when you fall sick? of course, it's your lovesick husband and baby!

genre: fluff, fluff, fluffff. basically, your baby is adorable, gojo is your husband and not only is he lovesick with you, he humors your baby so much it’s making me— sighs

note: based on this post! hi hi chu is back from vacation and here’s another dad!gojo fluff indulgence and we stan domestic men okay🤭

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

It's plain sight that Gojo Satoru is a highly attractive individual, and now that he has a son, it's fair to say that he’s the hottest dilf on the block.

With one hand twirling a famous brand of flu medicine box and the other propping his baby son at his hip, he garnered curious eyes, even in drugstore near his home.

“Hmm, why is it so cheap? Suspicious…”

Satoru let out a light hum, studying the orange and pink boxes, as well as glancing at the other purple box with bold labels claiming its effectiveness in halting cold symptoms, and then looked at his son.

His baby's big, crystal blue eyes blinked in wonder at the vibrant colors, and he reached out with grubby hands towards them. “Bwah!”

Suddenly, he got an idea.

“Hey, kiddo. Which do you think is better for mama?” he asked the baby, gesturing at the all three medicine on the rack with his jaw. “You choose.”

As if on cue, the little ball of fluff that was his son immediately reached out for the purple box, the more expensive out of all three displayed before him. Without missing a beat, he also seized both the orange and pink boxes in quick succession, holding them close to his chest.

Satoru broke into a hearty laugh, a wide grin split his face, as he affectionately tousled the boy's head with pride.

“That's my boy! Splurging is allowed—after all, we're rich!”

When the first signs of cold manifested in you, Satoru was already worried. He had warned you to take more rest, but typical you, you brushed it off as a mere fatigue.

And when this morning, you woke up to sudden coughing fits and hot-and-cold spells, which ended up with kicking him out of your shared bedroom in fear of spreading the virus, like the doting husband he was, Satoru promptly headed to the pharmacy with your baby in tow to get you some help.

"Oh my, sir, your son is so adorable!" the female cashier gushed when he got over to pay, finally voicing what other customers thought in their heads. He could sense the discreet glances from those around him even now.

As the baby clung to his shirt, Satoru tightened his grip on him and responded with a self-assured grin, ensuring those nearby heard his words, "Of course he is! My wife is pretty as heck too, shame she's down with fever today."

"Aww! Such high praise, you must adore your wife!"

"Mm-hmm!"

Ah, so he still has a wife. The other customers went about their day, some disappointed that the dilf was still evidently devoted to his wife. They could only wonder just who could the lucky woman was.

Moving on— after the short trip to the drugstore, Satoru went back home. He promptly checked on you in your master bedroom, inquiring, "Hey, how are—"

But he immediately halted upon seeing you nestled so comfortably under the blankets, sleeping soundly. For a moment, he simply stood, blinking and observing your serene slumber.

Strange that something inside him both softened and lurched at the sight. You were just that precious in his eyes. Stupid as it was, he was quite miserable to go through the day without your nagging and nitpicking. And above all, he never liked seeing you in any kind of discomfort—it made his protective instincts soar.

Hence his thought— there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, even if it means sacrificing heaven itself.

“Myah!” A hard shove on his arm and his baby’s babbling snapped him out of his trance. Satoru shifted his baby to his other hand, let out a questioning hum, and affectionately pinched his mochi-like cheeks.

“Hmm? You can’t be hungry, I—oooh,” a sheepish expression of realization appeared on his face, his blue eyes widened slightly as his baby glared at him. Then, chuckling like the goofball he was, Satoru patted him on his head to appease his grudge, “I haven’t fed you since this morning, eh?”

“Fwah!”

“Pfft! There, there… Me is sorry~ Now let me whip something up for you and mama, yeah?”

Now, he wouldn't claim to be the best chef, but he could certainly cook to save himself. Rolling up his sleeve, he went to the kitchen after leaving and stuffing his baby boy with a pacifier on his high chair.

“Hmmm, baby food for the minion and… congee? Yeah, congee should be good.”

Next task was feeding his already seething baby after he mixed together his baby food. He was a fussy eater—mostly with him, but surprisingly not so much with you (apparently, that's just his way of showing who he favors between his parents, heh). But when he managed to get the food in, with every spoonful, his son’s smile gradually widened, and so did his happiness.

Satoru thought then that he was the cutest thing he had ever created. His son was clearly a mini-him, but his reactions were definitely so you.

“Is it tasty? It is, isn’t it?” he cooed with baby voice, earning a delightful giggle in response from his son. Pushing his luck, he added with a suggestive grin, “Papa is the best, isn’t he?”

“Bwah...” The joyful expression on his baby's face faded instantly, dissolving into an unamused pout, prompting Satoru to righteously click his tongue.

“Why are you so against me?!”

After he was done with his fill, Satoru picked your baby up to the master bedroom to bring you something to eat. Seated on the opposite edge of the bed, he silently adored your sleeping form once again.

Right at that moment, the baby in his arms wriggled, reaching out for you. Acting on a sudden impulse, he put him on the bed, facing you.

“Now, go to mama, would you?” he whispered gently, grinning and giving his bum a light pat. “Go!”

Your son was also Gojo Satoru’s son, therefore he was an adept crawler even at barely seven months old. With remarkable agility, the little soldier steadily moved towards you, his diapers jiggling with each motion. He stopped right in front of your face, clearly recognizing you as his mother.

And your husband swore that even his logic-driven heart melted at the sight of your cute baby suddenly leaned in and clumsily smooched your nose.

Simply just the two most treasured loves of his life.

“Mm?” you let out a soft grunt, feeling the dryness in your throat as you cracked your eyes open, surprised to find yourself face-to-face with your baby. “Oh… why are you here? Don’t get too close…”

“He’ll be fine.” Satoru picked your son up, placing him on his knee and steadying him with one arm. Having moved next to you on the bed, he brushed hair from your forehead. “What about you, hmm? Feeling better?”

Your eyebrows creased into a frown. “Yeah, I think, but more than that, Satoru, I’ve told you, don’t let him—”

“Yes, yes, sweetheart. He won’t get sick, look, he’s as healthy as he can be~” and to make a point, he turned his baby over and lightly smacked his bottom, prompting a whimper from the little one and a gasp from you.

“Don’t spank him!”

“Ehh? Then can I spank you instead?”

“Satoru, you’re a little piece of—!”

Just you and him, as well as the little treasure that was your son. This little family was enough reason to live. To win.

And Gojo Satoru once again thought, that being the strongest didn’t really mean that much anymore because with his world in his hands, nothing else matters.

Epilogue

“You’re so silly, why did you buy so many?” you grumbled at the sight of three different brands of cold medicine your husband displayed in front of you. “One is enough, do you want me to overdose?”

Satoru snickered. “Don’t blame me, blame your kid. He’s the one picking all of them.”

You totally didn’t get what he meant at all, but yeah, your husband was the silliest human ever and that’s that.

“Hey, don’t you think it’s a bit smelly here?” Satoru suddenly asked, wearing a quizzical expression.

You took a sniff of the air, glancing at your baby blinking innocently and sitting calmly on your husband, and a realization struck you. “Uh, Satoru...”

Following your gaze, as if sensing an omen, Satoru hastily scooped up his son, letting out a bewildered gasp as he felt a slight wetness where the baby had been sitting on him.

“Did he just poo on me?!”

[luveline]

anything bombshell reader I would adore!!!

Oh my god, Spencer thinks desperately, could she give me a break? 

You waltz into the conference room wearing a smile (your smile, as heartbreakingly perfect as always) and a motorcycle jacket buttoned to the chin. There's something about it. Spencer doesn't know what it is, just that it makes you even more attractive than usual. He toys with the word sexy, and sure, you are when you want to be, but he thinks about it long and hard. You're a fucking bombshell, and you're going to kill him one day. 

“What's with the outfit?” Morgan asks immediately. 

“You can't wear that to the precinct,” Hotch says, though he sounds curious rather than annoyed. 

“You called us in unexpectedly,” you defend, holding up two perfect hands. Calluses from shooting practice line the palm of your dominant hand and you've a cut down the side of the other, and they're still perfect. Everything about you compliments everything else. “I was out.” 

“What, on your motorcycle?” JJ asks. 

“Your motorcycle?” Emily asks. 

“I didn't know you had a motorcycle,” Garcia says.

“You're ganging up on me. Spencer, honey, would you save me?” you ask, though the tone you use doesn't express much urgency as you unzip your thick jacket and toss it aside, its logos and sponsorships crumpling over the back of your chair. “You're the only one who looks pleased to see me.” 

“I am pleased to see you,” he says honestly. 

You don't make it to cases every time; you're on a different type of leasing, you always say. He doesn't have the subtlety to pretend he isn't happy you're here. You flirt with him, sure, and he enjoys it even while being out of his depths, but he likes you. You're fun and smart and good to be around. You listen. 

“They couldn't keep me away from you if they tried,” you say, head dipped gently to one side, smile far from teasing.. 

“Since when do you ride a motorcycle?” Emily asks. 

“If we could get back to the case at hand,” Hotch says, and for a moment everyone looks rightly chastised, until he adds, “we can discuss Y/N's choices afterwards.” 

What's worse than your jacket is the quickness of your brain, the connections you make, your endless suggestions. You're so good at your job it makes Spencer feel funny. Rossi, who'd been mostly silent during the exchange, sends Spencer a pitying look. 

When the case has been introduced and everyone sent to make preparations for another trip, you and Spencer remain in the conference room. You, because your go bag is already here and you don't have much to do, and Spencer, because you're here.

“Do you really have a motorcycle?” 

You tap your nose. “Need to know, babe.” 

“I sort of do need to know. If you have a motorcycle, I should probably be spending more time worrying about you.”

“Well, it's not mine.” 

He feels a crushing wave of rejection descend on him. “Right,” he says. He knew this would happen. He knew you were just being nice—

“I'm borrowing it from a friend. Mostly to see if I still knew how.” You put your chin in your hand, smiling knowingly. “Who's did you think it was, Dr. Reid?” 

“Don't do that,” he says. 

“Or what?” You ease up anyhow. “If you don't like being flirted with, Spence, I won't do it.” 

“I didn't say that, just don't– don't look at me like that.” 

You sigh morosely, but your dramatics are unconvincing, and a smile plays on your painted lips. “Alright, I won't. But it's how you were looking at me, you realise? How's that fair?” 

Spencer is about to say you know how, but do you really? Why is it fair for him to ogle you (albeit without meaning to) when you walk in, but when you make your soft googly eyes at him, he tells you to stop? Maybe because his are real, and yours are… questionable in authenticity. 

You're smart enough to see that debate before it forms. “I have less choice over it all than you think, you know?” you ask, softer than before. 

“I know,” he says. He doesn't, obviously, because the idea that you flirt with him accidentally is hard to accept, because who is Spencer to you? Your nerdy, socially clueless coworker who very clearly has a crush on you. Why would you like that? So he doesn't know about that, but he knows about having little choice in the manner; he sees you and he trips over himself trying to get you to see him. 

“I say it every time, but I've missed you, handsome. How have you been?” you ask. 

Spencer forgets the depth of his crush in the face of a friend. “I'm good, I've been reading all this Russian existentialist literature–” 

“Yeah? Anything good?” 

Spencer beams. “Actually, yeah. There's this one writer, you've probably read him already, Dostoevsky…”

[ellecdc]

Poly moonwater or marauders (up to you! I can see both being cute, though marauders would be interesting since theyre all gryffindors) x a partner who thinks snakes are the cutest, and has a really big python of her own? And she often takes it on “walks” (walking outside while the snake is lounging on her arms to get some sun) or chills in her room with the snake just resting on or beneath her robes (calmer snakes in my experience love to slither up sleeves and wrap around abdomens and collars)? My snake loves doing that, and sometimes it gives people a fright haha. My snake is quite large, but just the cutest and most curious thing, she’s helped many of my friends get over a minor phobia before. She also contracts her muscles (not enough to hurt) when wrapped around a hand, which feels like a little hug. LOL sorry for rambling, I love my sweet baby (5 foot long apex predator) so much. Bonus points if reader is very sweet and smiley, just the last person you’d expect to have a big “scary” snake.

this was such a cute and funny request. and, funnily enough, almost immediately after I received it I started seeing this creator with her snake on TikTok and was like "this is perfect!!!"

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader who apparently has a pet snake that her boyfriends didn't know about

CW: fem!reader, reader has hair she can put up in a bun, best friend Barty being a fucking menace, snakes?

Remus let out a breath of relief when he finally made out your form sitting contently under a tree on the castle grounds with your face shoved in a book.

He couldn’t help but worry about you a little bit; he worried about James and Sirius too, mind you, but something about you struck him as a little too pure, a little too lovely to be navigating this scary world on your own.

He knew you could, he just didn’t think you should have to.

It appeared Sirius and James were just as grateful at locating you when Sirius took off in a run to join your little makeshift picnic.

Remus almost felt bad for the interruption of what was likely a very peaceful sanctuary you had built for yourself. But knowing you, you’d be just as happy to have them join you.

Your smile at Sirius’ form as he made it to your blanket let Remus know he was quite right in his prediction.

“Hi Siri!” You greeted tranquilly, causing James to let out a small breath of awe as he all but dragged Remus the rest of the way over to you. 

“Hey Angel!” James called to you as Remus offered you an apologetic smile turned grimace. 

“Do you mind if we join you?” Remus had the grace to ask.

“Of course not; I’d love it if you did.” You responded quickly, shifting over to make room for them all on your blanket.

“Of course you’d be so gracious; our sweet girl.” Sirius cooed at you, but as he went to pull you towards him by your shoulders, he let out an embarrassing shriek as he launched himself away from you. 

“Godric’s saggy balls, Pads; what is the problem?” James asked bemusedly as he took over Sirius’ now vacated spot beside you.

“She’s got a sodding snake in her hair!” Sirius screeched as he pointed at you.

James’ head whipped back towards you to see that, sure enough, there was a medium sized snake seemingly almost curled up in your messy bun.

“Don’t move, Angel.” James said seriously as he stood carefully and brandished his wand. “I’ll get it off of you.”

“Oh, there’s no need, James. She’s very docile.” You said simply as if you hadn’t just scared the living daylights out of your boyfriends.

“Docile!?” Sirius bellowed at the same time as James questioned “she?” 

Remus smirked at his boyfriends’ theatrics, though felt momentarily ashamed he hadn’t realised you owned a snake, or…had a snake friend.

“Is she your pet, dove?” He asked finally, fighting the urge to grimace as the snake curled further around your bun and moved its head to sit at your temple. 

“Yes; her name is Tinkerbell.”

“Tinkerbell?!” James and Sirius chorused.

Remus chuckled at the boys letting their Pureblood show. “Like the fairy from Peter Pan?”

He was rewarded with a pleased smile as you moved your eyes back towards him. “Exactly.”

“How long have you been living with a snake?” Sirius asked severely, causing Remus to nudge him with his knee warningly.

“Barty got her for me for my birthday.” You responded simply.

“You’ve had that thing for months?” James asked, finally earning a swat from Remus.

“She’s not a thing, Jamie.” You gently chided, offering the snake your finger who wrapped her head around it reminding Remus of a cat rubbing up against their owner's leg. ���I’m surprised you haven’t seen her before; she’s almost always with me.”

Sirius just let out another horrified squawk as Remus fought the urge to let out a full body shiver.

“You carry… Tinkerbell around with you often?” He queried carefully.

You hummed in acknowledgement as your hand fell back to your book. “She usually wraps around my elbow under my robes, but lately she’s enjoyed nesting in my hair. I think maybe now that it’s getting warmer, she likes to sit in the sun.”

“We really need to talk to Junior about gifting our Angel with dangerous animals.” James muttered quietly to Remus and Sirius as your attention turned towards the devil your best friend himself.

“Hi Treasure! Hi Tink!” Barty called you you; his voice raising an octave when greeting your reptilian friend.

Remus winced when he noticed a slightly larger snake hung casually over Juniors shoulders that seemed to be considering the group as they approached.

“Introducing your sweet girl to the boys?” He asked as he sat beside you on the blanket; speaking about your three boyfriends as if they weren’t there.

“Yes. I don’t think it’s gone particularly well, admittedly.” You responded serenely, reaching out to gently boop Barty’s snake’s nose with your finger. 

“It’s going fine.” Sirius argued; never willing to show signs of weakness in front of a Slytherin. 

Unfortunately for Sirius, Barty seemed to call his bluff. “You’re not afraid of a little old snake, are you Black?”

Sirius scoffed derisively. “I go to school with enough of them, don’t I?”

“Okay, why don’t you pet Mr. Smee here then?” Barty taunted, holding out his large reptilian friend to Sirius. “He won’t bite.” He promised with a Cheshire cat smile.

Sirius looked at Barty sceptically before his eyes nervously darted towards you. 

“Mr. Smee is very friendly, Siri.” You encouraged.

Sirius tried to smile at you before he returned his stormy eyes to Barty. “I don’t make it a habit of petting slimy animals, Junior.”

Barty scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “He’s not slimy, Black; he’s scaley.”

Seemingly pacified, Sirius reached out a cautious hand towards Mr. Smee.

Sirius made a garbled heaving sound as he slowly pulled his hand away from the snake's body where strings of slime connected his fingers to the reptile.

“He is slimy!”

“That’s because I soaked him in slime!” Barty cackled. “You’re so easy, Black. Gods, I should spend more time with the lot of you; this was fun.”

And with that, Barty stood from the blanket, kissed Tinkerbell on the head and then pressed one to your head as well before he skipped off.

“He’s a real menace.” James grumbled as Sirius transfigured a piece of paper into a paper towel and wiped at the slime on his fingers.

“I thought that was very brave of you, Sirius.” You praised him, and almost all of the contempt colouring Sirius’ face faded away as he looked at you lovingly.

“Thanks dolly.”

Thankfully, Tinkerbell remained content in your hair, and the boys remained content pretending there wasn’t a snake on their girlfriend’s head for the rest of the afternoon.

[ghostgirl101]

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie

[amoscontorta]

Sylus gets a headache | ao3 | other fics in this 'series'

Summary: Sylus has secured the promise from you that he can use your place as a safe house if he's in the area and needs it. Sylus's definition of "need", it turns out, might be different than your own, as illustrated by the first time he shows up unannounced at your door.

Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, no use of y/n. This story contains: fluff, banter, Sylus has a hard time keeping his hands to himself, legal arguments, bad puns, self-indulgent writing, repetitive finger caressing, insomnia that Sylus is determined to vanquish by any means, Xavier is an innocent victim in all this and has no idea, except has Xavier ever been innocent in his entire life? CWs: insomnia, consumption of alcohol, profanity SFW, mostly. With some filthy innuendos at the end. It's Sylus, after all.

It has been a few days since you had the best night’s rest you can remember on the back of a certain miscreant crime lord’s motorcycle, and you’re once again preparing for a long, torturous night of staring at the ceiling and trying to catalogue all the classes of wanderers in an attempt to lull yourself to sleep—Nero’s suggestion. You have your doubts about whether it will work, but he gave the advice so earnestly after overhearing you talking to Tara about your insomnia that you feel obligated to give it a go. Sylus would probably scoff and say something about ‘people pleasing,’—you shake your head. That man does not get to live rent free in your brain, no matter how suspiciously kind he was the last time you saw him.

The kettle squeals, and you pour the boiling water into your chipped “World’s Greatest Hunter” mug that Caleb had gifted you once you were admitted into the Association’s ranks. The hot liquid steams soothingly into your face as it drowns a chamomile teabag, and you try not to think about the last time you saw him, when he was smiling. Patting your head. Whole, and so, so vibrantly alive. You take a deep, shaky breath.

After a suggestion from Tara, you add some honey and then slice a lime and squeeze the juice into the tea, absently stirring the spoon and gazing out your balcony window. You’re home early for once, and the sun is only just setting. You can’t see it through the high rises around you, but dusk filters down into the streets below your flat. The gentle sounds of the city moving into late evening drift up, the traffic like waves crashing on the shore, laughter and shop bells tinkling, a dog barking somewhere.

Suddenly, your doorbell chimes through your apartment and startles you out of your reverie. Did you forget that you had ordered something to be delivered today?

Without thinking too hard about it, you take your still piping-hot tea and pad to the foyer to answer the door.

Only to have your sense of calm shattered as you fling the mug out of sheer, instinctual self-preservation that Zayne accuses you of not having, when you see who is standing on the other side.

Quicker than your brain can actually process Sylus’s presence outside your flat, scarlet-night tendrils have prevented the mug from shattering on the floor, but have failed to stop the liquid from continuing its projectile path right onto his red, standing collar shirt and black vest.

“The fuck, Sylus?”

“You really, and I mean really, need to work on your greetings, kitten,” he tells you calmly, evol delivering the mug into his waiting hand while he holds the suitcase he has in the other hand away from his body to avoid being dripped on by his now soaked torso.

“Sorry, you were the last person I was expecting.” You wince, heart still threatening to beat its way out of your rib cage.

“Oh, expecting someone, are we?” he lifts a dark silver eyebrow.

“No, but least of all… you.” You flap your hand in his general direction. “What are you even doing here?”

“How about,” he drawls, “you let me in, and I’ll tell you. You wouldn’t want your neighbors to get curious and come to inquire about the mess I’m making on your doorstep, would you?”

You stare at him for a moment longer, trying to think of a way out of having him in your space, again, but you’re tired at the end of another long day, another long week, another long month and this whole entire fucking year. Trying to get rid of him will take more energy than just letting him do what he wants so that he’ll go away again. You run a hand down your face and shuffle aside.

He enters, and the scent of him fills the small foyer, warm and mouth-watering. He sets the briefcase and mug on the floor, removes his dress shoes and places them neatly by your own hastily-kicked-off boots next to the step leading into the rest of your flat. He then picks the mug back up and reads what’s written on it.

“World’s best hunter, indeed.” He snorts softly, eyes flicking from your face to your thin tank top and sleep shorts covered in grinning little bounce, bounce planet blobbus, to your bare feet. “Is this how the world’s greatest hunter always answers the door to unknown visitors?”

“It was a gift,” you say defensively, snatching the mug from him and cradling it to your chest. “And the only people who would be at my door this late is Xavier borrowing a cup of sugar for some doomed baking experiment, or a delivery person. I’m sure they’ve seen much worse than this,” you sweep your hand down your body in a dismissive flourish.

“Oh, I’m sure they’ve seen much worse.” Sylus frowns slightly.

“Yeah, so if they don’t like it, they’re welcome to move on to their next delivery.”

“Or buy their own sugar,” Sylus murmurs, reaching out to run a finger along your knuckles as you clutch the mug. “And who gave you this highly accurate mug?”

You hesitate, knowing that his face is going to do something complicated, like it always does, when you mention your family. But fuck it, he asked. If he doesn’t like the answer, he can also move on to whatever his next nefarious errand is. “Someone who was like a brother to me.”

“Brother, huh,” he says softly, still gently stroking your skin. “Well, he wasn’t wrong in this.” His hand falls back to his side. “Invite me all the way in, kitten. With your words,” he commands.

“And why should I do that? The deal was to let you come in. You’re in now. You don’t need to come in any further. Now it’s your turn to honor the deal. Why are you here?” You glare up at him, your foyer feeling minuscule with his big body and presence filling it.

“You offered me your place if I ever needed it,” Sylus narrows his glittering eyes. “I needed it today before you flung steaming liquid all over my clothes. And now I need it even more.” He looks pointedly down at the still-dripping clothes in question.

“What did you originally need it for?” You stall, the guilt of throwing a mug full—half! Half full! of tea at him starting to creep in.

“How about you invite me all the way into your home, with your words, help me take care of this mess you caused,” he waves a lazy finger at his torso, “and I’ll tell you.”

“But you already promised to tell me why you’re here in exchange for the initial value of me letting you in, and I let you in. I already paid. You can’t make me pay twice for the same goods,” you protest.

“Remind me to take you with me the next time I have contract negotiations. You’re more useful than my own legal counsel.” He pauses, considering you. “Circumstances have changed. Force majeure prevents me from fulfilling my original promise without requiring additional time and means to fulfil that promise. You owe me the opportunity to successfully deliver what I owe you.”

“What, exactly, is preventing you from telling me why you originally came to my home right here in my entryway?”

“The consequences of an unforeseeable natural disaster,” he answers with a little helpless shrug. “Namely, the trauma of nearly getting drowned in tea following almost being taken out by a mug launched with your god-like strength. Kitten, your assault is the equivalent of an act of god, and I can’t be responsible for the fact that I now need a dry shirt and a safe place to recover from the shock of almost being murdered by your tableware.”

You can’t help it. It has been so long since you’ve actually laughed out loud, so the noise that comes out of you doesn’t even sound human. You’re laughing, and you can’t stop. The affronted look on Sylus’s face in response to your ugly-snorts, causes you to laugh even more, and you’re suddenly bending over, holding your knees, laughing like you might die if you stop.

After a long moment, when you are finally able to breathe again, you straighten and find Sylus looking at you with a soft expression, one corner of his wide mouth slightly lifted… which is alarming. But you’re too filled with gratitude for the relief of laughing that his absurd exaggeration just gave you, so you refuse to think about anything at all too hard right now. You give in.

“Sylus, would you do me the honor of coming into my home? You can tell me what the hell you’re doing here after I find you a dry shirt.” You sarcastically bow as low as you can, your arms uplifted to gesture him forward.

“I suppose I can’t refuse such a graciously extended offer,” he says, as if resigned to a terrible fate, but his smile is smug and he wastes no time striding into your living room while unbuttoning his vest. He gently lays it over the back of your couch, and begins unbuttoning his shirt. You force yourself to stop staring as the pale skin slowly being revealed with each flick of his long fingers and head to your bedroom.

You paw through your chest of drawers, trying to find a shirt that will fit his broad shoulders and chest, but all you manage to do is make even more of a mess in your barely organized drawers. You stand, remembering the hoodie Xavier leant you after a recent, particularly messy battle on a chilly night. You move to your closet where you had hung it carefully to remind yourself to give it back to him after having washed it. You pull it from the hanger, turn around, and squeal loud enough to shatter glass.

Sylus is standing right behind you, chest bare, black slacks hung low around his narrow hips, and you did not heard him come in.

“I thought we were past the terror stage of our friendship, sweetheart,” he says, cocking his head, the same ruby stud earrings he was wearing at the club flashing in the light. “But that’s twice today that I’ve frightened you to the point of violence. Am I really that scary?”

“You keep… appearing, out of nowhere. A little warning would be appreciated,” you huff, heart pounding. You don’t know why you’re so nervous around him. Really. It has nothing to do with the broad expanse of creamy skin and pillowy man-tits shoved in your face at the moment. “And honestly, considering the fact that our friendship started with you choking me out and keeping me captive for days, it’s a wonder that I’m not more scared of you,” you flare, because yeah, how dare he act like you should be over the absolute shit-show of your first encounter, when you’ve hardly had any time to get to know him. That’s why you’re nervous. There is no other possible explanation. A couple friendly interactions do not make up for how much of an evil bastard he was when you first met him.

“Would you like me to wear a bell when I’m here, then?” he asks, conveniently ignoring the reminder regarding how he treated you not so long ago.

“How about you just stay out of my bedroom and stay where I can see you at other times,” you snap, feeling violent again at the intrusive thought of Sylus wearing a collar around his thick neck, cute little bell dinging every time he moved.

“I’ll do my best,” he says absently, clearly distracted by his thorough inventory of your bedroom as he takes in the tumbling plants in mismatched pots on floating shelves hanging over the unmade bed, the army of plushies scattered over the bunched up mountain of duvet and pillows. Your bed used to be your sanctuary. The place where you could find rest and relaxation after exhausting battles and long days squinting at the computer filing incident reports. Now it just gives you anxiety. You try to pull his attention away from the chaos of your former safe space by holding Xavier’s hoodie out for Sylus to take.

“Here, this might fit you.”

Sylus looks down at your offering, crosses his arms, and takes a step back, as if the hoodie is so offensive that it warrants recoiling physically from it. “That’s quite a big hoodie for you, even for days when you want to be comfortable,” he says evenly.

“It’s not mine, but it’s clean, and I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing I have right now that will fit you,” you say, shaking it a little in the universal, impatient gesture of just take it already for fuck’s sake.

“And who is its actual owner?”

“Xavier.”

“In the habit of wearing your partner’s clothing, are we?” he asks, still staring at it, the disdain now plain in his assessment of the sweatshirt.

“Uh, sometimes? We were on a mission recently and my jacket got torn to the point of uselessness, and it was cold. He let me wear his hoodie so I wouldn't be cold. It's been washed since then, so it's clean. I’ll just wash it again when you’re done using it before I return it. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

After what seems like a ridiculous amount of time for him to apparently make some mental calculations that only he will ever understand, he finally takes the soft hoodie from you, fingertips brushing yours as he grasps the fabric. You can’t figure out why he he suddenly looks more smugly evil than you’ve ever seen, with his lips curved up in a sardonic smirk. “Oh, of course, I’m sure he will not mind at all.” He pulls the hoodie over his head and shimmies a little as he drags it down is body; it’s a little tight around the shoulders, but you don’t think it’s tight enough to permanently stretch the fabric.

After it’s on, he tugs the collar up to his nose and inhales deeply.

“What are you doing?” you ask, as if you can’t see perfectly well what he is doing.

“It smells like you,” he answers, shameless, as if that is a perfectly reasonable answer to your question.

“Well, I did wear it, and wash it with my normal detergent and it has been hanging in my closet for a while, so…” your voice trails off.

“And soon it will smell like me too,” he continues, letting the collar fall with a satisfied flick of his fingers.

What even is this conversation? “Can you just be normal? For once?" A look of boredom is all the response you get, so you continue. "Now get out of my bedroom. Come tell me why you’re here in the first place.” You stride past him, making your way into the living room.

He follows you obediently and plops down on the couch, and just like last time, spreads his legs wide. This time, he is able to rest his arms on either side along the back of the couch, effectively occupying the whole damn thing. He sits quietly, looking at you expectantly.

You stand, arms folded, a safe distance away from the couch near the kitchen island.

“Well?” You prompt.

“It’s customary to offer your guest a refreshing beverage upon receiving them in your home. I believe I offered you wine the first time I hosted you in my own home.”

“Hosted?” He can’t be serious. “What a generous euphemism for ‘unlawfully imprisoned,’” you bite out.

“Po-tae-to,” he says serenely, “Po-tah-to.”

“Sylus,” you warn—about what, you’re not sure. He wants a beverage? Okay, perhaps you’ll fling more hot tea at him if he doesn’t start talking.

“Kitten.” He continues gazing at you, clearly in no hurry to move things along.

“If you don’t tell me, right now, why the hell you showed up at my place unannounced, I will report you as a burglar and have you removed by the authorities.”

“But then how will you explain to Xavier why I’ve been arrested wearing his sweater?” he asks, eyes wide, all concern for what your partner’s thoughts on the matter would be, and what they would mean for you.

“Burglars have been known to be creeps and go rooting through their victims’ closets and wearing their clothes! I’ll just say you were wearing it when I got here. Maybe he’ll be worried that it’s him you’re actually interested in harassing,” you snicker, trying to picture Xavier’s reaction.

As you’re speaking, Sylus pulls out his phone and fiddles with it with a bored expression on his face.  

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I boring you? Perhaps you should go find something more interesting to do and leave me in peace,” you grind out after you’ve finished and notice his complete lack of attention.

Your irritation is interrupted by a notification on your phone. Since Sylus is so busy messing with his, you grab yours from where it has been lying on the counter since before Sylus interrupted your peaceful evening staring out into the city. You see that you have a new message from… the man currently oozing across the entirety of your couch, head lolled to the side and watching you with a hint of amusement curving his mouth.

You open the chat, and your eyes widen at the conversation that never fucking happened currently loading into your chat history, with time stamps corresponding to when Sylus showed up at your door.

You: Oh Sylus, my big, handsome partner in crime, I think there’s an intruder in my flat and I’m so scared!

The Sytuation: What makes you think theres an intruder in your home, kitten? Im on my way.

You: There is sugar missing from my pantry! I just bought a new bag yesterday, and it’s gone! Oh please, my dark knight, come protect me from the sugar thief who should buy his own sugar and stop coming to my place to pilfer mine!

The Sytuation: Of course, sweetie. Go wait by the door, Ill be there in 5.

“What. Is. This. Fuckery,” you demand, thrusting your phone in his face.

He shrugs. “You threatened to lie about why I’m here in a bid to get rid of me. Did you not expect me to counter your move to ensure that no one will believe you?” he pauses, and then narrows his eyes. "Did you really save me in your phone as 'The Situation,' with a Y?"

"Punny, right? My phone doubles as my work phone. You really think I'm going to save your real name in my contacts? I might as well just save you as 'Sylus Qin, leader of Onychinus, most wanted criminal in the N109 zone," you grumble. "And trust me, that's the nicest name I could come up with."

"Punny," he repeats derisively, unimpressed.

“And don't derail. What is this nonsense about a sugar thief?” You wave the phone again.

“Your colleague should learn to stock his own pantry if he wants to engage in… what did you call them? Doomed baking experiments?”

“How did you even… why does it look so real?” You gaze down at the texts that look so authentic that if they hadn’t been filled with such bullshit, you’d be doubting your own sanity about whether the conversation had really happened.

“You’re really surprised that faking evidence, alibis and dirt on my opponents is a part of my vast skill set? I’m hurt that you underestimate me so.” He looks at you like he’s disappointed, a little pout pulling down his stupid beautiful mouth.

“For fuck’s sake.” You’re done. The longer you resist, the longer Sylus will be in your flat, driving you up the wall. “Fine. Fine!” You set your phone down again and throw up your hands. “What do you want to drink, Sylus?”

“Two fingers of gin, if you have it. Or brandy. Or vodka.” He thinks for a moment. “I’m not feeling too picky tonight.”

“I don’t keep hard liquor in my house, you alcoholic. I have a half-open bottle of rosé in the fridge. Will that satisfy his lordship?” You turn resignedly to trod your way to your fridge.

“What vineyard and vintage?” he asks, perking up.

You open the fridge and pull out the bottle. You squint at the label. “I dunno. It has a cute fish on the label, so I bought it.”

He looks at you like you just murdered Mephisto, and you begin pouring the pink liquid into another mug. This one says UNT on the side in big block letters, matching the size of the handle so that when you hold it, the handle looks like a matching C. You walk back to where he’s sitting, and you think that maybe your smile looks as smug as Sylus’s usually does when you hand him his drink.

He takes the mug from you, snorts when he reads the side, and then look at its contents dubiously for a moment.

“You taste it first,” he finally says, looking back up at you.

“Worried I poisoned it?” You’re still grinning.

“As you say,” he says, tilting his head.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t demand beverages from people you don’t trust then.”

“I trust you, just not your taste in wine after learning you choose bottles based on the cuteness of the label. Indulge me,” he murmurs. “Prove to me that you’re willing to drink it, and that it’s not just swill you’re trying to get rid of by offering it to me.”

You take the mug from him and lift it to your lips, taking a sip, watching him over the rim as you swallow. His nostrils flair, and he lifts his hand in a gesture for you to return it to him. Instead of giving it back, you take one more big gulp, and his brow furrows. Only after you've slowly swallowed again do you comply, relishing the warmth spreading through your body as you lower the mug for him to take. He brushes your fingers again as he takes it back. He turns the mug, so that his mouth hovers where yours just was. He then closes his eyes and inhales, gently swirling the liquid inside. Eyes still closed, he takes a sip.

After a moment, he sighs. “Thank you. This is actually not bad, for a rosé.”

“You’re such a snob,” you smile down at him, irrationally pleased that he seems so pleased.

“Life is too difficult, and too short, to waste on inferior experiences. I only like tasting the best,” he says, bright red eyes opening and fixing on you.

He looks up at you like you should be able to draw some deeper meaning from his words, but you’re tired, warm from the wine, and despite how much he winds you up you were just moments ago, right now you’re strangely relaxed for the first time in days.

“Tell me why you’re here, Sylus,” you say quietly.

“You told me I could use your place when I needed it,” he says, just as softly. He takes another drink, rolls it around in his mouth. Swallows, his adam’s apple dipping.

“And why did you need it this evening?”

“I had some negotiations regarding a business acquisition that I’m considering in this part of Linkon City, and they were abhorrently boring. By the time they were over, I had a splitting headache, and the sunlight didn’t help. It would have been unsafe to operate a motor vehicle under those conditions, so I thought I’d come and wait for it to pass in my newest ‘safe house,’ he answers gravely, as if getting a headache was a perfectly logical reason to crash your evening and take over your couch. “Wouldn’t want to endanger the innocent citizens of Linkon City with reckless driving, now would we?”

“Aren’t all of your shady business deals done under the cover of darkness? Why were you here at a meeting during the day?”

He’s holding the mug in one hand by his fingertips now, along the rim, slowly swirling it. He crosses one long leg over the other and answers languidly. “You’re assuming that today’s business was ‘shady.’”

“So your business today was legitimate?” You’ve been standing for awhile now, and begin to shift from bare foot to bare foot.

He hums in acknowledgement. “My business interests are as varied as they are successful. You insult me by looking so surprised.”

“Well I would never want to insult you,” you drawl. “So that’s it? You got a headache and decided you’d crash my evening?”

He nods, touching his temple and grimacing. “It’s still pretty bad, to be honest.”

“The daylight bothers you that much?” you ask, genuinely curious. You have always assumed that it was the nature of his occupation and perhaps just a proclivity for being a night owl that explained his nocturnal existence, but now you’re wondering if it’s not something deeper that has him avoiding it as much as possible.

You finally decide to give your tired feet a break and perch on the little corner of couch cushion that has been freed for use by Sylus crossing his legs. “If sunlight bothers you that much, what could possibly be so important to come out in it today?”

“Are you really asking about the details of my business ventures, sweetheart?” he asks in what you suspect is feigned astonishment.

“And if I am?”

“Then I’ll tell you,” he responds easily.

“Then I am.”

“I’m in discussions for acquiring a chain of entertainment venues in Linkon City.” He leans his head on the couch’s backrest and lets it roll to the side to keep looking at you. He catches the look of disgust that is no doubt obvious on your face.

“Entertainment venues,” you say flatly.

“Yes. Is there something wrong with that?”

“What kind of … entertainment venues?” you ask, hating yourself for wanting to know. It’s his business if he wants to buy porn shops, or strip clubs, or brothels—your stomach twists, and you refuse to consider why.

“What kind of ideas are racing through that fascinating brain of yours?” he asks, reaching up and running two of his fingers along your temple, brushing your hair away from your eyes.

“Nothing,” you bite out, turning your face away from his touch. You normally dislike how you have a hard time concealing how you’re feeling, but you particularly hate it right now.

“Mmhmm,” he murmurs. “Then, to answer your question, it’s a chain of arcades.”

Your brain grinds to a halt. Did he just say—

“Arcades?”

He nods, and winces, closing his eyes. You’re starting to believe that his head is actually hurting him, and you feel bad for throwing dishware and hot tea at him and refusing to offer him more than the one drink he asked for.

“Why would you be interested in acquiring an arcade chain?”

“Even for odious crime lords, it’s always wise to have a diversified business portfolio.”

You have called him a lot of things both out loud and in your head, but you’d never call him odious. Odorous, perhaps, when he’s sweating heavily after being riddled with bullets. But you have to suppress the urge to chastise him about talking about himself that way.

“Which chain is it?”

“You probably don’t know it,” he says, as if bored with the question. “It’s not a very large chain, but large enough for my interests.”

“Try me! I love going to the arcade when I have some free time. I mean, you’ve seen my plushie collection now that you invited yourself into my house,” you bounce a little on the couch.

“You invited me, kitten. You’ve had a choice, each and every time.”

“Don’t deflect! Answer the question!” You’re quite excited about this. Maybe if it’s a place you know, that has a location nearby, he’ll give you a discount if he ends up buying them? Like an employee discount or something. Is that ethical? You should check the Association’s employee handbook for conflicts of interest.

He squints, as if preparing to evaluate your reaction, and names your favorite place to play the claw machine.

“For real? You’re really going to buy them?”

“I still have to review the contract that was proposed during today’s discussions with my legal counsel, but if negotiations are successful, then yes,” he says, casually examining his nails.

Your excitement is hard to contain, but you suddenly have a troubling thought. “You’re not going to change anything, right? Like, that place is perfect as it is, and the employees are all really friendly and helpful and clearly work hard to keep it really nice,” you rush out, worried that he’s planning to reduce the staff  or try to jack up the prices for a larger profit margin.

He turns to look at you again, and doesn’t answer for long enough that you’re really starting to worry. But then he says softly, “No, I’m not going to change a thing.”

“Oh? So they’re doing well? It’s a solid financial investment?” You’re so relieved, safe in the knowledge that your plushies will continue to be accessible, insofar as claw machines by design allow them to be.

Sylus laughs softly. “Yes, the financials all look good. Considering your interest in the nature of binding agreements, would you like to look over the purchase agreement with me? I have it with me.”

“I’d actually really like to, but I’m starting to get really tired,” you yawn, the relief you were just feeling—the relief of knowing that Sylus wasn’t up to anything that would leave a blood trail today, relief that he didn’t come tonight to try to force you to resonate or finally kill you for refusing to do so, and most importantly, relief that he wasn’t going to acquire and ruin one of the little pleasures in your life—all of it is now drowned out by a heavy feeling of pleasant drowsiness.

“Then I’ll read it to you, until you fall asleep.”

“Huh? You want to stay?”

“Yes,” he says, hauling himself to his feet and offering you his hand. You take it in confusion, and he lifts you to your feet as well. He sets the now empty mug on your coffee table, and then places his hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you from behind to your bedroom.

“Why?” you ask, not even thinking to object.

“Headache, remember?” He pushes you gently by your shoulders so that you’re sitting on your bed.

“How can you review legalese when you’re suffering from a headache?” You sink into the softness of the mattress.

“Why don’t you let me worry about that?” he says, nudging you until you’ve scooted to the middle of the bed. “Don’t move. I’m going to get my tablet out of my briefcase.” He disappears through the doorway, and you’re left sitting on your bed, surrounded by all of your plushies, and you have no idea what’s happening. You’re just too tired to argue with him. You really did miscalculate by spending all of your energy trying to get rid of him when he first arrived.

But just because you’re bone-tired, doesn’t mean you’re going to let him boss you around. You get off the bed and pad into the kitchen, passing him as he snaps his briefcase shut, tablet in hand.

“I distinctly recall telling you not to move,” he gripes, pushing up an elegant set of gold framed glasses perched on the uneven bridge of his nose with a middle finger. Huh, you didn’t know he needed glasses to read. He looks almost … cute wearing them, a little less feral. Like a leopard wearing a monocle.

Suppressing the thought of Sylus and cute in the same sentence, you ignore him, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. Then you rummage through your most chaotic kitchen drawer for a few moments, before triumphantly pulling out what you were looking for.

You pad back over to where he’s still watching you, and offer him the glass and the half-used blister pack of over-the-counter painkillers you fished out of your chaos drawer. “Here.”

He looks down at your hands, offering him what you hope is some relief from his headache. His face is impassive, and you’re worried he assumes you’re trying to poison him again. But then he tucks the tablet under one arm, and reaches out with both hands to grasp the glass and the pill pack—except he doesn’t take them from your hands. He envelops yours with his, and pulls you gently closer to him. He somehow manages to pop two tablets out of the pack with his thumb, and they drop into your curved palm. Still holding your hand, he leans down to sweep them from your skin with his tongue. In a complete daze, you watch him lift the glass that you’re still holding to his lips, and he takes a long pull of water, washing the pills down, all the while holding your gaze with his. When he’s done, he slowly lowers your hands again.

“Thank you,” he murmurs “For the benevolence of your heart.” He says it gravely, as if you’ve just saved his life instead of giving him some headache medicine.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper, feeling like you’ve been struck by a truck after… whatever that was, feeling the warmth of his tongue in the palm of your hand like he was still licking it. Sylus then turns and heads back to your bedroom.

You set the glass and the now-empty pill pack on the kitchen island, thinking you’ll clean up tomorrow if you manage to sleep tonight, and follow him.

In the bedroom, Sylus sits, leaning back against your headboard, having needed to gently scoop some plushies out of the way to make room. He stretches his legs out in front of him with a sigh. He looks so soft, wrapped in the white hoodie, silver hair rumpled, surrounded by pillows and cute little plushies.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to remember that the man currently sinking into your duvet and wiggling his sock-covered toes in contentment is the same man who straight up exploded the man who dared kidnap you, and then proceeded to kidnap you himself after choking you to the point of passing out. You try to hold both of these truths about him in your mind at the same time, but the image of Sylus dancing you gently through a press of bodies, of the way he caresses your fingers at every opportunity, the soft slide of his tongue along your palm—these images are conquering every other version of him that you know to be true in your mind. You wonder briefly if this is part of some larger scheme of his, and what his endgame could possibly be. But right now, you’re too fucking tired to care.

“What is even happening,” you ask. You’re exhausted, but you still have enough mental reserves to question how you got here, in this situation, with this man migrating from vanquishing your couch to a large part of your bed. “Is the coffee table, or kitchen table insufficient for your needs? Why are you going to review the paperwork here, on my bed?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how quickly you fell asleep on my back on the motorcycle the other night, sweetheart. I’m just reading you a bedtime story featuring limitations of liability and allocation of risk so that you can finally get some sleep again.” He pats his thigh. “Here.”

You just stare at him. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he warns, tapping his thigh again with one long finger. Just for that, you glare mutinously at him and fold your arms over your chest.

He sighs again, this time in exasperation, and leans over, firmly lifting you and setting you down so that your head is pillowed against his meaty thigh. He begins to run his fingertips gently up and down the middle of your back. He returns his attention to his tablet. “Now listen carefully,” he commands, before flicking the screen with his thumb and beginning to read in his softly in his deep, rich voice.

But of course you don't. You fall asleep as the skyscrapers light up like a dragon's hoard of jewels in the night sky outside your window, to the sounds of Sylus’s quiet recitation of indeed, a terribly boring contract, and the whisper of his fingers along your skin.

When you wake up, there is another black feather on your pillow, and you are alone. You yawn, once again feeling unbelievably rested despite the chaos Sylus always brings to your door and into your life. You stretch leisurely, spreading your arms wide and turning your head on the pillow, when something catches in your earlobe. You reach up and run your fingers along a stud earring that was not there when you fell asleep. You feel your other earlobe, but it's empty. You grab your phone from the nightstand, knocking over a semiautomatic hand pistol with scarlet flames engraved along the grip that you also don't remember owning onto the floor. You stare at it briefly, ready to commit murder if you check it and find that the safety isn't on. But first things first: you put the phone camera in selfie mode and lift it to your face, but quickly lower it again after confirming that it is indeed a ruby stud in your ear, sparkling cheekily in the morning sunlight.

Later, you're relieved to find that Sylus did actually leave the safety on on your new little ... toy, and you'll find that the mugs have been washed and set neatly away, the empty pack of painkillers placed in the recycling bin. You also see that various takeout containers and other debris that had piled up on a lot of surfaces in your place are also gone, and the countertops are clean, the coffee and kitchen table gleam in the early morning sunlight. You don't notice that the white hoodie is nowhere to be found, until you meet up with Xavier later in the day. He's wearing one that looks exactly like it.

"Thanks for returning the hoodie," he yawns. "But you really didn't have to."

You pause, feeling a thread of panic start to wind its way through your stomach. You decide to just... go with it. "Oh? You found it okay?"

"Yeah, but why did you just leave it hanging from my door handle? You could have rung and come in. I had a new limited edition bag of those cookies you were looking at in the corner store last week. I would have shared some with you... but now I've eaten them all," he admits sheepishly, big blue eyes shimmering with guilt.

You try to think fast. Did Sylus give back the hoodie without washing it? What the fuck was he thinking? He could have been seen! Does this flat have surveillance footage? Does Xavier suspect anything? You realize that you still haven't answered Xavier's question as your panic spirals. "Oh, you know, didn't want to wake you up," you flap your hands, as if you can flap this entire situation right out of your messy life.

"Well, I don't know what you did to it, but it feels brand new. As if it's never even been washed. And you somehow got out the bbq sauce stain that no matter how much I sprayed it with that stain remover stuff would never come out. So you're going to have to teach me some of that laundry magic," he says contentedly, snuggling further into the entirely new hoodie that you now realize Sylus must have somehow, over the course of the night, had hand-delivered to Xavier's place. "Uh huh," you say absently, pulling out your phone to furiously text Mr. Asshat when you see that he has also changed his name in your contact list.

You: What the hell did you do with Xavier's hoodie?"

My Sy: It doesnt matter who it belonged to before me. All that matters is that its mine now.

You: It doesn't even fit you properly! You're too big for it!

My Sy: Nothing a little size training cant fix.

Your jaw drops. He cannot be implying what you think he's implying. This is your filthy mind at work. You decide that you will simply pretend this conversation never happened. Absolutely nothing good can come from trying to figure out what the fuck is going through Sylus's head at any given moment.

You: And 'My Sy?' Really?

My Sy: Its not punny, but it rhymes. And its accurate. Gotta put the phone down for a bit, kitten. Business requires my attention. Ill be seeing you soon.

You stare at his last message for long enough that Xavier asks if you're okay. You're not. You're not okay. You couldn't even bring yourself to ask him about the other earring, or the gun. You just slowly slip your phone back into your cargo pants pocket and try very hard to stop thinking, for the rest of the day.

[fangswbenefits]

Double-edged Sword

Summary: Miguel knows he has to let you go before you can be his. But it’s not that simple. Especially when you keep on testing his limits…

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 2.2k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Soft/inexperienced reader. F*ngering.

Part 1 (if you're just starting out) - Previous part

By the time Miguel rose from his slumber, he was met with a pair of curious eyes glaring at him.

"You snore."

A sleepy yawn worked its way out of his throat as he lifted his wrist to assess the time. It was still fairly early in the morning, and he allowed himself to relax against your soft pillows.

You were on your side, both hands tucked under your head, and your trademark sweet smile curling your lips.

"Did you sleep well?"

Miguel nodded, mustering the will to sit up against the bed rest. He soon realised he had fallen asleep on top of the comforter with just a blanket covering him, whereas you were nicely tucked inside your bedsheets.

A distinct barrier between you two.

He looked down at you through sleepy eyes, wishing he could plant a soft kiss to your temple.

You looked so peaceful and it brought a sense of calmness to him as well.

"I was thinking of meeting Tom today.." you began, as you flopped onto your back. "Think you can get someone to cover for me? Just for a while?"

And just like that, Miguel's stomach turned uncomfortably. "Today? Already?"

Your head turned to him. "Why? Do you think I should wait? Do we have something important today?"

"Maybe you should wait a little longer," he said with a sigh. "Take some time to figure out the best approach."

"I've been waiting for months... I just... I really need this," you whispered, now facing away from him.

In reality, Miguel knew there wasn't much he could say to deter you from this. He couldn't really blame you from wanting to set things right with someone who meant so much to you.

He would have given everything to be able to get that opportunity with Gabriella.

However, the less rational side of him was seething with jealousy. After all, you had revealed you had feelings for him.

But what truly fueled his escalating jealousy was what had happened last night. The kiss, him touching himself in front of you, and you touching yourself in front of him. Intimacy had engulfed you both so unexpectedly, that he wondered if it had been a mistake.

He dreaded that thought, so he promptly pushed it away.

"Sure. Take your time."

You then shifted to sit next to him, your shirt briefly clinging to your breasts, letting him know you were braless.

Of course.

He groaned inwardly at the sight of the small protuberances on each nipple.

And you caught him staring, arching a brow in amusement. "Want to see them again?"

He cleared his throat and shook his head. The last thing he needed now was a raging boner.

But it seemed that you were hellbent on torturing him, so when you got on your knees, briefly crawling to him, and finally settling on his lap, he knew he was fucked.

You were wearing nothing but a shirt and sleeping shorts, and when you looped your arms around his neck, he instinctively closed his eyes, bracing himself for yet another erection.

He had expected you to lean in for a kiss, but you remained still, eyeing him with utmost interest.

"This place can be so isolating," you sighed.

Miguel gripped your hips, adjusting you back to prevent having you seating on his crotch.

"Nueva York is overflowing with spiders, yet you still feel so lonely, you know?"

He did know.

It was lonely at the top.

While many spiders had relationships of their own and managed to build their lives around them, Miguel had nearly forgotten how used to being alone he had gotten.

"So you feel lonely here?"

You seemed unsure. "I have you to keep me company, though I figure that doesn't really count. you were forced to babysit me when I forgot got here."

"I wasn't forced to do anything," he corrected, slightly frowning. "I saw the potential in you and wanted to harness that."

Your fingers were absentmindedly caressing the nape of his neck. "I feel really comfortable around you."

That caught him slightly off guard.

"I never thought I'd be able to reveal that secret to anyone... you whispered, shifting to sit on his growing erection. "And last night.."

The not knowing was killing him. On one hand, he was scared to find out that it had been nothing but a hear of the moment thing, but he yearned for more than that... and that part of him needed to kn more.

"Was is because of loneliness, then?"

You pressed your lips tightly together.

"Well, I suppose loneliness gets the best of us, eventually," he sighed, trying his best to seem as casual as possible. "Sometimes, using your hand just doesn't quite do it."

At this, you widened your eyes, before averting your gaze. "It wasn't because I felt lonely... I... I just... you're really attractive and.."

Miguel decided that was enough.

He brought his hand to the back of hour neck and pulled you closer until your lips grazed along his.

"Can I kiss you?"

You swallowed, pressing yourself down on him. "Do you always get this.. excited so easily?"

He gripped your chin between his fingers, tilting your head to have your eyes meet his. "Only for you."

It was a simple confession mixed with desire, but it was enough to startle you.

Fuck.

You leaned back as if snapped from a daydream. "Do you mean that? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

Miguel took a deep breath. "I mean that, and you can feel it," he proved his point with a roll of his hips.

You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut and mouth dropping open.

His sweet girl was so, so responsive...

Instinctively, you tried to match the sway of his hips, but it felt clumsy and Miguel brought both hands to your hips, gripping them tightly.

Your breaths were coming out shaky as he guided you on his clothed cock, guiding you on how to move your body alongside his.

"Does that feel good?" he asked seductively.

"Yes..." you gasped. "I... I'm.."

Miguel felt the first beads of precum drip from his tip. "You're what?"

Your hands came to grip his shoulders, and you took a deep breath before one of them slid down to your

body.

Miguel immediately knew what you meant, but he intended on having things go differently this time.

" can do that for you... he offered, gripping your wrist gently, as your fingers prepared to slide inside your shorts.

You bit your lip, eyes still squeezed shut. "You have to...”

"I want to," he said firmly.

Nodding, you brought your hand up to his shoulder again, and he took the chance to gently slip his fingers past the waistband.

You immediately shuddered and leaned to rest your face against his neck.

He trailed down carefully and his cock twitched once he reached your clit.

"Is this okay?"

You moaned in response, wrapping your arms around him.

Your clit was already swollen and Miguel felt his fangs threatening to drop once he began to slowly roll the pad of his finger around it.

It didn't take long until he felt your wetness seeping through the layers of fabric and staining his suit.

"Please... Miguel..." you groaned, now jerking your hips against his touch.

He began to drag your wetness along your folds to coat your clit with it. You were soaked for him, your body already working on preparing you to take his COCk.

But he would have to be gentle.

He would have you riding his fingers first.

"Please what, sweet girl?" he cooed, planting a kiss to your temple."

You answered by trying to have his finger slide down to your entrance.

So eager...

"Can you take one finger?"

You halted your hips and took a few seconds to nod.

"I can take it..."

He could cum just from your shaky voice and how much you craved him.

As one finger reached your opening, he felt you tense up lightly.

"I'll be gentle," he promised, tracing the sensitive spot. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

"Don't stop..."

He pressed yet another kiss on your flushed skin, and slipped the tip of one finger inside, feeling you immediately squeeze around him.

Miguel realised that if he were to be your first, he would be utterly fucked. The way you gripped his fingers with your walls nearly tipped him over the edge. He couldn't imagine how ridiculously good it'd feel to have his cock inside you instead.

"Try to relax.."

And you did try.

Until his thumb pressed down on your clit.

Your hips immediately bucked into him, encasing his finger inside you until he was buried knuckle-deep.

"Easy..." he growled, his fangs emerging right away from the overload of sensation.

He doubted you'd be able to take another thick finger of his, so he settled for having just one sliding in and out, drawing the sweetest gasps from you.

"You're doing so well.." he praised.

You rolled your hips instinctively, fucking yourself on his finger as best as inexperience allowed you.

"Take... take your... suit..." you pleaded, clawing at his chest with one hand.

The digital layer vanished down to his waist. He didn't want set his cock free or he would cum in an instant.

Then, he saw you roll up your shirt with trembling fingers, exposing your breasts.

He nearly came rigth there and then.

But nothing could have prepared him for what you were about to do.

You desperately brought your pierced nipples to graze against his bare chest, slowly raising your before sinking down around his finger.

Miguel was now certain that you would be the death of him.

He felt your wetness dribbling down his hand, but kept a steady pressure on your pulsing clit. With each undulation of your body, he was able to feel the cool metal of your piercings digging into his skin, and couldn't fight back the growl that emerged from deep within him.

As expected, he was embarrassingly close, and needed to do something about it.

"Lift your hips."

You groaned in response, stilling for a moment.

"Wait….. why?"

"I'm close.."

You slowly clenched around his finger, and his hand came to grip your hip tight.

"Too close..

The beginning of a pout settled on your face, but you did as requested, finally putting a stop to the near excruciating pleasure he was feeling.

Now he could focus on you.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck to anchor your with each flick of his finger and with each sway of your hips.

"Are you okay?"

You didn't answer, but he could tell from your erratic breathing that you were nearing your peak. Your whimpers increased in intensity, as you clumsily rode his finger, chasing after your bliss.

The sound of his watch beeping broke the rhythm for a second, but Miguel ignored it.

As long as no canon event was involve, he wouldn't shift his attention from you.

It beeped again.

But you were so close.

"I... I think I'm.."

He didn't need your words, your body language spoke to him in ways he didn't know he craved.

The movement you started convulsing against him and tightening your grip around his neck, he knew you were coming undone. Your walls clenched around his finger as the orgasm tore through your body.

Another beep, which Miguel ignored again.

Miguel allowed himself to enjoy your tightness, realising you would need far more preparation than this if you were to take his cock.

Your legs were shaking slightly, as he kept pressing the pad of his thumb against your pulsing clit.

But what really made his cock twitch was the way you kept mumbling his name in between sobs, eventually slumping against his chest.

He slowly withdrew his finger, earning a deep sigh from you.

<CANON EVENT IMMINENT: ANOMALY DETECTED>

Miguel's heart nearly burst out of his chest from the unexpected announcement, and you jolted into him, still descending from your peak.

Instant bones killer.

Much against his will, he brought himself to suit up and carefully set you aside on your bed with a kiss pressed to your forehead, before jumping to his feet, quickly clicking through his watch.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled hurriedly, glazing at you as he neared the bedroom window.

You were a panting mess, but quickly tried to gather yourself. "Don't apologise. Just go."

He hopped onto the window sill and took a deep breath, throwing you a final glance. "TIl find you once I'm done."

"You don't have to... I have to do this on my own."

He nodded. "Don't deactivate your mic."

Your straightened your shirt before sitting on mattress. "Miguel... it'll be fine."

"Do as I say."

You eventually nodded.

He hated having to part from you, but his duty came first, and he couldn't step away from it.

Not even for his sweet girl.

"Lyla, summon squad 12, and give me the readings on the anomaly."

Before swinging into the cool morning air of Nueva York, Miguel saw you crossing your legs and stare at him with those sweet eyes that he was so addicted to.

But he would be there for you again.

He would find you.

And he would make sure your devotion would he his.

Not Tom's.

Once Miguel was done with the canon disruption, he threw himself into a portal to get to you.

Your mic wasn't working, and your bio readings weren't available, and he could only assume you had switched off your watch.

Luckily, he had checked Tom's file before deleting it as you had requested.

He knew exactly where to go.

The sun had began to set on the horizon, engulfing the city in shades of orange that helped mask his movements across the innumerous rooftops. He refrained from using his web often, as the laser-like flashes would draw too much attention.

So he took it to jumping and clawing his way up the steep walls of the building opposite to where he lived on all fours, already being able to pick up some interference coming from your mic.

You were close.

"... you want me to leave."

Miguel reached the metal railing of an emergency exit, and balanced himself on it, feeling his heart stammering against his chest.

"You're so good at that, so go ahead."

From there, he was able to spot you in his apartments, near a window. He caugjt a glimpse of Tom and immediately decided he hated him.

He was scowling deeply at you, arms crossed, and words sharp as knives.

How dare he?

His claws were digging into the railing, and Miguel felt droplets of venom spill from his fangs.

This Tom individual wasn't even attractive to begin with, so he figured your previous attraction to him had to based on something else.

"You hurt me! You cannot do this and expect me to pretend nothing happened."

Clearly not based on personality.

Your voice was so low, Miguel was barely able to make it through the mic. "Tom... it was also hard for me..."

Miguel was visibly seething at this pint, wishing he could just drag you out of there. You deserved better than someome who didn't bother listening to you.

"Please leave."

There was a long pause and Miguel held his breath, not wanting to miss out on your reply.

"Don't do this..." you whispered, and he could hear the sadness in your words.

It was itching him to put an end to it.

But...

Deep down, Miguel knew you needed this. Closure. Even if things didn't go as you had hoped, you had tried your best to remedy this situation.

His heart hadn't wanted you to go visit Tom, but his mind spoke differently. He had to let you go to him, to have you as his.

A double-edged sword.

"You left me for months. Ignored me for months. You don't get to do this without a decent explanation," the idiot went on, further angering Miguel. "And since you don't want to tell me the truth, I want you gone."

This time, you cleared your throat and stormed out of the room, not exchanging another word.

Miguel considered dealing with Tom in his own way, but you came first.

He plunged from the rooftop and into a deserted alley, pacing quickly to meet you as you exited through the door, zipping up the hoodie that hid your suit underneath.

Miguel called after you, but you didn't turn to face him.

"I don't want to talk, Miguel."

Not wanting to be spotted by some passer-by, he urged you to walk into another alley.

"I heard some of it," he said softly once you were both out of sight.

You pressed your back against the wall, looking absolutely defeated. It was almost criminal that someone like you had to ever feel this way.

"You did what you could," he went on, placing one hand on your shoulder. "Maybe one day he'll understand."

Miguel didn't want him to be near you ever again, but he had to comfort you somehow.

You lowered your gaze and fixed it on a small puddle of water at your feet. "I deserve this."

"You do not."

"I don't want your pity."

He shook his head. "You won't have it."

In fact, he was willing to give you his heart if you'd take it. But he wouldn't dare say that out loud. Not in this moment.

He waited for your to make a move, but you remained quiet.

"Let's go back to Nueva York," he suggested, placing one hand on your shoulder.

You sobbed softly, and he saw a couple of teardrops drip from your face.

He just couldn't bear seeing you like this, so he took a step closer and you quickly wrapped your arms around him.

"Thank you... thank you, thank you..." you kept on repeating in between sniffles.

He held you tightly in absolute adoration and devotion. "I'm here for you."

"You're a great friend, Miguel..."

Friend.

That word made his heart sink violently.

"Just as a friend?"

There it was... his obsession for you creeping in.

You pulled away from his grip, teary eyes narrowing at him. "Oh... with benefits?"

That was somehow even worse.

Your face twisted into something else as you patted your face dry. "What do you want from me, Miguel?"

Anything.

Everything.

"Anything you're willing to give me," he said truthfully.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so straightforward, but he was merely answering your question. He didn't want to lie, and didn't want to go back to having to hide how he truly felt.

"I don't know if I can give you much more than this."

Your words lingered in the air after hitting him hard and he felt as though his body had been plunged into freezing water.

"Why?"

Your gaze wavered and you began chewing your lip. "Because I don't know if I'm ready for anything serious..."

Miguel straightened to his full height. "Anything you can give me... I'll take it."

He sounded desperate, and deep down he knew that it was probably working against him. Being intimate with you only could only satisfy him for so long if nothing was to come of it.

As much as his body yearned for you touch, his heart was seeking something that wasn’t skin-deep.

"Can I ask for something?"

Anything.

Everything.

He would give it all to you.

You cleared your throat. "I need time."

He could definitely work with that.

However...

"Do you... like being with me?" Miguel carefully asked. "And I'm not talking about being with me like earlier today." Your fluttering orgasm was proof enough.

Your eyes widened and he could tell you had not expected his bluntness. "Of course I do... I... just need time."

He pressed his lips together into a fine line. In truth, he didn't want to be just friends with you. He didn't crave that level of human connection. He needed much more than that from you.

"You only want me as a friend."

It wasn’t a question, and it sounded more like an accusation.

Was he being fair with you? Was he being fair with himself? These questions kept on looping inside his head, but his emotions had a stronger hold on him.

"I trust you," you said in a whisper. "I don't trust people easily."

That did ease some of the uneasiness within him, but he still wanted more. The grip of his obsession for you was tightening around him viciously, and it was getting harder for him to keep it at bay.

"Maybe I want more than that."

"Miguel..."

He leaned in, bending his head just enough for his lips to almost meet yours, searching for the comfort of your warmth.

He could feel you slipping through his fingers again.

You turned your head lightly and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek instead.

His eyes fluttered shut, and the dreadful feeling that you were parting from him suddenly overcame him.

"Maybe you should go back..." you said after parting from him. "I'll stay here for a little while..."

"Because of Tom?" he could feel the poison dripping from his words.

You shook your head vehemently. "Because of me."

Part 7

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