#in that moment. like. oh. of course. he’s doing this because he understands. he understands what it’s like to die helplessly and painfully

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

pillow talk - spencer reid x fem!reader

a night well spent fizzles out into soft words exchanged in pink sheets.

genre: fluff wc: 1019 warnings: mentioned sex, their first time together, casual nudity, inexperienced reader, insecurities, reassurance

It was soft, comforting even. Of course intense because how else could your first time together be? It was him, after all. As you lay, heavy pants finally returning to normal, steady breaths, a hand comes up to smooth down your hair and a kiss is gently pressed to your head.

"How do you feel?" Spencer asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

It proves to be a difficult question. A response seems counterintuitive, like it would demean the moment into something that has to be assessed. An answer has to come, nonetheless.

"I don't know." And it's the truth.

He hums thoughtfully and nods, running a hand down your shoulder. "Good or bad?"

"Good... like my brain's empty. If that makes sense," you answer.

Your head, on Spencer's bare chest, does, in fact, feel foggy. Before today, you were both too scared of the intimacy. Something changed the moment you felt him move his grip from your hip to your waist, like he was worried that he might make you uncomfortable. You didn't want that. It happened only after convincing him that you wanted to go further than the usual groping and hand stuff. Now you're unsure how you feel. Having someone you've been seeing for a while suddenly inside you is bizarre and always will be. You also can't seem to shake that voice that sounds a lot like your friends, telling you that he'll leave after he gets what he wants. Your mind is simply a flurry of everything that anyone has ever told you about intimacy. With Spencer, it was different, though.

Your hand finds his and you mindlessly toy with his fingers as you murmur, "you've done this more than me, correct?"

"Correct."

"How do people usually feel?" you ask softly.

"Everybody's different. You don't need to feel good." He takes a breath and explains in a matter-of-fact tone, his hand lifting above your shoulder to gesture while he talks, "the rush of serotonin and dopamine into our system can leave some people feeling sad or tired once those neurotransmitters decrease."

You nod, finding yourself understanding. It has been a while since you've engaged in any form of intimacy.

"That makes sense."

He nods as his fingers drop to continue the irregular patterns on your arm. His chin rests on your head. "So? How do you feel?"

Again, there's no correct answer to his question. It's a complicated experience with complicated feelings attached. But one thing is for sure, "I'm happy."

"I'm glad. I am, too," he hums.

A smile floats over your lips before a thought occurs and you have an inkling as to how he'll choose to reply to it. Your head lifts and you turn so you're now partly on your side, giving you a perfect view of his face in the soft glow of the afternoon. With the curtains closed, his skin was basked in pale yellow light, the pink of your sheets contrasting the pink of his cheeks.

"Did I do good?" you grin.

He finds you gorgeous, your sickeningly sweet smile making him gaze down at you in pure awe. It's the complete and utter truth when he responds with, "very."

You can't help but tease, "best you've ever had?"

"Yes. I don't think you could've fumbled that badge of honour if you tried," he smiles, his hand gently cupping your cheek, a rough thumb wiping away invisible tears.

Something about the sentiment gets to you. After all, you're nothing but a hopeful romantic. But you're also just a girl.

"So, even if I was bad, you'd still lie and say I wasn't?" you raise your eyebrows and bat your eyelashes.

His eyes narrow but the smile on his face shows you that he's not really upset. "No... I meant that I think I like you too much to not enjoy everything you do."

"Oh," you flush. Why does he have to be so perfect?

The hand on your cheek moves up to brush some of your hair back. "Yeah, oh."

Spencer's different than the guys you've interacted with. He's everything that little girls everywhere dream of. He's Prince Charming. That's why when your lips meet his and the sheet falls back, his eyes never once glance down. Perhaps he's an agent and an individual with three PhDs but he's a gentleman above all else. He never once wants to make you feel like he's not here for you.

When your lips break apart with happy smiles on both of your faces, you take in just how silly he looks. His hair is messy from your fingers, his cheeks are flushed and—your favourite of all—he's covered up to his stomach in pink sheets. The giggle that leaves you is unnecessary and unasked for.

He can't help the smile that comes from hearing your laugh. "What?" he mutters, brows furrowed.

"You just look... so very silly in my bed," you explain, a lovesick grin on your face.

"Oh. Well, I can't help what you choose as interior design."

You sigh dramatically, shaking your head like a disappointed teacher, "I suppose you can't."

The smile on his lips only grows as you act your ass off to seem sad by his comment.

"Perhaps I should also purchase pink sheets?" he suggests jokingly, tucking yet another stray strand behind your ear.

"I really think you should. It would complement your room and it would make you think of me so that's a bonus," you nod. You're unable to stay serious, though, the corners of your mouth lifting despite your efforts.

Spencer nods back, his bottom lip pushing up as he hums decisively. "I'm sold, let's go to the store," he says with an impressively straight face.

You laugh hard, beaming up at him with nothing but pure joy. You find his commitment to the bit amusing and, honestly, endearing. He points his thumb towards the bedroom door with his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Playfully, your eyes roll and rest your face in the crook of his neck.

"I'll get pink sheets if you want me to," Spencer softly mutters.

[keehendrixx]

You’re Mines

Crazy Intruder!Terry x Black Reader

Warnings: Smut, Rough Sex, Bondage, Pure Filth, Stalking, Gagging, Dirty Talk, Kidnapping, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Stockholm Syndrome. P in V, Use of Pet Names, Degradation. Oral (Male & Female Receiving)

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Terry watched your every move, from sunrise to sundown. His basement was full of pictures of you; eating out, shopping, at your job, out with friends, even in your shower at your house or you just changing clothes in your bedroom. He was OBSESSED with you and didn’t stop at anything until he got where he wanted you, in his arms, or you underneath him.

As you walked outside your house to check the mailbox, Terry sat in his truck looking at you. Terry's heart raced as he took in the sight of you, Dallas. The way the sunlight highlighted your curves, the sway of your hips as you walked. He couldn't tear his gaze away. After months of surveillance, he finally had you alone. He revved the engine, preparing to pull up beside you.

“Hey there, beautiful.” He called out, trying to sound casual despite the excitement coursing through him. “Fancy running into you here.”

You turned around, looking at him. His eyes captivated you in a trance.

“Oh, Hi. You are?” you asked, looking at him as you stood on your lawn.

“Terry.” Terry flashed you a charming smile, leaning across the passenger seat to get a better look at you. “I've seen you around town quite a bit lately. You're absolutely stunning, if I do say so myself.” His eyes roamed over your body appreciatively before meeting yours again. “So, what brings a gorgeous lady like yourself to this part of town?”

“Oh I moved here a couple months back. I have never seen you around here before.” You said not taking your eyes off of him.

Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, that's because I've been keeping an eye on you from afar, darlin'.You caught my attention right off the bat.”

He winked playfully. “And now, fate seems to have brought us together. What a lovely coincidence, don't you think?”

Terry pulled up alongside you, rolling down the window further. “Say, would you mind hopping in for a quick chat? I promise I won't bite... unless you want me to.” He smirked, his tone dripping with innuendo.

“Uhh.. I don’t hop in the car with strangers.”

Terry's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, not wanting to scare you off just yet.

“Ah, fair enough, sweetheart. I understand your caution. But let me assure you, I'm no ordinary stranger. I've been watching you, getting to know you, for months now.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth opened wide.

“Excuse me? You’ve been what?!”

“You heard me babygirl, I’ve been watching you.”

He reached over on his side and pulled out a photo album, flipping it open to reveal numerous pictures of you going about your daily life.

Sweat began to form on your head and panic sat in, but you didn’t want to call the cops right away. Some kind of way this man had you intrigued.

“See? I've documented all of you. You're all I can think about, baby.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “And I need to be close to you. Very close.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” You shouted as you sprinted back into the house.

You rushed and locked all of your doors. You peeked out the window to find Terry’s truck gone, you sighed in relief but you wondered where he could have gone.

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Later that night >

As you were getting ready for bed, you heard faint rustling from outside. Spooked that it might be Terry again, you quickly went into your closet and grabbed your loaded pistol from the top shelf. You looked outside of your windows but there was no one there, probably a small animal rummaging around your yard. You sat the gun on your dresser.

After putting on your night clothes, you engaged your security system. You then doubled checked all of your doors to make sure that they were secure and locked, you didn’t need this man to come into your house.

You climbed into bed, strolling on your phone until sleepiness took over.

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Hours later, Terry pulled up around the corner of your house and sat there, contemplating his plan to get you to himself .

He grabbed a black ski mask and threw it on before grabbing a black duffel bag that was full of rope, tape, etc. He climbed out of his Dudley Truck, zipped up his jacket and walked towards your house.

Once he reached it, he saw that all of your lights were off. Being the skilled person he is, he disengaged the security system of yours from his own phone and picked the locks of your front door.

He walked in, scanning the house with predatory eyes.

Making his way up the stairs, he was careful not to make any loud noises. He quickly spotted your room, as you left your door open and walked in to find you spreaded out with your leg hitched up and your gown pooled around your waist. That sight of you alone made him silently groan.

The way the moonlight highlighted your beautiful face and skin was making it harder for him not to yank you up and force his dick into you.

He unzipped his bag and pulled out the rope and tape. He sat it on the floor next to your bed.

You heard noises and woke up to find him standing next to you. You shrieked, reaching for your gun but you couldn’t find it.

“Looking for this babygirl?” He smirked, holding up the gun that he unloaded. “So defenseless right now.”

You were in complete shock.

“If you make a sound, I’ll do more to you than I want to.” He took the rope and secured your arms behind your back, before duct taping your mouth shut.

Part of you wanted to kick and squirm, but the other was loving the way he handled you with such dominance. Terry snatched your body up out of your bed and threw you over his shoulders. He walked with you downstairs and to his truck.

It clicked to you that this man was fucking kidnapping you and you accepted it. He opened the door and put you in the passenger seat before going to his side of the truck.

Terry got in and snatched the tape off of you. You immediately screamed like a banshee. Terry’s hand came in contact with your throat and lightly gave it a squeeze.

“Let me go, you motherfuckin’ psycho!”

“I don’t think so, right now you belong to me & I always get what I want or else. You betta’ look me up, princess.” He said looking into your eyes with a look that made the thongs you were wearing moist.

“Fuck you bitch!” You spat in his face.

Terry chuckled and wiped it away with his hand, taking it into his mouth.

“Oh I plan too. In every way possible.”

“I got something for bratty bitches like you.”

With that he sped off to who knows where.

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As the truck came to a halt, you looked out the window to see that you were at what looked like his house. It wasn’t big, maybe medium sized.

Terry hopped out, coming to your side and picking you up off the seat. He opened his front door and walked to a door that appeared to be the way to a basement, you were right.

He then unlocked a metal lock and opened the door to a cage and put you inside.

“What the fuck?! Let me out, Terry!”

“Nah.”

“You're gonna stay there until you can control that mouth of yours.”

He turned on the light and unsurprisingly, he had pictures of you EVERYWHERE, even some of them were of you naked. He left the basement to leave you sulking and thinking why did he want you.

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What seems like hours later, Terry came back. He leaned down to your level and smirked as he saw you tied up, looking helpless, eyes pleading to be let out.

“Terry please, I’ll be good. I won’t talk back anymore. Just let me out of here.” You begged him, but he just smiled at you.

“Oh I know you will. You’ll do everything I tell you.”

Terry opened the door and grabbed you. He took you upstairs to his bedroom and opened the door with his leg. He threw up on the bed, making your gown rise up showing your baby pink thongs.

“Mmm, that pussy looks so phat! She phat baby? Let Daddy see.” He pushed your legs wider and looked between your legs. His fingers ran long lines around the damp fabric, the sensation was too much for you.

“Hell yeah, she phat and wet, just how I like ‘em. Daddy needs to see all of you babygirl.”

Terry used his strong hands and tore your clothes, ripping them off your body leaving you completely naked, and tied. In the back of your mind, you were screaming for this maniac to stop but the whimpers that came out of your mouth said otherwise.

“Fuckin’ perfect. Look at these big ass titties. You tryna’ smother a nigga with em’?” He roughly groped your breast as his fingers began to rub your nipples, twisting and pulling on them.

“T-Terry.”

“Wassup Mamas? Huh? Tell Daddy.”

Your words were caught in the back of your throat. He continued to touch and toy with your body in ways you’ve never felt before.

Terry pulled your thongs off, taking a whiff of them, & stuffing them into your mouth.

He lowered his head, throwing your legs up to your chest. He took his two pointer fingers and spread your pussy lips. He took your scent in and instantly groaned.

“Such a pretty phat puss for me to suck on.” With that his tongue went to WORK!

He latched his lips around your clit and suckled until you were withering. You tried to move your body but he popped you on your ass cheeks.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’ while I’m tryna’ eat.”

While he was eating you like you were his last meal, he stuck two of his fingers inside your wet hole. “Tight ass pussy. Gotta loosen you up for this big ol’ dick, baby.��

At this point, you were moaning and slopping out of your mouth like crazy! You stopped trying to fight against him and just let him do whatever he wanted with you.

You felt your nut coming in the pit of your stomach.

“Cum in my mouth. I can feel that shit.” He said pushing down on your stomach more.

As on cue, you instantly flooded his mouth like a waterfall. When you came down from your high, Terry pulled you up and turned your body around to where your head was basically hanging off the bed.

He undressed and you could see that thick ass dick all in its glory, your mouth drooled at the sight. Terry gave himself a few small strokes, yanking the thong out of your mouth, before smearing his precum on your lips.

“Open ya’ mouth.”

You opened your mouth and he pushed his entire length down your throat, not giving you any time to adjust to the size. You gagged and almost threw up.

“You bet not, relax ya’ throat.”

You did what he said and began taking more and more of him in.

“Shit, that fuckin’ head lethal.”

Spit and tears ran down your face but Terry didn’t care.

“Just like that, just like that. Ugh, girl you gone make big daddy bust in this pretty throat.” His strokes got sloppier, balls smacking you in the face with every thrust.

“Ouuu, you such a good dick sucka’. You suckin’ that shit like my dick was made outta’ candy. FUCKKK! I’m nuttin’.”

His warm cum slid down your throat with such ease. He pulled out and slapped the remaining cum on your lips. Terry smiled and grabbed his camera, taking a picture of you in such a disgraceful manner.

“Picture perfect, baby.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Terry had you arched into the bed, ass up high in the air as he pounded you from the back. Your moans and screams were music to his ears as they echoed off the walls. He was giving you everything he had pent up inside of his soul seemed like.

“Yeah, that’s it. Take all this dick. Take. It.”

“F-F-Fuck, ouuu Daddy, just like that! Don’t stop fucking me!” You wailed.

“With a pussy this good, I could never stop fucking you. I would kill a mothafucka’ behind this shit.”

Terry grabbed the ropes that were holding your arms in place and pulled you against his body, continuing to give you sharp thrusts. One hand reached around to grab your throat and the other grabbed one of your titties.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Tears of ecstasy streamed down your face. The way you were being loud, you knew that you would be hoarse in the morning.

“Mhmm. This my pussy?”

You didn’t answer, only a moan came out.

Terry pulled out of your creamy hole, untied the ropes and flipped you over on your back. He then tied you legs to the bed rails and slid his dick between your folds, giving your clit light smacks with his mushroom tip.

He quickly filled you up again, stretching you deliciously.

“Oh! My! God!”

“Uhh Uht, cry out for me princess.”

He started hammering your poor cunt, pulling back to where only the tip remained before slamming back into you.

“Tell Daddy this his pussy.” He said while taking his thumb rubbing it on your clit.

“It’s yours, this pussy all yours! Take it from me Daddy!” You were just saying shit at this point, words coming up all together sounding like one big word.

“Ouu Daddy! I-I love you and this dick. I don’t ever want to leave you alone!”

Terry smirked, pleased with himself as you said those words.

“Daddy loves you too babygirl, I promise you ain’t going’ nowhere.”

“You stretching my pussy sooo good! I feel it all in my stomach!”

“There were I’m supposed to be, right fuckin’ there.”

You squirted and he pulled out, rubbing your pussy up and down, thrusting back in.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head momentarily before focusing on his. They put you in a hypnotic state.

You soon uttered the words that would send Terry into a feral frenzy.

“Nut in your pussy Big Daddy. I want your baby inside my womb.”

You felt his dick twitch inside of you and he flashed that killer smile at you!

“Oh yeah? You want Daddy to put a baby inside this puss, yeah?”

You shook your head.

“I’ma’ give you exactly what you want.”

Terry planted his feet into the mattress and drove his dick damn near past your cervix. You felt him throbbing as his thrusts grew stronger.

“Oh fuck, I’m bouta’ nut in this sloppy little pussy, fill you up til you got my baby in there.”

“Shit, shit, SHIT! I’m cumming too!”

“AHHH FUCK!” His body shivered and collapsed on yours as you both rode out of your orgasms.

He pulled out and a trail of cum flowed out of you onto the sheets. He quickly scooped it up with his fingers, pushing it back into you as your cunt accepted it, greedily.

Terry laid down beside you, pulling you close and snuggling his head in your neck as the heaviness of your eyes reached its peak, making you fall asleep.

“L-Love you Terry.”

“Never losing or letting you go. I love you too. You’re Mines.”

@pocketsizedpanther @kimuzostar @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @writingsbytee @theereina @planetblaque @dxddykenn

[im4rmy]

your first time together - jisung (idol AU)

IMAGINE: you get cozy with a very hot jisung but you two decided that he was the one that had to initiate intimate stuff.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

• jisung was very virgin, you were his first girlfriend ever, even his first kiss. he had the courage to tell you so (even if you already knew) a while ago and you reassured him that was totally okay. so you decided together that when he would've been ready, he would've let you know and take action himself.

• you and him had some pretty heated make-out sessions, but that was it. of course you were more than willing to wait for him, you wanted him to be comfortable and to have the best experience with you when the time was right.

• but holy shit. he was SO HOT and the worst part was that he wasn't aware of it. so irritating.

• you were snuggled up in his fluffy and warm bed, with snacks all scattered around, watching a christmas movie even if it was only the beginning of november.

• he snuck his feet between your bare legs under the covers searching for your body warmth and you couldn't help but stiffen feeling him getting so close.

• "are you okay?" you nod but try to not look at him, keeping your eyes on the movie going. he doesn't push further.

• after some time, he's still hugging you and he absentimentally starts to caress your lower belly, just there, under your pajama top. you take a deep breath and scream at yourself to keep it together for god's sake y/n!

• but it looks like it's not working that well because jisung gets up from his comfy position and looks at you confused. "what is it? you're being weird"

• you sigh and close your eyes. "m'sorry. i'm just- ugh. i'm getting my period in a few days"

• he widens his eyes in worry. "are you hurt? do you have cramps already?" "no, i'm just horny"

• he FREEZES on the spot and you can tell his brain is malfunctioning. you chuckle and explain yourself before his heart combust. "i'm kidding ji, i'm okay. don't worry baby, okay?"

• you shift a little to snuggle again under the covers waiting for him to join, but he's not moving. you look up at him. "i'm serious baby, don-" "are you really- um... horny?"

• you blink a couple of time watching his tensed eyes and body and you see him gulping. atp you're whispering. "a little bit"

• he has the audacity to NOD. "so- like... you want m-me to do... something?" "i told you, it's okay. you don't have to do anything"

• "but i want to"

• your eyes snap into his. "oh"

• he gulps making his adam's apple bob and hesitantly get closer to you while you just watch him with curiosity. he sits right next to you against the headboard and taps his thighs.

• "c-can you come here?"

• his stuttering and all-innocent eyes are making you tremble from excitement. you nod at his request and climb his lap, sitting on him.

• he puts his hands around your waist and take a hold of the hem of your top, pulling it up. you're surprised at first, but when you notice that his hands are shaking you smile softly and put your hands in his hair starting to kiss him slowly.

• he touches your bare torso with nervous hands but when he feels you slightly grinding on him looking for friction... he let himself enjoy the moment putting his shyness aside. he stops the kiss without backing away from your lips. "can i touch you?"

• you nod and watch him direct his right hand right into your panties. wtf is happening? what gotten into him? you don't wanna ask.

• he really starts to touch your core with slow and uncertain movements; you softly moan closing your eyes and he blushes hard, his gaze going back and forth from your relaxed face to his hand working under your fluffy shorts.

• when he seems to understand which is the right pace, you start to literally (and carefully) ride his hand and you hold his shoulders because your legs are about to give up.

• "y-you like it?" "mhh... you're doing so good baby boy"

• he's shaken up by a whimper at the praise and you feel his erection growing under your ass. you want to tease him but he curls his fingers inside you and you forget everything else. you can't believe that park virgin jisung is making you cum with just his fingers rn.

• "shit- woah that was... unexpected"

• jisung is just looking at you with big puppy eyes now, his hand still in you. you smirk and kiss him gently, stroking the back of his head making him sigh. "y/n... can we- um... can we keep g-going?" "we can do whatever you want, it's on you, okay?" "o-okay"

• you puts your hands on his hoodie and you lightly pull at it, ancouraging the boy to take it off. he does it and you can see the goosebumps decorating his skin all over his juicy arms and his breath-taking upper body.

• you bit your lower lip and he blushes again under your adoring gaze. your mouth finds its spot just under his ear and he melts under your skilled tongue. you know that spot it's his weakness. and now you're also grinding on him so he's on cloud nine.

• "o-oh my god" "you're doing so well, my good boy"

• he moans and grabs your waist. "wait, i want to-" he doesn't speak further and just lifts you to lay you down on the bed and hovering over you.

• he kisses you again caressing your bare sides gently, taking his time touching you, worshipping your body. when he reaches for the hem of your pink shorts, you lift your hips for him and let him take them off, together with your sticky underwear.

• he holds his breath knowing that you're now naked under him, except for your bra. you help him taking his pants off too, smiling to ease his nerves a little.

• he begins again to kiss you because it helps him relax, you know him. but when you feel his boner against your bare thigh you get even more horny, if possible, and you can't help but rub your leg against his lenght, making him swear.

• he looks at your reassuring smile and takes a deep breath, before glancing down and gulping seeing your bodies so close. he aligns himself between your legs and finally interlocks with you, making the both of you moan out of relief.

• he thrusts in and out of you slowly, enjoying the way you whimper and shake because of him. and when he feels his orgasm approach he hides his face in your neck and cries his pleasure against your skin and just by hearing his deep fucking voice you can feel your folds clenching around him.

• "oh my- fucking god" "shit"

• you two stay in that very position while trying to regain consciousness because holy shit. your first time together was amazing.

• "how... how was it?" "great baby, you're awsome. can't wait to do it again"

• he couldn't even sleep that night.

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

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[respectthepetty]

The beginning of Your Sky's seventh episode could've been the end of the series for me because the boys waking up in the bed with Rak in pink and laying all over his boyfriend would have been the perfect way to wrap this up!

But nooooooo! I, and Fah, must feel pain first!

So even though Fah is in full Blue Boy mode and Rak is IN PINK BECAUSE HE LOVES FAH, Rak decides to hurt us all and keeps his distance from Fah.

Thankfully that is not the case for Black Brooder Real who seems to be trying to make that love connection happen with Red Rascal Hia after seeing him naked in the shower.

So it makes it painfully clear the different dynamics happening simulateously at the table.

And everyone notices.

But once they return from the beach, it's back to black business.

Well, someone is still thinking about his Red Rascal . . .

Which is why when shit goes down in the club, Real jumps in front of his man to protect him from harm.

But personally, I think they should've let James & Co handle it and not have requested the group pay half the damages since this was not any of their fault but instead that grubby scheming man's.

But then again, Fah was dealing with his own queer rights moment.

So it's a bummer that Rak didn't tell Fah that he loves him when he was tending to his wrist.

But it's okay, because he was wearing Fah's blue, so I already know that Rak loves him. Fah doesn't, but I do.

So maybe that's why the show tried to make me feel bad for Oh doing *ALL THE THINGS* by having him confront his mother for being self-centered and uncaring, and by trying to convince us that Oh truly believed he had a chance with Rak even though it was extremely clear he did not but if Fah doesn't realize Rak loves him, how was Oh supposed to know? You know? No?

Anywho . . . he gets his own little happily every after in the form of a cutie patootie with glasses!

And I know it's love because he hands Oh a pink handkerchief to wipe away his tears, but apparently only I understand the colors, so Oh will never realize he is loved now just like he never knew that Rak did not love him.

But Rak's buddies get the color-coded assignment, so Pink Person Joy has a pink straw, Green Guy Type has a green straw, and Yellow Yal Rak has his yellow straw when Rak decides to confess his newly-realized feelings (even though I've been knowing).

But Lee is playing color games with his purple straw!

Which doesn't surprise me because he was acting like he didn't even know his brother and Rak were actually in love even though he has been doing the most to make sure his ship sailed this entire series like constantly playing middleman between them!

But I think both Fah AND Lee are Blue Boys just like their dad who can't even take a proper rest from work.

So of course his two loyal sons fly overnight to take care of business for their dad.

And I'm sure that's why Rak's family, who are magically wearing blue, will love Fah once they get to know him.

But first this Yellow Yal needs to do what he does best and communicate his feelings.

Because Fah loves him for exactly who he is.

A bright ray of sunshine in his blue sky.

[whousestypewriters]

──── ୨ৎ RED WAS THE CARPET — GRAYSON HAWTHORNE + READER ‧₊˚

a/n: and everyone rejoiced. welcome back to the grayson series that is keeping you all alive bc it is shhh. lets all collectively ignore how i havent update this in a month but we move on and enjoy part threeeee !!! and pls forgive me idk anything abt events or red carpets so if i get anything wrong js pretend. also idk why but i love the title and the fact that is somehow makes zero sense and yet is still understandable i need to shut up ive rambled too much ENJOY (love you lots <33)

[part one] i'm a fan [part two] the book club

red was the carpet that you walked on earlier.

it matched your dress.

alya, your very annoying plus one for tonight was wearing black.

there was a lot of things that happened tonight. a lot of things you were never going to forget. everybody you met and talked with... especially one of them...

"oh my god, pheebs and ki are going to be so jealous," alya squeals - quietly of course, you're still surrounded by people, and although sometimes you think alya could actually fight god and win, in public, she's behaving surprisingly calm.

well calm adjacent.

its not exactly seen as calm and collected when you're jumping up and down every three seconds when you see another celebrity walk past preparing for the carpet.

to her credit though she has somehow managed to get the numbers of four actors and singers in the thirty minutes you've been here.

you were lined up at the end of the carpet along with a few other select interviewers, waiting for the start of the event. alya was a bundle of nerves when margot robbie and zendaya stopped for their interview barely getting a few words out and opting to just hold the camera instead.

when xander and jameson arrived though, that was a different story. you'd think they were life long friends. you chatted with max of course, promising to invite her to your next book sleepover, jameson was suspiciously quiet and smirk-y and xander kept looking over his shoulder a shit eating grin on his face.

you knew what was about to happen.

pictures don't do him justice.

that was to be expected, of course. you don't have millions of people following you, or watching your every move for no reason.

the screams on the red carpet, increased when he stepped foot on it, pleas to look at the camera, answer questions, how to pose, everything. he seemed to follow along well, looking hauntingly beautiful in his suit, his face practically carved but when he scanned the large crowd twice over before his eyes settled on you, it went quiet.

he smiled - and by the way it was really hot gorgeous - and you smiled back, a private moment between the two of you in the middle of chaos.

which was totally ruined when alya latched onto your arm and freaked out that she could see grayson.

"oh my god, he's like ten feet away. ohmygodohmygod!" she squealed.

"yeah i know, i can see him," you mutter back, attempting - and failing - to stop her jumping up and down.

"but he's like right there and he's looking at you!"

"i know."

"oh, oh, oh he's coming over to us now, oh my god i think i'm going to faint, hold me."

when the grayson hawthorne stopped in front of you a soft and rare smile on his face you faltered slightly - not because of alya standing there with her mouth agape, because... wow - before raising the microphone and starting.

"hi grayson, its lovely to meet you, i'm y/n."

yn.books

liked by alya.green, maxine.liu.loo, pheobethereader, kirasbooknook, graysonhawthorne, and 852, 679 others

yn.books im am honoured to have been invited to this event!! it was so lovely meeting everyone and asking you questions 🤍 (also kinda freaking out because i met anne hathaway omggg)

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user1 i see no mention of grayson......

user2 avoiding talking about a certain someone are we?

user3 if they didn't meet im actually going to riot, i'm shipping them so hard.

user4 we have confirmation from jameson that he was there... why didnt you talk to him....

user5 maybe she just didn't want to show that?? its not always about grayson

alya.green best night of my life.

maxine.lui.loo it was so good seeing you again babes <333

yn.books we should catch up while im still in texass

���───

graysonhawthorne

liked by thehawthorneheiress, ticking.time.bomb, yn.books, kirasbooknook and 9, 853, 927 others

graysonhawthorne met some nice people tonight.

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user1 MET WHO GRAYSON??? MET WHO??

user2 ugh he's so delicious i love it

user3 everyone wake up grayson posted

user4 he better have met her or im going to quit

alya.green oh... i see how it is then.... i will do what i must...

user5 ALYA WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO??? OH MY GOD???

user6 ALYA ????

user7 in the likes she's in the likes againnnnn

────

[camera: on]

you should've know alya would have a shit eating grin the entire interview. it was tempting to punch her, very tempting.

"i honestly think divine rivals is my favorite book i've read this year," grayson's deep voice answers your question. his eyes stay on your face and he has a soft smile.

alya is elbowing you now. and you nudge her back as you ask your next question, smiling because now there are even more cameras on you.

"okay," you smile laughing nervously. "now i've asked everyone this tonight, i have a youtube channel."

"oh right yes, i follow you," grayson's voice is calm and his eyes are still on your face.

"you do?" with all of the things that are happening you weren't actually expecting him to be following you.

"yes, you're videos have become a guilty pleasure almost."

if anyone was wondering alya is losing her shit next to you. she has the biggest grin on her face, she's whipped out her camera and is taking an excessive amount of pictures.

"thats really sweet of you," a smile is present on your face now and you raise the microphone to ask your question, ignore the now fully smile grayson has on his face at your flustered-ness. "anyway my question was, do you have anything you want to say, a quote or just anything you like to tell the people watching?"

you turn the mic over to him and he looks down at you with a fond expression on his face - your insides are butterflies now - before looking at the camera.

"i'm going to say, you've made a good decision following this girl. she's a lovely person and keep supporting her," he pauses for a second, "and read divine rivals."

you laugh and nod at the camera, "i agree 100%." turning back to him you start. "well thank you for your time tonight, grayson, it was lovely to getting to know you," you look over to the over excited alya who's just standing back and nodding as if she's a proud mother. "and maybe we'll see you inside."

"hopefully we will," grayson smiles and waves slightly before moving on to the next interviewer.

[camera: off]

────

alya.green

liked by yn.books, maxine.liu.loo, pheobethereader, kirasbooknook, graysonhawthorne and 11, 483, 228 others

alya.green two things: 1, my dress tonight and 2, if they won't do it... i will.

tagged: graysonhawthorne, yn.books

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user1 OH SHE IS SO MESSY

user2 THIS IS THE QUEEN BEHAVIOUR I SUPPORT

user3 and when i tell you cackled BC LOOK AT THEIR SMILES. LOOK AT THE WAY SHES LOOKING AT HIM.

pheobethereader and you're officially invited back to the next book sleep over.

alya.green i don't need ur validation i dont have to come to the sleepovers

pheobethereader ok then :)

alya.green no wait i'll do anything i have like zero self respect when it comes to the sleepovers

user4 OH HELL YEAH THEY METTTT

ticking.time.bomb and then after the premier... the restaurant....?

alya.green all in due time my friend

user5 EXCUSE ME??? THE RESTAURANT WHAT HAPPENED???

user6 im going to need you to spill the tea RIGHT NOW

user7 the fact that they both liked this but didn't comment 😭😭

────

the restaurant was another story though, for another time.

a/n II: guys i lowkey hate it but i was determined to finish this so :)))

𐔌 . ⋮ 🏷️ tags .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

@arqbella, @midiosaamor, @maybxlle @reminiscentreader, @sweetreveriee

@elysianwayy77 @tornqdowarnings, @catapparently, @zenikswaffleshop, @thelov3lybookworm,

@anotherwriternamedclara,

[chasedeys]

I instantly thought of you when I heard him say “we locked our eyes”, would you like to share your thoughts on that? Please?

hi hello 😭 WHY i mean SURE but WHY 😭 is it because i yap too much on these two oh god you guys I'm so sorry

i fear i don't actually have much to say other than it just being pure joemarr usual bullshit of being so in tune with each other's bullshit that they just 'don't need words' and understand each other so perfectly well that joe can just do the griddy instantly and ja'marr follows suit without pausing and do the celly with him and and laugh at his stupid ass doing that shit so badly in front of so many people when i'm pretty sure joe has refused to do the griddy so many times before 😭😭 though then again this is just the usual scoring-then-team-celly thing lmaooo even if nobody else (but tee in the back from afar!) followed suit but it is special because joe burrow is doing ja'marr chase's trademark celly!! (the idea that people point at ja'marr to do the griddy to his face in various degrees of proficiency is still so funny to me I'm sorry mike gesickis point and griddy is still ingrained in my fucking head 😭 then grants griddy after sacking joe too oughughguh stop)

IT'S LIKE SO CUTE TO ME THOUGH maybe it's just because ja'marr was the closest one running to him and reaching him first so joe looked to him first and joe was all a bit awkward with the ball lmao he was holding it and looking and circling around like what the fuck do i do now with my celly and!! he said he locked eyes!! with ja'marr!!!! for help!!!!!!! ja'marr shrugging at him like 'what do you wanna do now' giving him the spotlight it's your moment what kind of celly do you wanna do i'm right here with you hyping you up no doubt about it and there's ja'marr right there in front of him of course he's going to embarrass the ever living shit out of himself doing the fucking griddy so soooo badly (i remember him doing it in the nfl is post saints game in that tunnel looking towards ja'marr too!!!!! insane. only doing the griddy looking at ja'marr. crazy. and also post afc north wins cigar smoking i think idk but still.) and ja'marr automatically mirrors him falling over himself laughing because oh? joe fucking burrow??? doing the griddy??????

but focusing on the 'locking eyes' aspect it does bring up that they do 'lock eyes' pretty often no? like they find each other across the field to stare at each other and communicate via brain waves or some shit read each others mind through eye contact and face twitches and literally anything else other than verbal words so that's super cute to note! also its soooooooooooo important to me how they BOTH keep mentioning how they keep giving each other looks lmao like at first you'd think only ja'marr being the one to mention him giving joe looks and joe clocking it but no!! joe saying ja'marr gives him looks for him to get him the ball and when ja'marr gets asked about it he gets so?? excited?? like oh! yeah! joe mentioned the looks to you? "i do give him looks i didn't even-" cute cute ANYWAY super into how joe mentioned them locking eyes sorry got ahead of myself 😭

BUT IN ALL HONESTY in this context 'we locked eyes and i just started hitting it' (lmao insane word choice) it's more of a the minute joe looks at ja'marr he knows what he's going to do the griddy because it's ja'marr in his sights. it's not that joe 'reads ja'marr's mind that ja'marr wants him to do the griddy and he's doing it because ja'marr wants him to' it's because oh! that's my guy! my guy who has this cool fucking celly that's his trademark and i've never done it for him and i have literally no fucking idea what to do so you know i should do it now that'll make him laugh lol and boom they're laughing at each other super cutely in this game that took like 10 years off my fucking life

[physics-of-one-piece]

Oh gosh thank you for the tag physics, I'll make a post about my wips too, all art of course, but before I do that I need to know more aboit this one:

"I’ll build castles for you, my love (look at me, not my brother)"

All of the wips sound lovely, can't wait for them🫶

Aaaaa, @skullfacedlady I can't wait to see what you're working on! 💕🫶🏻❤️

Oh, "I'll build castles for you, my love (look at me not my brother)"

(sighs wistfully)

This is my baby. The original. The LEGEND. The one that started it all with the Rosinante's Wife!Reader trope. Where to even start with this one? First, I'd like to link all the posts I've made up until now about this fic, it includes scenes, as well, if you want to read them.

Snippets of Doflamingo x Reader in the fic ie first ever post of the fic, the og, the LEGEND

Things Doflamingo does & says in "I’ll build castles for you, my love"

Things Rosinante does/says in the fic + Rosinante’s thoughts before he dies scene snippet

Rosinante’s Crew (Crow Corps), scenes with them + scene of Doflamingo interacting with them after Rosi’s death

More scenes from the fic, including Rosinante x Reader Scene, Rosinante & Law Scene, Doflamingo x Reader Scene

Another Doflamingo x Reader scene from the fic

How Doffy shows acts of care for Reader by providing financially for her in the fic (though this is overall for his character)

Now, let's start on explaining some more about it. The title is inspired by that thought I had when I looked at these two Donquixotes side-by-side. Like. Reaaally looked. They look very similar to each other. Their faces are nearly exactly the same at FIRST GLANCE (they have distinctive differences but a normal person wouldn't notice that from a simple glance). Usually people would say Rosinante looks like Doflamingo, except here, you meet Rosinante first.

So to you, Doflamingo resembles Rosinante when his hair is down. It's only a second, but your eyes completely change for that split moment when you think he's Rosinante. And Doflamingo notices this - it's very easily noticeable. And it fckn... Annoys him. A lot 🤣. Bcs Doflamingo was never told "oh you look like your brother" it was Rosinante who always experienced that sentence. So it's a real punch in the gut for Doffy, including his pride. Especially as he falls in love with Reader. Reader has (understandably) preconceptions about Doflamingo. So Doflamingo needs to break that preconcepted image Reader has of him so she can truly see him. It's a new experience for him.

The fic, originally, at its first outline, was only Doflamingo x Reader. But then I wanted to flesh out the entire story and Rosinante & Law happened, and they became their own chapters, and fit into the story so well, and it was my first attempt at Rosinante x Reader and damn it pulled on my heartstrings.

The Doflamingo in this fic is the Dressrosa Takeover Doflamingo (he hasn't taken over Dressrosa yet at all when he meets Reader, he simply cuts his hair short and changes his entire style after entering the Grand Line in this fic)

Why?

BECAUSE I ADORE HIM. He is HANDSOME AS HELL. WOW. JUST. WOW. And I needed to write sth with him and the idea just came. He still has a bit of his upward spikes, so when they go down they cover his forehead probably exactly like Rosinante's. And that fucks up your mind. It's an absolute mindfuck.

The story can be separated in 4 Arcs, which are for now the chapter titles.

The Marine - Chapter 1

Rosinante x Reader - it spans throughs years of Rosinante's life in the marines + meeting Reader & getting married, ends with him going on the Donquixote Pirates Mission

The Sick Boy - Chapter 2

There are 3 weeks of emptiness between when Doflamingo tells Rosinante about the Op-Op Fruit and Minion Island. These three weeks are all in Chapter 2, where Rosinante takes Law to you so you two can care for him and keep him alive. It focuses on Law, Rosinante's death (the only Minion Island scene for now), and Law's journey back to you to tell you the truth of what happened - with a polar bear and two boys sneaking into the submarine with him on the way 🤣. It ends with Rosinante's funeral and Law officially forming the Heart Pirates. ❤️‍🔥

The Warlord - Chapter 3

Doflamingo x Reader - This one is finally very much Reader's POV focused, with a bit of Doflamingo's POV as well. This part covers the next nine months of Reader's pregnancy, and Doflamingo's visits to Marineford during the weekends. There are so many things here — fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, domestic life, humor, Doflamingo singing while he cooks in a pink apron with a flamingo drawn on it with "Kiss the flamingo 🦩"... Doflamingo knocking on your window drenched like a pink cat and stripping naked while your back is turned, Doflamingo being an absolute demon you should not mess with (but you do) but also a soft three meter meow meow 🥺. Also the best support during pregnancy. Seriously. He's great at that part. Also. Doflamingo's charming smiles. Doflamingo's puppy eyes. Doflamingo's. Fucking. Puppy eyes. Damn him (I say lovingly)

The King - Chapter 4

Doflamingo x Reader - Follows post-childbirth after Reader & Rosinante's child is born, and the next two years of Doflamingo & Reader raising the child and eventually the fall of Dressrosa and Doflamingo becoming its king... I can't say too much for this one cus I don't want to spoil it too much, but... It's good. So good. And is the last chapter of the story with a Happy Ending for Doflamingo x Reader. Also, 100% will try to write some smut for this chap, bcs I neeeed it at this point. 😩

Here is the summary I made for Doflamingo's Part ie The Warlord Part when I first thought this would just be a one-shot (ha, fool!)

Summary: To Donquixote Doflamingo, family is everything. A month after Rosinante’s death, Vergo delivers him damning information after he’d ordered a full deep dive into Rosinante’s fourteen years of absence — his brother had gotten married years ago. And not only that, his brother’s wife is pregnant. Doflamingo does something both impertinent and bold, just as any pirate — he enters the Grand Line with one goal — become a warlord, meet you, and be there for you during your pregnancy. He makes history, stealing and robbing Heavenly Tributes almost every few days, conquering the Grand Line and its underworld — and is made a warlord the next month.

As the pink flowers on the single pink cherry blossom tree in Marineford sway in the wind, so do the pink feathers of Doflamingo’s coat as he steps foot on Marineford a few days later to attend a meeting with the higher-ups — and meet you.

You don't need the curse of his protection or his blood money, or want him in your child’s life — your husband would roll in his grave. However, as a former Celestial Dragon and now a warlord, Doflamingo gains permission to visit you on weekends in Marineford, and not even Fleet Admiral Sengoku can do anything about him as the orders come from "up high". The newly appointed warlord is just as your husband described him as - stubborn, sadistic, enjoys mocking people, laughs at their suffering, and a manipulating schemer. As the warlord forces you to spend more time with him, you realise there is more to the older Donquixote than your late husband told you.

I'm trying to figure out which scene to send...

How about... The first meeting?

Excerpt:

You were about to tell Tsuru they brought the wrong pirate to meet you, but then, your gaze reached his face. You inhaled sharply, the thought coming before you could stop it because of the eerie similarity of the chin and cheeks, and for a split second you thought it was…

Rosinante.

But his skin was tanned, a bronze colour. And his smile... It was all wrong.

That wasn’t your husband’s smile. It was too sharp, too wide, too wicked.

Doflamingo was taller than Rosinante, but gangly and long-limbed like him. He was bigger than on his wanted poster. His hair was no longer long and uplifted like a dragon’s head, but instead the spikes were shortened, sticking upward.

Your heart picked up its beat, dread spreading in your stomach.

Evil emanated from every fibre of his being.

“There you are.” said Doflamingo victoriously, smiling all the way.

***

For what song would fit the fic... (Giggles evilly)

This one, Doffy is thinking this one 24/7

I don’t want to let your body go 🎶

Be my queen, I'll be your king 🎶

We'll be rulers I'll give you everything 🎶

I'll be your king, you'll be my queen 🎶

Unbelievers get down on your knees 🎶

We can rule the world 🎶

So be my girl 🎶

Thank you for the ask! Can't wait to see what you're working on! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @queenmimi2817 @daydreamer-in-training

[ray935sworld]

The brothers

protective Marc & Alex, Alex & Luca

30.12 winter writing

He heard it from Santi and his first reaction was to get up and run.

His second reaction was to run faster.

His third reaction was to curse, find and kill whoever was the reason why Santi said what he said.

"Marc, listen..." his teamchef had said as he sat down. He had looked at Marc with such a serious expression that the younger Spaniard was sure whatever followed was actually horrifying.

"I heard Alex is in the clinica mobile. I don't know what happened but apparently it wasn't a riding incident. More a.... Fan... Incident."

And it was actually horrifying.

That was everything the Spaniard needed to know to make him sprint down the road and run towards the clinic.

He knew everything he needed to know. He knew Alex was hurt and he knew where he was.

Alex was hurt. That was the only important thing. He had to get to him as soon as possible.

For a few seconds his mind started running wild. A fan incident wasn't excatly a detailed explanation. There was a lot that could have happened. He feared that Alex had been hit, kicked, maybe even attacked with a weapon. A knife? Maybe. It wasn't impossible. Unrealistic big not impossible.

Suddenly his mind came up with the most unrealistic ideas but it was about Alex so his fear made him believe they were all realistic.

The evil voice in his head that denied him to calm down whispered a new vision in his head. A knife. Alex with an open abdomen, his shirt covered in blood.

Maybe a blow to the head? What if someone had actually punshed him, knocked him out, let him fall on the ground and he hit his head? What if there was lasting damage?

What if someone broke his bones? He knew himself how easy it was to break your wrist or your arm or even your leg. So it wasn't impossible.

He tried not to imagine Alex getting cornered and kicked in the stomach or face. He tried not to think of his baby brothers skin slowly getting more ans more covered in blood, his cloth already more red than the actual color of the fabric.

He pushed those thoughts to the side. He tried to ignore them. And he succeeded. Because his mind came up with an even more horrifying idea.

If it was a fan incident, it were probably Rossi's fan that had attacked Alex. Rossi's fan that were out to hurt Alex and the best way to do that was Alex.

Alex was hurt because of Marc.

His blood ran cold at that thought. He was the reason that whatever happend to Alex, happened to him.

He closed his eyes for a second as he ran faster. His mind was louder than any engine he ever heard.

He cursed himself for not being able to keep the peace. He cursed Rossi for letting all that happen. He cursed the Fans for not understanding and turning against his baby brother.

His baby brother.

Alex.

For a second he remember Alex. The young Alex that would always be hammered in his brain. Small, his cheeks big and round. His eyes even bigger and curious. He was laughing.

In his head he was ways laughing.

He treasured those moment and promised himself to save them as much as he could

He had to hurry up.

After a few more seconds, he finally reached his destination. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes but it felt like hours ago that Santi had approached him.

He saw the clinica and just entered. He knew the pace and the rules very well by now. He had been a visitor almost as often as he was the visited. "Alex Marquez" he said to the kind looking woman behind the entrance counter. "Please. Where is he? Is he okay?"

The woman smiled at him and nodded. "Of course. He and Mr Marini are both fine. I think the doctor already patched them up..." "OH that's great." he sighed with relief when he finally understood her words. "Sorry-?" "Please follow me" "Mr who now?" he asked but didn't get an answer straight away. Instead he was following her down the hall.

He passes a few roomed. He knew them all to well but he couldn't help but feel his worry overtake him once more at the thought that Alex might be in one of those rooms, laying, moving in pain and cursing everything.

He swallowed hard, reminding himself that the staff was highly qualified and that whatever was going on would be taken care of. But she had said he was alright. So maybe he had just overreacted?

Still the Marini comment didn't quite left him alone. It didn't sit right with him. If Luca was here, it meant he was involved as well. Was that what the fight was about? Did Luca and Alex got in a fight? A real fight? A fist fight?

He swallowed at the thought and was trying to realisticly figure out who had the better chances. Both were around the same height and weight. Luca had more muscles but Alex had better reflexes.

But as the older brother he was sure that his brother had won.

"Here they are" the woman announced and opened the door. "Boys, you have a visitor!"

He heard laughter from inside the room. But the first thing he saw as the nurse closed the door behind him again, to give them some privacy was Luca.

Luca sat on one of the bed, a bandage across his nose and some dried blood left on the side. Still he was smiling and Marc really wanted to punch that stupid smile out his face.

How dare he sit there and laugh while his little brother was somewhere probably in pain? He was proud that Alex may has caused the visible damaged but fucking hell he really wanted to extend it.

His look wandered around. In the other corner of the room, on the bed, sat Alex. He was facing the Italian and smiling too. His face light up when he saw his brother. But Marc didn't notice all those signs.

He stared at Alex, there was high pflaster under his eye down to his cheeks. He was sure that they'd see a visible bruising if they got the material away. His lip was split open at one place. All he saw was the obvious damaged he got.

Anger and fury collected in his stomach and almost bubbled over. He looked back at Luca. Was he the one who caused that? Had he actually punched Alex like that? Must be. Without many more thought he decided that this is how it had to have happen.

"YOU!" he yelled as Luca flinched and turned to him. "What the fuck did you do to my baby brother?!" "I-" "OH I fucking knew it! You're just like that fucking asshole!" he almost yelled and stepped closer, not even knowing what he would do.

It was then that he felt a hand on his shoulder. Quick steps could be heard but Marc hadn't noticed them until the pressure pulled him slightly back.

"Marc, fucking hell, stop that!" Alex said with a stern voice as he held Marc back. "He helped me!" Confused turned the Spaniard around. Help? No. That didn't make sense.

"What?" "He - Luca - helped me." Alex repeated, his voice calmer. "A few asshole attacked me. I got cornered and didn't know what to do. But Luca saw it and immediately helped me get out. We both got a few punches out of it but he wasn't the one that punched me. Alright?"

Marc stared at his brother, looking for any trace of lying or discomfort. But all he saw was honesty. Alex was honest with him.

"So please, calm the fuck down" the younger one added with a smile that showed that there was no anger behind his pleading. They had been speaker catalan, but now Alex looked back up, with an apologetic smile and added "Sorry about that. He didn't mean it."

"Yeah..." Marc agreed and looked at the younger man sheepishly. "I apologize, Luca. I was worried about Alex and overreacted." "It's okay. I understand" he said with a smile and stood up.

He grabbed his phone that had been laying next to him on the bed and let it slide in his pockets. He smiled at them while Alex nervously twitched next to Marc. He opened his mouth as he was about to say something but remained silence, so Marc spoke up again.

"No. You don't need to go, I'm-" "It's okay. I was about to head out anyway. I just didn't want to leave Alex on his own. And I think none of us need MY older brother to yell at anyone here. So I better get back before he even finds out that I've been here"

He smirked and gave them a wink. He wasn't trying to be mean or remind them of anything. He was juts honest in the most playful way.

"What are you going to tell him? I mean... The nose-?" Alex asked. There was a ping of guilt in his heart. After all, he had been the reason Luca got hurt in the first place. "OH... I ran against a door."

"You ran against a door? And he'll believe that?" "The alternative would be challenging someone in the academy to a fist fight. But then two of us would get in trouble for nothing. So I ran against a door and accept about a week long of jokes" he said with a smile.

Alex laughed and waved him off. "And thanks again" "Any time!" he offered and went to the door. But just as he was about to leave he stopped.

"Marc?" he said and the older Spaniard turned around.

"You know... For someone that is very insisting about people not judging your brother based on you, you are really judging me based on my brother."

For my dearest, sweet @calia23 <3

[salty-autistic-writer]

Tommy winces. “That was close,” he says, laughing shakily and trying to sound unaffected.

But Evan sees right through his facade, of course. His hand rubs a calming circle on Tommy’s back. “The kids are starting early this year,” he mutters, looking outside, where people are celebrating the new year hours before midnight. By getting excited about exploding firecrackers.

“Why do people love firecrackers so much anyway,” Tommy mutters. “All they do is to explode. They are loud. They create stinky smoke. They injure people. And they leave dirt. That’s it. Yet, people spend all their money on them. And on fireworks. Can’t believe everyone is complaining about money the whole damn year but it doesn’t seem to be an issue anymore when it’s December 31st …”

He freezes when there's another loud boom, followed by laughter. Tommy takes a deep breath to steady himself. This is nothing, he tells himself grimly. The real spectacle will happen at midnight when everyone will celebrate and the city will sound like a battlefield. Tommy is already mentally preparing for that moment.

He’s doing better now, after so many years. But he still has to push memories back. Has to suppress the urge to run. To hide. To look for his comrades who are shouting and bleeding into the desert sand. Tommy hates this. He’s embarrassed about his reactions. It’s not like he’s a jumpy cat. He knows what’s going on outside. He should be able to separate memories from reality. But the mind doesn't always follow the rules. It doesn’t care about facts.

At least, Tommy is not alone this time.

“Well, did you know firecrackers originated in old China? It is believed that the first natural firecrackers were bamboo stalks. When they were thrown in a fire, they would explode with a bang because the hollow air pockets in the bamboo would overheat. The Chinese believed these natural firecrackers would ward off evil spirits,” Evan says. “Oh, and there’s also a story about a Chinese cook accidentally inventing gunpowder by mixing three common kitchen ingredients. Firecrackers made their way to Europe in the 13th century then and by the 15th century they were used for religious festivals and public entertainment." Tommy listens while he's looking into his drawer and picks the clothes he’s going to wear. Something warm and soft, because he’s already nervous enough, he doesn’t need to feel like he’s trapped in something tight or like his skin is being scratched by fabric. His heartbeat finds back to a steady rhythm. Evan talking facts always has a calming effect on him.

But just when Tommy doesn’t think about explosions anymore, there’s a boom so loud, it echoes in the air and Tommy bends over, suddenly feeling the urge to duck, to cover, to - 

Evan wraps his arms around him, a solid and warm presence that pulls him back to reality. “It’s okay,” he says soothingly, his warm breath tickling Tommy’s neck. “You’re safe. Tommy, if you'd rather stay home today … Bobby and Athena would understand. They all would.”

“No. I want to go. It’s going to be a nice distraction. There’s going to be a lot of amazing food. And I want to kiss you when midnight strikes,” Tommy decides. “That’s been the plan. We are going to stick to the plan.”

And Eddie is going to be there, he thinks. Eddie, who will understand the pulse of phantom fear more than anyone else. “Okay,” Evan says, kissing Tommy’s cheek. “But if you don’t feel comfortable, you tell me, alright?” “Yes,” Tommy says, warmth coiling around his heart. Later, when they all count down from ten, there’s cake in his stomach and a silly hat on his head and Evan’s lips meet his while everyone around them cheers, Tommy’s fear fades away, making place for something bigger, something bright, beautiful and real.

(AO3 Link)

[whateverisbeautiful]

What is something that you feel like the show didn't talk about or explain more on in TOWL and or TWD about Richonnes relationship or friendship?? I thought in TOWL Michonne would have asked what happened to Rick that left him injured on the bridge. Can u rank the TOWL episodes in your opinion about which one is the best and not as good? Can u also rank each episode 1-10 and give a reason why u gave it that number? Merry Christmas and I u have a wonderful new year 🥰🤩

Thank you! I hope it’s been a great holiday season for you as well. I think I’ll always remember 2024 as the Year of Richonne because we got to witness their beautiful return in TOWL and I got to revel in them all year with you all which I’ve really appreciated.

For the 1st question - I think in TWD it would’ve been impactful to have seen Richonne’s first discussion about Andre. They did subtly reference Andre once in season 8, but I think showing how that initial discussion about him went would just add even more insight into how Michonne and Rick connect, understand, and confide in each other. For TOWL, that would be interesting to have seen them share their side of what happened on the day Rick disappeared.

A TOWL episode ranking feels like the perfect thing to share on the last day of 2024. 😊 I wrote out my list from lowest to highest below. Happy New Year to everyone & thanks for reveling with me over here! 🥂💗:

TOWL Episode Ranking

#6: Episode 5 (7/10)

This one is in 6th place mainly because I felt the cuts to Jadis and Father Gabriel weren’t the most engaging and took up more time than it needed and I wasn’t really feeling the one-dimensional sibling trio. However, when it comes to the Richonne content in this episode, I absolutely loved their scenes together. 🤩 That souvenir shop scene and the lovely proposal were some of my favorite moments from the series.

#5: Episode 6 (7/10)

The Grimes family reunion was gold and so was the episode's opener. Plus, I liked the scene where Rick tells Michonne how much he missed her and when he shares he's mad about the time he missed seeing their kids growing up. There was just a few dialogue moments that I found forced or unnatural scattered throughout the ep. I didn’t mind how they handled the CRM stuff and wrapped up their plan tho. Some parts were a bit of a stretch, such as Pearl surviving that explosion, but overall I was fine with it. And seeing Rick and Michonne get their happy ending with their kids was everything. 🥹

#4: Episode 3 (8/10)

Episode 3 was a really good midpoint episode with a great memorable ending. For an episode where Rick and Michonne barely converse with each other, they did a great job of still having so much tension and impactful exchanges. This episode proved that all those two have to do is look at each other and it can communicate oh so much. Rick and Michonne having conflict and different approaches on how to save each other was interesting to see. Highlights from the episode were the scene when Michonne speaks to the portratist, Rick and Michonne's hot and heavy moment behind that boneless tree, and of course, Michonne yanking Rick out of a helicopter at the end. 🤭

#3: Episode 1 (8.5/10)

This was such a compelling premiere to me. Andy’s return as Rick Grimes in this episode was excellent as always and Okafor had such an impactful presence in just one short episode. I thought ep 1 did a great job of showing us the toll these years have taken on Rick and how the most resilient man could break and shut down the way he did. Rick finally deciding to stop fighting to get home strictly because he was willing to sacrifice himself to keep his family safe - the heartbreak and dejectedness Rick felt was palpable, especially in his final letter to Michonne. And I adore the dreams he had of Michonne in this episode. I’ll never forget how overjoyed I was hearing Rick say “5 pizzas and a wedding ring” the first time and realizing Richonne was going to reunite by the end of the episode. Iconic. 🙌🏽

#2: Episode 2 (9/10)

Man did they deliver with that Richonne reunion. 🔥 For that moment to be as highly anticipated as it was, it was going to be a tall order to successfully orchestrate Rick and Michonne’s first time seeing each other in years and they truly rose to the occasion and delivered something special. I loved seeing Danai reprise the role of Michonne and pick up where she left off from TWD, meeting one of my favorite additions to the TWD cast - Nat. Like Okafor, Nat made such a lasting impact in just one episode. It also makes a lot of sense why Danai got recognized for her performance in this episode because she knocked it out of the park with the emotion she infused into each scene. And then, Andy joined right with her once Richonne reunited. Another thing I love about ep 2 is that the Richonne reunion was already so well done but then they went and gave this episode an equally great Richonne scene between the CRM vehicles too. We were spoiled and I love that for us. 😇

#1: Episode 4 (10/10)

'What We' easily tops the list. Episode 4 is such a meaningful masterpiece to me and to so many. I’d list highlight moments from the ep but every scene is a highlight. Genuinely. 👏🏽 Just the other day I was thinking about the dialogue in this episode and started tearing up just thinking about it. What Danai crafted with this episode is so powerful and unforgettable. And Andy and Danai's performances were incredible. I love that this episode focused on just Rick and Michonne in one location, letting these actors and these characters shine.

There are so few things I’d give a 10 out of 10 to but this deserves it. I couldn’t ask for more. To watch two characters who love each other more than anyone has loved someone start the episode with more conflict than we’ve ever seen them have only to believably and powerfully reconcile by the end of the episode and bring each other back to life. Just wow. 😭❤️‍🔥

I’ve already said so much about Episode 4 but I can feel myself ready to type yet another novel about how exceptional this piece of television was. Before this gets even longer, I’ll just say that TOWL overall was already a big achievement for the franchise but Episode 4 is TOWL’s crowning jewel, and I’ll forever be in awe of how great and special that episode was in depicting the beauty of Richonne. 👑😌

[cecilysass]

Beacon (6/6)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic and my poangpal @libbytxf

Chapter 6

Back in his room, she pulls out her medical bag and makes him endure an entire exam, which he tolerates without any comment because she still seems so jumpy.

He doesn’t even make any jokes about playing doctor. He just watches her closely. Her fingers are slightly trembling as she slips her stethoscope under his shirt to listen for his heart.

When she’s finished, she drops down to sit on the bed next to him, looking dazed.

“You’re fine,” she says like she’s sincerely surprised. “Your eyes are a little bloodshot from the coughing, but I think you’re going to be fine.”

“Thanks, Doc,” he says in a dry husk, smiling self-consciously.

She begins to busy herself artlessly stuffing her stethoscope and penlight back in her bag. “You should probably get some rest,” she says distractedly. “We can—you know—discuss the rest of the case in the morning.”

“The rest of the case?” he says.

“Right,” she says. She closes up the bag and stands. “I’ll wash your sweatshirt and sweatpants and return them later, of course. Do you need anything else before I go?”

“Scully,” he rasps.

“Glass of water maybe?”

“Come on,” he says, and catches her hand in his. “You just can’t leave me here thinking about what you said all night.”

With a tiny reluctant sigh she sits back down. He keeps a firm hold on her hand.

“It’s true?” he asks her, trying to meet her eyes. “You weren’t lying for the ghost?”

“Lying for the ghost?” She performs a miniature eye roll, as though that suggestion were beneath her dignity. “Mulder.”

“To save me,” he insists. “You could’ve been. Or… exaggerating.”

“Of course not,” she protests. Her voice softens. “I didn’t lie at all.”

There’s a pause as he lets that sink in. He allows his thumb to lightly run over her knuckles: once, twice.

“Just so you know, I’d, uh, never have brought any of this up on my own,” Mulder flounders in his scratchy voice. “I’d never have presumed that … I mean, I understand about work. Professionalism. Keeping things separate. Feelings don’t necessarily have to be acted on.”

“Right.” Scully’s chin moves up and down. She lets the moment hang there before adding quietly, “I wouldn’t have brought it up on my own either.”

His heart sinks. It’s more than he could hope for, he reminds himself, even knowing his feelings are shared. He could be pretty happy with that much. That and being alive, despite a very close call.

Scully turns to look at him like she’s expecting him to say something else, but he can’t think of what else would add to the conversation. Maybe this is where he should start lying: oh good, Scully, I was hoping you’d agree we should just act like this never happened.

They’re sitting close, their joined hands resting on his leg. Her expression shifts from expectant to a little pained, and her entire body lists toward his. He doesn’t realize she’s about to kiss him until it’s happening, until she’s already pulling away, looking at him with enormous eyes.

That felt like a question, he realizes. You better come up with the right answer.

Before he can stop to second guess, he slips his hand around her neck and pulls the back of her head towards him, managing to crush her lips to his. He kisses her with a force that startles him. Her lips are soft and part quickly for him. She tastes very faintly of cherry.

Mulder knows he should keep this sweet and slow, the way she deserves—but his body prefers swift and intense. Destabilized again by want, he thinks fleetingly. He reminds himself to hold back. His body tenses like a bowstring.

She pulls her mouth away and presses her forehead to his, letting her thumbs drag jagged lines down his jaw. “Does your chest hurt?” she whispers, frowning.

“No, no.” He shakes his head jerkily, giving her a sheepish smile. “I’m just, uh, awfully worked up.”

“Is that a problem?” she asks, cocking her head.

“Only because I don’t want to be an asshole.”

With a tiny knowing smile she leans in to kiss him. This time she is more overtly passionate, gripping him tighter, her mouth teasing his expertly. She scoots herself closer and closer until she is effectively sitting in his lap.

The sudden proximity of her squirming body causes him to squeeze his eyes closed. He makes a creaky, unflattering groaning sound and burrows his face into her neck in embarrassment.

“Ohhh Scully,” he murmurs, muffled, “what happens next here?”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and when she does, her voice is careful. “I was assuming I might…” She pauses. “Is it okay with you if I stay?”

Her apparent nervousness makes him bury a smile into the warm, soft crook of her neck. “I think that would be okay with me, yes.”

She puts both of her hands on his cheeks, abruptly pulling his face directly to hers. Her expression is serious, her eyes wide and solemn. She whispers very close, her breath on his lips: “You scared me today, Mulder.”

“I’m … sorry.”

“I know,” she says. “But…” She rakes her fingers through his hair, and he feels waves of warmth breaking all over his body. “You can’t leave me like that. Alone. I don’t even like it when you’re late and you don’t call. If you were… I couldn’t—” Her voice breaks a little.

She’s not as articulate as usual, but he understands her nonetheless—the urgency of what she is trying to say.

He knows she’s thinking of her sister. He knows what it is to be sitting in the dark, waiting forever for the person you lost. He knows there’s a reason why Hero followed Leander into the arms of the cruel black sea.

Leaning into her gently caressing fingers, he realizes he doesn’t know exactly what to say to her.

Her touches make his skin prickle, quicken his breathing, send blood coursing, revive all of his body. All reminders he doesn’t have to respond in words. There are other ways to tell her they’re both still here.

***

The persistent knock on the door wakes Scully. Bang bang bang. It’s not going away, she can tell.

She lifts herself from the pillow and away from Mulder’s possessive arm to squint at the clock. It’s seven a.m., much too early to be disturbed after their eventful night.

She looks around at her immediate surroundings. She has one leg wedged under the quilt in between Mulder’s, and as she more fully sits up in the bed, pushing off the cover, he makes a complaining grunt. When she manages to stand up, he grabs the quilt eagerly and flops over in bed, curling himself up into a ball under the cover.

Well. After all of that respiratory distress—and various other activities last night—he could probably use extra rest.

Bang bang bang.

Scully sighs and looks down at her attire. At some point in the middle of the night, she’d reached for Mulder’s giant sweatshirt and slipped it back on; her practical side deciding it was too cold for a whole night of sleeping nude, post coital spooning or no. But she’s still naked from the waist down. She looks around for the sweatpants and finds them on the floor, slipping them on quickly.

Whoever is banging on the door tries another time.

“Hold on,” she calls, smoothing her hair back furiously. She reaches the door, jerking it open, trying to focus her sleep-addled mind.

“Agent Scully,” Duncan says, surprised. “I—”

Scully remembers too late that this one was Mulder’s room. Duncan’s eyes are probably adjusting to the dark room behind her: the curled-up body in the bed, the scattered clothes.

“Good morning, Duncan,” Scully says with a sigh, bearing this revelation of her private business stoically. “May I help you?”

“I just wanted to tell you and Agent Mulder that I realized something rather … crucial to the case,” Duncan says, making a Herculean effort to tactfully avert his eyes from the background scene.

“Oh?” she says. She glances back at Mulder, who has not moved from where he’s huddled under the covers. “If you give me a moment, I’ll join you downstairs in the kitchen. You can fill me in.”

***

“Something you said yesterday made me think of it,” Duncan explains eagerly, filling her coffee cup. “You told Banoy and me that lighting the brass lanterns was supposed to be lucky.”

“I did,” she agrees, accepting the cup gratefully.

“I assumed that’s because the lanterns were like Hero’s beacon light,” Duncan continues, “or at least that there was a rough association. Light shining in the darkness and all that.”

She holds the cup to her lips, taking a sip, nodding. Duncan is placing a manila folder filled with photos on the kitchen table.

“So let me show you this.” He triumphantly lays an image in front of her. “The exterior of the Inn last spring.”

“Before the renovation,” Scully says, picking the photo up and examining it. It looks different, the shape of the entrance to the house, although she recognizes the walkway and the door. It definitely appeared more generally rundown: peeling paint, dilapidated ornamentation, a slight sag.

“You see the porch? The top? Its shape?” Duncan nods towards the photo.

In the photo the decorative trim on the top of the porch seems to have square corners with a jagged decorative pattern running underneath. It looks like sections of the decorative pattern had fallen off, like missing teeth of a jack o’lantern.

“Look,” Duncan says, pointing at the pattern. “They’re flames. See the little spikes?”

Scully studies the photo more closely and sees that he is right. The little jagged parts are tongues of fire. The top of the porch seems meant to resemble a lantern.

“The porch was designed to look like a lantern light,” she realizes aloud. “Like a giant beacon.”

“I never noticed it before,” Duncan says, pink with excitement. He pulls out another photo to show her another angle. “Probably because it’d fallen apart so much over the years. And I think the little decorative flourishes added on by the Victorians disguised it somewhat. But the porch was obviously originally designed to look like Hero’s beacon light.”

“And like the brass lamps inside the house,” Scully says, fascinated.

“Exactly,” Duncan says.

Scully takes in every detail of the photo, trying to put the pieces together.

“So when you tore that part of the porch down for the renovations…”

“Hero’s beacon light was gone,” Duncan says. “And that prompted some kind of reaction from her. She goes from a colorful New England legend to … I don’t know, a scene from a horror movie. But of course we had no idea demolishing the porch would invoke a ghostly serial killer.”

Scully shakes her head, looking out the window at the tranquil snow-blanketed town below. She wonders if the old family, the descendants of the Younge family, might have known something about this all along.

“So what do you plan to do now?” she asks Duncan.

“Well, it won’t make Banoy very happy,” Duncan says, “but clearly we need to turn our porch roof back into a beacon light. Even if our renovations take a few more weeks. I mean… a murderous ghost is bad for business.”

“I… I guess you’re right,” Scully says, her shoulders lifting and falling. “It’s as logical as anything, I suppose.”

“Anyway, Banoy and I can come up with a better faux beacon design than what was there before,” Duncan says.

“Something less last century,” Scully deadpans. She pinches the bridge of her nose in consternation. “It’s just hard to accept that you have to consult with a ghost about your architectural choices.”

Duncan gives her a sly look. “Am I to assume you’re a believer in ghosts now, Agent Scully?”

“With … many caveats.”

“A lot can change overnight,” he says significantly.

She places both hands around her coffee cup, her cheeks pink. “Yes.” She swirls her coffee slightly. “That’s true.”

“Maybe you and Agent Mulder should go back to Washington for now. I’m sure you’d like to be home for the holidays,” Duncan suggests. “We can check in with you again after a month when our renovation is finished. We can let you know if anything significant has changed.”

She nods, biting her lip. “I will pass that suggestion along.”

“Maybe next month you two could come back up for the weekend,” Duncan says. “Make a trip of it.” He folds his hands and regards her with amusement. “Only to see if anything has changed, of course.”

The corners of Scully’s mouth curl up involuntarily.

***

From the car window Scully watches as Mulder hurries down the neatly shoveled sidewalk from the entrance to the archives building. He throws open the car door and anxiously jumps into the driver’s seat next to her.

“I’m freezing,” Mulder whines, slamming the door shut behind him and rubbing his hands together.

“Why aren’t you wearing gloves? A scarf?” Scully asks unsympathetically. “Why aren’t you dressed for the winter?”

“It was just a fast errand,” he says, making a mock sad face. “Running in and out. I didn’t want to bother with all that.”

“Well, did Mrs. Davenport appreciate the soup?” Scully prompts him. “What did she say?”

“You know, I actually think she did,” he says, a look of satisfaction spreading over his face as he glances back at the archive building. “I told her that Banoy made the soup just for her, and that he wanted me to invite her to visit the Inn and talk to him and Duncan about the ghost. She seemed flattered. And excited to share what she knew.”

“That sounds even better than you hoped for,” she says. “Look at you, bringing the local populace together.”

“She did ask if I’d be coming to the Inn for the history lesson, too,” Mulder admits. “She seemed a little disappointed when I said I wouldn’t be.”

“Yeah, I bet she was,” Scully comments dryly.

“I might have led her to believe Duncan and Banoy wanted her advice in designing the new porch,” Mulder adds, shrugging.

“That is definitely not what they said,” Scully says. “You made that up.”

“The important thing is to get them talking,” Mulder says dismissively. “They’ll be able to better understand how to work safely with their house ghost if Mrs. Davenport and the old family share what they know.” He fishes his keys out. “All the rest is details.”

“Okay then—mission accomplished,” Scully says. She has the impulse to ruffle his hair in congratulatory affection, but it’s so far out of their typical vocabulary of gestures towards one another. She squeezes her own hands in her lap. “It sounds like we’re ready to get on the road, right?”

“Right.” Mulder throws her an enigmatic look as he turns the engine on. “Back in plenty of time for Christmas, just like I said.”

She decides to attempt a bolder comment. “You’re in a good mood this morning, Mulder.”

He flashes her a mischievous look and then peers in the rear view mirror to back the car onto the street.

“I sure am,” he says, grinning.

“Any reason?”

“Hot date for Christmas, remember?”

She faces straight forward, but allows her subdued expression to burst into a wide smile, too. “Of course. I forgot.”

He begins to steer through the little town, which seems even quieter this morning than the evening they drove in. Behind the steepled church, Scully notices a sleepy graveyard blanketed in drifts of snow. She wonders if that is where Sophonia Younge was buried.

“You know, Scully, I was thinking,” Mulder says conversationally. “If you’re now accepting ghosts as part of your worldview, I can put a few more cases on the docket for the new year.”

She eyes him warily, but he continues.

“Just off the top of my head, I can think of a famous case of a haunted hotel in Savannah, Georgia. A similar situation to this one, except the apparition of Anna Powers doesn’t murder people. Just kind of rearranges hotel guests’ clothes and that kind of thing.”

“Rearranges clothes.”

“Yes, most ghosts are actually benevolent entities,” Mulder says cheerfully. “Miss Younge being a notable exception.” He turns the steering wheel as they head off on the country highway. “There’s also the ghost of Peg Entwhistle in California, a 1930s actress who ended her life at the Hollywood sign and haunts it to this very day. She just makes appearances—typical Hollywood. You like L.A., right?”

“You understand our job is to investigate when crimes have been committed,” Scully says. “We’re not actually freelance ghost hunters.”

“If you’re up for some international travel, there’s a ghost I remember from my Oxford days. A Puritan girl named Prudence who was abandoned by her lover, sighted repeatedly on Magpie Lane,” Mulder says. “Don’t you want to try to meet her?”

“A ghost you remember from your Oxford days,” Scully repeats flatly. “Magpie … Lane.”

“It’s a real place,” insists Mulder, smirking. “I didn’t make it up.”

“How many ghosts are wronged women, Mulder?”

“I don’t have the exact numbers, but we can certainly investigate that question, Scully,” he says. “It does seem like a lot. I mean—you can guess why, though.”

“Why?”

“Women are more likely to die without justice,” he says. “So their souls linger behind to try to right the wrongs.”

She leans back in her seat and watches the austere winter trees fly by the window, contemplating what he’s said.

“Not always,” she replies pensively. “Their souls don’t always linger.”

He doesn’t say anything to that right away, and she can practically hear the gears of his mind whirring in the seat next to her. It feels strange, discussing her innermost thoughts so openly with Mulder, but she doesn’t hate it either.

“No,” he says finally. “I guess not always, Scully. Sometimes they leave someone living behind …someone else who has to try to right the wrongs.”

“Yes.” The word feels weighted.

“Do you… wish it were otherwise? That your sister were still here as an apparition?”

“Of course I wish I could see Missy again,” Scully replies to the window. “But to see her haunting my apartment, seeking justice eternally? To see her continuing to exist as a kind of … empty spot, a missing space where my sister used to be?”

“No,” guesses Mulder. “You don’t want that.”

“No,” Scully agrees. “The dead should be free to go on.”

“The living, too,” Mulder says. “Right?”

She looks over at him. His eyes are on the road, but he glances to make brief eye contact with her.

“Yes,” she agrees soberly. “The living, too.”

The car turns into a stretch of thicker overhead trees, and the light in the car becomes sudden blue-gray and dim, patchy with the shadows of limbs reaching over their heads.

Kind of ghostly, she thinks.

She thinks about what sort of things she wishes she were free to do as a living, breathing person. Things she hasn’t done enough. Things her sister would have urged her to do more.

There’s at least one obvious answer.

“Mulder,” she says, as the car winds deeper into the dark and frozen forest, “what day is your hot Christmas date?”

He gives her a look. “You know I don’t really have one, right?”

She leans down to adjust the heat in the car. “You could, though,” she says casually.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh.” His eyes shoot back over to her. “In that case … it’s tonight.” He looks over at her again, checking her expression. “Or tomorrow. Or, you know, the next day.”

“In other words, your schedule is flexible.”

“For that particular social obligation?” He lowers his voice. “Yes.”

“Then soon,” she says softly. “Very soon.”

The road follows alongside a small river, clear and cold, crashing over rocks. She watches it as she reaches for Mulder’s right hand, wrapping her fingers tightly around his. He makes a humming sound.

The river moves too fast to freeze; it never stops its chaotic rush and flow. It pushes on through the darkest corners of the forest.

[seilon]

aughgsgghhhh you’re telling me. in his final moments. in what would otherwise be complete agony and loneliness until the bitter end. charles succumbed to his injuries peacefully falling asleep to the sound of edwin’s voice reading him a story. you’re telling me. oh god. oh fuck

[braceletofteeth]

— I thought about how you would feel, so I didn't dare say anything.

— Shutting me out like this doesn't make me feel better.

[screampied]

#THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY. g. suguru

☆ sum. the last thing you’d expect for a surprise birthday present by your friends was a visit to a men’s strip club. geto suguru—your dancer’s got it all. tall, handsome, and he wants waaay more than just thirty minutes with you.

wc. 6.9k (h.. haha)

warnings. fem! reader, stripper au, stripper! geto, unprotected, lap dancīng, dry humping, switch geto, lots of riding, 69, finishing too quick, choking, geto has nīpple piercings, hair pulling, spīt, dirty talk, he licks champagne off you, nīpple play, breedīng, praise, **** cameo :), petnames.

an. ty to the ppl who voted on my poll <3 kinda scared to post this LOL. this came on a whim ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

➤ kinktober mlist.

“i understand your body wants it. i know your thoughts, oh you ‘bout it ‘bout it . . ”

the erotic lyrics that blared through the club’s abject speakers nearly deafened your ears the moment you stepped inside. you were flashed with a plethora of luminescent jade lights as you read a glowing sign near the bar that read ‘welcome to the vixxxen lounge.’ your friends, who decided to surprise you for your birthday with nothing more than a girls’ trip to a men’s strip club told you they’d be getting drinks if you need them. of course . . that was probably code for: going to spend time near the private rooms.

apparently, it’s ‘happy hour’ which meant countless discounts—and you’d already had your two individual sessions paid for by one of your friends. crisp aerating air waves from the air conditioner chills against your skin as you lean against the bronzy brick pillar. you gather your surroundings, eyeing the oily attractive glossed men that entertained the screaming crowds of thirsty women. the wide stage was spacey, and it almost looked like a concert—you started to wonder just who you were paired up with. but right as you’re pondering deep in thought, there’s a light tap on your shoulder.

“miss.”

you turn around to face probably the most attractive man you’ve laid your eyes upon. he’s tall with lengthy long hair — tangled black tresses of strands that reach just about past his shoulders. you couldn’t help but openly gawk a bit . . finding your eyes to leisurely trail down toward his skimpy attire. near his neck, he had a stained smooch of a lip stick mark that was a dark shaded red. you then noticed a few hundred dollar bills stuck in between his red thin straps.

this guy, it appeared he was dressed as some kind of firefighter. he had on the helmet along with the matching baggy yellow pants, but was completely topless. the only thing that went against his chiseled pecs was the skinny straps that attached onto the belts of his pants.

“heyy,” he waves a hand in your face, arching a brow.

“o- oh, sorry,” you bashfully murmur, mentally cursing yourself out for wandering off into space again. embarrassing, embarrassing. fishing for your vip pass that gave you direct access to one of the secluded private rooms—you dig it out your pocket, staring down at the assigned dancer and room number. “are you uh . . geto?”

“i am. but ah, suguru’s fine,” he murmurs, and he takes your pass, putting the temperature lanyard over your neck. geto’s fingers brush against your skin and you nearly shudder.

his touch.. it felt like sparks of electricity, and near the far distance by the crowded stage, your friends waved at you. with a throaty, “follow me, birthday girl,” he swiftly turns his heels and starts making a beeline toward the back of the club. you follow him, continuing to eye his costume.

but phew, he had quite the ass.

but anyway—that’s not the point.

it never really occurred to you how all the male strippers had specific costumes—you were far too entranced by geto. it was probably because of how halloween was only a mere few weeks away, so it’d make sense how they’d be ordered to get into the spirit of things.

“and imma let you do it how you wanna girl i’ll riiiide with it, riiiide with it . . ”

the lyrics of that catchy same song that resounded through the speakers of the club grew louder—and as he guided you inside the dimly red lit room, he makes you lie back against a cushioned sofa. there’s a few piles of money scattered near the front, and you didn’t count but that amount could make anyone filthy rich.

geto rubs the back of his neck, rolling it around to stretch before he glances down at you. you struggle to look him in the eye and a faint smile creases across his lips.

you’re new, and he could tell you weren’t used to such carnal provocative environments.

“relaaax, pretty girl,” his voice was low purr. the way he talked was soothing, a good amount of teasing and playfulness. right at his words, your shoulders slumped and you lean back.

the air around you seems to close in, getting thicker ‘n thicker before he makes you haul your arms over the edges of the couch. “comfy?” and he doesn’t do anything else until you give him a subtle complying nod. geto takes off his amber-colored helmet before putting it on your head. “lean back. just focus on me.”

“o . . okay,” you exhale, and your eyes finally meet his.

the fake firefighter helmet crooks, tilting a bit to the side over the crown of your head as you watch him starting to sway to the bass dropping beats. you gulp as he gets closer . . and closer, following the exact steps to his usual routine before he gets on your lap.

he’s so pretty, and now that his helmet was off of him, you got an even more view of his face. geto starts to slowly grind against you, one hand resting near back of the couch that’s next to your shoulder. he’s fully in sync with the song that booming blares in the background.

the friction. he was moving up against you, and you couldn’t help but glance down his glossy chest. his legs were huge, and you didn’t even notice the clamped silver piercings that stuck against his reddened nipples. “is this okay?” he whispers, and you already feel yourself starting to heat up. the a/c was blasting—and yet, you felt like it was over a hundred degrees.

“ ‘s okay,” you breathlessly say, feeling your facial expressions serene. geto swiftly gets off you, and he starts to rock and grind his hips against the floor.

he’s slow and precise—each movement matches the following before he sits up, flicking against the straps of his costume. fuck, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you knew he was probably used to this . . seeing so many women at a time, giving them a thirty minute private dance and going on with his day.

geto had charisma and lots lots of it.

it was ironic because he didn’t even have to say anything. throughout the duration of his entire routine, he let his hips do the rest of the talking. speaking of hips, you’ve never seen a more a slutty waist.

it’s unapologetically snatched, and you start to envision seeing his face plastered on every cover of a a men’s vogue magazine. he’s gorgeous—and the second he’s back in your lap again, he leans into the crook of your neck. “hey,” he repeats, and his voice was a lot more pitched and lower. it’s a dirty kind of husky that makes you clench your thighs together. as he’s up close—you get a whiff of his cologne. it’s quite loud, and you’d guess the scent was something between bergamot and rich aromatic oak moss. “do you wanna touch me?”

a breath gets trapped in the back of your clogged throat at the question.

geto continues to gradually grind his hips into you as pretty black strands of his hair tickles near your shoulders. “y- yes,” and the words smoothly flow from your lips like smooth molasses of chocolate.

geto was patient, and he wanted to make you comfortable—that was his number one priority.

he speaks in a more rough yet sly tone. “ ‘m gonna grab your wrists okay? just feel me,” and you feel mentally prepare yourself. biting down on your bottom lip—you mouth a soft, ‘okay,’ and geto gently grabs your wrists.

he’s still slowly jerking his hips against you, matching each sultry beat of the song. the base of the chorus rang through your ears and the lyrics flowed through once ear ‘n out the other.

as you stare up at him, he makes you press your hands firmly against his shaven flexing chest. sheets of slicking sweat that covers the top part of his body coats on your hands and you cutely furrow your brows. “heh, oh sorry love. ‘m a bit sweaty, hope that doesn’t turn you off.”

“it’s f . . fine,” you utter, and he resumes to guide your hands. his chest was as hard as a brick, and you felt how his muscles would freely tense.

god, geto was a literal sculpture. you probably looked stupid with how you kept openly staring at his perfectly carved abs. an entire six pack - each section even more strenuously ripped than the first.

as you continue to gawk, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets—you feel him shifting his weight a bit so he wouldn’t crush you. your thumb snags against his pierced nipple and he grunts, breaking character for a second. he lets off a cute snarl. “sorry! i didn’t-”

“sweetheart, it’s okay,” he hums, releasing a low puff of air. so he was sensitive there, noted.

as he continues, he makes your hands reach lower. the thin straps of his costume glide against your plump fingertips before he stops at his fading raven-colored happy trail.

black ‘n bushy . . you could make out every single tiny speck of hair that stuck against the lower part of his abdomen if you squinted, and you did.

the rest was hiding underneath the upper hem part of his prop turnout pants. “now ‘m gonna let go of my hands,” he whispers, eyeing you intently.

it was so much lustful ardor in the air. the more you stared at the dancer, the more you started questioning why the hell you never visited a strip club sooner. a question that was probably gonna remain unanswered..

“ . . ‘n ‘m gonna let you do whatever you want while i finish.” he concludes his sentence, and as if his hands were attached to your own with adhesive velcro, geto slowly pulls away.

now, it’s just your two balmy palms pressing against his chest. you take it upon yourself to drag an invisible line down his flat sleek cheek with your fingers.

your hands then find themselves reaching for a few papery fifty dollar bills, tossing it at his glossed grinding body. geto sighs with a cunning simper, continuing to rock his slim hips into your lap. “that’s it, feel me princess. ‘m all yours.”

and in a way – he was.

it was only you two in the room, and yet it felt like you ‘n suguru were the only people on earth. the entire mood was sensual and you could almost smell the libido that radiated off his skin. it was a scent you couldn’t describe—but you didn’t want him to stop.

as your hands kept roaming down his puffed out chest, you stop right at the hem of his pants. poking out, his sharp carved-like ‘v’ shaped pelvis arches within each muscle he moves forward.

the crimson red lights that flicker every three seconds narrowly spotlights toward geto’s fit body. for a quick moment—you get a good glimpse of his face and he’s inches away from your shimmery twitching lips.

geto leans up to your ear and he hoarsely whispers. “birthday girllll,” and he huffs out a drawn breath, feeling you eagerly tug at his pants. a snicker leaves from him before he gets a nice smell of your citrusy perfume. “ah. is the pants gettin’ on your nerves?”

“a bit,” you murmur honestly, and you were already undressing him with your eyes. you were sure geto was most likely wearing a thong underneath but you imagined otherwise.

filthy - you couldn’t believe the thoughts you were having.

to think, if you hadn’t accepted this little ‘girls’ trip’ with your friends, you’d probably be sleeping the entire day away. after all, they did want you to get out more. especially for your special day. with a pout twisting across each part of your lips, you sigh. “can i—”

“what, undress me?” he tries to play coy, seeing your pouty expression increase. geto hums, amused as you lightly hook a finger underneath his hooked strap before he shrugs. “go ‘head, princess. knock y’rself out.”

geto found your hesitance cute. you didn’t wanna seed ‘needy’ but you were showing all signs of it. at the moment, you completely forgot you were at a strip club and he was just a dancer.

but fuck it.

you went slow as he still straddles your lap, slowly pulling down his loosely fitted pants. they were baggy.. a flashy color of yellow, and the more you tugged them down, the more you got a glance at his scanty thong.

it’s dark purple with his name embedded on the thin white strips.

from all sides, it spelled ‘s u g u r u,’ in bold lilac plum colors. he even had custom made thongs? as if you couldn’t get even more aroused—

yeah, you were aroused. leave it to your legs that remained glued together starting to swelter up with … stickiness.

not everyday did you have a man grind against your lap, and to be fucking frank you didn’t think you’d last.

“you’re so pretty,” you pant, watching him shimmy his pants down to where it flops down to his ankles. and oh, he had quite the bulge.

it looked almost painful—so swole and round, you just wanted to kiss it. it looked like at any second it was about to just burst through the cottony stretched fabric. the scenery grows more hedonic as the red lights dimmer. you could barely see his face anymore, just a silhouette that grinds against your lap at each beat of the song playing loudly.

as you nearly slip out a moan, you lean back before your heaving breaths start to accelerate. “suguru.”

“aw,” he coos, feeling your arms wrap around his slender waist. geto’s still swiftly grinding into you, feeling your cute nails claw into his back. the back of your brain kept chanting ‘more, more, more!’

you still have the helmet on, and with the way it’s crooked and could barely fit your head—he found that small detail adorable. as he remained seated on your squished thighs, it was embarrassing to think you were starting to feel yourself erratically throb.

leaning into your neck, he could loudly smell your sheer arousal and it makes him lowly chuckle against the soft shell of your ear. “not satisfied, yeah?” and he lets off a quiet bellowing grunt, feeling your hands trail down his sweaty body once more.

he’s so built, parallel to a literal tank.

geto’s rocking against you in rhythm with the same song that still trumpets through the speakers before whispering. “just say it ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

“you always come to the parties. to pluck the feathers off allll the biiiirds. . ”

the lengthy song continued to drag on—and the busted speakers in the private room sounded like it was about to break from the distortion. it was loud, but your panting breaths was even louder the more geto dances on you.

letting off a longing three second moan once a leg of yours voluntarily hooks around his slim waist, you mewl out a sweet, “i want you. suguru, fuck me.”

“oh. sounds like a demand, sweetheart,” he purrs, and he stills his hips against your lap.

geto’s got a plethora of rings on each of his fingers. pretty silver ‘n gold bands that would wrap around his digits. he had long fingers, thin and perfectly slender.

the more you stared, the more you thought how good they’d fit insi—

“eyes up here,” he cuts you off, and you shudder feeling his palms cup your face. your leg still wraps around his waist before another shortly follows.

he’s barely rocking into you now, and with a bumpy shimmy, you feel his bulge rub against you. “mhm,” geto grunts before meeting your needy gaze once more. as a thumb strokes your bottom lip, pulling it down gingerly, he whispers. “ask nicely. say pretty please.”

“you won’t … charge me extra?” you sheepishly say, beads of perspiring sweat trickling down all sides of your forehead.

geto smugly smiles, grumbling a subtle, ‘nah,’ before making you lean all the way back against the padded sofa. “okay,” you breathe, and you just didnt care anymore.

you wanted him – maybe even needed him..

geto’s hardened bulge that presses against his thong throbs harder before you sweetly murmur,“please, fuck me, suguru.”

“anythin’ for the birthday girl.”

and those words were the same exact words that ran through your mind as you now found yourself in . . quite the risqué position.

you’d be the one straddling geto now. he’s got you in a classic 69, and your pretty perked ass hovers over his face. right in front of you was his weighty fat cock, and it’s a pretty flushed pink with rosy-lime veins prodding from the sides.

you’re whimpering out sweet harmonic keynotes as his long pointed tongue slithers its through your inviting entrance, two broad arms clinging onto your hips. “fuuckk,” he’d groan, feeling you smear a thumb over his leaky mushroomy tip.

you’ve already got him sopping wet from the chin down thanks to your wet cunt – glossy pearly drool seeping from the sides of his dick.

geto’s shaft remains idle, and you wrap a hand around his base before pumping it, rotating your wrist – once, twice, thrice..

he was aching, and the entire time he was giving you a show he had a boner. it was rare, usually whenever he gave lap dances—he was one to never really crack, he was a trained professional and yet here you were.

“mmch,” his swollen puckered lips smack against your cunt as he eats you out entirely from the back.

your mouth drops, jaw dangling— goofily hanging open like a cartoon as he resumes to extends the length of his tongue inside the outskirts of your warm room-temperate-tastin’-pussy.

lolling it out all the way, he licks from top to bottom—stopping at your clenching hole. geto gives it a five second kiss, a sloppy one that glues a mixture of his spit and your slimy juices on his mouth. “sweetheaaart,” he rasps, biting back a greedy groan once he feels you starting to take him in your mouth.

your throat’s seraphic warmth draws a hot sharp breath out of him as he swats a hard palm against your ass for you to start. “when i say move your ass against my face, i fuckin’ mean it. move,” and you let off a candied whimper the second the temporary sting sends singles toward your weeping whiny clit.

feebly, you start to flop your ass up and down against his face and you hear a satisfy ‘hmm’ purr from his lips. you’re moaning, sinking his cock down your throat in the process before your sticky tongue swirls around his angered crownhead. “mmph,” and you take a few inches before you feel his tip swipe against the scaled roof of your mouth.

going back up, it loudly ‘pops!’ out as a bit of sheeny saliva trickles down your chin. you’re taking him deep within no time, and you let off a cute hiccup once his swollen sack paps near your jaw.

so full ‘n round…

you’re breathing through your nose, still shaking your ass against his face, swipin’ his nose occasionally like a credit card with your honeyed-slathered cunt.

his wide flat tongue felt so good that you felt your toes curling each time he playfully nibbles on your sensitive throbbing clit. his tastebuds felt each pulse and it was so hot. “sugu, fuck.”

“i know, i know,” he gruffly whispers against your runny folds. bringing a pair of long twinned fingers towards your pussy, geto strums it down the pulsating slit in a straight pillaring line.

with a bit of pressure—he spreads your lower lips apart, getting a front row seat view of your clit pumpin’ pumpin’ away.

you had such a pretty throb, the prettiest he’s ever seen.

“god, you’re pretty but you’re even prettier down here too,” and not only do you hear him swallow but you feel it too.

a long full gulp, and he’s making sure to savor as much of your sweet slick on his tongue as possible.

geto’s just nasty, and a proud eater. he zigzags his tongue everywhere until your vision’s murky and clouded. you’re left crossed eyed with puffed up cheeks, barely able to focus on his dick that’s laying flat on your tongue.

a hand of his squeezes against your ass before with a mean ‘whack!’ he spanks it again just to see the bouncy recoil. the way a ‘lil fat portion of your ass would jiggle all due to the hasty-rash contact of his palm makes him throb.

and you feel it right in your mouth.

as your head bobbles at a more quick yet languid pace, your tongue skims down one of the many veins that paint down his cock. your repeated moans become muffled, and geto groans at how sloppy you sound—from the front and from behind.

the more he slurps every syrupy drop that dribbles out from your gurgling pussy, his precisely-thorough licks turn into exaggerated four second sucks.

geto softly caresses a hand against the bare skin of your exposed flesh, tugging on your pulled up skirt. pulled to the side were your panties that had a pretty pink star imprinted on the back decorated with glimmery rhinestones. you moan as your back slowly arches inward ‘n out and your knees become to buck.

his tongue, he definitely knew how to eat.

“ ‘s good, juuuus’ like that princess,” he huffs, feeling minuscule dewdrops of your saliva pour down the sides of his cock, slicking all over his base.

your thumb traces a heart over his hefty sack, massaging his tender full testes before you hear geto whine out a sweet, “o- oooh shit,” he was tender there too, huh..

and the sound catches him completely off guard because he grunts, the swaying of his tongue gradually slowing down. geto’s pretty lashes flutter before he grunts, taking a second to breathe. “don’t . . stop, play with ‘em some more,”

“pf—” you pop your mouth off his dick again, wet slimy sounds following as you stroke him off with an closed palm. “are you sure?”

“yeah yeah, ‘m sure,” and there’s a bit of sass in his gruff tone.

geto’s getting flustered, and never in a million years would he admit that you playing with his balls made him feel so good but fuck, it did.

geto paws a hand against your ass before letting off a hurried breathless, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

you went back to bobbling your head up ‘n down, pumping his fleshy pillar of length in your free hand before you start writhing your ass against his face even more quicker. geto moans, a surge of a trill nearly escaping out his gruff vocal chords before he grunts loudly. “mmp,” and your throat was so wet ‘n warm.

it enveloped him entirely, and as your cunt’s sitting over his slick lips—every so often rubbing against his nose and slick-streamed chin, he peppers it with a few kisses.

your hips were arched ‘n askew, and as your tongue occasionally darts down his sensitive slit you hear him grunt again. the burgundy colored sofa pathetically dips inward due to the stacked weight of both rutting bodies. geto’s eyes start to roll their way back as you continue, nearly sucking the soul out of him.

“fuck, baby. spit on it,” he groans, clasping his teeth at your needy clit.

he slides his tongue against your cute bulbous-shaped nub before sucking on it for the umpteenth time. you moan, still tossing your ass around for him in a slow meandering manner, feeling his tongue drag down the slope of your ass again.

geto’s pussy drunk entirely, and he didn’t care if this was against policy, having a customer touch him. when you tasted this divine, he couldn’t help devour your cunt like the starved, starved man he was..

at his words, you spat out translucent globs of saliva from your lips, pasting the slightly curved sides of his dick with your slick mess. “pff,” and you drench him from the base down, twisting his shaft with your wrist before hearing him groan.

geto’s about to finish and you could feel the vigorous pumps of his dick in your mouth growing weaker … and weaker – until, he cums.

geto’s jaw goes slack the moment his peak abnormally reaches, and growls out a husky ‘fuuuuuck,’ with the muscles in his neck tensing.

within a blink of an eye and a snap of a finger, the flat tip of your tongue’s now being sprayed with spritz of waxen cum. it’s a bittersweet taste that coats on your judgy tastebuds, and as you close your eyes with a humming moan departing from your lips, you hear him hiss. his body’s violently shaking, and his hips start to hungrily thrust into your mouth.

you wriggle your ass in face as he’s barely eating you out anymore, frantically heaving as he dumps his all down your pretty tight throat. “fuck, fuck, take it,” and his body still sporadically tremors.

as your mouth’s still full, geto gives your teary wet cunt it’s last few lapping licks before his head collapses back in lecherous defeat.

with cheeks still plumply puffed — his cock remains shoved inside. his aggravated red tip’s just swiping ‘n erupting near the roof of your mouth as you slurp him clean.

you swallow instantaneously, luxuriating in the mildly honey taste before feeling him shudder underneath you. “goddamn, so fuckin’ good. fuckin’ filthy, princess.”

with clammy palms, he turns you over and you lean in to kiss him. geto’s taken by surprise, and as you make him flop back against the velveteen cushion, you made your way on his lap. rough edges of teeth clash and roughly clatter against each other as each tongue plays a more salacious version twister.

geto reclines back, his hands moving toward your rocking waist as he grunts—tasting himself on your tongue. its bitter, but with the help of your lip gloss—it turns far more sweet within seconds. feverish breaths ghosts inside each mouth before you watch him reach near the side of him.

grabbing a half filled up bottle of mousseux, he flicks off the cork with a flick of his middle finger. geto’s eyes still closed as he’s delving his tongue right into your mouth.

the merciless smacking of lips grew louder before he pulls away, huffing breathlessly. “wan’ more of a taste real quick, princess,” and it sounds more like a needy plead. you see how flushed his face was, and geto’s eyes dart straight toward your bare chest. the top you wore was pulled down, clinging near the very bottom of your waist. “c’mere..”

and as you lean in, you watch as geto starts to pour down a small stream of champagne all down your chest. right between your tits, cupping underneath your tummy so none wouldn’t spill further down.

he makes sure a few glosses over your pretty round breasts before he grunts, closing the distance between your chest.

geto buries his face in between the valley of your tits, licking it right up. the bubbly fruity taste lingers on his tongue as he laps you up from top to bottom moaning at the spicy sweetness.

a mixture of your skin and champagne—better than any cocktail this club’s ever served.

“f- fuck,” he moans, lying his tongue flat. geto stares at you the entire time too, and his mouth gradually trails it way toward your damp neglected nipples. he cups his lips around the first nipple—slowly transitioning to the next before slurping the drink right off your body.

a tight breath gets caught in your throat as he continues to lick the rainy drops of sugary champagne off your body. geto groans, savoring the taste before with a loud ‘plop’, he pops your tender wet nipple out of his mouth.

there’s nothing but utter lust and infatuation in his eyes—and he then gets up to kiss you. the room’s nearly pitch dark without the help of the dim effulgent red lights that shined against you both. it added to the mood perfectly.

as tongues continue to try to assert dominance, you moan right in the dancer’s mouth, returning the gesture of swapping gauzy strings of gossamer spit.

abruptly though, you pull away, gently pushing geto back against the sofa.

with a raspy ‘ugh,’ geto lands on his back as you give him a light shove. he’s at your mercy, and you stand up from his lap, a wind of confidence coming out of nowhere and nearly pulling you forward.

he stares at you with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, watching you do a figure eight with your body.

“what’s . . this?” he huffs, burly arms stretching over each edge of the sofa. you looked so pretty, eyeing him up and down as he does the exact same to you.

the luminescent lights started to beam on you now, highlighting your curves and entire physique.

“lie back,” you murmur, slowly sashaying toward him. geto runs a hand through his hair, his dick twitching from the cool air wafting against it. you teasingly drag a finger down the scarred middle line of his bare-puffed chest, stopping at a hardened row of his brick-made abs. “i wanna try your little routine.”

“yeahh?” geto snickers, sucking in a sharp breath once you spin around, bending all the way over. the helmet that was still on your head—you put it back on him, watching him scoff at your audacity.

so you stole his profession now, great.

as you’re turned the other way, you slowly wriggle your ass in front of him, putting a hand over your sopping pussy and he kisses his teeth. “tch. don’t tease, sweetheart,” and geto’s allured stare fixates on you the entire time. his dilated irises frantically roamed around every and any part of your body like a laser. “fuck,” he grunts, watching you finally make your way on his lap.

geto’s all submissively underneath you—bare ‘n exposed with his poor tip flushed. its color was a sheeny carmine red that’s akin to a ripe cerise rose.

a few dried up splotches of cum stick near his weighty sides before he shudders. your ass sits on his flaccid dick before you start to move.

slowly,

you’re rutting into him—just like he was to you, grinding back and forth. geto looks so pretty though, underneath you. he’s still panting a bit, sweating bullets as you tease him with your crazed hips.

you weren’t at his level quite yet, but fuck could you move. geto groans, feeling your sloppy pussy rub off against his dick. you were so close to his tip that his foreskin would peel back a bit. “do you wanna touch me?”

touché..

geto narrows his eyes at you as you tease him, repeating his exact words from what he said to you earlier.

he doesn’t just touch you, he fucks you—

but in this case . . you fuck him.

geto holds back a moan as he’s watching his claret-colored cockhead disappear between your sappy folds. it’s like a magic trick, and with a ‘poof!’ half of length vanished within you.

you let off a soft shrilling whine, trying to writhe yourself around his length.

his dick was fat. ‘eyes-rolling-tongue-lolling-drag-your-nails-down-his back-’ type of fat.

and his girth only made things ten times more intense. you felt him rearranging your guts within each prolonged inch you took – literally.

you’re as slow as a snail with the way you try to take him wholly. even as you’re gingerly sinking your bare ass down with his cock snug ‘n deep inside you, he easily kisses against your g-spot.

it’s happening already, and you don’t even realize he’s fully in before a cooing whimper rawly snatches from the back of your dry esophagus. “oh fuck,” you huff, tossing your arms around the dark haired man.

geto’s got the same wide-eye-jaw-dropped reaction to you, and with one arm snaking around your waist—another’s tightly gripping onto your right ass cheek.

he spanks it, giving it a short squeeze afterward. your chest starts to heave in quickened intervals, and once he feels you starting to move it’s game fuckin’ over..

“god, pussy’s ‘ta die for,” he groans, eyes sexily rolling back until his sockets show nothing but white.

you had him whipped, and he can hear your cunt trying to have a word of its own, squelching out cute gargled squelches. you start to ride him at a mere hypnotic rhythm—and geto’s a lot more vocal now.

with his adam’s apple bobbing, both hands of his were now gripping onto your waist now. piles of money surround you too, a few sticking against his sweaty beefy thighs. “fuck me,” he grunts, and it’s more like he’s begging.

geto locks eyes with you, shaggy long bangs running past his eyes before he securely grabs your hips—trying to keep up pace with you. “mhm, thaaa’s it. ride it, ride . . the shit out of me, uuughhh.”

“ ‘m trying,” you moan, biting your lip each time his swollen cockhead plummets its way deep.

he’s just so big—you couldn’t wrap your head around how a guy could be so damn big.

the good kind of big, and each time he’d seep a single girthy inch into you, your stomach would churn like butter. he’s in sooo deep, your legs could barely support yourself anymore and he had to hold you steady.

as he pulls you all the way down, geto reaches waaay inside of your sloppy gripping cunt that’s oh-so desperate to wring him like a vice.

his thick cock greets your pretty fleshy cervix, mimicking a soft ‘knock’ before introducing itself with a welcoming pound.

he holds your hips, pumping himself into you again, and again, until your pussy remembered each stroke, each thrust, each fuckin’ letter of his name—front to last..

slow but fucking deep.

you gasp, clinging onto his neck before soft hurried pants of ‘yeah, yeah’ ‘s scurry past your glossed lips.

geto’s dewy eyes were half lidded and he’s never felt more pussy drunk in his life. trust—he’s had his fair share of women but oh, you were far different. it was something about you, and he just wanted more after each carnal second passed.

you’re so into his dick givin’ your pussy a fuck of a lifetime that you don’t even realize your hand was now wrapped around his thick neck. not too tight, but geto’s reaction time was slow also. once he realizes seconds after you did, he sheepishly scoffs before slyly humming.

“goddd, y’r so fuckin’ hot when you choke me,” he purrs, tugging at the panties that pull to the side of your thighs. of course he’d enjoy it, and as his dick’s still massaging your gummy walls, he moans. “harderrr.”

“don’t be greedy,” you mumble, burying your knees into his bulky thighs.

the way you rocked against him was hypnotic—and geto’s hands remain on your waist.

you nearly shudder, feeling the various cold bands of his rings run and tickle down your skin. he’s in love with your body, and even more in love with the way you feel from the inside.

leaning in close until you’re just inches away from his spit-slicked lips, your thumb runs its way down the bulging ball that lies inside his throat. “say ‘pretty pleaseee.’ ”

“tsk,” geto scowls, and even with a pout he’s effortlessly attractive. your hips continued to champion its way up ‘n down at a deranged pace as you moved, and his cock’s pumping you full over and over and over. with a vexed grunt, he utters. “pretty please, choke me harder.”

leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth, you whisper a crooning, “good boy,” and geto whines the moment you add a bit more pressure around his neck.

his hair’s all in his face, and your ass was just ruthless.

ferociously slamming down onto his stout cock, you’re drenching him from the base down with your syrup-coated slick. a bit of your own sloppy arousal glues against the pried apart crevices of your thighs—pasting against his as well.

it’s a mess, and with how close he was getting, he was about to create an even bigger one..

geto felt like he was ascending—and with how you were riding him, it didn’t take him long before he’s close again.

yet this time—so were you, and you could recognize the feeling all too well. geto’s cock stretched you to capacity, and he grabs the few dollar bills that scatter on the sofa, throwing it at your body whilst you rode him. he makes it rain on you, spanking your ass with a crumbled up hundred rubbing against your stung skin.

“fuck, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum again,” he grunts in your ear, feeling your pace accelerate by a mile. you were draining him, preparing to milk him and the thought of him stuffing your cunt full made you pulse.

your tongue salivated at just imagining it..

the warmth, the stickiness, the way it’d spill between your thighs. you’re moaning out sweet noises yourself as you both rut into each other at a demented overzealous pace. geto’s thick thighs clench—and while you’re letting out cute blubs of his name on repeat until it’s the only syllables your dumb brain could register—he pulls you close. “ngh, same time, pretty girl. cum with me, let’s make a . . hah, mess together.”

“okay,” you mewl out, both hips pivoting in lascivious unison.

both sweaty mounds of flesh blissfully bounce into at other and each squelch makes you whimper out in ecstasy.

you cup geto’s pecs, smearing a thumb over his pierced nipples and he whines instantly. you lean in to suck against the bars that slash through his tender areola. geto leans back manspread, growling out husky, ‘fuuuuck!’ ‘s as you hum, giving both his nipples its few seconds of attention.

it lasts for seconds that felt like years, and one you pull away he lets out a cute blasé huff.

as your cunt’s in the midst of overflowing—your hips tremor once more time before within milliseconds, you both cum.

it’s quick..

and with your jaw dropping and geto’s shoulders fatally sagging after his big, heavy sigh—he starts to fill you up ounce after ounce.

it’s patching hot, and the second he’s beginning to spill ‘n dump out his perfect ivory ribbons of cum inside of you, you grunt out a melodic finishing, “fuuuck.”

swinish, weak hands grab at your ass as you come undone also—whimpering soft defeating babbles from the sensitive feeling of your cunt spasming right between your jittery numb legs.

you feel static … shock, electricity pulsing through your veins all at once. your entire body was turning haywire. as you start to grow limb right with geto underneath you—nirvana runs through each individual axon on your body before you hear a loud ‘pop.’

it’s more of a sopping squishing sound, and you were so dumbed down from his dick that you didn’t even realized how full you were..

peeking down, he filled you to the brim. wads and wads and wads of cum went inside of you and you moan, spreading your ass apart while craning your neck around just to see for yourself.

“ ‘m so full, suguru,” you pant, sliding a thumb down your sputtering cunt that’s plugged with both his cock and his thin oozing seed. you lick your lips before turning back towards geto and he’s absolutely fucked stupid.

you rode him so good to the point where he’s just stammering out inaudible whines. it’s cute, and you lean in to kiss him once more.

oh.. he was hooked.

he deepens with a few clingy hands feeling at your chest. the kiss gets more passionate rather than sloppy, and as he’s still buried inside of your cunt—he slowly starts to trail butterfly kisses down your neck. you moan, turning your head before you pull away. “shit, i almost f- forgot.”

“forgot what?” he hoarsely rasps, watching you unalign yourself, plopping down on the sofa with a big content sigh.

geto leans in, allowing his thumb to draw circles around your hips before you reach in for your purse, pulling out another decorated vip pass.

sheepishly, you utter. “my friends bought me two sessions with two dancers. so i have another one after you,” and you glance at the clock, squinting before you let off a bashful titter. “. . . oh, that was way past thirty minutes.”

“who? what dancer, sweetheart?” geto utters with a pout. he was still aching, already missing his you felt from the inside. he watches as you squint at your pass that reads the dancer’s stage name and / or full name on the back.

“uhh, it says t—”

“she means me,” and the both of you spin heads, ogling at the glittery red carpet and decorated pathway that was once covered up.

you could hear geto that laid beside you muttering out a jealous, ‘fuck,’ as you meet the other dancer’s gaze.

he’s wearing a leopard thong with an added on accessory of the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen.

a slashed scar runs down the right side of his crooked curved lips and you spot bills sticking at both sides of his halfway on thong that nearly shows his sharp hips before he hums.

“name’s toji,” and you’re suddenly being lifted up by strong, tatted brawny arms before he turns around, winking at a very pissed of geto before trodding out the private room with you in his arms.

“i’ll take it from here,” and feral green eyes with an even more feral grin. “ain’t that right, birthday girlll?”

[classyrbf]

SHE'S A SUCCUBUS! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...as a sex demon, she can always sense the horny virgin boy who’s dying to lose his virginity

INFO...choso x succubus!reader, sub!choso, virgin!choso, somnophilia, riding, overstim, creampie, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), slight ass eating, cum eating, doggy, squirting, choso is super needy and eager, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Choso always felt left out when his friend would constantly talk about all the girls they’ve been with, all the experiences they had and what crazy shit they always got into. He’d just sit there, silent. He couldn’t relate to them not one bit. The closest he’s ever to having sex is his right hand or a sex toy. No girl ever looked his way, and his confidence was crushed. They’d only go after his friends, practically drooling over them. Not one of them spared a glance towards Choso.

He was begging to lose his virginity, dying to know what real pussy felt like, how soft tits felt in his hands or even some ass. God, don’t even get him started on wondering what it feels like to receive head. His friends swear it’s the best thing ever as long as the girl knows what she’s doing. He always watches porn, the women on their knees, slobbering all over the man dick like it was some divine dessert. He loved watching the way their pussies wrapped around the mans dick, just imagining how wet and warm it is. He was a lost cause. At this point, he was ready to pay someone to take his virginity. Literally.

And just like any other night, he goes back home, ready to fuck his fist to another average porn video before dozing off to sleep. He’s been extremely horny lately, more than usual and he can’t understand why. Not to mention the wet dreams he’s been having, waking up to cum in his pants like he’s a damn teenager. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, feeling the need to cum more and more everyday.

Hours later, he’s fast asleep, tossing and turning as he has another wet dream of someone riding him. He can’t make out her face, but it feels so damn real. Everything does. Even her moans and the weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hums. His brows furrow. He can even hear the sound of skin on skin. His entire body feels like it’s on fire right now, like he’s been hit with some sort of sex pollen. It’s more intense than ever.

Little does he know it’s not a wet dream, no, it’s you. The succubus who’s been watching him for weeks, feeling his urgency to cum, to lose his virginity. He’s summoned you without even realizing. And now you were riding him, gliding your wet pussy up and down his aching cock while he slept, waiting for the moment he wakes up and realizes he’s no longer a virgin. He twists and turns when you run your clawed nails down his pale skin, smiling at the way he moans and whimpers in his sleep.

Choso couldn’t take this overwhelming feeling anymore, forcing himself to wake up, prying his tired eyes open. But the feeling doesn’t stop. The sounds don’t stop. And certainly the woman is his dreams doesnt disappear when he opens his eyes. “Wha—ah—what? Who…? Oh fuck!” He rasps, eyes darting around the room and over your naked body. “What the fuck? Oh my goddd.” As confused and scared as he is right now, he can’t escape the pleasure coursing through him right now.

“Shhh, shhh, just let me make you feel good. You’ve been dying for this haven’t you? I’m here to give you exactly what you want.” You slightly lean back, spreading your legs to let him get a clear view of the way your pussy sucks his cock in.

He looks at you with awe and confusion, but he can’t help but give in, moaning so sweetly when you fully sink down. “Who…who are you?” He gasps, eyes widen when you clench your pussy around him.

“I know when cute virgins like you wanna lose their virginity. You summoned me, accidentally. You’ve been so worked up lately, huh? Well,” you smile, “that was because of me.” His cock twitches inside of you, your hips bouncing faster and harder, watching the way he mouth falls open.

“Fuck, fuck! It’s feels so good,” he heaves, breathing heavily. His cheeks dusted a light pink. “I don’t wanna cum just yet, please slow down. Please, please—nnghhh, fuckkkk.” Choso didn’t stand a chance, shooting sticky ropes of cum into your pussy, his entire body quivering with how intense his orgasm was. “Please, slow down—ah, oh my god. It feels too good—” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kept fucking him.

“I’ll keep fucking you till there’s nothing left.” You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, placing your lips on his while you kiss him with such fervor, with such sloppiness. His hands reach down, gripping the plush flesh of your ass. He swears he’s in heaven right now. This can’t be real. No way a sex demon was taking his virginity right now. His dick was so sensitive, but still so hard. He knew he had so much cum left, the only thoughts he had were to fill you up over and over until it was dripping out.

He felt like he was losing his mind, fucking him so hard, creating a sloppy mess where you two met just so you can get him to cum again. Your devilish yet sweet giggles send chills up his spine and straight down to his already throbbing dick. With labored breaths, and his heart rattling against his rib cage, he already knows he’s going to cum again. So soon. “Come don’t hold back on me. I want it all,” you growl in his ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to empty you dry and fuck you stupid.”

His trembling fingers grip onto your ass harder as he cries out, broken moans swallowed by your kisses and he can’t help but cum again, filling up your tight pussy to the brim. You pull away from the heated kiss looking at the way his hazy eyes stare up at you with such desperation. You halt the movement of your hips and get up from his lap. “No, no, wait. Where are you going?! Please, keep fucking me.” He sits up, watching you get on your knees. Poor thing looks like he’s almost about to cry.

And now he can get a real good view of you. The tail that swayed around and the small little horns that pointed from the top of your head. You really were a sex demon. Your hand took a firm grip on his throbbing cock, his tip leaking like it was begging you to make it cum again. “I can see your thoughts. Your nasty little thoughts.” You run a long stripe from his balls all the way to his tip, licking the excess cum off. Your tongue was freakishly long, but god did it feel so good on him. You spit on his cock, massaging it in as you stroke him, moving your hand in circular motions that make his hips jump. “Say it. I know what you’re thinking.” Your lips curl into a smirk, running the pad of your thumb over his slit.

“Put…put your mouth on it, please,” he says barely above a whisper, too shocked to even form proper words.

“Louder.” You massage his balls with your free hand, earning a guttural groan from him.

“Please, put your mouth on it! Fuck, I wanna know how good it feels!” His lip quivers, his breathing quickening the closer your lips get.

“Good boy.” You smile, darting your tongue out and wrapping it around the base of his cock, swirling it around the head before you take him in your mouth. You stare at him through thick lashes, bobbing your head up and down his thick shaft, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth. Glug, glug, glug.

The sound of you choking on his dick was like music to his hears, taking his all the way down your throat with no problem. How is he supposed to keep up? His brain is fried and his body already feels so weak from cumming two times in a row. But he can’t stop. It’s like you’ve put some kind of spell on him to make him want more. “Shit, I’m all the way in,” he gasps, fall back onto the pillows. You pull him out of your throat, string of saliva connect from your lips to his cock as you continue stroking him. You were so messy, so nasty, but he loved it so fucking much because this is always how he’d picture it.

You spit back on his cock before taking him down your throat again without warning. “Oh my—fuck me, I’m gonna fucking cum again!” He whimpers. His body jolts and his abs tense up at the sensation, pleasure shooting through his body like electricity. He’s so sensitive he can’t help it. His hips buck up into your mouth and next thing he knows, he’s cumming down your throat. “Nnngh shit!” He groans, each orgasm more intense than the last. It’s like as time goes on, he can’t help but get more horny, more greedy.

Within seconds he’s pulling you off his dick on bending you over, pulling your ass in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t,” he’s muttering to himself, sweat dripping down his body. He pushes every inch into you with such ease, like your pussy was made for him. “Feels so good, feels so good I can’t stop stop,” he cries, rummaging his hips into you, fucking hard and fast.

“You’re learning so quickly.” You smile from below him, pushing your ass back against his hips. He watches the way your ass bounces back on his dick and he becomes mesmerized. “That’s it! Fuck me harder. Show me how badly you wanna cum in my pussy again,” you giggle.

Choso pushes your head into the mattress, broken moans falling from his lips. “I need it so badly, so fucking badly.” Your pussy grips him like a vice and he hisses at the tempting feeling.

“Make me squirt all over your cock! Come on, fuck me like you mean it!” You grip the sheets below you, feeling his swollen head press against your sweet spot over and over with each grueling thrust. Upon hearing your words, Choso remembers all those videos he’s watching of girls squirting, and to make you squirt just because of him makes his brain fuzzy. He keeps the same pace, huffing and panting when your pussy grows tighter. “Yes! Yes!” You laugh, sighing in relief when he pulls out and clear liquid shoots from your pussy, coating his cock and sheets.

His eyebrows raise in amazement. “Holy fuck,” he watches the way your pussy leaks before urgently ramming his cock back inside of you. “Do it again. Squirt all over me again! Please! It’s so fucking hot!” He begs as he pounds your pussy like his life depends on it. “Wanna watch you—nnngh—squirt again!”

As if on cue, your pushy gushes around him again, soaking his thighs and his cock and just the sight of it makes him cum so hard he’s toppling over you. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” He thrusts deep inside of you, making sure not to waste even a drop. “Yes, yes!” He huffs, bucking his hips. “I need to taste you, need to fucking—mmm.” He drops to his knees, pulling your ass back against his face while his tongue slurps every drop his cum and your juices, licking through your sloppy folds and sucking on your clit.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you? Such a good, good boy.” You praise, reaching behind you, taking a fistful of his hair and pushing his face deeper into your cunt. His moans at your taste, his free hand reaching down to stroke his swollen and sensitive cock. He moves his tongue up and down, running back and forth between your clit and your ass, and back down to your hole. You quickly pull him away before sitting up.

“Did I do something wrong? Why’d you stop?” He looks at with sad eyes.

“You’re done.” You look down at his cock.

“No, no, I’m not. I promise I still have more. Just keep fucking me, let me eat your pussy or something! Don’t leave!” He pouts, watching you crawl towards him.

“As much as I’d like to keep playing with you, you’re all out of cum, pretty boy.” You smirk. “I’ve got other desperate virgins like you to attend to.” You ghost your lips over his and Choso leans in for a kiss but you pull back from him. “You’re welcome.”

You disappear into a dark corner in his room, like you faded away into it. He runs to turn on his light and sees you’re completely gone. He’s at a loss for words, standing in the middle of his room completely naked. He looks towards his bed, seeing the wet spots you had left. So it was real? No? Yes? He didn’t know what to believe. He accidentally summoned a sex demon to take his virginity. If only he could do it again.

[cntloup]

Gojo Satoru x pregnant!reader

protective!Satoru, fluff, a lil angst, mention of feeling guilty, implied heavy symptoms experienced by the reader

"it's ok, baby. i've got it." Satoru says as he approaches your slouched form over the sink, washing the dishes as you try to get something done and make yourself useful.

you've been feeling guilty during the past month or so, feeling like you were a burden to him, thinking that you would never live up to his expectations. now he has to take care of you. and as time goes by, it will get even worse as your pregnancy progresses. but he's a busy man with heavy responsibilities. you'd be only holding him back. you torture yourself with these thoughts every day.

"oh, thanks. i'll go clean up the living room and do the laundry then." you respond with a forced smile, trying to mask the guilt that's been gnawing at you for a while as you try to keep yourself from falling over out of dizziness.

"what? no, wait! i'll do it after i wash the dishes. you go get some rest. you've done enough." he retorts while gently grabbing your arm, voice slightly raised to stop you immediately.

he is in utter disbelief at your behavior. you should be resting right now, tucked in beneath the soft sheets peacefully. you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about anything, he thinks.

"i haven't done anything all day." you utter in a faintly frustrated tone, mostly at yourself.

"and that's exactly how it should be." he replies with a nod, "now go to bed before i drag you there myself." he adds, maintaining a playful tone, a soft smile adorning his features as he drinks in your beauty. you're already glowing. but considering how observant he is, he senses your discomfort immediately like he can actually feel the gloom and sorrow you're feeling right now like a mother hen.

"what is it, baby? tell me." he murmurs as he walks up to you and pulls you into him by your hips, shining blue eyes staring at you as he awaits a response.

his hand rests on your side as the other cups your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek that could be dampened any moment now as you feel tears threatening to spill.

"i'm so sorry." you whisper breathily, voice slightly quivering with the lump in your throat as you look up into his glowing eyes.

"for what?" he asks, confusion evident on his features.

"for being weak. i'm so sorry to disappoint you." you finally spill out the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest as the tears cascade down your glossy eyes.

"disappoint me? i don't understand... why are you crying, love?" he mutters with a shake of his head, his confusion growing even more by your words as his fingers swipe over your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears.

"you're literally the strongest and you're stuck with me. i'm barely even showing yet and i'm feeling extreme fatigue. i've been sleeping all day for the past month cause i can't do anything. and because of the symptoms, i'll probably have to quit my job." you ramble about the thoughts that have been pulling you down all this time.

"wait, wait, wait! how long have you been feeling like this?" he questions with widened eyes baring into your soul.

"eversince we found out i was pregnant. i can't stop feeling guilty about disappointing you." you reply quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. of course you know you're being irrational. it's all natural to be tired during this time and need help, but you just can't help it.

"you've been feeling like this all this time and you didn't tell me anything?" he blurts out almost too aggressively to his liking, "sorry. didn't mean it to come out that way." he quickly apologizes after witnessing the slight flinch on your part.

how could he not see it? you've been trying to do the chores like regular, pushing yourself to your limit both in the house and on your job until he swoops in and takes the weight off your shoulders. now he starts to blame himself for not finding out sooner and letting you wallow in your own sadness and guilt all alone.

"you're not weak, baby. you're doing the one thing that i can't possibly ever do. the one thing that the strongest can't do. and what does that make you? huh? you're literally the strongest of all, babe. i can't even fathom what you're going through and you're doing amazing-", "i'm barely functioning." you cut him off.

"i'm not done yet, babe." he says playfully before continuing, "you're doing amazing, honey. you sleep not because you can't do anything else but because you need it. you're carrying our child for fuck's sake. a literal human's life is growing inside you and of course it takes its toll on you. and i'm right here beside you every step of the way." he finishes his loving speech with a tender kiss on your forehead as his strong arms wrap around your now slightly shaking form as you sob, utterly moved by his words and also the hormones.

"thank you, Satoru. i really appreciate it. you always know what to say when i'm feeling down." your words are cut off by loud sobs but he patiently waits for you to finish as he rubs your back soothingly while nuzzling his face in your neck.

"any time, baby. i love you." he whispers in your ear, "i love you too, toru." you say back, continuing to sob in his arms for a while before you eventually calm down and he guides you to bed, encouraging you to take some much-needed rest.

"and don't worry about your job. you can take some time off or quit altogether. i have more than enough to pay for our family and the next generations to come-", "ok, stop bragging!" you chuckle, "i'm just saying, baby. i've been dying to spoil you. now's my chance. let me take care of you. you don't have to go through this alone. in fact, i won't even let you." he chuckles lightly and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling away with a loud smack as you both lay in bed, limbs tangled together, "you already spoil me." you mention with a slight pout, "and i'm gonna do it even more. you deserve it, baby. don't worry about anything. i've got it." he says while softly caressing your cheek, admiring your glowing beauty illuminated by the faint bedside light.

you slowly start to feel the sleep creeping in and drift away into a slumber as you mumble a quiet 'thank you', curling into Satoru's side as he holds you so lovingly while you think to yourself how you've been blessed with the best, most loving and supportive partner anyone could ever ask for.