#it's hard to think you were just a man... you seem like a divinity of some kind

[hooked-on-elvis]

[pseudowho]

Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Nanami Kento glory hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Corporate!Nanami (before return to sorcery), falling in love with a stranger, hand jobs, blowjobs, fingering, excessive cum, creampie, anonymous PiV sex, tiny bit angsty if you squint

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"How much do they pay you here?" A deep voice, smooth, but rusted with whiskey and smoke.

Your eyebrows raised spontaneously; kneeling down behind your black screen and hole, you didn't necessarily expect the small-talk with your clients to be romantic, but such business-like enquiries did not suit the tone, either.

Regardless, you would accept almost any pay, to find somewhere clear of the monsters that plagued you; the monsters that had chased you from job after job after job. None had followed you here tonight, it seemed, so you answered, trying to sound light-hearted.

"About industry average, I think."

A huff, the man's voice now bitter; "After they skim the majority off for themselves after your hard work, though."

You shrugged, as if he could see. He hadn't even begun to hook his cock out yet, so all you could see was a pair of lean, long legs in a black pinstripe suit. You found yourself tickled by your interaction beginning with anti-Capitalist outrage, and you quipped.

"Great pension plan, though."

"I somehow doubt that."

You laughed, musical and sweet, and were satisfied to hear another huff, the barest hint of laughter from your stranger, before his voice toned lower, his words for your ears and yours alone.

"Well...though I'm sure you deserve better than this place, I'll make it worth your while. I have to get back to work, and I'm sure you have bills to pay."

Beautifully veined, thick, long hands had begun to undo his belt, and you felt a strange thrill of excitement that you didn't feel with the other men. He sighed, unzipping, hooking out a long, thick, pretty cock that looked painfully hard and weeping pre-cum.

"I can't concentrate like this, I'll just...get this poison out and then I can focus."

He sounded almost apologetic, his words dripping with loathing in a way that made you frown. You reached one finger out through your hole, beckoning, tender as you whispered.

"Well, I can help with that."

Your stranger had grasped his cock to direct it through your glory hole, but hesitated at your tone, as if the tenderness you gave him was an odd specimen, requiring examination before he could accept it.

The tip of his cock, pink and full, nudged against your cheek and nose as it pressed through the hole. You heard your suited stranger hiss and shudder. You couldn't help but be impressed by your stranger's size, spitting onto the tip before beginning to stroke him in long, languid, practiced strokes.

"How do you hide this beast when you get a boner at work--"

A huff again, almost amused, drawing out into a ragged, needy groan. His fingertips pressed on the board on the other side, white-knuckled, his voice straining as he tried to speak past the pleasure of your pumping hand.

"--sit-- sit at my desk...hoping it'll go away-- fuck, you're good...just help me, please...pay you well, just-- just get it out and I'll head back--"

Your suited man groaned again, deep and fractured as your hand picked up its pace. When you spat on his tip again, your lips ghosting against him, he bucked involuntarily, cursing and apologising under his breath. When you drew the flat of your tongue across his slit to taste the salty pre-cum there, he almost whimpered with divine agony.

You felt a squirm of pleasure in your belly, sure that his beautiful voice alone could form the soundtrack you could orgasm to, night after night.

"You sound like you should have a girlfriend to help you with this." You bit your lip, satisfied to hear how his cool, bored tone had broken into something altogether more desperate.

"--sh-shit, u-ungh...any woman deserves better...better than anything I can offer-- f-fuck, I'm close already--"

You felt it; his balls were too big to fit through the hole alongside his cock, and they looked heavy, aching, his body struggling to draw them up as your suited man threatened to spill in your hand after a single flat minute. You whispered to him, soft in a way that offered him an intimacy he was clearly desperately lacking.

"Stop hating yourself when you should be coming in my hand, big guy."

When his knees buckled against your wall at you cuffing the base of his cock with your other hand, making the veins stand proud, you knew he was crumbling.

"--a-agghh fuck-- come too hard if you-- if you keep that up...shit, like a cock ring, I..."

You hoped that when he came, some of his abject self-loathing would pour away, too. His groans were rapidly turning into short little growls, the screen shaking as he bucked into your fist with such desperate force.

"--f-fuck, good girl, perfect...unnnhhh, perfect...shit, I'm...I'm..."

"God, you really do need thi--"

Your voice broke off with a squeak to feel a veritable fountain of cum spurt over your face, stripe after stripe of thick white release spattering over your cheeks, flooding down your hand and chest.

"O-oh-- wow--"

Your mouth dropped open in shock as your suited man grunted and cursed through his orgasm, his balls heavy and twitching, and you tasted a drip of his seed trickle down your nose and onto your tongue. Musty, sweet; nothing like its thickness would suggest.

His cock twitched for what seemed like an eternity in your hand, as you stroked him down from his peak, so covered in cum that you considered you may have to call it a night to go home and shower. As his groans faded, his voice ragged, you felt the guilt and shame radiate off him in waves.

"Shit, that was...ugh, I'm sorry. It's disgusting, I'm sure."

"It's absolutely not. I'm just...wow. Do you always come that much?"

A pause, guilty again as his voice rumbled; "...yes."

You laughed, and his cock twitched in your hand. He chuckled, warm and gravelly, when you pressed a cleaning wipe out through the hole.

"See you soon?" You asked, strangely hopeful.

"Not soon enough." He answered, soft in a way that surprised himself. His voice dropped an octave as a roll of bills pressed through the hole to you. "Here...keep it quiet. They're taking advantage of you."

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You were prepared, the second time your suited stranger visited. Having required an early finish and a shower two nights before, covered with an obscene amount of cum, you blushed to recall that you brought your vibrator to the shower with you, climaxing against the wall to the memory of his velvety voice.

You hoped he couldn't hear the faint buzzing between your legs on your side of the wall. You squirmed, muffling a moan around his cock head as you prepped him, your lips stretched and glossy with pre-cum.

"-h-haaaah, god, you...you're wasted here-- feel so pathetic-- no stamina with...with a mouth like that around me-- o-oohhh...fuck..."

You released him with a wet little pop, feeling your own pleasure building with the insistent buzz against your aching clit. He seemed just as happy to have your hand, and you admired the little neat trail of honey-blond pubes at the base of your fist as he fucked into it.

"Yeah, well...you're wasted too, at that company, by the sounds of it."

"Mmm...feels like what I deserve--"

You cut him off with a tongue to the underside of his cock, his voice fracturing into growled curses and hungry moans again.

"I already told you, if you talk about yourself like that again, I'll make you come faster--"

A breathless, rumbling laugh; "You're a monster."

You whispered, your breath ghosting against his cock head just enough to make him shudder; "Plenty of monsters in this world, beautiful man...but not me."

Your suited man stopped arguing with you, losing himself instead in the way your mouth, hot and suckling and eager, drew him in deeper with every bob of your head. The gasping, husky cry he made when his tip curved round the back of your throat, sent a burst of pleasure through you that had you humping your vibrator involuntarily.

Between his gasps, his vision fizzling with pleasure, you heard him hesitate, his voice barely above a whisper; "What's...that buzzing noise, I-- do you have...back there, are you--"

Barely pulling back, approaching the climax you tried to muffle as you pumped his base with your hand, you moaned, sweet and sinful around his cock head; "B-brought my vibrator...hope you don't mind--"

"Oh-- fuck-- FUCK--"

You squeaked, your orgasm muffled by the cum that flooded your mouth and tongue. As your pleasure threatened to make you convulse, you pushed forwards instead to take the rest of what he offered down your throat, and you lost sight and sound for an indeterminate amount of time, blinded and deafened by thigh-trembling ecstasy.

Swallowing, gasping, and fumbling a hand in your underwear to pull the vibrator off your overstimulated clit, you babbled at him, apologetic.

"S-sorry, hard to--to get guys off sometimes-- without a bit of a hit myself--"

"Fuck, don't talk about other guys when you just came with my cock down your throat."

You giggled, breathless, hearing your suited man pant as he came down from his high. When he removed his cock from the hole, a long, beautifully crafted thumb and forefinger reached hesitantly through instead, and gently pinched your chin.

You pressed a lingering, affectionate kiss to the pad of his thumb as it swiped over your lower lip, and you felt your heart thud to hear such a delighted, satisfied hum from him. He opened the palm of his hand, surreptitious, and your stomach twisted to see an even thicker roll of bills than before.

"...you don't...don't have to--"

"I want to, I...I meant it when I said you're wasted here. They're monsters. Animals."

You took the money with a heavy heart, pressing another kiss to his palm, and leaving your whispers there with it;

"Scarier monsters than them in the world."

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A black dog hunted your suited man, the next time he came to you. You felt it snapping at his heels, and when your stranger approached, it was to sit with his back against your wall, instead. You saw the briefest flash of a thick, corded neck, broad shoulders, a neat blond undercut. He was quiet for a few minutes, before you spoke, soft.

"...hey, you. I missed you last night."

He scoffed as if he didn't believe you, and you reached a hand through, poking him briskly on the shoulder.

"I mean it." Another pause, and you swallowed. "Do you...did you want to...?"

"I...I just want to talk. I'll still pay."

"I'd talk to you for free."

A further silence from him, your warmth a balm for his fractious self-loathing. His next words hung heavy with the weight of the world.

"When will we rest, do you think? When will it end?"

Your eyelids fluttered, looking down in thought. Your fingers stroked over the pad of his suited shoulder. You thought of how you'd been late to your gloryhole, that evening, your usual path blocked by some stop-motion atrocity, an eldritch horror only you could see, and you swallowed hard.

"...I don't know. It doesn't feel like it ever will."

A soft sigh, his voice rich and smoky; "I hesitate to ask what your particular burdens are, to have led you to a pit like this."

You felt tears prickle on your lashes. Taking a deep breath, and tippy-tapping your fingers on his shoulder, you tried to remain upbeat against the rising tide of misery.

"H-hey, it's not all bad. I got to meet you, after all."

"If that's your greatest joy, I pity you."

You winced. Your suited man jumped, when your hand gripped his shoulder with beseeching fervour, his own hand slowly coming up to overlay yours, dwarfing it in his palm. He tensed, unsure. When you spoke it was with the certainty that he needed to understand you.

"Get your tie off, and tie it around your eyes."

He was silent, stunned, his voice brittle as he replied; "...excuse me?"

"Just do it. Blindfold yourself. Then come here."

A moment of hesitation again...then a groan, surely older than he was, as he moved. You heard the silken friction of his tie being undone. You felt the anxious tension radiating off him, and you closed your eyes, eager not to ruin this mystery for yourself.

"Alright...if you insist."

When his voice sounded again, you felt his breath across your lips, inches from each other at the hole in the wall. You raised your hand up, feeling his shudder as your fingertips examined his face as though you were examining a sculpture; and, a sculpture he could have been, with high cheekbones, a thick squared jaw, narrow soft lips. You smiled, your eyes still closed.

"You're too handsome to leave here without a kiss."

Your suited man was silent, but you felt his breath hitch and his heart stutter.

When you finally pressed your lips to his, he moaned with ecstasy, just as he did when you pressed your lips to his erection. Though you took the lead initially, with your lips softly parting his until you could taste him, your permission imbued him with a bravery and confidence he hadn't revealed to you before.

He took charge, and kissed you like a man starved, his evening stubble rasping across your chin, nose against nose. His tongue trailed with a rusty shiver over your lips.

"F-fuck...you taste good...I-- ungh..."

He broke off to you biting his lower lip softly between your teeth, drawing him back in until your lips melded closely enough for you to suckle on the tip of his tongue. He moaned again, desperate and stuttering in his chest. You heard the brush of his palms pressing against the other side of the wall, desperate to cup your face and tilt his kisses down your throat.

Your mingling breaths tasted sweet, so indescribably erotic in its simple intimacy as you pulled away. You fought against the desire to open your eyes, instead biting your own lip, your brow furrowed against your own stupid decision. You whispered, to a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, from your suited man.

"And I'd do that for free, too."

It was the most he had ever paid you, that night, for the simple intimacy of a conversation and a kiss.

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Not a single solitary man visited your gloryhole the next night. You fizzled with worry, as man after man appeared to loiter near you, before choosing someone else; anyone else. It didn't make sense-- even your regulars would be heard mumbling nearby before walking away from you.

You felt a clench of worry; the managers would still pay you, you were sure...but not if it continued.

You felt almost lightheaded with relief and something deeper, when a familiar voice graced your wall near the end of your shift.

"Are you lonely, in there?"

You felt a frisson of joy, and you knelt upright, grinning, your heart fluttering.

"Not anymore."

There was a momentary pause, and you felt the words that your suited stranger wanted to say, stuck, gated by his teeth. Eventually, when he spoke, it was strained, as if fearful of damaging the sprouting intimacy between you both.

"I've...been thinking a lot, recently. About what's fair."

You blinked, unsure, but answered anyway. "Oh?"

"It's not fair that I have to do a worthless job for people I hate, just to earn enough money to retire young. It's not fair that you're here, selling your body to make a living. It's...its not fair that it's only me being pleasured."

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks, feeling him err against what he wanted to say, and he continued.

"I...would like to do something for you. For...for both of us. At the next window."

Oh. The next window. The curtained table, upon which you could lie your lower half, for a man to use the deepest parts of you for his own pleasure. If any other man-- any other man, had asked this if you, you were sure you'd have hated yourself for it. And yet...

"I...I've never done...that."

"I'm...I'm glad, I...I hate myself. For using you, and how other men would use you, and I'd like...to give you better. To treat you as you deserve. God knows, I'd like to tell you to walk away from this shit hole altogether but that's ignorant of me, so I...just for tonight, I--"

"Okay."

You almost clapped your hands over your mouth, your acquiescence so natural that it shocked you. Your suited man seemed surprised, too, and you could almost smell the thudding scent of testosterone from his body as it readied itself for the primal promise of spilling inside your core.

"Yes? You...are you sure?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life, actually. I...I'll come round."

"Fuck, I...I'll be waiting. Nobody else can-- fuck."

You stood on shaky legs, suddenly self-conscious. Arriving at the table, you took a deep, trembling breath, before starting to strip. You heard heavy, pacing footsteps; more mumbling; a snapped, deep, possessive response.

"This one is mine."

You bit your lip, muffling a laugh at your suited man's immediate dismissal. By the skittish footsteps of the rebuffed other man, your suited stranger was not one that other men would choose to fight. You spoke up, your voice smaller than usual.

"Alright, here...here I come."

Reverent silence hung in the air, as fine as spun gold, when you finished moving your bare lower half down the table. Self-conscious, with your hands pressed over your face in blushing mortification, your thighs and knees remained clamped together.

You heard slow, deliberate footsteps towards your body, as if your suited man had forgotten how to walk. His voice spilled forth, full of sighs.

"Exquisite, I...god, I don't deserve this."

You could have cried for him. Sick of his apparent self loathing, you stretched one foot out until your toes pressed against rock solid abs beneath a pressed, twill shirt. You felt another blush rock your system, not expecting your suited man to be quite so buff.

A large, warm hand grasped your foot, stroking up your arch, your ankle, your calf, and settling with a squeeze behind your knee. When his other hand began to mirror the first, both of your knees now bent and pressed together in his grasp, you heard him whisper as he held you.

"I'll cover you," he promised, ragged with need, "with my body, I...I'll keep you hidden. Keep you safe."

"Thank you."

"Do you trust me?"

"One hundred percent."

A pleased rumble. "Good girl."

Softly, tenderly, two great hands stroked up the sides of your thighs, gliding around your hips with his shuddering groan. Your suited man's hands felt like liquid sex, turning every patch of skin he touched into an erogenous zone.

By the time his thumbs had begun to trace up and down, up and down the V shaped creases of your mound, you squirmed in his grasp, heat pooling in your belly. He chuckled, his thumbs stretching up to massage circles on your lower belly, warming you before he filled you.

"Does that feel good?"

"So good," you whispered, struggling to remain bashful with his obvious adoration.

This warm-palmed massage, from belly, to V, to thighs, to hips, and back again, melted you. Your thighs began to part, your code cracked, without you even noticing. When he settled his hips between your thighs, you moaned involuntarily, and felt his mouth, familiar only to your lips, begin to trail kisses along your ribs, your breasts hidden by a thin black curtain.

He appeared to resist temptation, nipping along the marks left by your bra beneath your breasts. Though outwardly calm, his hands grew ever tighter, shockingly strong and needy on your hips, and you could feel how ragged his breaths were against the soft wet suckling marks left by his mouth.

You had never felt so worshipped, and your suited man seemed determined to know you before he buried himself inside you. The only natural response to those strong hands beginning to creep up the inside of your thighs, was to offer him the treasure he sought, by opening your thighs completely to him.

"Please, can I...make you come on my fingers?"

At this point, you'd have to beg him not to stop if you opened your mouth, and instead locked your thighs around his hips so he couldn't escape. That deep chuckle again, this time against your sternum, and he kissed you in reward.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I won't, I-- o-oooh...my...haaaah..."

His fingers, wet with his spit, had slid between your folds, two of them teasing around your entrance while his thumb circled with blissful ease around your clit.

Utterly unafraid of playing you like an instrument, he massaged your little bud until the noises you made were to his liking. You whimpered to feel the insistent press of his two thick fingers, and his murmured growls, add to the fold.

"Fuck, you're...perfect. Get you ready...or I won't fit...fuck..."

Within seconds, he had found your spongy soft spot, turning your moans guttural, making love to you with his fingers before he took you. Your suited man was certainly no boy, responding to every moan, and every whimper, with the surety needed to take you to orgasm.

Only the tenting press of his cock, harder than ever against your inner thigh, gave away how well he was controlling himself for your sake. Already at the edge, you tumbled into completion when one beautiful, fine boned hand slipped under the curtain to cup your breast, to the tune of his hushed curses.

"Come for me, my love."

As if he hadn't noticed you were already arching, mewling, and fucking yourself down on his fingers, halfway through your peak. He stroked your inner walls as if to comfort you, shushing you, soothing, until your quivering pussy stilled around him. You heard the clink of his belt, your head spinning to remember that the best was still yet to come.

"Beautiful girl...sound so pretty when you come. I...I'll pull out--"

"--don't you dare."

The strangled noise that left him, and the way you felt a spurt of pre-cum spill onto your belly, signalled a farewell to his restraint. You squeaked to feel him bracket two thick, strong arms beneath your thighs, bracing you for the way he was about to take you.

Jolting into place, his cockhead nuzzled between your folds. He appeared to be needing nothing but ragged, shallow thrusts to pleasure himself against your oversensitive clit, his lovely voice speaking as if to himself before notching at your entrance.

"--s-so long, it's been...been so long...worth the wait, for you, though, sh-shit...augh..."

He entered you with one deep, smooth press, shushing you again with a tender grasp, and little shallow rocks to kiss his tip against your cervix. He felt absolutely enormous, squeezing himself into you until every little ridge within you shaped to him, hot and wet. You babbled, your words shooting through him like knives.

"--oh m-my god you feel so good so so good so big-- barely fits, o-ooohh--"

When you gasped with the sudden fullness, one of your hands flew down past the curtain to hold your lower belly, and something in your suited man snapped. He laid one hand over yours, pressing it down hard on your belly, before cursing a half-hearted apology, and taking you with the desperation of a man possessed.

Three strokes, deeper, and deeper, and deeper, sent him roaring into a frenetic pace. Your hand clasping your lower belly had sent him spiralling. If his other hand hadn't held your hip so tightly, you'd have been fucked up the table.

And despite the mind-numbing force of his thrusts, you still, with every scrap of you, knew that he was making love to you, and not just fucking you. It made no difference, in the end, your voice growing in volume until it was nothing more than whimpered, mewling cries, only wishing you could have a name upon your tongue instead.

Stilted with the force of his thrusts, he blessed you with it.

"Say...say my name..."

"I will I will just give it to me gimme your name--"

"Kento--"

"--o-ooohh, f-fuck, Kento, harder--"

The cry that left his chest was visceral, animalistic, wrenched out of him with the same sudden finality as his orgasm. You felt him fold over you, his hands gripping your ribcage, his cock jolting and twitching within you as the heavy, obscenely long ejaculation that you knew so well, filled your pussy instead of your mouth.

"--unh...unh...haah...aaa-aahhh never...never gonna come like that-- e-ever again...that was it, that was the...the one that'll end me-- fuck...darling..."

Your suited man's bucks grew lazy, his torso almost completely blanketing yours, humping away the last vestiges of his orgasm. He stayed nestled within you, unwilling to let you go yet. You reached through the curtain, stroking a hand through his hair, and hearing him purr.

"...Kento, huh?"

He huffed a laugh. "Sorry, I...was that too intimate?"

"That? You're worried that was the intimate part?"

He laughed, rich and deep and genuine, kissing your ribs once more. You heard him reach into his pocket, and you spoke up, immediate.

"I won't let you pay me for that--"

"--I absolutely fucking am--"

"--no you are not--"

After he won the argument, and left with heavy reluctance, your manager pulled you aside with a dirty grin.

"You were popular tonight. How many men? Ten? Twelve?"

You blinked, confused.

"Just...just the one. Right at the end."

Your manager shook his head, turning back to the TV in his grubby little office, his fingers orange with Cheeto dust. Your brain ticked, and whirred...all the mumbling outside your gloryhole. All the murmurs, men almost visiting before moving on...and it clicked with absolute certainty.

Your suited man had guarded your gloryhole all night, paying other men to choose another woman. To choose anyone but you.

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"I worried you wouldn't be here."

You swallowed, sniffling, and settling behind your wall. More terrible monsters had settled around the building, blocking almost every pathway in, and you knew that you'd have abandoned your shift and run home to hide, if not for the hope of hearing your suited man again.

"You're...crying, my love, why are you crying?"

You felt him stiffen against the other side of the wall, at the sound of your sniffle, and his hand automatically reached through to cup your face, his thumb swiping away your tears. You turned your cheek into his palm, holding his hand against you.

Your gaze turned to the doorway...and to the bug-eyed, many-armed, puce coloured spindly monster leaning around it to stare at you.

You shrieked, crashing against your wall in terror. Your suited man took in a sharp breath, and the normal chatter and movement of the room quieted at your cry. Your suited stranger grasped your hand hard to hold you still, and his voice dropped to a horrified whisper.

"Stop-- oh, fuck, I understand-- your monsters-- can you see that? That thing in the doorway?"

Time slowed. Your jaw dropped. Your voice was thick, quiet, your insanity validated for the first time in your life.

"Kento, you...see it too?"

"Oh fuck. This...this is why you're in this place? Never been able to hold down a job, no? You've never felt safe anywhere?"

You could do nothing but weep into his palm, nodding, and nodding, and nodding. His voice rang, deep and commanding and final.

"I've got you. I...I've got you. You're safe. Just come with me."

"Kento, I can't just walk out--"

"You can. You don't need money. I've got enough. You just need...you just need me. I'll...I'll tell you everything. I'll explain everything."

When your face, tearstained and sniffling, leaned around the edge of your wall, you froze. Kento froze.

The silence was thick with wonderment, already in love before you had even seen each others' faces. But now that you saw him (obscenely handsome, tall, kind-eyed and exhausted), already overwhelmed, a sob bubbled over--

"Oh, god, you're so out of my league--"

A scoff, and adoration burning in his tired, under-shadowed eyes. He held out one hand, rescuing you as you'd rescued him.

"Come. I have some calls to make. You can tell me your name over dinner."

Your feet were numb as Kento walked you past the monster, shielding your fearful gaze with his hand. You ignored the shouts of your managers, half-deaf and stunned. In the chill evening air, his arm that was not around you, reached into his pocket, tapping, before holding a phone to his ear.

"Gojo, it's Nanami...why are you laughing?"

[sexbot300]

telling them they have a small dick!

pairing: toji x reader, gojo x reader (separate)

⤷ 18+, MDNI

tw: man-handling, p in v, unprotected sex, power play, cunnilingus, falsetto, huge dick (come on now), mentions of creampie, orgasms, degrading/dirty talk, slight size kink if you squint, text format for gojoe.

a/n: this was so funny to write i cant stop laughing. this was longer than i expected, i will be making a part two with choso, geto, and nanami if asked for. originally it was meant to include them but this is a bit tew long. I actually like this more than anything i’ve ever written before :’) comments r more than welcome thank uuuuu. luv u all xoxo (felt things while writing this, it’s funny that I think it’s my best work)

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Toji ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Reading your diary

Toji Fushiguro pissed you off. There were no ifs and buts or any way around it. As much as you adored being friends with Megumi and spending time near the stoic guy, coming by his house felt entirely dreadful. Mutual friends frequently visited his abode, leaving and visiting often without a sliver of complaint leaving their diction. ‘Maybe I was truly the problem.’ A thought had snuck up in the crevices of your brain until the mental image of why you didn’t come over as often decided to grace you with his presence. A shiver traveled up north of your spine, straightening yourself out mentally and physically. ‘Nah. That doesn’t sound right. I am NOT the problem.’ 

Toji was everything Megumi was not; cocky, arrogant, and trying to start anything with anyone if they remotely looked in his direction the wrong way. Was he hot? Of course. Would you ever admit it to the bastard? Of course, you wouldn’t. This is why what unfolds before you felt as if some cruel divine punishment, curated by the highest demon in the belly that cradled hell, deciding today would be the day to toy with you.

Closing your phone with a little, ‘Ding!’ Megumi had sent a text earlier entailing that something of your belonging had been left behind. Strangely enough, even he didn’t know what it was, which left a question of perplexity. All he knew was that his dad found it and to alert you about it. 

A sigh that had built up in the depths of your chest left, as you stood behind the mahogany-colored door. Praying that Megumi would just give the item so a beeline can be made as far as legs can sprint. Bringing a hand to the door, tapping with a fist, “Megumi? It’s me.”

With a shuffling heard from inside the house, the sound of the door unlocked and a slow swing revealed no one behind it. Stepping inside carefully and scooping out the area, an eyebrow raised as the familiar setting had no one in eyesight. Closing and locking the door behind, your voice even more confused, “Megumi? Hello? I thought you’d be here.” 

In plain eye view, coming around a corner stood the looming presence of a man that was hard to ignore. Leaning up against the counter behind, a protein shake in hand as his body seems depleted from a workout session. Glistening in sweat, he stood there devastatingly handsome. A simple white tank top clung onto his pectorals, highlighting the ridges of his stone-hard abs while the pump of his presumed workout caused his already massive biceps to look the size of planets. His gray sweats hung low off his slim core. He eyed you up and down as if inspecting every single thing about you.

“Oh yeah. My son's little friend was expecting you here.” He spoke in a casual tone, eyes met yours for a split second before eyeing you down in a carnal way.

Standing in place, mentally making note of killing Megumi for not being the one to give you what was missing from his home. Only leaving you to deal with his father.

He gripped something behind him his fingers grazing what seemed to be a bit lightweight. A light thud of a journal hit the island counter that stood between the pair. Eyes glancing down on what was thrown carelessly, the journal looked all too familiar.

My diary– fuck. All forms of color had drained from the hue of your face, replaced with a crimson flush. Frantically blinking up at the journal, your thoughts blared. ‘There’s no way he could’ve read it right?’ Almost sprinting at the piece of media, fingertips yanked it off the island forcibly gluing it to your chest almost to shield it from eyes it doesn’t belong to. 

Eyes darting back and forth frantically searching for relief in such a predicament, in a measly voice, “T-Thank you Mr. Fushiguro, it was very kind of you to give it back. I-I’ll be leaving now.”

He had only watched amused, but it wasn’t stated within his facial expression. If anything his demeanor was calm– his body leaned back at the counter behind him, legs crossed over one another while he wore what seemed to be a completely uninterested face.

“Smart girl. Probably read a lot, huh?” 

Clutching the diary tighter to your chest, almost impossibly close, furrowed eyebrows and a snap of a neck towards his direction. A low, barely audible, “H-huh?” 

“My favorite passage is where the narrator states that, ‘Toji is probably compensating his small dick for huge muscles.’” He chuckled deeply, taking a swing of his protein shake before setting it to the side.

Frozen in place, eyes widened, simply just going quiet. I mean– what could be said? For a moment so intense, all that ran through your mind was complete blankness.

“Kinda find it endearing how the narrator only uses vibrators on her clit because the idea of penetration ‘arouses’ yet ‘scares’ her.”

“Mr. Fushiguro did you r-rea-“ stated in an incredibly shaky voice. Embarrassed, wishing that the ground would do you good bidding and swallow you whole with no hesitation. He still looked calm, ridiculing every aspect of you, his eyes had darkened a bit due to pupil dilation.

Everything felt tense, hot, incredibly warm, a moment of heat transpiring between the two of you as eyes met one another. Except both eyes said a different story. His; was full of something that could only be described that an animal gets knowing that they had successfully captured their prey right where they were needed. Yours; full of complete self-pity, begging to be freed under the gaze of something that will eat you alive and leave no bones.

“Do you think that Toji's character might appreciate the narrator calling him ‘hot but probably hotter with his mouth shut?’” His large arms bulged, and crossed over his chest, enjoying every minute that left you squirming under his condescending gaze. You looked like something had caught your throat and any form of attitude seemed to exist on the lines written in the diary. 

Tilting his head, on cue his hair moved as well, his expression seeming bleak. “Aw, wish I could meet this narrator, express to her how far off she is from the truth. Seems the type to talk a lot but get quiet when confronted.”

With a croak of your throat you managed to speak in a weak voice, “Mr. Fushiguro I am so sor-”

A silky voice met your ears, “Megumi taught me a bit about books. You know what’s funny about narrators sometimes?”

“W-what?” Your voice croaked.

“They’re unreliable.”

“Want to know something else funny?”

Body shifting off the ledge of the counter his bulky body slowly walked, emerald eyes glancing down while you stared up with the most innocent expression. ‘Cute,’ he thought. Staring down, a waft of his natural musky scent hit your nasal passages. He towered right in front of you. His long finger gripped a loose strand of your hair, twirling it mockingly.

He juxtaposed the flustered expression drawn on your face, a grin that stretched from ear to ear, a sly expression painting a look of hunger. “Yeah,” his tongue swiped at his bottom lip, voice dropping a few octaves, “it’s tiny even.”

-

On the checklist of things you hated about Toji, you mentally jotted down that he was a liar. He was a complete liar. 

Knees blown out, nose buried deep into his neatly trimmed pubic hair, lips trying to adhere to a girth that wasn’t friendly to take down, saliva coating your chin and seeping through the cracks of the side of your lips, and mascara smeared down the sides of your cheek. 

Toji was anything but tiny. A huge hand gripped the back of your skull, yanking at the follicles of your hair bouncing your head back and forth on his dick. He had to be 8 inches at least.

Gagging and whimpers filled the air, as you pathetically took down all the length he forced down. Your eyes beaming with tears, while he looked down at yours mockingly. Eyebrows slightly furrowed at the feeling of your tight throat clinging onto his cock like a vice. He smirked staring you down as you struggle to take him in, light pants escaped from his throat as spit slowly exited his mouth, meeting the exposed part of his dick and a part of your face.

“Slow down sweetheart, shit,” a condescending laugh, “I’m not going anywhere.” He hissed in a bit feeling your tongue desperately lap up and down his cock as you took the initiative to get completely lost in the feeling. 

It was all too lewd– he had stopped guiding you by bobbing your head, but kept a firm hold; all you did was suck him as if your life depended on it. His hefty cock felt divine to the tastebuds, weighing heavy down your throat and around your tongue. Frantically allowing your tongue to brush over the large veins running throughout his shaft, your hands jerking off what you could, letting the room fill up with the wet squelches. Moaning onto his cock the vibrations cued a grunt from Toji, sucking his massive tip with a ‘pop!’ He pulled you away, noticing the whine in your face when separated from his dick. He laid it on your face, grin sprawled out. 

“You suck dick good for a girl who only gets off to filthy fantasies about a man who she hates.” 

Panting, studying him while feeling incredibly small under his stare, catching your breath. So perfect, you looked so perfect to him.

“Fuck- I could just cum looking at your face like this,” gripping your hair earning a mewl from your throat, he held onto his dick tapping the tip of your tongue repeatedly, he grinned wider noticing how you desperately leaned into every tap. “Heh, want more huh? Coulda came from your throat, rather fuck it in your little pussy instead. I could tell you were a cock-deprived whore from the start.”

All you could do was blink up at him, gulping at everything he was saying, a new wave of arousal crashing down in your panties. Eyebrows furrowed, keeping steady eye contact with him, he noticed your fucked out expression. 

“Aw? No back-talk? Seem to have a lot to run your mouth about in that little diary, girl. Do you even remember your name? Already trained you well without stretching you out? Or does it make you feel ashamed to be this wet in the house of a man you hate so much? Do you have no shame?”

“I-I’m,” you cleared your hoarse voice swallowing any bit of saliva that didn’t engulf his cock, “not wet.”

He blankly stared down at your face before a loud chuckle eroded from his body, shaking him slightly, “Darling, you’re practically dripping on my kitchen floors. You think I can’t see you clenching your thighs f’me?”

“I-it’s not for y-you, Mr. Fushiguro-“

“Cut the shit, it’s Toji. Stand up.”

Pushing your knees off the position they were in for the longest time, you whined and stumbled while Toji watched amused. Standing on your feet, wobbling, he did the honors of throwing you over his shoulder eliciting a loud gasp as your torso made contact and leaned into his broad shoulders. His fingers lightly grazed your wet folds that leaked through your leggings, causing a slight gasp.

He only chuckled again, walking to his master bedroom. “Not wet, my ass.”

-

You’re not sure what round this was, but being thrown like a rag-doll by a man who easily overpowered every aspect of you was not how you expected this visit to go. He did the honors of prepping you for hours long– edging you and making sure you were on the brink of insanity so taking his cock in would feel much more manageable. At first, you winced taking him in, but the pain subsided once the overwhelming bliss of pleasure overtook all feelings of discomfort.

Toji started by fucking his tip in, rocking back and forth to let you become accustomed slightly. He quickly learned that you were nothing more than a cock-deprived whore.

“T-toji, y-you’re, ah! Breakin’ me!”

“Good.” His face had a wild expression, grinning ear to ear, his long onyx hair clinging to parts of his forehead from sweat while the rest dangled in your face. This man just found his new favorite plaything, he’d be damned to stop this. 

Toji had you mangled in a mating press, feet planted firmly into his mattress, feeling every last bit of dick he could give. Holding your thighs back with large hands, he drilled into your poor cunt, legs hanging off his broad shoulders, the sounds of skin-on-skin vibrating in the room alongside his pants, and your loud moans.

“T-toji, ah! I-I’m sorry, t-too,” a deeper thrust sent a harsh quiver from your lips while his lips dropped low to your ear, “Too! Big! Cant!”

Grunting into your ear, the same smirk plastered on his face. He angled himself even deeper, never stopping the rhythm, slamming his inches into you. All you could do was take it and moan desperately. Head thrown back while eyes rolled back into your skull. 

“Don’t” thrust, “care.” He stated casually in your ear while his voice grew huskier, “Gonna fuck my cum into this lil’ ah, fuck, pussy. Make sure it only learns how to take me in.” He chuckled while he never stopped drilling, he pulled all the way out, leaving only the tip in. Causing you to pant rapidly at the loss of dick, hating how empty yet incredibly full you felt just from his tip alone.

“P-Please, please Toji, please,” fingers dug into his biceps in a fucked out voice, “don’t stop.”

“Aw,” he placed his forehead atop yours, mockingly cooing at the mess you’ve become. “Why should I let you cum?” He whispered now, lips ghosting over your own, “Had a lot to say about me being tiny but your greedy little cunt is both clinging onto me and stretching out. Disgusting girl” 

“I’m so so so so sorry, Toji I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good.” Frantically scanning over his face, your body still throbbing from the positions he put you in. Meanwhile, he felt just as warm to the touch, the feeling of sex coated him entirely his composure not faltering.

Wrapping a strong hand around your throat he tightened his grip as he pummeled right into you at once, body jerking forward at the sudden stretch. A loud gasp and moan abruptly left your mouth. Before he could continue pumping into you, his lips still hovering over yours, he had a cocky smile still etched onto his face.

“Sent Megumi off with his little friends, they’re having a sleepover.” His smirk deepened, “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be proving to me how good of a whore you’ll be for me all night.” He scoffed, “Maybe then in your little diary you can write about how good I fuck you.” He pulled out yet again, suddenly feeling his body weight push off your body entirely, making you whine at the loss of sensation in your cunt and body. In an instant, he flipped you over.

Back arched completely, chest pressed down into the sprawled-out duvet, legs spread out ready for him to obliterate all self-dignity you had left, his knee pushed into the bed behind you. Placing his socked foot in the back of your head, he gripped his cockhead dragging it along your puffy folds. Moaning slightly at the feeling of contact as he circled his massive tip around your clit, your eyes fluttered shut again. Drool seeped through the sides of your mouth not caring that this man had stolen all sense of respect you once held for yourself.

“Now,” his voice husky again grunting as his cock slowly teased at your entrance before shoving it in at a tantalizing pace. Staring in awe at your hole as it glistened, hearing your cunt squelch around his thick width, “Hear her for me?” Physically tightening at the words he just said, he let out a slight grunt.

“Mhm,” you let out a mangled noise which caused him to chuckle, feeling his foot press deeper onto the back of your head while your fingers desperately gripped at the sheets below. 

“Maybe,” he pushed himself in, a wild smile on his face while he heard you whimper below, thrashing around still not used to a length this immense. “You should listen to her more often than that dumb little brain of yours princess.” 

Swiftly gripping your wrist, he firmly pinned it back at the small of your back, while rapidly thrusting in and out all at once. “Ah! Ah! T-Toji… So! Hnghhh, G-Good,” moans incredibly muffled as they were pushed into the sheets, cunt gripping onto him every time he moved in and out.

Grunting at the view of your ass clapping back at his pelvic region every time he drilled inside, your walls trying their hardest to take him. He only cackled before whistling, harshly slamming a hand down on your ass letting it recoil with a red mark left behind.

“Should’ve told you I read that stupid diary ages ago…”

═════════════════════

Gojo ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Failed date

“Ding! New message from ‘toruu.’” The robotic voice announced in your headphones, breaking you from wallowing in your sorrowful haze.

Shuffling in your bed, trying to forget the events that unfolded earlier today, your hand reached out to your nightstand fidgeting around to find your phone. You thought maybe lying down with sad music blaring in your ears would help, but spoiler; it did not. Groaning slightly while your eyes try to adjust to the phone's brightness. A failed date equated to a failed day, lo and behold, your eccentric friend was at your side ready to wipe away any discomfort. 

Shifting your body upwards, a smile couldn’t help but be formed at his words. At the end of the day, the guy was just that, a guy. There was nothing to stress over. Was there a slight skip in a heartbeat hearing Satoru speak fondly upon you? Yes. But that’s all that there was. Risking a friendship with him wasn’t worth it in the grand scheme. He was appealing in all senses, there was no surprise that girls and boys alike flocked to him like candy. Getting laid wasn’t exactly the objective, but hanging onto things that weren’t feasible was. 

Joking with Satoru came second nature, but having him become defensive over a harmless joke startled you a bit. ‘There’s no way he’s acting like this.’ Nibbling at your bottom lip staring at him laughing in all caps. Is he being defensive? Eyes moving back and forth on the screen questioning what to say next, the conversation continued.

Snickering to yourself, ‘Oh, so he IS being defensive.’ The thought danced around in your head, rolling eyes at every other thing he texted. “There is no way he is serious,” mumbling to yourself like a madman in the dead of night alone while speaking to nothing but the screen at hand. 

A light ping indicated that your message was sent, as you glanced at the dots that appeared from his end. Breath slightly hitching at what he stated next.

Eyes widening, breath caught in throat quickly throwing the phone down face first as your face burnt. Breathing shallow breaths to catch up, time felt a bit still before shaking hands gripped the phone, and slowly brought it into your line of sight. 

My God was Satoru Gojo, huge.

His tip was a light dusty pink, almost made to be kissed, forming a beautiful head that had a bead of translucent precum decorating the slit. The shaft was thick, matching his milky pale tone and fading into an ombre ending right where the tip started. His veins were many, mapped out all around his shaft, up and down, a prominent one stood at the center. It looked heavy, he appeared to be standing up in the picture. A white-happy trail formed alongside the end of his abs and faded around into his neatly groomed bush. You blinked slowly, taking in the image of your best friend’s fat cock. He wasn’t lying. At all. He had to be pushing 8 inches and more. This was the image alone, thumb hovering slightly over the video attachment. Feeling your cunt pulsate slightly and clit growing a bit hard, shuffling some more. 

‘I can't be getting wet over my friend. This is so wrong, he’s probably joking too right? Guys do this all the time with their guy friends. Except, I’m not a guy…’

Biting the bullet and taking the initiative, clicking the video attachment was a wrong, wrong idea. Still, in the same position, his gray sweat pushed down his mid-thigh, the flash was strong in the video. In your ears, everything was heard. Still standing erect, you could hear him lightly chuckle, almost as if he was taunting you in the same room. For some reason, the slick heat flooded more, He brought his large veiny hand, placing it side by side with his cock, holy shit, it was larger than his hand. He spoke your name in a sultry voice one that sent waves crashing down your pussy, a voice that you’ve never heard before. 

“You already know how big my hand is, I mean you’ve held it before. Do with that information what you will.” You could hear the smirk in his voice before plopping on the bed before him, a soft grunt echoed in your ears. So his dick was heavy, it flopped straight on his abs which elicited a laugh on his end. 

“Sorry, I couldn't send you it while lying down. It’s a bit too heavy.” With that, the video ended. Gulping and staring dumbfounded, your fingers anxiously wrote whatever they could, trying to keep any semblance of a friendly demeanor. 

Sighing while rolling your eyes at his behavior, mentally sighing that he's back acting like the immature soul he’s always been. Guess, it’s time to rely on the good ol’ vibrator to solve this problem. Knowing him he’d probably hang this compliment over your head for eternity and that was that with this conversation, which is why what he stated startled you a bit.

Staring at the screen once more, feeling a bit anxious about his response. All that could be thought of is if the wrong thing was said to him. He’d be over the moon hearing that his cock is big as fuck, right? Sighing while dropping your shoulders and clicking the side button to shut the phone off, eyes closing once more while the back of your head met the soft headboard. 

“Ding! New message from: ‘toruu.’”

Eyes widening, the heat still pooling in your lace panties, thanking yourself for another failed date. Within ten minutes the phone was chucked out of hand, racing to get ready for his arrival even though it wasn’t the typical hangout.

Slipping on a lacy, cerulean bra and throwing it on, keeping the same undies on having a feeling that the slick wetness would be favored for you both, fixing your hair, spritzing a gourmand perfume, applying a bubble-gum colored lip gloss, and pulling on a light blue hoodie, tight black spandex shorts, with black house sandals. It wasn’t long before a certain man rang the doorbell.

Rushing to the door while maintaining some form of composure and unlocking it to be met with piercing eyes and a shit-eating grin towering over you. He wore the same sweats in the video and a black hoodie that did very little to hide his massive frame.

“Hi,” he stated in his typical voice, eyes looking over his glasses down at your face, as he put one strong arm over the doorframe. “Hello, ‘Toru…” audibly speaking so only he heard, while a light blush scattered across your face.

“Heard your date got canceled or whatever, what a bummerrrrrrr.” He rolled his eyes exaggerating his disdain due to unexpected plans. “Gonna let me in?” His voice stated in a whisper while studying the curves of your body. 

Slightly nodding, shifting to the side to let the tall figure in, a waft of his cologne hit all senses and shot straight to your core. 

While he walked in, your hand pressed against the doorframe closing it and locking it before a large hand turned you around. Gasping at the sudden feel of his hand around your waist, while the rest of your body was pushed against the door. Staring up at his face, not recognizing the look displayed on his usual happy-go-lucky face, painted a darkened expression of desire. Satoru pressed your chest against the front of his body, pushing you closer by the hand on the back of your waist. Caging you in his embrace, the other hand laid flat behind the door.

Smelling his sweet breath from the various candies he indulged in, the air hit the tip of your nose while his lips were merely inches away from your own. 

“No offense,” his voice silky, smooth, and deeper than usual, “Kinda glad this asshole bailed on you. Wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you anyways.” His smile deepened while you responded by cupping his soft face in both hands. 

Breath a bit higher than a whisper, lips almost touching his while his grip on your waist felt stronger, “Oh, yeah ‘Toru, and you know what to do?” 

Feeling a vibration from his chest against your frame, as a laugh erupted from him, he stared into your eyes intensely. “Let me kiss your lips and show you. I think you know by now my words match up with my actions.”

Almost on command, both of you smashed your lips into one another savoring the feeling of tasting what you wanted for so long. Mutually moaning slightly upon the impact, Satoru quickly moved his large hands to caress all over your tinier frame. Ass, waist, thighs, hair, neck, his long slender fingers were everywhere, anywhere, every chance he could get to press you impossibly close to him.

Mouth agape, he took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, slithering it around your mouth while your tongue circled his own. Hands entangled in his hair, tilting your head, and on cue, he did the same. Tongues squelching and roaming each other's mouths as if you’ve been thirsty and the only cure was one another. His hands finally stop at your ass, giving a light squeeze before carrying you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.

Breaking away faces mimicking a blush on both faces, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Slightly panting as your forehead meets his, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Cute and all,” he says still in a haze, “but those weren’t the lips I was talking about.”

-

Hovering over his torso, while your mouth was stuffed with his huge cock. Hungrily lapping up his dick with your tongue, your hand wrapped around his base in a circular motion going up and down while your mouth struggled slightly to take the entirety of him in. Moans sent vibrations across his huge shaft, he was so big, so so so big. You loved every minute of it, it was evident with the sticky residue of cum that formed on his thighs and pubic hair from the previous rounds you’d gone. Saliva pooled on his dick, to rest on his balls and underneath his thighs. 

It was a mess, “Mhm!” You panted, separating yourself from having his cock buried down your throat but quickly attaching your lips at the head, smearing precum on like a lip product. Lapping the precum up and down the slit, before indulging his length back in. “Sa-Satoru- Ah! S-Stop!” Lips making a ‘pop!’ noise after pulling his dick from your throat, hands still echoing a wet sound as they both rapidly jerked him off.

Gojo laid on his back his face stuffed in your cunt, “Cant, ahhhh, too good,” His voice sounding hoarse. Bringing his head up even further into your slick heat, he licked long strips with his tongue from clit, hole, and ass. Both of his large hands spread your cheeks apart, your discharge soaking the bottom half of his face. He dove in head first, nose pressed directly in your pussy while his mouth harshly sucked at your clit, twirling it around his tongue effortlessly. Years of sucking on candy couldn’t compare to this. Pulling away both hands from your ass, he placed them on the front of your thighs, forcing you to sit on his face with a welp that broke away the string of moans.

Continuing to jerk him off, your eyes crossed while spitting down his length, feeling him twitch slightly under your motion. You mewled, “Mhpmh! Satoruuuuuuu!”

Harshly sucking on it before pulling away, he kissed your clit before dragging his head around in a circular motion licking all around like a madman. He closed his eyes and buried his tongue deep in your walls that tightened and contracted around him. Bobbing his head back and forth, tongue fucking your tiny hole, thumb diligently working in circles on your swollen clit. Slowly feeling your high soon approaching in waves and feeling him twitch even more violently underneath you. 

He moaned deep into your cunt while high-pitched yells escaped your throat, “Oh! Oh! Oooooh! Oh, Satoru! I’m c-cumm- ah!” Soon enough, Satoru’s face was full of liquid when your orgasm arrived. Sticking a tongue out noticing him jerk in your hands, closing your eyes, while cum painting your tongue and face. Swallowing him all while quivering from the impact of cumming all over his face.

For once in your life, this was the most quiet Satoru has ever been. 

Breaking away from your cunt, Satoru took a deep breath, laughing to himself shakily.

“Fuck, I should pay men more often not to date you.”

[lesservillain]

dream a little dream of me.

sleep demon!eddie munson x afab!reader

cw: SMUT. breeding kink, monster!eddie, readers body is “changed”(I think thats it?)

You’re tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep thanks to the ache between your legs. You already tried getting yourself off to no avail, so sleeping it off was your plan b.

You didn’t know why you’d been so horny lately. All day you’d be thinking about being taken over your work desk or in the coffee shop bathroom. Wet dreams plagued your mind every night of a beautiful man making love to you had left you with wet sheets from how hot and bothered you were getting even in your sleep.

But no matter how much you tried to satisfy yourself, it just wasn’t enough.

Just as you were about to drift off, the mattress dipping caught your attention. You lived alone, besides your cat, so you just assumed it was them joining you in the bed. That was until it continued to dip, pushing down deep indicating that whatever was on your bed was much heavier than your cat.

You froze in fear, trying to regulate your breathing to make it seem like you were still asleep. Your mind raced as you tried to think of what to do.

“I know you’re awake.”

You stopped breathing. You felt your heart pounding on your chest as you panic.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m not here to hurt you,” the voice said, sounding less distorted and more like the voice of…

Slowly you turned to look behind you. Sitting on the edge of your bed was the man of your dreams. His soft eyes met yours, his smile turning toothy when you realized it was him.

Were you dreaming right now? It didn’t feel like it. Maybe you were lucid dreaming?

You didn’t have much more time to think about it as he placed a hand on your cheek. It felt as if he really were touching you, and you felt conflicted with that fact.

“I missed you, sweet girl,” he coos at you. “I hate it when you leave me.”

He leans down, stopping just short of kissing you. His eyes flash for a moment, looking almost red compared to his normal color.

When you don’t protest, he closes the gap between you, letting your lips slot together perfectly in a deep kiss. His mouth moves against yours and you reciprocate, feeling as if its the natural thing to do.

As the kiss deepens you feel his hands slowly start to roam your body. He feels you up, his hands landing on your breasts, squeezing and fondling until you hum against his lips. The man smiles against you.

He pulls away, lidded eyes stating down at you as his lips start to kiss down your jaw, your neck, between your breasts, down, down, down, until he’s positioning himself between your legs.

“Mmm such a pretty sight,” the man says, looking at your pussy with lovesick eyes. “Prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

He runs a finger through your folds, making you gasp at the sudden contact. He takes his finger to his mouth, his tongue wrapping around it to lick off your juices.

“Mmmm, like the divine nectar,” the man hums. You watch in anticipation as he brings his face closer to your pussy. His long tongue darts out again, your hands flying to his hair as he gets to work opening you up.

All of the times he’s spent with you in your dreams gave him plenty of practice to know exactly how you like it. He lets his tongue flick and rub against your clit as his fingers work diligently inside you. You feel your legs start shake as he brings you closer and closer to your peak.

Just as you feel yourself tipping over the edge, his tongue and fingers switch places. The pads of his fingers rub against your clit roughly as he sticks his long, thick tongue inside you. The muscle penetrates you deep, until you feel him hitting against your cervix.

Your vision goes white, little stars dancing behind your eyes as you cum hard on his tongue. In your blissed out state, you almost dont feel the way something is pushed deeper inside of you. It feels like a slight pinch, but almost immediately after your body feels like it’s on fire.

Whatever the man put inside you with his tongue begins to spread over the walls of your womb, coating it in a thick lining. Any arousal you had in your body was turned up to a hundred as you turn into a bitch in heat. Slick begins to pool on your bedsheets as it leaks from your pussy.

The man watches your body’s changes with delight. He licks his lips at the sight of you, his sharp teeth suddenly very noticeable to you.

“How do you feel?” He asks you, eyes still settled on your soaked cunt.

“H-hot?” You stutter, looking up at him with pinched brows. Was he always naked? Or had you not noticed his huge, hard cock until just now?

“That’s normal,” he says softly. He gently places a hand over your womb, his pointes nails grazing your skin. “How do you feel here?”

You look at his hand on your lower stomach. It’s huge when compared to the size of your body.

“Feels fine, maybe a little crampy?”

He coos down at you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

“That will get better once I’m inside,” he assures you. His hand leaves your stomach to cradle your face lovingly. You lean into his touch, nuzzling against his large palm.

“What-what did you do to me?” The last word came out as a squeak as you feel the tip of his cock slid through your folds.

He leans into you, his hot breath on the bare skin of your neck as he rolls his hips. Once he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve gotten his cock, he finds your entrance and slowly begins to push it inside of you. He feels even bigger than he looks, and you start to panic as he continues to stretch you out. You grab at his broad shoulders and he shushes you.

“It’s okay,” he says, “your body will sense my size and adjust accordingly. Give it just a moment.”

There’s a slight strain in his voice that wasn’t there before. You can see his brows pinching together as the head of his cock nestles against your cervix. He pauses, looking down for a moment to observe how little of him your body had yet to take.

Suddenly, you feel a tingle between your legs, and a wave of slick pushes out of you. Your body felt like a raw nerve, becoming sensitive to even the smallest shift that the man makes. You begin to squirm beneath him out of desperation, seeking any bit of friction to give you some relief.

“Oh, fuck me,” the creature moans above you, watching the way you try and fuck yourself on his cock.

“Can I move?” He whines. “I need to fuck you.”

You realize you’d been staring down at where the two of you connected. When you look up to the creature’s face, he looks just about as fucked out as you feel.

His disheveled hair falls around his horns and into his face. His mouth is slack, his long tongue hanging out between his parted lips. He’s staring right at you, waiting.

“Please.”

You realize he must not be able to move unless you give him verbal permission. So when you manage to squeak out a “yes,” the creature lets out a sigh of relief. A devilish grin spreads across his face as he gets himself situated.

He pulls out of you agonizingly slowly, before thrusting sharply back inside of you. Your legs straighten at the sensation, his cock hitting your sensitive spot with ease and sending a shock wave through your body.

Suddenly you were cumming on his cock, never feeling a sensation like that before. He continued to move, fucking you through your orgasm without slowing down.

Dark tendrils of hair clouded your vision as he brought his lips to yours again. His long tongue began to lick into your mouth, filling it until you felt it trying to breach your throat. The size and thickness of it had you sucking on it out of instinct. The creature seemed to enjoy this, moaning into your mouth in response.

It was almost too much to be so full of this monster. The haze of lust made it hard to tell where your body began and his ended. Every thrust felt like a spark of lightning through your body that traveled to your finger tips.

When the creature pulled away from you, you audibly whined at the loss, even while gasping for air. He leaned back, angling his hips in a new way that had you seeing stars. Your back arched off the bed as you began to cum again.

“Dammnit,” the gruff voice of the monster breathes out. “You’re like a vice around me.”

“Feel so good,” you say breathlessly.

“Mmm, told you I would make the pain go away.”

You couldn’t think straight, let alone understand what he was talking about. All you could think of is your monster lover and the way he was moving inside of you.

And cum.

The thought of him cumming inside you became all consuming. The need for him to breed you was overwhelming to the point where you began bucking your hips into him again in a feeble attempt at expediting the process.

“Mmm you’re getting so needy aren’t you?” The monster cooes above you. You nod loosely, head bobbing but your eyes lazily fixed on the creatures deep brown ones, pupils big and wide enough you can see your own reflection in them.

“I never did tell you what I did to you, did I?” He says, still moving at a brutal pace.

“Nuh-uh,” is all you manage to say, gasping again at a particularly sharp thrust.

You look down at where the monster and you meet. For a brief, lucid moment your eyes go wide as you see the monsters cock fully disappearing inside of you, a small bulge pressing against your abdomen with every thrust the monster makes.

“I think you can tell by now that I am not like you,” he says. “But, the only way my kind can reproduce is with humans.” His hands roam your body, almost in awe of your form as he continues to speak.

“The only problem is that your kind,” he places a hand above your womb, “are only compatible if we…make it that way.”

Your cloudy thoughts make small connections between his words and his actions. If you were in a right state of mind, you’d probably have loads of questions you wanted answered. But right now, you only had one goal.

Grabbing the monsters arms, you use all of your strength that you can muster and manage to flip him completely only his back. The confident, sure creature becomes wide eyed and blushing as he stares up at you in a state of shock.

“Wh-what are you—“

“Shhh,” you shush him. “Want you to cum. Please?”

You waste no time as you begin to bounce up and down on his hard cock. He was deeper than you could ever imagine possible, but there was no pain. If anything, you couldn’t hold yourself back from cumming again and again.

“Holy shit,” the creature says, mesmerized at the way you use him for your own pleasure.

“Name.” It doesn’t come out as a question, rather a command.

“Wh-wha-You want to know my name?” The creature stutters.

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Eddie! It’s Eddie!”

“Oh, fuck, Eddiieeeeeeeee!”

That pushed the creature over the edge. His large hands grab at your hips to hold you in place. Hot ropes of thick cum begin to fill you up until you start to feel it leaking out of you.

When you can finally open your eyes, you find the creature—Eddie—tongue out and panting as he catches his breath. Before your eyes you watch as he shifts from his monstrous form back into the man you’ve been seeing in your dreams.

If everything wasn’t so real, you’d almost think you were dreaming after all. But the slow circles that Eddie was rubbing into your hips was confirmation enough that all of this was very real.

“Hi,” Eddie says with a dimpled grin when you land next to him in the bed.

“Hi,” you say, looking at the handsome man next to you.

“You okay?” He asks, caressing your cheek.

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning to fully face him. “I just have a lot of questions.”

thanks for reading!

[bunnygirllover45]

— FLESH DIVINE.

♱ TRIGGER WARNINGS: Johann purposely weakens reader's body on this one, manipulation, Johann and the reader have an established friendship, reader has a crush on Johann?, suggestive kiss at the end ig. word count: almost 2k.

Johann was always meticulous, almost maniacally so. Maybe that was why he never got along with other people—he always had a way of pushing people away with his complicated nature. Always controlling, observing, and criticizing, a guy like him was hard to deal with, and you knew that very well.

Even though you managed to get through almost five years of friendship —a very rocky one at that— it still amazed you how someone who could seem so utterly unapproachable stuck by your side. Have you needed a shoulder to cry? Johann was there. Need a hand with your work? Johann is an expert on this, somehow.  Need someone to remind you when to take your meds? Oh, he had the days marked down in his calendar already. No way he could forget such important details, he was a meticulous man after all, remember?

Not that you weren’t reliable either, during his first breakup you were there. The memory was still fresh in your mind as you recall how utterly bored he looked as he told you about that girl you thought was his soulmate. Couldn’t help but wonder if he truly cared about any of the relationships he had before, or even if he cared about the ones he has now, but you held back from asking at the time. Johann really cares about you, if he didn’t then he wouldn’t go and take such measures to ensure you’re doing alright, or checking up on you, right?—the little bug gnawing at the back of your mind didn’t think the same.

He cares about you, he really does, right? Even when you’re this weak and unable to do anything for yourself, he doesn’t think you’re an annoyance.

“You’re spacing out again.” Johann’s deep voice pushed those thoughts away in a split second, the man stared at you, leaning in to tap with one finger against your forehead in a playful gesture that was a little strange taking into account he looked as expressionless as always. “You’re thinkin’ too much, gonna fry your brain into jelly if you keep doin’ that.” A small smile rose on the corners of his lips, black eyes staring at you with a little glint on them you couldn’t quite decipher. “I like you better when you don’t think.” The words made you shiver a little, ‘I like you— ’ and the rest was a blur inside your head. A part of you wished he genuinely meant that in another way, he liked you truly, entirely, not just a small part of you. “What’s that even supposed to mean?” You laughed a little, forcing a smile.”Last time you told me you ‘liked me better when I was sick’ should I be worried?” 

Johann’s eyes scanned your face for a second before he went back to pay attention to the stove; he was boiling some water to make you tea, Johann always made you some when he came home, you didn’t know why, he wasn’t even a fan of tea, but the gesture was sweet enough to make you forget how utterly weird it was the fact he only made one cup.

“Worried ‘bout what? I just said I like you when you’re sick because you’re more obedient. That’s it.” He turned to grab some cups from the cupboard as he spoke. “You’re less prone to pull out some bullshit and get hurt.” 

Your face twisted a little into disappointment, oh, so he meant that. With a deep sigh, you tapped your fingers against the table, head resting against the heel of your hand. His words really weren’t laced with any malice, he spoke with his usual soft and calm tone, so you knew he wasn’t jabbing at you or even really blaming you for anything, but it still hurt a little. Noticing your expression Johann quickly approached, leaning over the counter to pat your head, his hand lingering on top as he scratched a little, like you would do with a dog. “Hey, sorry, was I too harsh? Y’know I don’t mean it for real.” “I know, I do. But it just feels bad… I’m always depending on you and I— I’m starting to feel that I’m just a burden, you know.” Johann lifted his hand, the sudden movement making you stare back at him. Eyes widen a little as you notice how his hand is still hovering on top of your head, it was like his brain stopped midway, his black eyes pierced through you. “You’re not a burden. Not for me.” Your head fell downwards as you managed to speak again, fingers fidgeting against the edges of your clothes, Johann’s stare was like a nail digging onto your skin, it felt so fucking unyielding you just wanted to pull back, to get away from his eyes. Why is he even staring at you so intensely? You didn’t say anything that bad.

“Yet I’m still calling you each time I can’t get out of bed in the morning. I really don’t fucking know why my body is like this, I-I’ve been healthy all my life, and then all of the sudden—”

His hand shooted to grab at the sides of your face and tilt it upwards to stare back at him, his fingers weren’t harsh on your skin but you could still feel the lingering threat of his nails about to dig, veins around his forearms bulging with barely restrained rage, yet his face remained so calm. “You’re thinkin’ too much again.” He continued. “Will you just let me take of you? I don’t care if I need to get up the bad at fucking three in the morning to help you go to the bathroom, I will.” 

Your hand reached to grab his, trying to peel it away from your face, but Johann’s doesn’t even budge. “You’re not my family to have me as your responsibility, I’m really thankful, trust me, I am. But you’re my friend, and it’s not your job to take care of me when you’re always busy with college and—.” “I’ll quit college for you then.” What the fuck. Your eyes widen at his words, but he doesn’t look any less cold than a few seconds ago. “W-What…?” “You’re worried I’m wasting my time? I might be. I’m wasting my time by being away when I could be here with you.” 

You should be happy, really, he’s telling you something so sickly sweet yet the way his eyes never waver away from yours, the way he holds your face like he’s about to break you and yet still remains so gentle, the way he’s speaking so carefree about something that important— yes, you really can’t be happy. “What are you talking about? I don’t want you to do that. Hell, you worked so hard for this career!” “I worked hard for this, for us. My career? It’s just a fucking side hobby at this point when I want to distract my head for a little while.”

You didn’t even notice when he walked around the kitchen counter, now he stood there before you, crouched down to meet your eyes. His thumbs caressed your cheeks with a tenderness you never imagined a guy like Johann could have, the feeling helping your already confused and dizzy head become even dizzier. “You know. For the only thing my studies have helped me is to know where to start.” 

“Start—what?” 

A dark chuckle escaped his lips, it was rare to hear him laugh and it was even weirder to see him with such a delighted smile, if you squinted you could even see a small blush forming on his cheeks. His fingers kept caressing your face as he kept your head still, unable to make any movements, forcing you to stare. “Oh, don’t play coy. You said it yourself, your body was never like this, right?” “Feeling sick all of the sudden, being unable to walk sometimes due to your debilitating state, damn, sometimes when I look at you I wonder if you can even breathe for yourself. I would love to help if that isn’t the case.” 

Cold sweat began to form on the palms of the hands you clutched so tightly against his wrists, nails digging past the bandages and reaching to his skin, Johann didn’t even react to the stinging sensation, too lost on the heady feeling of excitement coursing through his veins. Leaning forward he pressed his body against yours, caging you against the chair. “That was me. All me. I even made sure you didn’t do any kind of physical activity to be extra sure you wouldn’t be able to handle it by yourself.” Bile rose inside your throat, what kind of fucked up person could say such things with that gleeful glint in their eyes? Was this the same Johann you knew all your life? Something felt so wrong, something with him was off this time, the hints were there but you were too blind to see.“And eventually like a flower, you bloomed into something beautiful and mine. Scheiße.”Your hands fell helplessly by your sides, you couldn’t even speak anymore, words long gone together with all the thoughts inside your head, the confusion and fear took a toll on you, and your weakened state made you unable to struggle, even if you wished to do so, your brain screaming to fucking kick him and run away. “You look pale, baby. Is your blood sugar running low? Here, let me help you.” Peeling his body away from just a second but not giving you enough room to even stand up Johann reached for something on the counter, you could some kind of paper being ripped, probably with his teeth or the free hand he didn’t hold against your shoulder, and then he went back to look at you again. “Here, say ‘aah’.” 

As you didn’t even make the attempt to move Johann frowned slightly. “Y’know I don’t want to be forceful with you, sometimes I’m afraid you might break if I do too much. But you don’t leave any other options, do you?” 

Next thing you know, Johann’s lips are against yours, tongue sliding with ease against yours, you could even feel his tongue piercing scraping against the roof of your mouth, he lets out a low amused sound like he was approving the taste of your lips. Being suddenly snapped out of your daze your hands reach to clutch against his shirt, clinging onto dear life as he devours you with eagerness. The kiss is unusually sweet, and you notice the small wrapper of the sugar you use for the tea empty on top of the counter. You close your eyes, embarrassed at how utterly disgusted you felt, not because of the sensations or the fact he was kissing you, but at how much you enjoyed it.

Once the two of you separated, you let out a breathy sigh of relief, and Johann wipes away your lips with his thumb, then his with the back of his hand. “There, much better now, right?”

You were right, Johann was truly a meticulous person. 

[dresshistorynerd]

The Morrisian case against fast fashion

Today I discovered that H&M made a William Morris collection some years ago. The heath death of the universe can't come quickly enough. We can stop now. Satire is dead and we killed her.

It's not just the whole concept of H&M using William Morris' designs for their fast fashion which is insanity inducing, but also the critical response it garnered. Like sure, people did realize this is insane and there was a lot of think pieces about it at the time, but I read several of them and they all seem to still miss the point in spectacular way.

The basic premise of these think pieces go along the lines of: "Would William Morris spin in his grave with a speed of light because of the H&M collection of his designs? A difficult question indeed. William Morris was a complicated man. He wanted art to be affordable to everyone. Isn't H&M affordable? That kinda fits. Though probably he would have some concerns about H&M's practices."

On the surface - yes - but like in reality - fuck no. There's no nuance in this particular issue. He talked about many times what he though of the H&Ms of his time, the retailers selling poor quality industrially produced "fashionable" bullshit. We know exactly what he would have thought of H&M. Here's couple of quotes from his 1884 lecture "Art and Socialism", which makes it very clear.

"It would be an instructive day's work for any one of us who is strong enough to walk through two or three of the principal streets of London on a week-day, and take accurate note of everything in the shop windows which is embarrassing or superfluous to the daily life of a serious man. Nay, the most of these things no one, serious or unserious, wants at all; only a foolish habit makes even the lightest-minded of us suppose that he wants them, and to many people even of those who buy them they are obvious encumbrances to real work, thought and pleasure. But I beg you to think of the enormous mass of men who are occupied with this miserable trumpery, from the engineers who have had to make the machines for making them, down to the hapless clerks who sit day-long year after year in the horrible dens wherein the wholesale exchange of them is transacted, and the shopmen, who not daring to call their souls their own, retail them amidst numberless insults which they must not resent, to the idle public which doesn't want them but buys them to be bored by them and sick to death of them."

He is describing the birth of consumerism, which was taking form during his lifetime in the late Victorian Era, which fast fashion is the extreme logical conclusion of, and he fucking hated it. He specifically railed against endless consumerist products, which H&M is the perfect representation of. It was definitely not the art and beauty he believed everyone required and deserved. He makes the distinction often.

"Now if we are to have popular Art, or indeed Art of any kind, we must at once and for all be done with this luxury; it is the supplanter, the changeling of Art; so much so that by those who know of nothing better it has even been taken for Art, the divine solace of human labour, the romance of each day's hard practice of the difficult art of living."

"And here furthermore is at least a little sign whereby to distinguish between a rag of fashion and a work of Art: whereas the toys of fashion when the first gloss is worn off them do become obviously worthless even to the frivolous—a work of Art, be it ever so humble, is long lived; we never tire of it; as long as a scrap hangs together it is valuable and instructive to each new generation. All works of Art in short have the property of becoming venerable amidst decay: and reason good, for from the first there was a soul in them, the thought of man, which will be visible in them so long as the body exists in which they were implanted."

When he thought of popular Art he thought of the craftsmanship of the common people. The art people have made from useful everyday objects with skillful handicrafts. This is what he means by "divine solace of human labour". It's not reverence of Puritanical work ethic, on the contrary, it's the reverence of creation, of the earnest joy people feel when they get to express themselves through their creative pursuits. He certainly didn't believe in work for work's sake, work needed to be worthwhile and enjoyable. He summarized his own position on what labour should be thusly:

"It is right and necessary that all men should have work to do which shall be worth doing, and be of itself pleasant to do; and which should he done under such conditions as would make it neither over-wearisome nor over-anxious."

He urged his middle class audience to reject consumerism (the lecture was for a very much middle class atheist society):

"For I say again that in buying these things: 'Tis the lives of men you buy! Will you from mere folly and thoughtlessness make yourselves partakers of the guilt of those who compel their fellow men to labour uselessly?"

I think it's glaringly obvious H&M and fast fashion in general is what he would consider luxury. Rags of fashion that are just churned out and discarded without thought and produced by compelling people to labour uselessly. It's not popular art that's made by workers and craftsmen, who are able to express themselves through it. There's no agency for the abused workers in H&M's sweatshops, they are not expressing their joy of creation, they are simply labouring uselessly.

Morris didn't shame workers for buying affortable things even if they weren't Art with big A, because that's the problem he despised the whole economic system for, for taking away the popular Art from people, making it inaccessible, and selling back mass produced products with very little practical or aesthetic value. So I don't think he would have problem with people who can only afford fast fashion today. They are the victims of capitalism too, because Art has been taken away from them. But the idea that some of these think pieces had that perhaps the H&M's Morris collection can be good actually if you squint, that H&M has the capacity to bring the art and beauty Morris advocated for for the people, is level of stupidity that's hard to express in words.

Morris didn't believe anything made with exploited labour could be truly beautiful, truly art. In his 1879 lecture "The Art of the People" he put it like this:

"That thing which I understand by real art is the expression by man of his pleasure in labour."

The way I understand this, is that art is communication. Through it we communicate feelings, ideas and thoughts, that is it's purpose. So for that communication to work, for it to be imbued with message, the person making it needs to feel passion and love for it's creation. How can there be love and passion if the hands making the garment belong to a tired exploited worker who has no agency what so ever in their work and can only think about survival to the next day?

Beyond the fundamental exploitativeness of H&M and fast fashion, this collection would still get zero points on aesthetic values from Morris even with his own designs. Because the work itself was such an important part of art for Morris, good design was nothing without good craftsmanship. Good design in his mind was always relative and dependent on it's purpose.

"For everything made by man’s hands has a form, which must be either beautiful or ugly; beautiful if it is in accord with Nature, and helps her; ugly if it is discordant with Nature, and thwarts her; it cannot be indifferent." (The Lesser Arts, 1877)

Here when he says nature, he means the nature of the thing that is made - basically it's purpose and function - and the nature of the materials it's made from. Basically, the design must always be made to bring out the function of the art and the qualities of the material it's made from, not fight against them. This is because he believed handicrafts were uniquely suitable for expressing the love of creation, therefore superior labour, and to really bring out the qualities of the craftsmanship and enjoy the creative process, the design should be suitable for that craft. The other side, which was the joy of using and experiencing art, required the craft to be selected for the suitable purpose. Using poorly functioning furniture for example is not very enjoyable, nor is using clothing that's made from materials that are not suitable for the climactic conditions it's supposed to be used in.

H&M of course utterly fails in this. They use Morris' designs in fully unsuitable ways. They print patterns made for example for wall papers on poor quality fabrics with synthetics dyes they weren't made for. This line from one blog post I came across really got me: "Therefore, without cheapening the artistic value of Morris’ designs, H&M’s collection offers an unparalleled potential for accessibility to them." No. Fuck no. They do in fact cheapen Morris' designs in every single way possible. Literally this is atrocious.

Despite the popular depiction, Morris wasn't in fact against industrial machinery or industrial art even, or at least he wasn't once his views on art and politics matured. He did think technology was useful, but he thought the people should use industrial methods for the benefit of all, not be enslaved by the industrial machine.

"I have spoken of machinery being used freely for releasing people from the more mechanical and repulsive part of necessary labour; and I know that to some cultivated people, people of the artistic turn of mind, machinery is particularly distasteful, and they will be apt to say you will never get your surroundings pleasant so long as you are surrounded by machinery. I don't quite admit that; it is the allowing machines to be our masters and not our servants that so injures the beauty of life nowadays. In other words, it is the token of the terrible crime we have fallen into of using our control of the powers of Nature for the purpose of enslaving people, we care less meantime of how much happiness we rob their lives of." ("How we live and how we might live", 1887)

However, he thought that the designer should approach it the way they approached any craft, by designing for the strengths of the machine work.

"But if you have to design for machine-work, at least let your design show clearly what it is. Make it mechanical with a vengeance, at the same time as simple at possible. Don't try, for instance, to make a printed plate look like a hand-painted one: make it something which no one would try to do if he were painting by hand..." ("Art and the Beauty of the Earth", 1881)

He did use some machinery for fabric and wall paper printing, but he was very intentional about their use. Still his designs weren't made for the type of methods these modern H&M machinery uses and he did for example use natural dyes. Particularly insulting is that some of the H&M clothes are made from viscose, rayon made with viscose method. Viscose method is extremely toxic and is known to cause long term health consequences for the workers and the people in surrounding areas. This has been well proven knowledge for ages. William Morris' wall paper factory in the beginning used the typical method used at the time which involved arsenic, but once he learned this could pose risks for the workers, he changed the method. Many of the new synthetic dyes were toxic at the time, which is the major reason he so favoured natural dyes, known to not cause health issues for workers or pollute the environment.

The question many of these think pieces about the H&M Morris collection posed was, would Morris disapprove and should we care? The first part of that is very easy to answer. Yes. Of course Morris would disapprove. He is currently powering the whole of British Isles with purely the kinetic energy his grave-spinning produces. Should we care though? If you care about Morris' art, if you want to see more of that kind of art in this world, you should care. Morris' art is not about the superficial qualities. Copying his designs and aesthetics and styles, will only lead to hollow imitations, that are exactly what he described the rags of fashion to be; as the shininess of novelty wears off they will reveal themselves to be soulless, useless and utterly empty. This collection is just that. To see more of the kind of art that makes you feel like his art makes you feel, not just something that reminds you of that feeling, you should focus more on the way the art is made and less on the specific aesthetics. If his vision of labour and art was realised, all art produced of course wouldn't be loved by every person, but all of it would be loved by someone, even if that someone was just the maker. And that would be more worthwhile than every single rag of fast fashion.

I will stop William-Morris-posting now and return to my thesis.

The full texts I quoted here:

Art and Socialism The Art of the People The Lesser Arts How We Live and How We Might Live Art and the Beauty of the Earth

[gingernut1314]

Good Omen

Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Reader

Summary: The Rengoku genes are hard to fight against, but your newborn child finds a way.

Warnings: gendered terms (wife, husband, female, male), reader has a baby (not shown)

Word Count: 840+

A/N: First time writing for Kyojuro and I don't know why I haven't before this because I LOVE that man too much. He is one of my many, dearly beloved husbands ✋😩. I hope you all enjoy!

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You had pushed out a carbon copy of Kyojuro Rengoku.

You had thought maybe--maybe your genes would stand a chance in the creation of your child.

You thought that maybe the sweet new life you would bring into this world might have your nose or your eyes or even your cheekbones.

You, of course, thought wrong. 

You didn’t know why you had hoped so passionately for your child to look like you, not when the entirety of the Rengoku line looked like one person had transported himself through time to live with himself from various different ages.

Bushy and wild yellow hair already grew from your sweet babes head. Bright, red and yellow-rimmed, owl-wide eyes blinked up at you. Pointed nose, high cheekbones, strong grip around your finger, and small but dark eyebrows.

This baby was your husband's clone, just as he and his brother had been clones of their father, and their father a clone of his father. 

The one thing you had gifted your baby--the one thing that seemed to have fought tooth and nail through the overwhelming power of Rengoku genealogy had you worrying your lip between your teeth. 

Your baby was born female. 

Female when generation after generation of Rengoku and Flame Hashira had been male. 

You couldn’t help the bit of panic that wound tightly in your chest as you turned your gaze from your baby to your husband, who burst into your room eyes shining and smile so wide you thought the corners might brush the lobe of each ear. 

“How is my darling wife?” Kyojuro’s voice boomed through the room, making your midwives cringe and shush him. You, nor it seemed your child, cared. You were used to it, comforted by its consistent optimism, and your baby seemed to feel the same way. 

Kyojuro noticed the shushes and whispered an apology back. A whisper that still managed to be projected further than your midwives cared for. 

“Sweetheart,” You started as Kyojuro gracefully knelt next to where you sat. 

“Yes?” He murmured, softer now that he was leaning closer to gaze upon his baby. You moved her so that you could present her sleeping face to her father. 

“The baby…she’s--well she’s a girl.” You heard Kyojuro take a small inhale of breath and your panic spiked. There hadn’t been a single girl in his family for generations. Not one and here you were, giving him a female heir. 

You had never known your husband to grow angered. To get mad at you but--maybe this was the line? Maybe it was the line and you were panicking to know what he was thinking. 

“Perfect!” He boomed spooking the midwives, some of who gave strangled yelps. “Perfect!” He repeated proudly. “A girl? Are you sure?” He turned to look back at you in his excitement, yellow and red eyes--they were brimming with tears as they looked at you. You felt your own eyes burn in relief. In your utter love for the man kneeling beside you. 

“Yes, I’m sure. You’re not mad?” Kyojuro gave a barking laugh at such a thought.

“Mad? No. I’m ecstatic!” You gave your own laugh, your tears spilling from your eyes. Kyojuro brushed his calloused thumb over your cheeks, clearing them both of the racing droplets. “You know there hasn’t been a single female Rengoku since the beginning of our family line.” You nodded, giving a humming “mm-hmm” that caught in your throat, which had tightened painfully in your fear. “Many believed we were divinely blessed for this, but I always felt it was a curse.” 

“Do you want to hold her?” 

“More than anything.” Kyojuro beamed. You gently passed your baby to her father, her dark brows furrowing at the sudden change. 

Kyojuro never once took his eyes off his child. Didn’t stop to brush his own tears away as he took in every last detail of your daughter's face, a look of such love in his eyes it was overwhelming. 

“You are special. A good omen.” He whispered down to her. “And I love you. Oh dear--how my heart bursts for you.” 

Your own heart felt like it would flutter so hard it would explode right from your chest at the words he gifted his daughter. He was a good man and already a good father.

You brushed your own fingers over his cheeks, clearing them of his tears and running them through his wild hair. 

“Want to invite Senjuro in?” 

“Only if you wish, dear.” You nodded your head and Kyojuro took a few more, unhurried minutes to hold and watch over his child before passing her back to you. As soon as she was securely within your hold once more, he was popping up to his feet. 

“Senjuro!” He called, giving the midwives another frightful start. You watched your husband rush out of the room, lips in a near-painful smile as you chuckled at his excitement. “Senjuro! My baby is a girl! She’s a girl!” 

You had been completely foolish to worry. 

You and your daughter were in very good and loving hands.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Night 221: Liar’s Night

words: 1.7K rating: E pairing: Gale x Tav summary: A night for tricks & treats at the annual Blackstaff Academy Masquerade Ball. An certainly more treats than tricks that Gale had hoped for. tags: kinktober - masquerade, f!oral, public sex, fluffy smut

Ao3 - 1000 Night Series

---------------------------🟣----------------------------------

Gale huffed as he adjusted his mask, trying to straighten it. It was rather itchy too. He wished he could have just used a glamour like some many of his colleagues tonight.

Liar’s Night. A festival in honor of Leira & Mask, gods of trickery, deception, and illusion.

It was often celebrated with people dressing up in costume to ‘trick’ the gods into thinking they were someone else. Though celebrated up & down the Sword Coast, in Waterdeep, the celebration was very elaborate. As home to one of the greatest magical academies, people took their effort in the illusions very serious.

None more so than the academy itself.

As a student, Gale often wondered what the professor’s masquerade ball was like. The smaller celebration for students was often quite involved, so he had to assume that the professor’s was over the top. It did not disappoint. The main ballroom had been decorated with beautiful crystals straight from the Underdark and beyond. Intricate weavings of pumpkin vines from some of the best herbologist magicians this side of the druids. Candles floated in mid-air, a common trick, but would change on their own with the tempo of the music played by an invisible orchestra. Seeing his colleagues unbutton their collars for a bit, dressed so unique & silly, was also quite impressive.

“Gale my boy, where is that enchanting wife of yours?”

“Hard to say, Elminster.” Though not on staff at the academy, a wizard of Elminster’s acclaim was welcome at any magical gathering. And Elminster would go just about anywhere with free cheese. “It’s a little hard to see with this mask.”

“Hmmm…her suggestion, I take it?” The older wizard asked. Though not really asked, as he seemed to already have his answer before Gale nodded. “I thought as much. Do not take this the wrong way, my boy, but I would not have thought a proud peacock like you would cover put his visage so willingly.”

“Did you just call me vain Elminster?”

“Not so much ‘vain’ as more….proud of your appearance. And which you should be, my boy. Enjoy your looks and your youth while you can. They will be gone from you sooner than you know.” The older man huffed a little, seeming defeated by the weight of his own years a bit, before he sipped his wine. “I will leave you to search for your mate then. Do say goodbye before you leave though.”

“We’ll find you by the buffet I take it?” Gale quipped as his old mentor departed.

Alone in the crowd for a moment, Gale continued to try and scan the room for his wife. She had said that she would met him at the party, saying it was silly for him to come all the way back from classes just to return a few hours later. Gale said he didn’t mind what man would, arriving at a party with a beautiful woman on his arm but she insisted.

“Excuse me kind sir,” he turned around at the gentle tap on his shoulder, thinking it was someone looking for the loo again, and felt all the air rush out of his lungs, “could you direct me to the nearest stream?” There before him was Tav. His beautiful Tav. Dressed in what he could only assume was a water nymphs costume.

The intricate, flimsy material moving around her body like waves on the sea. The flecks of sparkle like moonlight blinking in the sea. Her mask, not nearly as cumbersome as his, just some delicate pieces of white coral by her temple with makeup over her eyes. Clearly her inspiration that of the Umberlee charges they helped while in the Gate. But where they looked ready to slay a man in divine vengeance for their Bitch Queen, Tav looked as if she would lure a man to the sea, who would willingly follow as a sacrifice to the Mother of Oceans for just one more glance at her.

“There…there are no streams here.” Gale replied. Collecting himself and turning fully towards her. “But there’s a pretty large fountain in the south corridor I could interest you in.”

Tav giggled. The sound like sea breeze through a chime. “I suppose I will have to make do. What’s a handsome man like you washing up on these shores?”

“I’m looking for someone.” Gale told her. “A missing love.”

“Missing? Oh, how horrible.” She stepped closer and placed her hand at his chest. Even with the thick cut of his jacket he could feel her pulse there. Although maybe that was his own heart. “Anything I can do, to help a poor lost sailor?”

Gale clasped her hand and, without a word, cast Dimensional Door. Suddenly, they were no longer in the thick of the party but in a secluded, unused portion of the ballroom. Gale torn off his mask and threw it to the ground somewhere in the dark before he kissed Tav feverously.

“Where did you get this dress?” He asked when he finally let her go.

“I made it.” She told him; would her wonders never cease. “I thought it would be a cute couples costume. Nymph and pirate.”

Suddenly his outfit made sense. Gale hadn’t questioned it. Interested in the party but less on what he was wearing, and trusted her judgement. “Well then, it seems I have caught myself a nymph in my net.” Gale replied. Falling back into ‘character’. “According to legend, that entitles me to three wishes for your freedom.”

Tav giggled again. “Alright. What are your wishes, handsome sailor?”

“I want to taste you.”

Gale kissed Tav again, deeper this time, before he moved down to her neck. Her skin tasted like salt. Gale wondered if she had added it to make her costume that much more authentic, or if it was just his imagination. He moved further down. Kissing the patches of skin her costume left dangerously bare as he moved the kneel in front of her. “Gale,” Tav hissed quietly, “we’re at a party!”

“You said you would grant me any three wishes.” He reminded her. Her blush an intoxicating contrast with all the blue. “This is my wish.”

With no further complaints from Tav, Gale moved the ruffles of her skirt aside. Letting them fall over him like a curtain as he reached up to spread her legs and lapped at her center. His wife moaned. Fingers gripping into his shoulders at the hem of her skirts to keep quiet. Gale used his practiced tongue to work her open. Moving one leg carefully onto his shoulder by her hand to give him more room. Taste her deeper. He was pleased to feel Tav buck her hips against him in a soft cadence. Using his mouth to gain her pleasure. His cock straining in his pants in reply.

In the quiet dark of their little corner, Tav moaned between the bite of her bottom lip as she came for him. Her sweet ocean coating his tongue before he pulled out from under her skirts. “Everything you wished for?”

“And then some.” Gale replied. Looking up at her with reverence before he stood to his feet. “For my next wish, I wish to be inside you.”

“Yes please.”

Tav wasted little time helping him unlace his pants and hike up her skirts again. Gale was pleased with her eagerness. Maybe it was the moment, or the fact that they were still at his work party, but she seemed quick to join with him; compared to their usual slow & passionate love making.

Gale held on to Tav’s legs when she wrapped them around his waist. Using the wall to brace them before he slid his cock inside. His little nymph moaned. Clinging to him as he fucked her. Thrusting in & out with ease from the wetness of her orgasm and tongue just moments ago.

“Don’t stop.” She begged him. “Feels so good. Don’t ever stop Gale.”

How Gale wished that could be true. To be joined with her always. To be one forever and feel her around his cock for eternity. Sadly though, all good things must come to an end, and the wizard grunted as his hips stopped. Coming deep inside her.

Gently, he let Tav down and allowed them to adjust themselves. Gale groaned as he straightened his back. The lower part tense from the strain and his impulse decision to lift his wife. Well worth it, but he was paying the price now.

“Shall we go back to the party for a bit, my love?”

“Yes we…Oh…Oh dear…” Tav giggled as she looked at Gale. Covering her mouth as she snickered. “Your face is covered in blue.”

Gale was surprised, although he really shouldn’t be, and touched his cheek to find blue paint at his fingertips. “Nine hells…” It was probably in his beard too. It would not do to go out looking like this; their disheveled appearance already a dead give away that they had not been taking in the pumpkin displays nor the night air.

“Think we can sneak out the back?” Tav asked.

“Now that you mention it, I just so happens I know a way to sneak out through this back hall.” A memory for his school days that was proving quite useful.

The couple snuck out through Gale’s hidden escape route and out off the campus to head back home. Once there, he took Tav in his arms again. “Sorry my impulsiveness ruined your costume. And the chance to show it off.” He apologized. “You just looked so lovely. I couldn’t help myself.”

Tav chuckled at his apology and offered him a kiss. “No need to be sorry. We’ll be better prepared for next year I suppose.” Gale smiled. Delighted at the thought of next year. And the year after that. And the year after that.

His wife wrapped his arms around his neck to stare lovingly at him. “You never told me your third wish, sailor.”

Gale grinned. He tilted her chin up, holding just before their lips touch to whisper, “Forever.” His one wish. His only wish for a very long time.

Tav leaned up to seal their lips together. Like the stamp on a contract. “Done.” She told him. “Now, handsome sailor,” Gale grunted as Tav hopped up into his arms. His lower back whining again as he held her up. “You’ve caught yourself and sullied a fine nymph this day. You’ll have to clean her up.”

“Oh yes, woe be unto he who interrupts a nymph’s bathing rituals.” He teased back. His cock already getting excited again as he carried her to their bathing suite. Eager to show his water nymph how long he could hold his breath for.

[baphometsss]

On Solas's romantic history

Okay. I know what the consensus is. That he’s way too smooth in Inquisition to be inexperienced but... (and I’m fully prepared to get shat on for this lmao don’t kill me)

When he kisses Lavellan, that doesn’t read to me like he’s super suave and seductive. It reads more like—endeared by them trying to run away after kissing him, then being so surprised by how good the kiss felt, that he grabs Lavellan, kisses them again, pulls back with a surprised look on his face, and then goes in for more. It’s touch-starved, desperate, hungry. It’s not really all that smooth because he’s literally bending them over backwards lmao like Solas can you chill maybe

He is very smooth when flirting with Lavellan, but he's also an absolute gobshite who's spent thousands of years sassing the hell out of wannabe gods so that's not a surprise. He's witty af and enjoys some back and forth.

Solas is a very lonely man. He keeps everyone at arm’s length because he’s seen what getting close to people can do to him. His biggest fear is dying alone, and he almost gives into that because it’s what he believes he deserves for all he’s done. His life has been so stressful for so long that he's almost totally unable to consider anything else but his battles. He even says explicitly that he's tired.

That doesn’t make me think of someone who was out there in Ancient Elvhenan sleeping around all those years. No doubt he considered it, but he likely didn't pursue much with anyone physical; he enjoyed spending as much time as possible in the Fade. (The banter with Blackwall doesn't count to me personally since Solas himself thinks the whole idea is preposterous, which speaks for itself really.) Especially after being a slave/servant to Mythal seems to have voided him of his agency for some time. Then he led a rebellion and fought for thousands of years against brutal tyrants. Any one of the people he was close to could’ve been trying to kill him. Lavellan, however, has no reason to do so, so he can flirt with them freely. In all that time, it seems as though the only people he allowed to get close to the real him were Felassan and Mythal. I don’t think he slept with either, because the relationship was familial. Felassan was also loyal to Mythal, but didn’t burn his vallaslin off. (Is this a right hand/left hand of the Divine parallel again? Two brothers and their mother? Idk, I need to think about that one). For creatures with bodies made from the blood of Titans, they don’t have blood families. They would’ve had to forge their own, which is what Solas did with Mythal and Felassan.

And then there’s his ‘it has been a long time’. Most have taken this to mean that it’s been a long time since he’s been intimate with someone, but given what we know now and that he spent thousands of years in the Fade while his body was in uthenera… I wonder if he’s actually saying-- ‘it has been a long time since I lived in a body’-- ie. ‘it has been a long time since I felt physical drives, a long time since I have felt so physically real’. To me, this makes a lot more sense than the ‘he’s thousands of years old he can’t possibly be a virgin/inexperienced’ take bc like... My friends. It probably didn’t feel like thousands of years to him bc he’s essentially always existed. Time is different for spirits. It’s not like he’s gonna go: ‘well I’m nearly 4000y/o, better lose my v-card’. Time is no object when you are a timeless being. Then, given the path his life took, it wouldn’t make a lot of sense for him to be that experienced given how hard it is for him to trust.

I also personally headcanon him as heavily demisexual/demiromantic too. His true nature is so non-physical that the idea of him being very promiscuous or something just doesn’t fit his character. He needs a mental connection, to feel something, before sharing much of himself, or allowing himself the vulnerability intimacy brings, something he clearly feels with Lavellan based on how shaken up by it he is.

And it’s also canon that Solas has never been in love before meeting Lavellan. So. If he went however many millennia without falling in love, it’s also possible he went without intimacy for a long time too.

To be clear I’m not trying to say that this is the correct conclusion. My opinion has just changed a little since Veilguard (I used to think he was being smooth etc bc he's old af/v experienced, but with confirmation of former spirit Solas it’s changed my perspective somewhat)

Also:

‘Things have always been easier for me in the Fade’

‘I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams’ my man is shooketh guys SHOOKETH

[norris55s]

drunk in love - carlos sainz

driver reader x carlos sainz smut

warnings: mature content ahead. please don't read if you're under 18! afab reader, smut, penetrating sex, oral f receiving

a/n: first published written piece! i've overthought it for a long ass time so here it is and i hope it's not half bad lol and there isn't much of a plot either so there's that, it's just thirst and me being weak for a carlos x driver pairing

————————————————————————

Time seemed to stop as Carlos’ hands went from resting on your neck and cheeks, to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He couldn’t envelop you enough in his arms, he somehow wanted more.

“Carlos”, you whined into the most passionate kiss you had ever been given. “If you want me to stop you have to say it now,” he pulled away to speak but returned his lips to yours a fraction of a second later. After tasting you, he wasn’t sure how he would ever pull away again, and prayed you wouldn’t want him to stop.

You should want him to stop. You should want to run away. You should, because he was your greatest threat in the championship battle, and going any further with him complicates the already high stakes. But you don’t want him to stop.

You couldn’t even speak with the way he was kissing you; he was a man starved and you felt dizzy with how desperate he seemed to be close you. After you didn’t tell him to stop and only held onto his hair harder, wanting to deepen a kiss impossible to deepen more, he pushed you against the wall and began to move towards the zipper of your dress.

He felt your goosebumps and almost grinned at the effect his touch had on you; almost like the one you had on him. After pushing the zipper down, he pulled away from the kiss again to look into your eyes for your final consent. “Are you sure?” Carlos asked as his brown eyes stared you down filled with lust but wanting you to be certain about what you were doing to ease his heart. “Please,” you moaned back at him, and it was enough for the man in front of you to go right back to kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before as he pulled down the straps of your dress. You returned the favor of helping take his clothes off, undoing his belt and taking of his shirt. In a split second he carried you to his hotel room bed, and finished undressing you even faster but paradoxically taking his sweet time admiring the sight in front of him.

It had been years and years of Carlos imagining you naked in his bed and the real thing was a million times better. You are a goddess in his eyes and he couldn’t believe he has the chance to touch you in all your divinity.

He wasn’t hard to look at either. His tan, glowing skin looked beyond perfect under the dim lights, and you seized the opportunity to feel how he tensed his muscles under your touch. His attractiveness was beyond your comprehension, but your body knew exactly how to react.

His right hand spread your legs as he kept looking at you, and very much almost moaned at how wet your cunt felt already. His ego beamed and he softly, consistently rubbed your clit to continue the trend. Your mouth quickly began emitting the most beautiful sounds Carlos had ever heard, and he wanted more, so he positioned himself between your thighs and pressed his tongue against your beautiful pussy. There was no sweeter taste on the planet than that of your cunt, no better sounds than those of your moans and whimpers, and no better sight than you naked under him. He’d be damned if he didn’t take you to heaven for allowing him to witness you like this.

“Fuck, Carlos, you’re so good,” was all you could think about as his tongue fucked into you over and over again, with just the right amount of pressure and speed. Soon enough, he slid two fingers in your hole and moved his tongue expertly against your clit. You cried out his name again, music to his ears, and he pumped his fingers at a painfully slow pace contrasting to his rapid licks on your ever more sensitive clit.

It was only a matter of time before you came in his mouth, nearly screaming and holding onto his hair. “God, you taste so good,” he climbed on top of you, never breaking eye contact as he locked your lips again. “Tell me I can fuck you, please,” he asked earnestly, as if there was a chance you would say no. “Carlos, fuck me. Give me your cock, please,” you begged, drunk off the pleasure he was giving you, and guided his member in your entrance with your hand.

He was inside you before either of you could wrap your hands around the fact that there was no turning back. He swore so many times in his head, and a couple out loud, as he felt your tight walls wrap around him. You felt the delicious sting of the stretch his big cock was giving you, moaning his name to his mouth.

“Fuck, you were made for me,” he stated as he took the first thrust. And you believed it. Your bodies and minds were so in sync it gave you whiplash; the passionate sex he was giving you was like nothing you’d experienced before. “You are incredible, you are making me feel incredible” you thought and said, almost as a prayer, as a sign of a newly found devotion. “Fuck me harder.” And Carlos didn’t need to be told twice. His thrust pace became merciless, your breasts bouncing roughly as he mounted you. “Your dick is so big,” all the thoughts in your head were pouring out, praising the man who was giving you the best sex of your life, “I feel so fucking good.” “You’re taking me so well,” he replied, sweat dripping down his defined chest, “Me encanta tu coño”. (I love your cunt).

In between all the kisses, love bites, curse words and back scratches, you both came at the same time. His hot cum filled your pussy and he placed his head in the crook of your neck.

As you came down from your high and took deep breaths together, his eyes looked up at you. You couldn’t tell the emotion behind them, but he quickly let you know. “I love you.”

[unluckilyimnot]

catch your face before you can hide your blush

rayne x reader (mashle)

fluff

m.list

note: me thinking so damn hard about a neutral way to say "she's just a girl" bc yes it's a joke but not inclusif enough and ugh it turns out bad

Feel free to request! Take a look at the rules before :)

I hope you enjoy !

 It’s not that you don’t like to work with Rayne, it’s the opposite in fact. He always has the right word, a good point to make and it’s easy to explain your point. But if there was one thing you had to point out, it would be how seriously he looks at you when you work. Or when he doesn’t have anything to do, in fact.

Yes, you were sensitive to his charms, but you don’t know if he’s conscious about it at all. Whenever he talks, you have to stay focused on what he’s saying without minding too much his voice, or just even his lips – which are usually dry, you wished you could hand him your lip balm without thinking of the indirect kiss that would create. You’re just a normal teenager, you lose it easily around your crush.

But right now, your real problem was that you were talking and he was listening. Which means that he, it seems like, has to look deeply into your eyes when you make eye contact. Things are, you can’t stay concentrated when he glances at you that way. There’s something so simple yet interesting, he’s drinking all your words as some divine speeches and your brain stops braining. You found yourself mumbling a few words that don't mean anything anymore, you can’t bounce back on you last words because you already forgot them ; and of course you don’t miss the way his eyes fell on your lips for a second before looking back at your eyes.

You can’t help but look away, a burning hot feeling on your cheeks and the second you turned your face away, something cold grabbed your before you could. Your eyes are back into his, getting lost when he doesn’t say anything, simply holding you still.

You’re alone in the library, it’s about to close yet you still have so much to do but it’s like time stopped. He can’t get his eyes off you, nor can you. Cat got your tongue for a few seconds that felt like minutes before you opened her mouth.

“Why do you always look at me like that ?” you whisper, scared that if you speak up you’ll break something.

“Can’t I when you talk to me ?” You’re losing it. Your mouth is dry and keeping the eye contact is killing you. If he looks at your lips one more time you’ll be a goner. Moving his fingers along your jawline instead now, he got a little closer, his nose brushing against yours. “So ?” he insisted, since he didn’t hear your answer but you only nodded at him.

Then his eyes took another peek at your lips, and he’s about to speak again, but you can’t help but lay a small kiss on his lips before he does.

It’s his time to be surprised but not enough to let go when you try to pull away.

“You’re really thinking you’ll get away with that ? Wait ‘til we get to the dorm.” 

Freaking obsessed with this man as well lately. I'm not done with mashle yet but soon and I'm SO SAD. I loved it so much ❤️‍🩹

[sigilsmut]

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 - 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

Damn my ass did not make it in time again. Am I still gonna post it? Sure why not.

This goes out to @sanjisblackasswife​ as a small present. I hope this is ok Timi 😭 🖤 Happy (belated) birthday

CW: established relationship, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, lingerie, a few petnames, Sanji being a pervert per usual, just plain nastiness

“How are you fairing, mon cher? Are you still with me?” Sanji’s muffled voice asks you as if he hadn’t snatched three orgasms from you in the past 2 hours. 

As expected, you couldn’t form a proper sentence, your mind as hazy as your watery vision. He was three fingers deep into your pussy while his other hand kept a vice grip on your body. That didn’t stop it from squirming as much as it could, however. A string of moans blessed his ears like the sweetest melody. Smooth, creamy legs spasming around his dizzy head.

The blonde had surprised you with a heartful breakfast earlier, slaving over the stove at the ass crack of dawn to make sure your birthday started off on the right foot. When you expressed concern over how tired he’d be, he simply brushed it off, reassuring you that ‘it’s what my goddess deserves’.

Of course, a banquet was also held for your special day. It was filled with numerous activities, rounds of bubbly drinks, and little heartwarming speeches of how each Straw Hat (in their own quirky way) was grateful to have you in their lives. And you were just as grateful to have them in yours.

But what kickstarted the moment between you two was towards the end of the night, where Sanji had walked in on you changing. By accident? On purpose? Who fucking knows. If his flushed cheeks, slick grin, and nose running of blood was anything to go off of, he didn’t feel any remorse seeing you in your scantily clad lingerie. 

A baby blue set, complete with white garters and a pair of blue satin panties. All in his favorite color. You went on a birthday shopping spree with Nami earlier and the set caught your eye. Thinking it’d be cute for you and your boyfriend, you immediately put it on after purchase. It was apparent now that it was a good choice to make.

After locking the door behind him, his long legs carried him to where you stood near the bed. He gently set his hands on your waist, and after giving him the go-ahead, it was downhill from there.

Hands groping and tracing over areas where his lips followed close behind, no part of your sun-kissed bronze skin was left unmarked. The stubble on his chin tickling your belly and inner thighs as he went along. It’s what led to now, with three of his fingers curling into you and his tongue tracing circles around your clit. The sheets became stained with the mixture of your juices and his saliva, but neither of you seemed to care. The bed shook from how aggressively he humped into the mattress, rolling his hips and dragging his hard on against the sheets. The friction made a delicious burn grow against the tip of his cock, and a groan bellowed from his chest.

“Lemme have another one, Y/N-swan...” He mumbled. He took your clit into his mouth and hummed, picking up the pace with his fingers. Your back arched off the bed, screaming into the darkness of the spare bedroom as you gushed into his mouth. He lapped up everything you gave him and only eased off of you once your fingers pushed his head away. 

“You taste absolutely divine, darling, like the sweetest nectar I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. I can never get enough of eating you out.” He heartfully grins like the nasty pervert he is.

Finally he sits up and strips himself of his boxers, groaning as his cock sprang free and slapped against his abdomen. In your stupor, you drooled at the sight and weakly reached forward to dab at his tip. He shudders.

“Such a pretty dick, ‘Ji...” you sweetly murmured. You swear you’ve never seen a man move so fast.

You blinked and he was hovering over you. Your body quivered as you realized that he was already pushing inside you, eager to bring you back to cloud nine with him this time. As his pelvis kissed yours, so did your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head as you tasted yourself. The bedframe slammed into the wall as his lithe hips snapped into yours. Your eyes widened, balling the sheets into your fists as you held on for dear life. Sanji gazed down at you in astonishment.

From his perspective, the moon was absolutely gorgeous, but not as gorgeous as you. Sanji thought he might cry, still in disbelief that he got to have and pleasure someone as beautiful as you. Your watery brown eyes looking up at him with so much love, your locs sprawled out all over the pillows and yet framed your face perfectly. Your puffy lips in an ‘O’ shape, crying out from his purposeful thrusts. Your brown skin seemed to be glowing with how the moon shone on you. In his eyes, your beauty outshone all the stars in the sky, your angelic voice reaching the Heavens at this point. 

It’s almost as if that was his goal with how fast he was going. 

His slender hands lifted your lower body, wrapping your smooth legs around his waist to push himself in deeper. The blonde craned his head back and moaned, feeling your velvety walls clamp around his cock in a vice grip. His breath hitched, slamming his hips into you even harder and rolling his mushroom head into that one spot that made your toes curl. The bed creaked and croaked underneath the two of you, and it was absolutely certain that Nami would give you shit for how loud you’re being.

“Gimme another one, cherie, pretty please..” He weakly begged of you. His fingers rubbed over your clit rapidly and you groaned, the amount of pleasure overwhelming you. Your whole body shook as a silent moan escaped. Your walls squeezed again and the tension in your belly released. “S-Sanji-!”

“That’s it, princess. Let go for me” he encouraged you. He mewled as you reached your high for seemingly the fifth time tonight, your juices gushing all over his pelvis and all over your thighs. His curly brows scrunched together and tears began to swell in his eyes, groaning as he filled your walls with his warm, sticky load. You have never felt fuller than this moment. 

His body curled over you, his hot labored breath in your ear. He turned to you, moving a loc out of his way to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “Happy birthday, my sweet Y/N.”

“Thank you Sanji.” You smiled lovingly and he returned your expression. Once you calmed your breathing, you reached your hand up to caress his cheek. Sanji was eager to lean into your touch, swooning at how adorable you looked in your after-coitus glow. Suddenly his eyes widened in realization. “I almost forgot.”

He then reached over and took your panties in his grasp, stuffing them in the deep recesses of his pants pocket. You furrowed your brows at his actions, even though you knew good and well what the reason was.

“For safe keeping.” He grinned. He was gonna keep the pair as a reminder of tonight.

“You play too damn much!” You laughed, lightly smacking his shoulder. He laughed with you, stretching back on the bed and collecting you in his arms. Peppering your face in little kisses, he looked up at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Would you like to go again? You’re welcome to ride me if you want, you are the birthday girl after all.”

[daydreamingleclerc]

gorgeous; lewis hamilton

y/n's boyfriend is arguably one of the worst men on the planet, so, she decides to hook up with a pretty boy she meets in a club.

includes; smut, oral (m, f), fingering, degradation, teasing, spanking, hair pulling, face fucking, sir!kink, dom!lewis, sub!reader, infidelity, unprotected sex, squirting. this hasn't been proofread.

this is part of my taylor swift masterlist which you can find here. thank you to @sainzcaleruega and @landopeaches for always hyping up my writing even when i think it sucks <33

he was arguably one of the most attractive people she'd ever seen. that was a fact. his skin glowed under the harsh lighting, somehow making him look ethereal in a sea of sweaty, aggressively lit men and women, and whenever he looked over in her direction her skin buzzed with a sense of anticipation she didn't find anywhere else. a sense of excitement she hadn't felt for what felt like a lifetime.

as stubborn as he was in these situations, he had to admit - she too, was one of the prettiest women he'd ever laid eyes upon. the way she looked so effortlessly, shamelessly gorgeous in a room full of women who'd tried a little too hard to impress drew him to her like a moth to a flame. she didn't have to try, not for him, anyway.

"can i buy you a drink?"

the line was cheesy, and half-expected when she waltzed up to the bar. he watched her every move, as she weaved her way in and out of the crowd with ease, as if it was a habit. her lips curled up into a half smile and she pondered on the origin of his accent.

"i've got a boyfriend," her eyes raked across the selection of flavoured liquor standing on the shelf, and she waited for his reaction to come. he waivered, only slightly. "but if you want to take me home with you i suggest you try a lot harder than buying me a drink."

the man smirked and stood in closer, only by a few millimeters. his hand draped over the small of her back, and in that moment she noticed his scent. he smelled divine, the scent of richness and old money that she'd scoured so hard to find; he smelt like a man who was familiar with the ins and outs of what he was doing and that was almost enough for her to cave.

"what are you drinking?" he questioned. his voice was soft yet firm, and even under the boom of heavy music, she could hear him crystal clear.

"surely you should be able to tell," she glanced over at him for the first time since he struck up a conversation, but soon faced the liquors again, "a man with your intelligence, expertise. you know what a woman wants, so figure it out."

he admired her nonchalant nature, and so he went ahead and ordered for her, "a whiskey on ice and a tequila sunrise," his eyes flickered over to her as he spoke and immediately flickered back to the barman.

"anything else?"

"two orgasms," the barman almost walked away until she spoke, he nodded, and she glanced over at the pretty man beside her, "i'd ask for a couple more, but that's just being selfish."

he leaned in closer again, his fingers brushing her hipbones and marking his territory to those around him. "it's rude to have no manners," his finger's ran up the side of her dress, feeling out the zip just underneath the armpit so he could toggle on it later, "but then again, you'll be using them later."

"you seem oddly confident," she rose to his game fiercely and feistily, her eyes still avoiding him, "it's almost a pity."

her cockiness was arousing to him. he loved it when women fell at his feet, but this game was so much more entertaining for him to play. he couldn't help but hide a smirk. "we'll see who's going to be pitied when you're desperate enough to beg."

the drinks were brought to the pair of them quickly, and he watched as she knocked back both orgasms without a singular hitch in her face - oh, if only she knew how the orgasms he provided would leave her reeling.

"aren't you going to ask me about my boyfriend, about why i'm here in a crowded club all alone?"

it was clear to him she'd played this game multiple times before, but now she'd just confirmed it. "no," he simply smiled, and when she startled, his face grew wider, "judging by the fact you're out, talking to me, allowing me to buy you drinks, means you don't want to talk about him," his finger circled the rim of his whiskey glass, "but it also tells me you've come here to do this before, time and time again, desperate for somebody to show you a good time. am i right?"

her mouth suddenly went dry.

she sucked the cocktail through the small straw, and he waited patiently for her response.

"you could say that's correct," it pissed her off to admit he was right; she didn't like doing that, "do you think you're up to the task?" her eyes looked right into his, and for the first time that night, she allowed herself to get lost in them, "because i don't think you've got what it takes."

their lips were so close in that moment, she could feel his breath fanning at her skin and it ignited a fire inside of her stomach. the tension could be sliced with a knife, and when he placed his finger on her lips to halt her movements, it drove her crazy.

"you couldn't be more wrong, sweetheart."

"prove it to me, then."

her lips puckered slightly so she could kiss the pad of his finger, but in his haste he allowed himself to divulge in the taste of her tongue. sparks flew inside of her stomach at the prospect of what was inevitably going to happen, and when his tongue slid along her bottom lip, she fought it. Y/N wasn't one for giving in that easily.

"i don't even know your name," the man muttered against her lips, pulling away for a short breath of air in the midst of all his hormones, "and i'd, at the very least, like to tell you mine so you know what name to type into your phone next time you go looking for a man to make you feel good."

"you're so cocky," she hummed, pulling away from him snappishly to fumble on the counter for her drink. she admired the lipstick stain smeared across his chin. "it's almost humbling."

"you're so eager," he retorted, allowing himself a moment of composure. her body language was buzzing, and her eagerness to allow him to have his way with her was radiating off of her skin and bouncing among the pair of them like energy. "you might as well just bend over and let me fuck you in here."

he watched as the glimmer in her eyes shone, and cottoned onto the notion that she loved the thought of that. she knew that he could sense it, too, and she cursed herself for allowing her eyes to be so distinctively emotional.

"your eyes say everything you don't, darling," he paused and leaned closer, and when she went in for another kiss, he laughed. "see, i'm already starting to pity you."

he watched as she knocked back her drink, and as much as he wanted to tease her some more and hang back in the club for an hour or so, this was his forte.

"i hope your boyfriends not expecting you back anytime soon," he grabbed at her hand as he pulled her through the crowd, the manner brash and needy, nothing like the way she waltzed through it last time. "my name's lewis, by the way. you're gonna need to remember that."

/

his hotel room wasn't that far of a journey, and Y/N thanked her lucky stars when her initial thoughts were right - he was rich, and she was going to make sure to be calling him again.

"you still haven't told me your name," he said, handing her a small glass filled with tequila soda.

she took a sip, "is that a bad thing?"

"i'd at least like to know your name before i fuck you, yeah," he took a sip of his and perched on the edge of the armchair opposite her. her legs looked deliciously long and slender from this angle, and the light bounced off of them and caused a sleek shine. "is that a bad thing?"

"i suppose not," she hummed, and leaned forward to place her drink on the table. her cleavage squeezed between her arms as she moved and lewis struggled to keep himself composed. "Y/N."

Y/N.

he felt at peace knowing he had a name to put to the face, and it was just as beautiful as he imagined. she leaned back in her chair and her eyes gazed over him, and he was in awe of how she did everything so effortlessly. he leaned over the coffee table and hovered over her, his hands resting on the arm of her chair.

now that they could see one another clearer, and the atmosphere was less intrusive, there was a self consciousness surrounding them, as if they didn't want to get it wrong or overstep their mark; even though they both knew what they were here to do.

when lewis leaned down to kiss her, she melted into him almost immediately, and any traces of the feisty, fiery lady she once was at the bar had subsided. she was his, ultimately and indefinitely his, for this night.

lewis' hands trailed down her arms and along the stitching of the dress in an attempt to find the zipper from earlier. "may i...?" he asked, although when she'd started to nod, he was already pulling it down.

the dress completely unzipped and when lewis sunk to his knees and helped her to shimmy out of it, she didn't stop him. his lips caressed her thighs, kissing at the hot, slightly sweaty skin just to tease her as his thumbs and forefingers massaged at her calves.

her impatience had begun to seep through and it was clear to him she was beginning to become desperate when he noticed the material of her lace underwear changing colour due to the damp patch. he couldn't help but smirk.

his lips trailed across her pubic bone, that was partially hidden by the flimsy excuse for underwear, and as he kissed along the hot skin, she jolted and shimmied in anticipation.

"waiting for something?"

Y/N bucked her hips, but lewis' hands flew to her thighs and stopped her before she could gain any friction from the contact. "i said," he repeated, "are you waiting for something?"

she grumbled, "if you're not gonna fucking do it, then i'll find someone else who will."

lewis' eyes darkened, and she soon realised she was probably going to regret saying those words. he yanked at the material of her underwear and pulled it off in one swift motion, tossing it over his shoulder. "legs up," he motioned for her to swing her legs onto the arms of the chair, and she obliged, swinging them up onto the arms despite the ache it brought to her thighs. "good girl, you do know how to listen."

he savored the moment, allowing his fingers to slide within her folds and touch her delicately, swirling the pad of his middle finger around her clit and pressing softly into her opening. she was mewling, soft little whimpers and hardly-there noise that screamed out so much.

lewis' tongue swirled around her clit and immediately her hands flew to his dreadlocks. his hands splayed across her thighs as he worked his tongue around her, his facial hair only adding to her sensations.

"you taste so fucking good," he pulled away for a minute, and she looked up to watch him conjuring up spit. "i could stay here all fucking night."

she moaned, tipping her head back and getting lost in the feeling of him. she'd never experienced head like this before, and she couldn't quite contain herself. his hands moved from her thighs down to her bum, where one massaged the flesh and the other trailed up to where she needed attention the most.

"are you sure you can handle this? hm?" he cooed, pulling his lips away from her clit and causing her to cry out, "i don't know if you're ready."

"i am," she pouted, "please, lewis."

he smirked, and with that he pressed two fingers inside of her, and immediately she began to clench. "see, i told you i'd have you begging."

his fingers inside of her felt surreal, the way they hit every ridge and curve so well and slid through her wetness. she was dripping down his hand, she knew it, and she showed no shame. his fingertips curled and when they tickled her g-spot she flinched, her legs shooting outwards with a mind of their own.

"god, fucking hell if you keep on doing that i'm gonna cum."

lewis kissed at the inside of her thigh as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, "what did i tell you earlier about your manners, darling? they really are atrocious."

"i-i'm sorry," she mumbled, "please can i...?"

"please can you what, Y/N?"

she frowned for a second but she was whipped into shape quickly when he slapped her thigh. "please can i cum?"

"see," lewis kissed her clit and made her jolt, "that really wasn't so hard, was it baby?"

she shook her head, and when lewis' movements sped up, she saw it as her sign to cum. her legs trembled and her back arched off of the armchair, and she came hard and fast all over his fingers. he looked up at her with hooded eyes as she came down from her orgasm, her arms were over her head tugging at the armchair cushion and her back was still arched. she looked fucked out already, and her heavy breathing made him hard as a rock.

he knew he needed her now, no more waiting. he had to be inside of her, he wanted to make everyone in the rooms surrounding him know he could pleasure a woman right.

she felt a buzz in her stomach at the manhandling. lewis had picked her up from her state on the armchair and pushed her onto all fours on the adjoining sofa.

"do you still believe that i don't have what it takes, sweetheart?"

she turned her face round to look at him, and when he pulled his shirt off to reveal a body full of tattoos, she almost died on the spot. he knew she was checking him out, and he couldn't help but flex a little as he weaved his belt out of his trousers, and when she shook her head with a smirk on her face, she knew she was in trouble.

"well i think you're a fucking liar." he grabbed at her neck and squeezed the flesh softly until she made an audible choking sound, and then he released her. she continued to admire him through hazy eyes, and when he stood completely naked behind her she almost felt her knees give way.

he lined himself up with her and pushed in all the way, leaving her almost screaming at the fullness. he left her no time to properly adjust to his size before he pulled out and slid back inside her again with ease.

"oh, fuck, lewis," she cried out, her head throwing back. he grabbed ahold of her hips and squeezed at the flesh of her bum, slapping and kneading it between his hands. "you're so fucking big."

he left a slap to her bum once more. he enjoyed the ego boost.

"so fucking tight," he grunted as he continued to thrust, each time getting deeper and deeper, "your boyfriend really doesn't fuck you right, does he baby? hm?"

"no," she whined, a yelp of pain drawn from her lips when he wrapped his hand around her hair and used it as leverage, too. "only you, lewis."

he slapped her bum again. "that's the right fucking answer, only i can fuck you this good," his hips were slamming against her bum now, and lewis watched the constant loop of recoils that took place in front of him. "isn't that right, baby? hm? you're never gonna go to anybody else, that pussy's all mine, isn't it?"

"n-no, sir," she choked out, and lewis audibly growled, "nobody else. yours."

he laughed at her garbled nonsense. "good girl, you sound so pretty now that there's not a thought left in that pretty little head."

Y/N knew she wasn't going to last much longer, and lewis could tell because of the wet sounds her pussy was making as he fucked her, and the way she clenched him like a vice every time he pulled back out.

"gonna cum for me, Y/N?" he left a slap to her bum and pulled her right up against his chest by her hair, until he managed to wrap an arm around her torso and lock her in with his strength. her arms wrapped around his neck and she tugged at his dreads. "come on, baby. i know you can."

his free hand reached around and strummed at her clit, leaving her no wiggling room. the overstimulation became too much, and as lewis' lips bit down on her earlobe, she squirted all around him, her pussy clenching and convulsing uncontrollably as she screamed and rode out her high.

it took everything in lewis not to cum inside of her then and there, but he knew he needed restraint. he needed to be careful.

he pulled out of her and she fell limp, but lewis manhandled her once again, "don't think you're finished yet, baby," he pushed the strands of sweaty hair from her face over to the side of her neck, "i wanna see my dick in your pretty mouth first."

she hummed, and took as much of him in her mouth as she could, and lewis couldn't help but thrust his hips. the contractions of her throat gagging around him made his groan, and he had to suck in deep breaths every time he pushed back into her mouth.

spit trickled down Y/N's chin and pooled at her knees on the floor as she sucked at him sloppily. the movements of her tongue combined with his thrusts down her throat meant he wasn't going to last long.

"hold still," lewis said, bunching her hair up into a ponytail with his hand and fucking her face, the noises falling from her mouth at the sensation enough to make him groan. "fu-uck, that's it. good girl."

one hand fell to her cheek and she looked up at him as his dick slipped in and out of her mouth, and he couldn't hold it in any longer. he pressed the base of his dick flush against her tongue, and admired her pretty face as beads of cum landed on her tongue, nose and cheeks.

she gathered it all up on her tongue and he watched as she let it drool from the tip and trickle down onto her chest, merging with her spit and sweat. he'd never been more ready for another round in his life.

Y/N sat back on her heels and when lewis held out a hand for her to get up, her legs wobbled and she had to wait several moments before they regained usage.

"thank you," she smiled, wiping her chin, "i've not had sex that good in a long time."

"ditto," lewis smiled. the pair of them sat back on the sofa in silence, enjoying the company of the other person. "if you want to stay, you can."

"thank you," she smiled again, a sincere, almost apologetic smile. "i'd love that, but i think i need to shower before i make my mind up."

he nodded, and rose to his feet with an outstretched arm, "come with me, i'll help you clean yourself up."

[lacybunie]

your sweetheart

“why do you look so scared?”

pairing: afab!reader x leon kennedy

warnings: smut, dark content (not dead dove (i think)), established toxic relationship, degrading, suicidal thoughts, implied forced self-harm, gaslighting, heavy manipulation, possessive behavior, praising, semi-soft sex, pet names, tummy bulge, slight strength kink, unprotected sex, biting, ooc leon, he’s crazy

note: you can use any leon for this!

there’s two sides of being in love: being in love and being loved. you always blushed at the hopeful future that you’ll be with the man of your everlasting dreams. a picture of him in a heart locket, your things in his bathroom drawers, knowing how he likes his coffee, his favorite scents, building a domestic life together. although two other men have ever been with you, you were sure this man was special. since by the second date, you were already planning out a wedding.

but leon couldn’t have been the man of your dreams if he was a nightmare in your life. bitter kisses and rough touches are embroidered into your skin that it’s hard to believe that this is the same man who laughed at all your jokes and fake proposed to you with a candy ring. almost two years of agony-filled tears and broken belongings, yet you can not bring yourself to break away from him. maybe the toxicity is what you like. maybe you’re the reason why he’s yelling at you right now.

“you’ll never find someone better than me.” leon spits, grabbing your face with such anger that he could break your jaw if he really hated you. you peer up at him through glassy eyes, tears dried up, and lips cherry bruised. “there’s nobody else for you.” leon manages to still look so divine when he speaks to you like this, star colored hair covering his sapphire eyes just enough for them to peak through. the warm lighting of the kitchen brings out his soft features that pathetically make you swoon.

“i love you.” you whisper, feeling your heart pounding painfully harder and harder as leon stays silent. his grip on your face leaves as his lips tug into a grin, tongue between his canines. “of course you do.” leon gloats as if he’s won the lottery, intertwining his hand with the handle of the kitchen knife residing in the wooden cube. the food you made for dinner is threatening to come back up when leon waves the knife in front of you. “don’t please.” you plead softly as the blood pumping in your veins becomes ice cold.

“think i’m gonna hurt you?” leon breathes lowly, getting closer to your weak form. your doe eyes take in the way his eyes glimmer with amusement, a smirk finding its home on his lips, he’s clearly basking in this. “no.” you mumble, swallowing dry saliva when the tip of the knife brushes against your neck. you don’t think, you know he would but he chooses not to. “i could kill you.” leon hums, dragging the knife across your forearm before letting it linger on your wrist. his eyes capture yours, a faint flame flickering behind them. free falling down to the concrete pavement would be more peaceful than this.

“you could kill me.” he suggests, forcing the handle of the knife into your hand. you shake your head, stomach eating itself when leon leads your hand to his chest. “you’d like that.” “i wouldn’t.” “don’t fucking lie.” he spews as if you’re the one who said it. lips tremble in frustration as you cannot comprehend what leon is doing, you don’t even know how it all went wrong ten minutes ago. how washing dishes together suddenly became leon degrading you, threatening you. the pitter-patter of rain against the roof is the only thing keeping you from vomiting, and leon yelling at you for doing so.

“would you die for me?” leon questions, closing the gap between you two, the knife quickly withdrawing to your side. the warmth of his body radiates to you, making hell seem cold. your eyebrows knit together at his words, why would he ask that? “i’d do anything for you but-” “i want you to die for me.” leon interrupts you with a exasperated tone. your hands shake as tears welled up in your exhausted eyes, you just want to go to bed. you carefully place the knife on the kitchen island, unsure of what to do as leon’s eyes bore into yours.

“leon, can i please get ready for bed?” you sigh, wiping at the tears barely escaping your eyes. the echo of thunder booms throughout the apartment causing the atmosphere to be more daunting. a scoff leaves leon’s mouth, his jaw tightening at your response. you pissed him off. “hate me so much that you can’t answer a simple question.” leon sneers with venom on his tongue. his stature towers yours, your gut churns at the feeling of being so weak. runny eyes divert down to your ruffled baby pink socks, they’ve never seemed more interesting.

“your question is stupid.” you mutter under your breath before your jaw is gripped once more as leon forces you to look up at him. the blue hues swirling in his eyes are dark and cold, matching the storm outside. bones ache at the posture leon holds you in, he can snap your neck if he pulled back just a tiny bit further. “who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” leon’s words cut through your head and pierce your brain. the tears you cry match the pace of the rain knocking at the windows. “i’m so sorry, leon. i’ll die for you, i’ll do anything for you! please let me go to bed.” you’re so pathetic.

“is that so?” “yes! please!” you cry into his palm, looking up at him and hoping he has mercy on your damaged soul. leon’s eyes glance at the kitchen island as a smirk slowly finds its way on his pink lips. relief hugs you when he finally lets you go, your shaky hands rub the tender skin of your jaw. of course he doesn’t let you leave yet, of course he doesn’t let you go find peace in the one place where you’re the most safe. “carve my name into your wrist.” leon says so nonchalantly that you think he’s almost joking. the kitchen knife is placed back into your hand, you’re so dumbfounded that you stare back at yourself in the blade’s reflection.

“what?” you exhale out, ridding yourself of the fear from seconds ago only to breathe it back in. the blue-black eyes looking back at you are unrecognizable. “i’ll do anything for you!” leon mocks, you want to vomit. you want to scream and rip your hair out, you want to jab the knife into your heart instead. death would be much more blissful than being here right now. “i don’t want to do this, leon.” “i’ll do it for you.” leon threatens, his warm hands grab at your wrist but you quickly step back to get them off you. “i’ll do it.” your voice is barely audible, your mouth becomes dry when you shakily place the blade onto your wrist. what are you doing? “just four letters and you’ll go to bed.”

leon’s educated hands carefully bandage up your wounded wrist. your face rests in his chest, slowly breathing in the scent of vanilla. “you did so great.” leon smiles before placing tender kisses upon the white fabric covering your arm. the numbness drowning your body is blocking any feeling, including your thoughts. you’re surprised you didn’t cut a vein. you wished you did. “you’re so mean to me, leon.” you whisper, eyes blurring in and out from drowsiness. why couldn’t he be nicer to you? why couldn’t he leave you alone? why can’t you quit him?

“i’m not mean to you, doll. i wouldn’t be doing this if i didn’t care about you.” leon reassures you with eyes shining like blue akoya pearls. your mouth can’t get any words out when the cologne lingering on his skin has your stomach in knots, reminding you that you’re the one who bought it for him on his birthday. he gives you the same wry smile that was on his lips that day. maybe you’re the mean one. maybe this is all your fault. “you would’ve killed yourself if it wasn’t for me.” he’s right, you would’ve bled out on the pearlescent tiled kitchen and suffer a painful death if he didn’t care. there’s a sharp pain in your head that has you wondering if this is all just a horrible nightmare.

needles prickle into your sore body as leon carefully picks you up, you catch your reflection in the mirror for a spilt second. eyes puffy and skin pale, drained. before you can react, you’re in sweet relief when the comfort of leon’s bed engulfs you. “such a gorgeous girl, how did i get so lucky?” leon hums as his eyes link with yours, affection glosses over the blue. the dim lighting illuminating this somber room, accompanied by the rain outside, is enough to lure you to sleep. the blur in your eyes goes dark for just a moment as your slumber takes over. yet you can’t seem to rest with the way leon is soothing the skin of your thighs. your cunt is throbbing.

“take it off please.” you whimper, gesturing to the blood stained dress hugging your figure. your body trembles as the cotton fabric is slowly ripped away, leon’s hands tenderly kneading warmth into your cold flesh. dark eyes locked onto your lips with each soft gasp you make, observing how you react to the gentle touches to your thighs. the fuzziness in your stomach heats gradually, just enough for your panties to get damper. leon’s fingers stray away from the thin silk covering where you need him most. your thighs rub together as you whine. “what do you want, hm?” his voice is an octave lower, raspy. he wants you just as much.

the echos of thunder are as loud as your pounding heart when you grasp leon’s hand, leading it to your cunt. a tongue in cheek smirk is hazy in your vision when leon hovers over your frame. “c’mon sweet girl, use your words. don’t get shy now.” his voice is sugary water for your dry throat, the want is burning you alive. lips impatiently connect with his in a desperate attempt for leon to stop stalling and fuck you right there. a gasp is caught in your chest when his fingers harshly rub your covered clit before pulling away from your blushed lips. the thumps of your heart rings in your ears.

“i want you to fuck me.” you mutter with a mouth full of cotton, running a hand over his chest and under his tightly-fitted shirt. the precum sticking to your panties is soaking the fabric as your fingers trace over leon’s toned stomach. “yeah? you’ve been such a good girl for me tonight.” leon smiles while kissing your cheek. his mouth finds solace in your neck, sucking pinks into your skin. “i need you.” the smirk he makes against your neck gives you whiplash. he can probably feel your racing heart pulse against his lips.

leon swiftly takes off his shirt, scattered scars compliment his sculpted build so well that you feel nauseous with desire. “i need you more, baby.” he cooed. his lips find yours again, the taste of mint coats your tongue. you like the way he kisses you, as if your lips are a blaze that he needs to warm up. leon’s hands make quick work of your panties, nudging his knee in between your thighs which has you grinding on his leg. “dirty girl.” he breathes out. the friction is not enough for your soppy cunt, needing more, needing his cock to relieve you. you want him to break you open, to ease the pain he put you through moments ago.

the crackle of lightning illuminates the room in blue, combating the blue in leon’s eyes. hands shake ever so slightly as you impatiently unbuckle his belt, your wrist is on fire when the metal buckle grazes against the bandage. “you’re gonna hurt yourself.” leon warns, replacing your hands with his. you suppress a moan once leon finally rids himself of his jeans, his cock slapping against his abdomen as he shoves his boxers off. you’re salivating like a starved animal at the sight, the tip of his cock shines with precum. death couldn’t be more blissful than leon.

“you look so cute like this, your body begging f’me.” leon smirks, rubbing the tip of his cock on your clit. the moans vibrating through your throat almost hurts. you’re fiending for him, weeping for him, you could cum at the thought of him fucking you. there’s a hand caressing your cheek, breaking you out of your hypnotic state. leon looks at you with infatuation, or lust, you can never differentiate the two. you do know both looks has your heart bursting. “i love you.” “i know.” he kisses the apple of your cheeks as his cock stretches you out, the air in your lungs exits out in broken whimpers and moans.

leon hides his face in the crook of your bruised neck, his hips slowly snapping against yours. fingertips trace the scars etched into his back, creating new ones as your nails break his skin when the curve of his cock hits your cervix so sweetly. the rhythm he keeps up is enough to make you dizzy. the low moans eliciting from his lips are intoxicating, you grow wetter at the sound. “love this tight pussy, so perfect.” his teeth bite into your shoulder, lapping at the irritated skin with his tongue. you think you see god when the repeated thrusts and bites to your skin is twisting the coil in your stomach in knots.

leon’s hands grip your hips as your cunt tightens around his cock, the loudest spark of lightning hits your ears when leon presses a hand down your lower abdomen. you think you’ve lost it at the feeling of leon’s cock rubbing against his hand, against your stomach. your hand reaches down to feel him and god, you want to cum so badly. “harder, please.” you moan out, chest heavy at the feeling of him splitting you open. his head rests up against yours, eyes searching your tear stained face as his thrusts become harsh. a stray tear cascades down your cheek at the sudden change yet you’re still pathetically moaning out leon’s name.

“greedy little thing you are.” leon groans as he catches your lips in a sloppy kiss. you’re sharing moans in between breaths as leon relentlessly buries himself into your cunt, his fingers finding their place on your clit. the smell of sex and mercury blending into the sounds of skin against skin and thunder makes the pounding in your head almost pierce your ears. you feel faint, like the ecstasy you’re receiving is too much for your body. legs wrap around leon’s hips in an attempt to get him closer to you, his chest is sweaty against yours. hearts beating in sync, both racing erratically.

the overwhelming desire flowing throughout your veins is lethal, an overdose of leon. your chest heaves as you try to gather your surroundings as leon fucks you as if you’re everything yet nothing. there’s tears on the brink of pouring out of your itchy eyes but you hold them back. you wonder what leon is thinking, if he’s overdosing on you as well or if he’s thinking about getting off. “fuck, keep squeezing my cock like that.” he moans, biting the flesh of your neck.

the fuzziness in your stomach is too much to bear when leon’s cock abuses your gummy walls repeatedly. you can’t feel your face, your body, just leon. fingers tug at his hair which earns a grunt from his lips as his own fingers messily rub at your clit. the whines drawing out from you are pitiful, letting leon know you’re about to break. but he knew that before the whines left your mouth, the way your desperate cunt is gripping around him is enough to make anybody get the hint. “cum on my cock, sweetheart. can you do that f’me?”

the nails clawing at leon’s back sink into his flesh as your orgasm crashes into your body. mouth agape yet nothing comes out, eyes screwed shut, back arching off the soft mattress, legs shaking at the intensity. “there you go, baby.” leon praises, kissing you gently as he continues to fuck your cunt. you hold his face as if he’s the only thing keeping you from blacking out. “i love you.” you confess for the umpteenth time as you’re gasping for air, heart punching itself out of your chest. leon weakly smiles, muttering something incoherent against your lips before pulling his cock out of your bruised cunt, cumming on your stomach and thighs with the sweetest moan.

leon’s body collapses on top of yours, exhaustion consuming you as you come down from the euphoric high. the sound of leon breathing and the soft knocks of rain at the window are a lullaby for your depleted mind. the colors of warm white and blue are blurred as your eyes struggle to stay open. a sting in your arm pulls you back into consciousness. you wince at the feeling. eyes drift to look over at your bandage wrist. leon’s hand is gripped around your injury, squeezing with such strength that reminds you that he could break you if he really hated you. you almost forgot why there’s four letters carved in your wrist, why your mind is exhausted from crying, why you got fucked so lovingly yet so resentfully.

a giddy smile hurts your cheeks as leon suffocates you with peppered kisses around your face. “let’s get you ready for bed.” leon says on your damp skin, his hand leaving his name on your wrist.

[kosmosguk]

Lineage (M) | Special Chapter: How It Began

Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be. But many years before the events of Lineage's main story takes place, there was once only the love of a beloved goddess and a damned demon.

Warnings:  HEAVY yandere themes, death, gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, mentions of smut, 18+, explicit language

A/N: Surprise, everyone! It's been, what, 4 years since I finished Lineage and 3 years since I stopped writing on this blog. I've been through a lot of ups and downs in the meantime (to underplay it), but I'm now in a pretty good spot. I've thought about writing this for years and there's probably at least 10 incomplete versions of this on my old laptop, but writer's slump was a huge barrier. It wasn't until a conversation with a roommate who had complained that a fic she liked was never fully fully complete that I thought about trying again, from scratch, to complete this part for Lineage. Lineage will always be my baby, and on a reread of it to prepare to write this chapter, the me of the past did do better than expected (probably better than the me of today). I don't know if any of my original readers are still here from the days when I was active on this blog, but even if it's just one, I hope I brought this story alive just a little longer. Will I write the epilogue though (which also has 10+ incomplete drafts)? We'll see :) Hopefully it won't take another 4 years!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Special Chapter |

A beautiful clearing stretched on underneath the heat of a sun that always remained warm. It was green and lush, but void of any budding blooms. There were bits of dried flowers that showed that there might have been flowers once, which had blossomed as quick back then as rain drops fell from the sky. This clearing was eternal, and it could only be changed by the touch of a being blessed by the divine or damned by the evil.

A man, cloaked in black, bent down into the clearing. There was only one more bloom now that still remained, a reminder of a time that seemed distant and far. It was hard to pick out from the shadows that spread from his feet, but he restrained the shadows until the yellow flower could tentatively peek out through the green.

It was time now. He could bring her back. She would fill this clearing with flowers again like she did before, and she would laugh as he clumsily wove together a crown from them.

He plucked the flower out of the grass and pressed it against his lips tenderly. It shriveled and dried up, leaving a colorless husk. He let it flutter out of his grasp and looked up at the sun for the first time in his existence.

"I will bring you back," he promised then. His voice sounded like he had not spoken in many years. He pulled out his sword and pierced it into the grass, watching the green shrivel into gray.

In the glint of his sword, there was a reflection of a young maiden, her fists kneading against a ball of dough. When she moved slightly, nudging the hair off of her shoulders, a hint of red was seen on her skin.

You were born in a field of flowers, blooming beautifully underneath a sky lit with gold. The daughter of the God of Life and the Goddess of Creation, you were beloved by all beings who relied on the earth to live. You, who had lived under the protection of all who was Good, were woefully ignorant of the true darkness of those who lived in the shadows of Evil.

But then on a peaceful day, not unlike the day you had been born, you realized then how easy it was for Evil to creep into the realm of the Good.

“Wake up, my goddess!”

You flinched, peeking your eyes open to the Fairy of Tulips pulling the hem of your tunic with her small fists. “I am sleeping, Little Tulip. Only official orders will wake me.”

The sun was warm against your skin, and the clarity of your mind was still soft from the blurry haze of sleep. Though deities had little need for sleep, your habit of naps was known far and wide through the Creators’ realm. You tried to close your eyes again, nestling back into the bed of grass, and brush her off your clothes, but she clung onto your palm, chomping on your thumb. You yelped, now wide awake.

She squinted down at you, fluttering up off your palm, and placed her hands on her hips, the sunrise tulip petals adorning her body swaying in her frenzy. “The flowers have been murmuring that there’s evil nearby! We have to leave. Now!”

You laughed. Evil? Evil had not existed in this realm for many eons, after the War ended with victory of the Good. But when the little fairy’s expression didn’t show a hint of amusement and the muttering of the flowers around you remained, you frowned and pushed yourself up to stand.

“If you are certain of evil, then I will bring myself to check it out. It would not do any of us good if I left the situation unchecked, as we are by the border of the realm.” You stepped forward, flowers blooming underfoot to soften your path. The little fairy tugged at your clothes, hoping to stop you, but you kept walking further away from the clearing you had been lazing in towards the forest by it. Instead of the welcoming lush green that usually greeted you, the forest was coated in darkness.  

When the muttering of the flowers pitched in volume, you knew you were getting close. You placed your hands out, ready to call for nature’s aid if the situation called for it. However, instead of some vile creature looming over you with venom oozing from its pores, a young man laid in the midst of the darkness. A closer look prompted a gasp to leave your lips. He was beautiful, more beautiful than any deity you had ever seen, and if you had not been entrenched in shadows, you could have been fooled to believe him holy. But the oozing black blood from the wound on his side and his eyes, which flickered open to glower at you, were a startling red.

He scooted back, his free hand falling to the blade by him.

“I will not hurt you!” you spoke before you could process the thought, mesmerized by the sight of his eyes. You showed him your hands. Your eyes dropped to the curve of his lips, which if it had not been pulled in a sneer would have been lush and have softened his features. “I am a healer and a grower, not a killer.”

His expression decreased in hostility. You hesitatingly asked: “Is it alright if I come close? You can keep your sword by you, and if I do anything unpleasant, I will understand if you slay me but...” You teetered for a moment. “But if you kill me, I cannot ensure your safety and that would be bad for you and me. Me because I would be dead and you because you would also be dead and...”

You were interrupted by a laugh. Your eyes flickered back to him. He looked startled at the sound he had made, and you smiled brightly in response. You took a step closer. When he did not tense, you dropped to your knees and raised your palm over his side. You lifted your gaze to meet his, and both of you sat in an entranced silence, staring at the other. His eyes dropped to your lips, though there was still a guarded look to him, and you held your breath.

“Do you want me to put my hand down?”

“What?” you sputtered. Oh. Heat burned at your cheeks as you noticed the playful tug of his lips. You nodded quickly. He must have thought you were amusing. You focused back on healing, and you would leave and tell Little Tulip to not say a word. You vowed that you would never see this brute, who enjoyed your embarrassment, again.

When he dropped his hand, you called your healing power, but the unpleasant quirk of your lips increased the time it took to fully heal his wound. When the flesh closed over the wound, you leapt back to your feet. You felt foolish, very unlike the noble and dignified deity you were supposed to be.

“I am going now. I will not tell a soul about you. You do not need to thank me, but I will tell you that you must not wander into this realm again. I guarantee that the next deity you meet will not be as forgiving as me and...”

Your lips pinched together when you felt his touch around your wrist. He pulled your hand down, and lifted his head to kiss the inside of your palm. You flinched at the press of his lips on your skin. He looked up at you, mistrust no longer in his eyes. “You are my savior. May I not be able to see you anymore?”

You dropped your gaze from his. If he heeded your words and you no longer saw him again, would the emptiness in you at the thought grow more and more?

“Only here,” your voice was but above a whisper. “If I see your shadows in the woods, I will come find you. But you must not come find me.”

He was silent for a second. “You are as cruel as you are kind, my goddess.”

He still had not let go of your hand and though his touch was cold, you felt fire licking up where his fingers made contact with your skin. You pulled your hand back like he had scalded you and spun on your heel, flowers having barely enough time to bloom underneath your bare feet with the quickness that you fled.

When you left the woods, your feet scratched up for the first time in your existence and your cheeks red, you could only force yourself to squeeze out a sentence at the quivering little fairy: “There was no evil.”

Your encounters with him continued, in secret and away from prying eyes. You talked about your visits to the human world: the songs you had heard and how you wished you could have danced and the loaves of bread you spotted cooling on the tables. You even talked about how your duties burdened you, though you were made to fulfill them, and how you felt like you were only able to handle them out of love for your humans. He talked about the books he had picked up in the human world, how he had found them meager and naïve at first and then interesting, and the little lake of lava he had grown up by and skipped rocks in. Though he spoke very little, when he did, you were captured by him.

And with the increase of encounters, your feelings of love, which you had reserved for only the creations that had been blessed by the hands of the Creators, grew. You let him hold you close to his chest, and when you laid your head on his flesh, you swore you could almost hear a heart beat quicker and quicker.

On your seventh encounter, when you had brought a basket of flowers into the woods to weave into crowns, you had placed one on his head. When he reached out into your basket and pulled out a handful of flowers, you watched him clumsily weave the flowers together and place the lopsided crown on your head. How could this man, as tender and clumsy as he was, be evil?

When he looked dejected at the sight of the crown limply hanging onto your head, you laughed and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. You had seen your lovely humans do this to express their adoration. And it was accurate to the moment: you adored him, to the point where you could ignore where his origins had laid root in.

Immediately, his hands reached up around your waist and pressed you close until you were on his lap. You gasped against his lips, and his tongue was in your mouth, delving into its depths. You burned underneath his exploration, your hands clenching onto his clothes into fists. Oh, you had never known pleasure like this, so unlike the simpleminded happiness you felt watching the trees hum in the wind and your humans create art. This pleasure was different: it blazed hotly, burning down trees and creating destruction in its path.

When the two of you were separated, your eyes blurred in a haze, he brushed his finger over the plumpness of your bottom lip, soaked in the mixture of saliva. His eyes were filled with anguish, but for what, you did not know. “My name is Yoongi.”

You let out a startled gasp at this. Oh. Oh no. You knew this name. You pushed away from him and onto your feet, flinging an arm out to point at him. “You are the Demon God. You...!”  

He was on his feet now, his hands reaching out to grab onto you. But you were inconsolable, banging your fists on his chest. Fire burned before your gaze, glimpses of your beloved humans hopelessly shielding their children from horrible monsters that would tear them apart and consume their remains. You knew those screams. You could hear them even now.

“You are the one to harm my beloved humans! I have seen your creations rise up, full of evil and malice. I have seen them destroy and terrorize and kill-!”

He held your hands to his chest, pressing your fists against where his heart would have been had he been human. The fight drained out of you, as you laid limply in his embrace, tears wetting the fabric of his clothes. His voice was ragged as he spoke. “I am full of evil, my goddess. I was full of evil. I admit, I who had been wandering in darkness did not know good. But you, who could have slain me, showed me good when you saved me. I can be good for you, as long as you do not leave me. You hold my pitiful existence in your hands.”

He reached up a hand to touch the flower crown. The crown disintegrated underneath his touch, leaving bits of ashes. “You see, whatever I touch, I destroy. But with you, I can control this damned ability of mine. I can see reason.” He swallowed heavily. “I can see you. And when I see you, I see all that is good. I can see the flowers that you love to smell and out of all of them, you love lilies the most. I can see that you love humans, though they pillage and lie and kill. I can see why all beings seek the warmth of the day and fear the coldness of night.”

You looked up at him. You could only see the redness of his eyes then. But beneath it, there was a being who you were certain loved you. And you loved him, as much as you loved your humans. He, who was evil, was nothing more than a creation led astray.

“I am sorry,” you finally whispered, a stray tear slipping down your cheek. “I...You will have to give me time.”

When you pushed yourself away from him, this time for good, you walked away.

When he saw that you had left without even a look back at him, he looked up as a large crow flew down. When it landed, it transformed into that of a handsome man with narrow eyes and bronzed skin and cheeks that would have revealed a dimple had he been a smiler.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi spoke, “Keep an eye on her for me. I will leave to deal with the issues of the Demon Realm.”

Namjoon nodded his head and hummed in agreement. “I will. A favor for a friend.”

Yoongi laughed. “Your associations with humans have made you more like them. A demon has no need for friends. In our existence, there are those who lead, and those who follow.”

Namjoon turned his head to look at where the little goddess had been. “And how would you describe her: a leader or a follower?”

Yoongi’s hands clenched briefly, like he could still feel her warmth, and his eyes were still pinned to where she had been. “She is holy. Holier than my damned existence. And yet I still want to monopolize her and make her look only at me.”

“So then?” Namjoon asked again. “How would you categorize her?”

Yoongi remained silent for a moment. Then, he vanished, leaving Namjoon alone in the forest. Namjoon thought to himself then: what about this little goddess captured the attention of a demon that had been damned from the beginning?

Namjoon kept a careful eye on the goddess. Though on the surface, it was due to orders from his liege, he could not help the insatiable curiosity about her. She was kind—though kindness was not much familiar to a demon like him. She certainly loved those humans, as foolish and terrible they were. And when she watched a wedding, there was a certain sadness lingering in her eyes that captured him.

And so, as Yoongi remained away from her side, Namjoon found himself fixated on this presence.

He had been following her in a crow form when he was caught by the pudgy hands of some kid who was little more than the neighborhood bully. The kid had thrown him onto the ground and menacingly reached down to start plucking at his feathers. He had thought about growing back into a fierce snake, who could rear up to bite the human that dared to grab him and leave him on the verge of death, when a voice cried out.

“Leave that bird alone!”

The child bully looked up, prepared to viciously attack the person who dared to interrupt his fun time, but swallowed his words at the sight of the glowering adult. The little goddess had taken on the form of a muscular man, with biceps that bulged like the size of a boulder, and the kid had been too flustered to come up with a retort. Instead, the kid dropped Namjoon’s bird form and sped off.

When the muscular man shifted back into the form of the little goddess, Namjoon watched as you ran up to him and lifted him up to inspect him. “Oh, I am so glad you were not harmed! I love those humans, but I do not particularly enjoy it when they decide to hurt other innocent beings.” You squinted down at him with analytical eyes. Namjoon gulped, fearing that you would have caught onto the true self that lingered underneath the disguise. “Do you think I was too mean by taking on that scary form, right?”

Namjoon shook his head, forgetting that birds should not have understood the human language. But you laughed like this was to be expected, and Namjoon felt silly: of course, animals like birds would understand the words of this goddess. “Good! Well, I will let you be now, little guy. Try to be more careful, so you will not get caught again. You are a handsome bird, with very beautiful feathers. There are many humans who would catch you just to capture your feathers.”

Namjoon puffed up in pleasure. Of course, he was beautiful. He was a high-ranking demon. This crow form was nothing for him. If anything, he was the most handsome crow out of all the crows that occupied the human realm. He squinted his eyes. What was he even thinking?

In his agitation, he fluttered his wings and flapped away, ignoring the tinkling sound of laughter that she made when he almost rammed into a tree branch.

When Yoongi returned and had asked Namjoon on how his goddess had fared without seeing him, Namjoon could not help the zip of pleasure that ran through him when he had answered that she had been more than fine, and Yoongi had glowered in response.

Namjoon then understood why Yoongi had been unable to answer him when he had asked which category the little goddess had occupied. She was neither a leader nor a follower. Her existence itself was a source of contentment, of happiness that destroyed the boundary between who was meant to control and who was meant to be controlled.

There were many creations that were beautiful. And there were few creations that were both beautiful and kind. But beautiful and kind creations never lived long.

You loved most the most beautiful and kind of the humans: a young girl who had lived as a daughter of a baron. You had chanced upon her on one of your visits, watching her help the poor though her family itself had little means, and when she had begged for help from a deity to help save her from her plight, you had been listening to her pleas that she not be sold to the vicious king that ruled over her kingdom.

You did something that you reserved for only your most favorite humans: you appeared in front of her. When you had offered her a way to avoid the favor of the king—a bell that would turn her into a bird that could fly out of the king’s grasp—she had laid on the ground and kissed your feet in joy.

But word of the goddess that appeared with the golden bell spread far and wide. And when you entered the human realm, wanting to see how that human girl was faring, you were soon captured by the king’s army. When you were lead to the throne room, your hands wrapped in chains, you were distraught at the sight of your most favorite human pointing at you.

“This is the goddess!” she declared. She turned to the king, who looked like a walking corpse with sallow skin and hollow cheeks underneath the gold and silk he wore. “Your majesty, I implore you to remember our deal. For her capture, you will let go of my parents and give us enough gold to revitalize our land and tend to our people.”

Oh, though she had betrayed you so, you felt a rush of pride. Betrayal for a good reason, you could tolerate, for you loved her so. But the king had merely raised his hand, and a knight rushed forward with a fell swoop of his sword. When her head, bloody, fell in front of you, you let out a ragged cry.

The king knelt down in front of you, a blade in his hand. You flinched as he wielded the knife...and sliced his palm open. He reached up to cup your cheek, smearing his blood on your flesh. “I heard tears from a goddess could cure all wounds.”

He lifted his palm back and watched with awe as the wound on his palm closed up. His eyes glowed with a sick greed. “Then it must be true. That the blood of a goddess can cure all ailment. You know, I had this knife brought to me for this very moment when I first heard the legends. It is made of a terrible evil capable of killing good. You should know that I was granted this knife from the Demon God himself after I sacrificed many peasants.”

He raised the knife and sliced your palm. You felt pain for the first time in your existence, but even more hurtful, you felt anguish bite at what might have been your heart. Gold ichor spilled out of your wound, and he hastily bent down to drink your blood. Color returned to his cheeks at once. You watched in disgust and horror as he laughed with glee. He sobered up, looking down at you. His eyes glittered with the remnants of the sickness that had imprisoned him so.

“Then it must be true. That the sacrifice of a goddess can fulfill any wish, a wish that would last for all of time. Your death can bring anyone back to life. For with your death, life will follow. I will be able to see my wife then.” He lifted the knife, and you were silent as he brought it down in a fell swoop. The blade pierced the flesh above your clavicle, but not a sound of pain left your lips. You pinched them together, even as your body collapsed on the cold floor.

You thought of Yoongi then. You wanted to let him know that you forgave him, for his deceit and for how he had tricked your beloved humans. But you were no longer capable of doing so. You were bleeding out on this floor, just like any other mortal that you had loved. You hoped that the Creators would not hurt the humans who had harmed you. There were many you had loved. And you knew that the Creators loved them even more so.

You saw a flash of red in front of your blurry gaze. A voice called your name, begging. You had never heard a voice that despaired like this voice did. You wondered, for a moment, why it sounded like Yoongi. Something wet splashed onto your skin, the sound of a crackle and a pop following. Ah, the tears of a demon, unlike the tears of a god, caused pain. But you did not feel any pain, not now. Ah, it was Yoongi.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you saw good in him, that even when you were not around he could still be good. But your time, which had seemed to stretch on infinitely before, was now finite, limited by a few seconds left.

You whispered, gasping out short little breaths between the words. “I...forgive...all.”

“Wake...!” you heard.

And then you could speak no longer. And you could hear no longer.

The end of the realms was imminent. Underneath the grief of the ruler of the demon realm, fires roared and overtook earth. Soon, once earth was taken and destroyed, rage would spread and bring all that existed down to the burning afterworld.

The God of Life could not stand by and witness the end of all that he had created. When he had found himself in front of the Demon God, he had been prepared for the sword that the Demon God had pointed at his chest.

“You...! She is your daughter, and you wish me to spare the lives of the humans who...!” The Demon God had screamed in anguish. He laughed then, the sound ironic and cruel. "I know you beings are both cruel and kind. For if she had been less kind, she would have been less cruel, choosing her love of humans over...over our love."

The God of Life loved all he created very much. And he had loved his daughter, who had sprung forth from the love he had with his wife, very much as well. But as the Giver of Life, he was unable to upset the balance of the world he had created, not when the balance was so fragile. He could not bring his daughter back. Not without an equal trade. Not without a deal.

“More than you would ever know in your damned existence, I love her very much." Loved. "Yet, I too am unable to go against the tide of Fate." In that moment, for the first time in his existence that had always been steady and predictable, the God of Life relented.

"However, there is a chance for her to return.” He started. “But you must adhere to what I will tell you. So that you will not destroy the world, I will tell you of how you may be granted mercy from Fate. But there is little in this world that is certain."

The Demon God was silent now, his face stony and emotionless. But there was something dangerous taking root in his eyes. A sickness that could not be cured: Hope.

And Hope was the most dangerous thing, for as much as it could create, it could also destroy. Hope would be the reason why humanity would continue. And hope would be the reason why the king, who in his madness had killed a deity, did not die. And why many, many years later, a princess that once had been the most loved existence in all of the realms would be born into this kingdom in the absence of love.

For hope could destroy lineage, as much as it tried to preserve it.

A/N: As always, leave a comment! Though I'm not active like I used to be, I do check messages that come into my inbox and do see when y'all (if anyone is still here haha) comment. If anything, another motivator that had me come back to this blog just for this story was someone who messaged me two years ago. @theedungeonwitch, though I was in a not so great place then and wasn't able to respond to you, I'm leaving my flowers here for you now. No tag list, since I'm not sure who's still here and still willing to read this chapter :)

[raynesbunny]

WHAT MAKES THEM EMBARRASSED?

Mashle headcanon!

💌: GN!reader, fluff

⚠️: Ooc and maybe cringe, slight suggestive on Orter's part?

Requested by: @rainee-da

Characters: Orter Madl, Rayne Ames, Abyss Razor

Others: Guess who's back! I was thinking of finishing all the short stories before going back, though— but I don't want to keep you guys waiting! I'll feel very bad if I do so｡:ﾟ(;´∩`;)ﾟ:｡ Angst Rayne A. x reader coming soon! Still fixing a lot of errors<33 Enjoy reading, pookies!(≧▽≦) (this is my first time writing a headcanon so please do leave a message if there are errors!)

—

Orter Màdl

♡ It's almost impossible to make this man feel embarrassed; he hardly shows any expressions regardless of what others do—always wearing a straight and serious face! Many have attempted to make him laugh and smile, but their efforts have always been in vain, no matter how much they've tried. It almost seemed like expressing emotions is against the rules to him!

♡ And then there's you, his dearest, his partner, his beloved, his darling, his sweetheart, his sunshine, his angel, his lover, the one who melted his icy heart and kept it warm—the only one capable of evoking emotions within him that he never thought he would experience someday. (although, this rule-obsessed man cannot bring himself to admit it openly!)

♡ If there's one thing that can make Orter feel embarrassed, it would be your unexpected, sneaky and quick yet soft kisses and pecks!

♡ Whenever you peck his cheek, his brain momentarily stops functioning, and his heart flutters. His body freezes (and a faint blush is visible on his cheeks) at the touch of your soft lips against his skin.

♡ Your innocent and delicate feathered kisses drives him wild, but he would never dare to utter a word about his longing for more of those adorable little kisses!

Extra:

♡ Today was another busy day for the young man, Orter Màdl. Well— busier than usual that he had forgotten to bring his lunch with him.

And here you are, now in his office to deliver the homemade lunch to your hard-working lover, along with an encouraging letter you poured your heart into creating!

Upon noticing your presence, Orter averted his gaze from his work and looked up at your approaching figure with a small bag in your hand.

"What brings you here?" he asked.

"You forgot your lunch at home, and I won't allow my man to work with an empty stomach, so I decided to bring it here to you," you replied.

Orter remained silent, choosing to turn his focus back to his paperwork. However, his shoulders seemed more relaxed now, and his facial expression had softened. That sight alone was enough for you to know that he was grateful, and he doesn't need to express it through words or pay you back.

(The pile of paperwork on his desk bothered you. You seriously wanted to help, but this stubborn boyfriend of yours would not let you, and you were left with no choice.)

(Last time, you tried helping him, but it only ended up with you wrapped in his sand magic.)

"Here's your lunch, by the way. Don't forget to eat it at lunchtime," you said, placing the small bag with his lunchbox inside on his desk. When you heard no answer, you glanced at him, seeing that he was focused on his work.

This seemed to be the perfect time to take the chance and sneak a kiss.

As your lips were about to reach his cheek, Orter turned around (on purpose), causing your lips to meet his instead.

You were about to pull away immediately, only for the desert cane to grab your wrists, pin you down on his desk and deepen the kiss, preventing you from moving and keeping the kiss from breaking. Leaving you breathless and blushing, a flustered mess.

—

Rayne Ames

♡ Just like the rule-obsessed divine visionary, he's often cold and serious. But believe me when I say that he isn't cruel! He's just having a hard time expressing that he actually cares for the people, especially those whom he's fond of, interested in, and of course- you.

♡ Speaking of you, you are his everything. He'd do anything to keep you safe, make you feel loved, respected, and comforted! Even with his busy schedule, he'll find a way to prioritize you, no matter what. (You matter the most in his life, aside from his rabbits and Finn, of course he'll prioritize those who are important to him.) Though, there are times that he must attend to his duties first, but he'll be sure to make it up to you! It just takes some time, and hopefully you'll understand.

♡ And when I say you're his everything, I mean; you're his joy, his comfort, his warmth, his flower, his world, his dream, his reason to smile, his strength, his motivation, his star, his light—

♡ If there is something that makes this man embarrassed, it's the way you know or understand what he wants (sometimes mentioning it) and letting him know that you have given him your consent!

♡ He will hesitate at first, but will give in as soon as he knows that you are certain. Like those days where he was staring down at your lips with a troubled expression, and this will never go unnoticed by you.

♡ You held yourself back from laughing, it was truly an adorable and amusing sight!

♡ You would press your forehead against his, your lips parting to mutter the words that you have given him your consent.

♡ Rayne's face would turn bright red, his gaze snapping to you with a look of embarrassment. He cannot believe he got caught again!

♡ You chuckled at the expression on his face, but your laughter died down when Rayne immediately brought his lips to meet yours in a gentle yet firm kiss, the contact sending a warm shiver down your spine.

Extra:

♡ You were playing with Rayne's pet rabbits in your shared room, wearing the comfortable rabbit hoodie that matched with your boyfriend but in your favorite color.

"There! All done!" You chirped and stroked Usao's fluffy fur, staring at all the rabbits decorated with ribbons in awe.

"[Name.]"

At the sound of his voice calling your name, you turned around to face him. Once you did, you're met with himself close to you, the sudden closeness making your eyes widen in surprise and confusion. "Is something the matter?"

(It was hard reading him this time, not even a single clue was visible! Is he doing this on purpose?)

Said boyfriend shook his head before gently taking your hand in his, caressing it tenderly.

He closed his eyes and brought your hand up to his lips for him to place a soft and long kiss.

The kiss lasted for a while and it took you some time to process what just happened. When you did, you found yourself stunned and flustered.

—

Abyss Razor

♡ Believe when I say THAT THIS MAN GETS ALL FLUSTERED WITH EVERYTHING YOU DO. (You were just too much for his heart to handle, he might explode in embarrassment.)

♡ Even the simplest, smallest things you do, like getting close to him, holding his hand, or even a gentle poke on the cheek, headpats, or your compliments, cause him to freeze in embarrassment or leave him trembling and a stuttering mess. (Even your smile and voice!)

♡ The last time this happened was when you were combing his hair and you stopped when you caught a whiff of the scent of his hair.

You drew closer to him, hoping to smell that pleasant fragrance again.

"Say, Abyss, what shampoo do you use?"

♡ He responded with silence, you were just too close to him! Close enough that his brain stopped functioning!

♡ Abyss.exe has stopped working.

♡ You are welcome to shower this lover of yours with affection, but please have mercy! He has zero experience when it comes to this! (Your affections for him might be the cause of his death /j)

♡ He is so adorable, please don't ever hurt him. Cherish him with all your heart, for goodness' sake! He deserves all the love and care.<33

Extra:

Your fingers brushed the silky strands of your lover's hair, tucking it behind his ear before clipping it with a ribbon. (I live for the coquettish display<33)

Once you were done, you gasped at the sight of your lover with his hair neatly down and a ribbon clipped in place.

"My goodness! You look beautiful, my love, as always!"

"Even with my cursed evil eye?"

"Nonsense! I find your evil eye unique and beautiful! Even with or without that, you will always be a beauty in my eyes, both on the outside and the inside!"

Just as he was about to respond, you gently placed your finger on his lips and embraced him, burying your face in his stomach.

"Hush! Don't even think of saying those words. Your cursed evil eye has nothing to do with who you are! You have done nothing wrong! If no one else will accept the whole of you aside from Abel, then I WILL. I do not care what that evil eye of yours will do to me, I am willing to embrace everything in you. I will always love you, even with all your flaws. Nothing and no one can change my mind and my heart—"

You stopped yourself from rambling when you felt a sudden drop of liquid fall on top of your head.

"Abyss?"

You sat up to check on him, only for panic to rush through you as your eyes met his face that is soaked with tears.

"Did I say something wrong? Please, don't cry and tell me what's wrong! It pains me to see you in tears!" (You might cry too /j)

Receiving no response from him, you were left with no choice but to embrace him in a hug, hoping that it could provide him solace.

Abyss wrapped his arms around you in return, his tears soaking the fabric on your shoulder. (Which you did not mind at all.)

He could never be more grateful than being accepted despite the flaws he bore, especially his very own evil eye.

—

I'll add a few more characters for this headcanon after writing the second angst I'm planning to write! I hope you enjoyed reading my first headcanon! Have a great, wonderful day or night, lovelies!💌