#story preview

[madamechrissy]

=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Medical procedures, surgery descriptions, crazy sexual tension, eventually explicit sex etc. ER setting. Reader 26, Dr. Gojo 34, small age gap, work sex, complications, lots of humor, eventual drama and angst. Grey's vibes ✨️

=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!

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=͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist =͟͟͞♡

♡ Part One ♡

Fuck, you’re exhausted, the first month of your internship as a surgeon was brutal, you haven’t had but a couple hours of sleep here and there, mostly on some of the hospital beds. Your bones ache, your skincare routine is barely hanging by a thread, and your hair is a wreck in a messy bun today. You thought med school was difficult, but it was nothing like this.

“Hey, you okay babe?” Your best friend Maki Zenin asks softly, you look at her and smile, nodding, she purses her lips, tilting her glasses.  “No you’re not.”

“I’m wiped, Maki. This patient injected cocaine up his ass.” She bursts out laughing right in the middle of the hospital floor, you cover her mouth quickly, looking around. “Shh!”

“Shit, forreal? I thought my case was bad, he’s been here eight times for hits of pain meds since I have been here, he keeps bashing his hand on shit.” She sighs, handing her files to the desk then picking up several more.

You’re both in your pale blue scrubs, Maki’s pretty green hair is high up in a ponytail, now your other two best friends from your internship come up, Inumaki Toge and Yuta Okkotsu, both looking exhausted along with you. Yuta’s eye bags rival yours by far, he slicks back his dark hair as you all check the time on your watches.

“Another sixteen hours almost down.” He says through a yawn.

“Tired.” Inumaki says, and you sigh, nodding in agreement.

“Fuck that, we need to throw a party.” Maki says, somehow still so energetic, and you’re so confused how it’s possible.

“Party?” Inumaki asks, he’s certainly a man of few words, but his violet eyes explain whatever anyone needs to know.

“No way, Maki. Fuck that.” Yuta says, earning Maki sticking her tongue out at him.

“Buzz kill, ugh. Listen, this weekend, we’ll invite some of the people from our class, we can invite some of the other interns too. Ooh, maybe even those sexy resident doctors.” She wiggles her brows with a mischievous little grin.

“Maki, we're too old for that shit now.”  You grumble.

“Bitch we’re twenty six? How are we old.”

“I feel ancient.” Yuta agrees. “Coffee everyone?”

“I have to stop by Doctor Gojo’s real quick, meet you all there?” You say, and they nod, waving you off as you head to your Resident doctor’s office. Dr. Gojo was the boss of you four, one of the residents along with Dr. Nanami and Dr. Geto. All three were fawned over by all the interns, except you. 

Yes they were gorgeous, and yes Dr. Gojo was positively beautiful, with his snowy white hair, his glittery blue eyes, his big grin. But you were just too exhausted and too beat to really fawn over someone, especially someone you really could not be with, seeing as he is your resident, you’re just a little intern. Satoru also happens to be the top surgeon in the hospital.

You go to knock but see his door is cracked open, you carefully take the knob in your hand, twisting it and peeking your head in, seeing Satoru Gojo’s head fall back, as he’s gasping. You look curiously, but his hands are up on the desk, as he’s biting his lower lip, his brows together, eyes shut. You clear your throat and he jerks then, clearing his throat.

“Um… hey intern.” He says, his voice clipped. You shut the door behind you, tilting your head curiously at him, his face reddening slightly.

“Dr. Gojo, I have a question about this patient, is everything okay? It won’t take very long.” You say, and his eyes flicker over your face, an expression you can’t explain, as he sucks in a breath.

“I um… can listen… in… fuck, fuck!” He moans then, he clearly moans, and you hear a bump on his desk now. “Oh, oh that’s so much better.”

“I… what the fuck!?” He flushes then, sliding back, and one of the nurses jumps up, giggling now and wiping her mouth, she has pretty blue hair.

“Thank you Miwa, you’re a gem.” He stands, patting her head with a smile, and she giggles again, as you watch in confusion, your brows together, mouth open. “I need to talk to her about cool doctor things, I’ll see you around later?”

Cool Doctor things.

Blow jobs on the clock?

How is this your boss?

“Yes, Dr. Gojo. Hi there!” She waves at you, as if nothing has happened, as if she wasn’t just sucking Dr. Gojo off, and he’s looking bashful!?

“What the hell is this shit? Lock a door?” He comes to you, locking the big door with a click behind you. “Not now!”

“I forgot it was open, shit. I’m sorry. Stress relief, you know.” He smiles down at you, a stupid smirk you’d like to smack off his pretty face, hands in the pockets of his long white doctor jacket. “Don’t you ever need any?”

You heat up at his husky tone, as you realize just what you’d walked into. It had been a long time since you’d even thought that way, not just with Med school but now being an intern, especially since you broke up with your ex months back. “What? Yuck don’t come near me.”

“Why, ya jealous.” He brushes your hair back, earning your glare. “You’re awfully cute when you are.”

“Jealous of you? No thanks, I'm good. I sure am not part of your fan club.”

Satoru pouts. “Yeah, and you’re the only one.”

“Yep. Anyway, I’m now disturbed.” You shiver with feigned disgust, making him snort a bit in laughter. “But I only came in here to go over Mr. Lewis.” Sighing, you hand him the file with a gentle brush of your fingers against his palm. “He's been a difficult case.”

“Fuck, the cocaine dude? Ah shit, it’s that bad?”

“We have him stable, but something about it threw me off, how could it be that severe of an effect? Colitis has lasted days now and no improvement.”

“Mmm, true. But it makes sense, you can’t just inject cocaine into the anus and… have a party.” A hint of laughter escapes from his lips before he can control it, earning a stern look from you, making him study the file more carefully.

“Be serious.”

“I’m your boss, you know!”

“Yeah, somehow. Anyway, I feel there is something underlying. Perhaps exasperated by the cocaine.”

“Up the ass! Hah!” He’s smacking his long leg now, chuckling, earning your glare. “Oof you’re so serious, sorry, carry on.” He gives you a mock salute, and your eyes are so far back in your head they might stay that way.

“So I’m wondering if he has something else, untreated, the man has no history of any doctor visits since he was living with his parents.”

He taps his chin then. “Hmm, good point. It’s possible. Have we checked him for Chron’s?”

“Shit, maybe, that would make so much sense too, his white blood cell count is through the roof. I’ll leave a note to run some tests before I go.” You take the folder back then, your fingers brushing, and it brings a blush to your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, intern?”

“Just weirded out by you, Dr. Hojo.” He snorts then.

“Dr. Hojo!?”

“It’s what they call you, I guess it’s true.” You say, raising a brow, and he is leaning close, too close. You can smell that stupidly expensive cologne he wears every day, filling your senses far too much. You try to avoid those eyes, even though you look at them all the time, they still are…

Too much.

“And you don’t ever wanna just get eaten out?” You blush more now, looking down as he stands up tall, so fucking tall over you. “Don’t be shy now, we spend more time together than alone.”

“I don’t do that when not in relationships.” He pauses, and you expect some joke, since he takes nothing serious but surgery it seems. But he tilts your chin up, and studies you with those eyes, lids lowering ever so slightly.

“Aw, so you’re a good girl.” He says teasingly, causing a warm sensation to spread through your stomach at his words. You shake your head and try to ignore the fluttering feeling within you.

“Don’t say that!”

“Turn you on?”

“No! Jesus. I don’t care what people do with their bodies, I don’t care if you’re a whole manwhore-”

“Excuse me!”

“But I just need a relationship, I’m not attracted to just looks, there has to be a deeper connection.” He studies you carefully now, so serious unlike his usual goofy demeanor.

“Hmm, a challenge.”

“What now?” You glare up at him, clutching the folders to your chest tightly. “Not a challenge, you psycho. Go get all the blowjobs you want, like Thanos collecting all those infinity stones.”

He grins, sharp little fangs glinting, and you don’t like the effects it’s having on your body, or your mind. You can barely take a breath. “You’re actually so funny, holy shit.”

“You don’t really know me. Aside from work.”

“You never take me up on any of those offers of coffee, or grabbing a bite, all you do is work Missy. All work, no play, makes a sad girl.” He taps your nose, and it scrunches up, making him smile a bit. “Cute.”

“Whatever, I have to work my ass off, it’s important, I have to make sure I get to scrub in with you. That chance comes at the end of this month.”

“Well you’re the top intern I have, so don’t worry so much.” He pats your shoulder, and you blink a bit. “Surprised? How. You graduated top of the school, you bust your cute little butt, and you’re intelligent, caring for your patients. Of course I was picking you first.”

“Oh my god…”

“You’ve ruined your own surprise. Act surprised when you find out, mmkay?” You hug him then, heart racing as you think of it. “Oh so now you like me.”

“I can really scrub in to a surgery with you!?” You couldn't contain your excitement as you leaned back and looked up at Satoru Gojo. He nodded, his hands taking hold of your waist through your scrubs, and that touch?

Does things, fuck.

“I’m so sorry-”

“You’re fine, intern. Stay a little longer.” You nervously step back, his hands are still on your waist, making you tremble, as your eyes both lock.

“I can never fuck such an opportunity up. Um… thank you though, that gives me so much hope, maybe I can actually relax for two minutes!” He smiles softly, nodding, his hands falling to his sides. “I’m sorry I…”

“Interrupted? Nah. Think you made me cum quick.”

“What!?” You glare again, and his smirk makes you itch to smack him all over again. “Dr. Gojo!”

“You’re so pretty though, I think it made her job quicker. Win win.”

“I’m out of here. Ugh.” You turn away, hand on the knob, and then his comes on top of it and gently unlocks it with a twist, you feel his hard body against your back, and you get overwhelmed in his office, damn near unable to breathe, as he’s clearly…

Is Dr. Gojo inhaling your hair!?

“New shampoo?” He asks, you turn to glare up at him, putting your faces far, far too close.

“How would you know my…”

“You always wear that one that smells like strawberries, this one is more floral. Hmm I don’t know if I like it as much, but it’s still yummy.”

“I… you…”

“See you later, intern.” He says softly, then finally steps away, leaving you reeling as you hastily step out without a word, leaning your back against his door, shutting your eyes for a moment in the quiet hall his office is in. You shake yourself out of it quickly, he’s just being…

Dr. Hojo.

Notorious womanizer, but the best damn surgeon there was, a whole idiot and yet an entire genius. And not your type, not at all, even if he’s gorgeous, you did not like man whores, or men that aren’t serious, especially not your boss, anyway. Fucking your boss in this industry would essentially make everyone question every accomplishment as favoriteism.

You sure weren’t going to sacrifice all your hard work for some dick.

You bounce away, heading to the little cafe where your friends are waiting, sitting next to Yuta who hands you a coffee with a little smile. “Thank you, ugh.”

“You’re welcome, girlie.”

“So, party?”

“Maki!” You three say, and she sighs, shooting her espresso down.

“Next weekend! Come on you guys, what do you say?”

“Oh fine.” You concede. Maki, Yuta and Toge all live with you, in your town home, since you could absolutely not afford it yourself, with the shitty pay of your internship and the college bills. It was left to you, but you still had property taxes and other bills, so they helped a ton. “No one better fuck my house up, I swear.”

“Hell yeah, here’s to a party bitches.” She holds up her little styrofoam cup, and you all cheers each other then, laughing.

“Party, hmm?” Comes Dr. Gojo’s voice, he’s standing there with Dr. Geto and Dr. Nanami. You all get nervous then, but he grins. “I’m coming. What about you guys?”

“No way.” Nanami grumbles, he’s very serious, his glasses slung over his sandy blond hair, his face exhausted.

“I’ll come.” Dr. Geto chimes in, chuckling and sipping his coffee, he’s as tall as Dr. Gojo and well swoon worthy. He would be more your type you think, with that serious yet fun nature, whereas Dr. Gojo…

“C’mon Nanami. You gotta, you gotta, you-”

“Jesus you’re a child.” You say, and Gojo gasps at you, Geto and even Nanami laugh, only earning Gojo’s scowl.

“You brat, I’m a good eight years older than you!”

“You look like a twenty year old frat boy.”

"And you look like an angry little brat!” He shot back, only causing more laughter to erupt from the group.

“Okay, okay.” Dr. Geto holds up his hands now. “Let’s be nice, kids.”

“Kids! Suguru I’m older than you.” Gojo says with a glare.

“Like six months. Anyway, we’ll be there at this party, text us the details? We’d love to unwind.” Dr. Geto says, and Maki jumps up now, as you and Gojo are glaring at each other across your table. “Got it, thank you Maki.”

“Of course, we’ll invite both of your interns too. It’ll be much needed after hell month.” You just sit there, as they all talk, and Gojo is all pouty, like a baby. You peek at your phone now, seeing a text from your shitty ex, your face falls.

“Everything okay?” Maki asks softly, and you sigh, nodding.

“Just the ex.” You whisper back.

“Ex huh?” Satoru has somehow gotten behind you, leaning over, you smack at his hand then, glaring. “What, I wanna know!”

“You’re too fucking much sometimes. Ugh.” You stand up then, slinking past him. “I’m headed to get changed and then I’m leaving. See you all at home?” They all nod, eyeing you and Satoru curiously, you wave at the Doctors then head out.

Ugh, along with Satoru just being… weird and annoying, and your ex? He was a toxic, needy mess. He’d left you because you didn’t have enough time for him, and maybe you really didn’t, how could you have a relationship until your internship was finished? The first week none of you even left the hospital, sleeping in bunk beds and showering there.

But he constantly needed you, made you feel guilty, would fuck with your alarms and everything. Thank God he was long gone, even if he was annoying you currently, you delete his messages, heading to the locker room and hearing steps. You look back curiously to see Satoru holding the door open for you.

“What are you doing?”

“I am sorry, that was rude of me.”

“Yeah, well, what’s new.” You both walk into the locker room now, Satoru’s shrugging off his white lab coat, your cheeks heat up while you slip off your scrub top, it was normal to change in front of everyone, you all had co op locker rooms and showers even, all of you took years of anatomy, the human body was nothing really but parts.

But as you feel his eyes on you, when you’re down to just a black lace bra and a pair of boy shorts, you tense a bit, looking at him, shirtless, his lips parted as he looks at you. “I am sorry I know I annoy you, Miss perfect.”

“I’m no Miss perfect. I guess I have a lot to prove.” You say softly, trying not to drink in his rippling muscles, perfect well defined torso, cuts low where he’s now sliding up a pair of dark blue jeans.

His blue eyes fixate on you as he does, as you’re sliding on a pair of jeans yourself, buttoning them with trembling hands. “I had a lot to prove once too. I do understand.”

“You’re being serious?” You tease, earning a little smile, as he slides a black long sleeve shirt over his head. You get flustered as you realize your nipples are pressed against the cups of your bra, sliding your shirt and then a jacket on yourself, sitting at the bench to slide on your black boots.

“I can be serious sometimes, I just think there’s enough death, sadness, and depression in this career. Why not just try to have some fun? Otherwise, it’ll just consume you.” He says softly, in that husky voice of his, so sexy it alone could wreck someone. But his words…

“That makes sense.” You say softly now, standing as he does, grabbing your purse and locking up your locker, spinning the combination, at the same time he grabs his keys and wallet. “So you try to… brighten up things.”

“Yeah, someone has to.” He walks to you then, tapping your nose once more. “You’re too serious, you’ll have to lighten up, or this career will wreck you.”

You nod then, carefully, realizing perhaps this slutty, silly doctor had a lot more to him, than just being the perfect surgeon. “I’ll take that advice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, also…” He leans forward as you all are stepping out of the locker room, headed toward the automatic glass doors, and you look at him curiously. “Nice panties.”

“Oh fuck you, Dr. Hojo!” You glare now, shoving at him, as he heads to his mercedes benz, and you’re in your ancient SUV that sounds like a beast.

“Night-night, intern.” He shoots you two fingers, sliding into his fancy car with blacked out windows. You roll your eyes, putting your car in gear.

What a day.

Part Two

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

THE WAY I DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE INTO ACOTAR UNTIL I SAW YOUR NEWEST OC THING??!!!

SILVER!!!! MY MOST FAVORITEST SHNOOKUMS LOVE!!! I NEEEEEEEED YOU TO GIVE US A TIDBIT OF WHATEVER YOUR PLANNING WITH MY NEW BABY ASTERA AND THAT POLY!BATBOYS TAG THAT YOU KEEP HIDING

- 🦋

A/N— Is it reeaaaaaaaalllyyyyyyy hiding it if it's not in the first three recommended tags 🫣🫣🫣 I hope this preview butters someone's toast

Mini Preview — Frostbite

Azriel stood, extending his hand out to me. For a moment, I debated taking it. . . But it was late. Much later than I usually went inside. . . And on this night, and every one before it for the last fifty years, there was nothing.

I grasped his hand and stood. He guided me inside — the warmth of the town house hitting like a ton of bricks. The hearth burned hot in the living room, forcing me to shuck the warm outer layers and drape them over the back of the couch on my way to the stairs.

My hand dragged through Cassian's black, shoulder length hair in passing; he never once woke up. He was sprawled out on the opposite end of the couch, his massive membranous wings cocooned around him like a blanket — his mouth was hung open, snores rumbling through his chest and throat as he slept peacefully.

I decided I liked it best when he could rest uninterrupted.

Azriel disappeared to the room he claimed before I could say goodnight or retreat to my room at the top of the stairs.

When I finally retreated, my warm bed greeted me with soft ivory and cream. The bed set been the first thing I'd ever selected myself. . . When my father was alive and the High Lord of the Winter Court, everything was in his image entirely.

And when something, feeling akin to a tug mixed with the vibrations of a symphony drew me to the Night Court, I went with my mother to visit the Illyrian camps and chose to stay even when she left.

Do not steal this. It may be fanfiction, but it took me three hours to properly phrase this part when writing for the actual chapter. Reblogs/Notes are good and encouraged, as well as feedback, however I will not tolerate anyone taking any portion of my hard work and claiming it as their own. 💙

[cupcakemolotov]

Ex's and Oh's

I have finally finished a thing, but honestly, with the 2023 has shaped up, this is a triumph! Happy Holidays, all.

Summary: Caroline's return to New Orleans is a little less triumphant than she'd like. There is a dead body in her trunk and a magical artifact in her passenger seat, and no matter how much she'd like too, the chances of avoiding her ex-husband are astronomically small. What, with the mate bond and all, but a girl's gotta hope.

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known; Minor Character Death; Magical Realism; We Make War Not Love; Post-Divorce; These Two Fools in Love; Klaus and Caroline Being Territorial; for each other; tyler is dead; kind of; Canon-Typical Violence; Violence; Murder

-

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“I know.”

Bonnie rubbed a hand down her face after she handed Caroline a cup of coffee, her expression exasperated. “Do you?”

Caroline bit down on a tired smile. “Bonnie.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she huffed, her eyes narrowing. “Enzo and I won’t be able to hide this. You know he has my place watched. He knows we talk. He knows I used to visit you, on occasion. He let it slide, because to do anything else would just piss you off more.” She sat and sighed. “This he will not let slide.”

Caroline shrugged, reaching carefully for the cream. Her ribs tugged uncomfortably at the motion, and she was careful to hide it. She needed caffeine too badly to let her friend be distracted. It’d just been her and multiple five hour energies over the past twenty hours, and there were things that needed to be said. “He’ll get over it.”

A choked noise escaped from her oldest friend, her expression pinched. It was still early in New Orleans, dawn not having quite creeped over the edge of the horizon. Her walk from her parked car had been quiet, the city slow and sleepy in the early morning hours, only the most adventurous of tourists staggering home. Bonnie had clearly rolled out of bed when Caroline had woken her, her clothing rumbled and mismatched. She’d have felt bad about just showing up after so long, if the circumstances hadn’t been an emergency.

“Caroline, Klaus does not ‘get over things,’ particularly when they involve you.”

“It's been just over ten years since the divorce, Bon.” Three years, fifty-one days since she had last talked to him. Since she had been in the same state as him. If she thought about it too long, her chest would start to ache with the weight of it. She had just never been able to decide if it was grief or rage that she carried like a cloak.

“Oh, I’m aware,” she said flatly. “The entire bayou is aware, Caroline.”

A pause, as Caroline scrunched her nose. “I didn’t think the divorce would still be hot gossip. A decade is more than long enough for people to stop wagging their tongues.”

Bonnie let out a groan. “If you think the kind of gossip your divorce from Klaus Mikaelson inspired is going to die down this century, you’ve forgotten how insular this place can be.”

“Kol lives here.” Caroline shrugged, winced. “He has a new antic every week. They can’t be bored of things to talk about.”

A peculiar look crossed Bonnie’s face. “Would you like to know what the last bit of nonsense Kol got into?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “He threw a block party.”

Caroline blinked. “That’s… not unusual for Kol. I can think of at least three block parties he threw in the last year that I lived here.”

Bonnie made a noise. “I don’t think you're really appreciating the scale of this party. It spilled across six streets. He brought in margarita trucks. Two live bands. Cops were called, SWAT intervened after the second fireball, dozens of wolves ended up in jail overnight, and it took a week for Elijah to untangle the legal shenanigans.” She arched her brow. “A week. Even the post-Esther shindig didn’t explode through the city quite that way.”

And neither of them had mentioned a word of this to her. She wondered if Enzo had a video. “Where was Klaus?”

“Business trip.” Bonnie said succinctly. “He showed up an hour after the SWAT team had been brought in to deal with the drunk witches. Do you know what Kol was celebrating?”

Caroline shook her head.

“Your divorce.”

The noise that caught in Caroline’s throat was strangled, torn somewhere between a laugh and a shriek. Bonnie’s expression darkened into that of a martyr before a judge.

“There was a banner, Caroline. Kol hung it across the front of the mansion, right above the entrance, and he had someone set up two spotlights to make sure it was visible. I have no idea who made the banner, but it had to be someone out of state, because supposedly no one died. Would you like to guess what it said?”

Caroline opened and closed her mouth, but couldn’t quite find the words. What exactly would Kol have put up to celebrate her divorce?

“No?” Bonnie crossed her arms. “Too bad. It read, “Congratulations to Caroline Forbes, Ten Years and Counting.”

It was a physical strain, not to laugh at Bonnie’s unimpressed look. Her ex-husband had enough pride to keep the Titanic afloat, having their disaster of a marriage waved in his face had to have made him apocalyptic with anger.

Bonnie nodded at her expression. “Elijah had to smuggle Kol to Eastern Europe. He’s still there.”

Struggling with her composure, when she finally spoke, Caroline managed to mostly sound normal. “Kol can occasionally be likable, can’t he?”

“You would find it hilarious.” Bonnie made a face. “Enzo certainly did. But it’s made my life unnecessarily complicated. Rebekah is refusing to talk to Klaus until he brings Kol back, and Klaus threw her last messenger through the front doors. Werewolves can apparently bounce. “

Caroline looked everywhere but Bonnie’s face. She would not appreciate the laughter Caroline was struggling to hide.

“The pack has started referring to the party as The Event, and every time someone is dumb enough to mention it in Klaus’ hearing, he gets that particular look on his face.” Bonnie waved her hand. “You know the look: he’s clearly weighing just how useful you are and if dead would be the better state of your existence.”

Caroline cleared her throat, trying to look contrite. It was difficult, when all she wanted to do was lean forward and ask for more details. Ask just how much Klaus was suffering, if the wound of her leaving matched the one he’d left in her. “That sounds terrible.”

AO3: Link Here

Please remember that my A03 account is unfortunately locked due to AI scrapping. You will need to be logged into an account to see all of my stories.

[triptychgrip]

Story Preview: Yuuri vs. Yurio on Hot Ones Versus

“And that’s already ten extra dollars in my pocket!” Mila gleefully called out, referring to the bet that she, Georgi, Sara, and Otabek were all in on.

“Why are you even here again?” Yura dryly lobbed back. “Katsudon gets his lovesick husband plus Kenjirou to fan him, mop his sweaty brow, and generally fuss over his well-being, while you’re just…what? Here to heckle and wish for my downfall?”

As Yuuri suspected he would, Viktor took this opening to gasp, theatrically, throwing a hand to his forehead like a storybook maiden that had just heard an earnestly breathless confession of love.

“Yura, I never knew you wished for me to fuss over you!” he cried, swaying a bit on his feet as if dizzied by the prospect. “And all this time, I believed you repulsed by my protective inclinations!”

The subsequent profanity-laden sentence from Yura would most definitely have to be bleeped out in the final cut, and Yuuri took a second to quiet his laughter before reaching for the first card in his pile.

“Ok, Yura…for round 1.”

He read it silently to himself, fighting the urge to giggle; it was actually a good thing Mila was here, because she’d be able to join him in calling Yura out if he tried to lie while answering.

“Before you left Russia to begin training here in Japan – a move that was catalyzed by your missing Viktor and I so very dearly once we’d left –” (Yuuri paused and grinned when Kenjirou whooped, delightedly) “– you were known as a little bit of a bully at Yubileyny, in particular towards the local hockey teams that occasionally rented out the ice. Describe the meanest thing you ever did to haze a fellow rinkmate or hockey player.”

A vivid memory of Yakov screaming his head off over a rather unfortunate hair dye incident floated to the forefront of Yuuri’s mind and he took a second to bask in the recollection.

“Or…feel free to eat a death wing," he finished, firmly.

After seeing my Vanity Fair Lie Detector game fic do so well, I've decided to continue my post-canon media appearance antics by writing another face-off, this time taking place betwwen Yuuri and Yurio as they battle each other/"the wings of death" while taping an episode of Hot Ones Versus.

If you enjoy the idea of their friendly rivalry, highly sappy/extra Viktuuri moments, and questions/answers that illuminate how our favorite character dynamics might have evolved a few years post-canon, I invite you to be on the lookout for this story, which I hope to upload to ao3 sometime in November (probably after I update my Olympics-focused WIP/series).

I haven't yet decided if I want this to be a very long one-shot or a 2-chapter fic, but in any event, folks who've read my other work probably know that shortfic is really hard for me…I really struggle to keep things brief and with something like this, I can't imagine it being anything less than 5-8K words in length. Especially because I want to include Viktor, Yuuri and Yuri’s POVs.

Lol…hope you’ll cheer me on and in the meantime, I’ve written lots of other (mostly post-canon) Yuri!!! on Ice fic you may want to check out.

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Why The Caged Bird Sings | Preview

One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blonde and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. -------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Divider by firefly-graphics

UPDATE: Full chapter posted!

One might assume that growing up surrounded by wealth and luxury makes someone the luckiest person alive. Having seen the struggles and sacrifices of the poor in society, you could confirm that this assumption was not entirely false. Since Gold Roger's announcement about the One Piece, a legendary treasure that no one had found for 22 years, piracy had become rampant. You lived in an era where gold and status held more importance than anything else, even family itself.

You witnessed an increase in deceptions and subterfuge, whether it was on the open sea or within your own household. Your father was a successful entrepreneur with a modest number of valuable connections, both in the private sector and among Marine colonels and various associates. It was extremely important for you to follow his protocol and ensure that everything was accomplished in a way that upheld your family's reputation.

Unfortunately, this also meant agreeing to a forced engagement with one of the admirals' son, regardless of what your heart desired.

It could have been so simple, really. A firm and confident "no" was to be expected from you, as you never wanted to marry for benefits, but only for love. And yet, throughout your entire life, you struggled to find the courage to go against what everyone wanted you to do. As a natural people-pleaser who didn't like disappointing those around, you grew up surrounded by cruelty, opportunism, and a severe lack of affection.

You were trained to be nice and condescending, having to wear a fake smile at all times, and when necessary, even put your cleavage on display with the nicest dresses in your wardrobe. Or, to describe it more accurately, your mother's wardrobe.

Your parents barred you from selecting the garments that you would be most comfortable in. You harbored a preference for a more casual look, which consisted of shirts and fitting pants, leather jackets, and boots. Nevertheless, in accordance with their view, such clothes did not suit a lady of your importance. Consequently, you had to store your own funds separately, and keep the non-compliant outfits inside a concealed wooden box.

Occasionally, you were able to experience a sliver of freedom with your best and only friends from your hometown, conjuring up plausible alibi while avoiding arousing any suspicions. They were the only ones who addressed you with kind and considerate words, openly expressing their views that opposed your constant acceptance without putting up a fight.

You knew they were perfectly correct in their statements, yet you were unable to ascertain the missing drive and find that spark within you; the strength you had tried to put into good use whenever your parents confined you to your room for several days, with the bare minimum food intake as a method of teaching you a lesson concerning the specific expectations that they wanted from the good and well-mannered girl whom they attempted to nurture.

You had no voice left in your throat to scream, alongside possessing a minimal amount of stamina to retaliate and advocate for yourself amid the continued degradation that you had to face on a consistent basis.

You thoroughly despised your cowardice. You dreamed of an existence where you could stand up for yourself, fighting for what you wanted with full determination and fervor. And yet, that day still felt so far away, as you were constrained to attend one business dinner after another, whether with your parents present or by yourself.

They wanted a doll, so you acted like one.

You didn't know yet, but everything was about to change significantly and unexpectedly on that fateful night.

There was a particular location known as the Baratie Restaurant Ship that served the most high-class and succulent dishes in the entirety of the East Blue. Your parents expressed considerable enthusiasm towards dining at this establishment and subsequently extended an invitation to your father's closest admiral associate, along with your presumed fiancé. As a result, you were summoned to attend the gathering without any possibility of evasion.

Your friends advised you to feign illness and make a covert escape from your home as soon as the ship set sail, but you were exceedingly familiar with your parents' modus operandi better than anyone else. You discerned that they would have surely transported you with them even if you were physically disabled, so you chose your mother's favorite dress for the occasion, applied your makeup, and selected the kind of uncomfortable shoes that you disliked wearing while standing due to their tight fit and high heels.

As soon as you arrived at the docks, the aroma of cooked meat, grilled fish, and baked potatoes filled the air. Upon entering the restaurant, a soothing melody immediately greeted your ears. While your parents spoke with the fishman at the entrance about their reservation, you took in the upscale setting. Admiring the ambiance, you appreciated the cozy atmosphere with dim lights lending a romantic vibe that made it the perfect spot for a genuine couple.

Christopher, your supposed fiancé, touched your back in an unpleasant manner as he analyzed every patron in the establishment with a visible expression of disdain.

"I'm sure some of these people are filthy pirates," he sneered. "I hope the food is as good as they say.”

With a forced smile on your face, you nonchalantly stepped away from his hold. "You can't exactly choose the customers, Chris," you said pointedly, hoping to discourage any further negativity.

The man seemed unfazed by your rejection and proceeded to walk down the stairs. Your parents followed suit, escorted to your designated location for the evening with the admiral following in tow. His usual grin was plastered on his face, and he strode past you as you stood frozen, not saying a word.

You took deep breaths in an attempt to calm your frazzled emotions, but your heart continued to hammer in your chest with a loud, pounding rhythm.

"Come on, Y/N, you can do it. Just a couple of hours, you'll survive this," you whispered to yourself, trying to muster up some courage and push through the discomfort.

You swallowed the lump that had surfaced in your throat and then joined the group near the center area of the restaurant, waiting for the others to take their seat on the long couch made of high quality leather.

Despite Sanji's best efforts, Zeff once again belittled and ignored one of his delicious meals, causing him to be relegated to the lowly role of a waiter. As he hurriedly wiped down a table, clearing it of the empty plates and keeping the growing pile on his left hand, Sanji's gaze casually shifted to the group of people that had just arrived at the Baratie. He abruptly turned around for a moment when he caught a glimpse of you, utterly entranced by your beauty and the elegant movement of tucking a hair strand behind your ear as you took in your surroundings.

Sanji found himself staring at you longer than he intended to, his lips curving into a wide smile the moment you settled onto the couch and subtly adjusted the fabric of your dress to conceal your thighs. Amidst the vibrant conversation that occupied the others, you remained quiet and reserved, lightly tugging at the corner of your lips as you tried to blend in.

Even though they all engaged in lively chatter, you showed no special interest in the topic of discussion, drifting away and briefly meeting Sanji's eyes in a quick glance of contact.

To Sanji's displeasure, the man sitting near you attempted to capture your attention by holding the menu in front of you. You redirected your focus to carefully inspect the list, and Sanji was left standing there, one hand tucked in his pocket, watching as your lips pressed together in concentration.

Amongst the multitude of female patrons present that night, you stood out as the most mesmerizing for reasons that he struggled to put into words. Sanji hastily gathered the remaining clutter, taking it to the kitchen before fixing his jacket and tidying up his hair to make it look as neat as possible.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back into the dining hall, walking towards your table with long and confident strides.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

and if it's better to bet on us, then I'll double down and if we end up in bed and I put the covers out and if I'm wrong, I'll just bury my head deep underground I gotta know now playing – ‘yes or no’ by jung kook

It’s impossible to fall in love when you’re already in love.

-

title: peppermint gum savor... | and burst forth

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

word count: 25k

--

{wiyllt's words} I swear this was supposed to be "normal length" (for me, anyway) but something crazy happened and I don't understand how I never learn that Jeon Jungkook does this to me every fucking time, for fuck's sake, grr, you cute bunbun; inspired by 'peppermint gum' by frederic and ofc various references to 'Golden' ;)

[rosejigglypuff76]

Cookie Run Kimura AU - Chapter 7 (Preview)

Author's Note

My deepest apologies for being unable to write for a while. Due to me being busy with a lot of writing for my 2nd Term of my 1st Year of College I ended up getting a bad case of Writer's Block, due to my mind becoming mentally exhausted from various homework and projects. 😅🎀

Luckily the 2nd Term of my 1st Year recently finished a few days ago, and I'll be returning to my 1st Year's 3rd Term this coming May 8. But in the meantime, I'll try my best to complete Chapter 7 for my Cookie Run Kimura AU!

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

Cookie Run Kimura AU 🪴 Episode 7 (Preview) - Full Experimental Alchemist 🧪

Grandmaster Hotel, Sparkling's Juice Bar Wednesday, 5:41pm  in the Afternoon

"Hehe!! I supposed that was one dance within the starlights!", Herb politely chuckled while watching the reel that Sparkling posted on his Instagraham Page (Cookie Instagram Page) that ended up getting a lot of views within the first few hours alone.

As promised, Vampire sent the video he recorded on his phone to Sparkling. With the blonde teen himself both posting it and also adding the red-haired teen as a collaborator of the aforementioned reel.

"Wow! And it's crazy that you and Rockstar chose to stop the crowd from betting on either of you!", Cherry Blossom pouted in disappointment, "You won that match yet…"

Sparkling served the usual drinks to the rest of his friends, ending with serving Cherry Blossom her usual Sakura Milkshake. He sighed before replying with, "Even if Rockstar won instead of me, we both had the same idea regardless of the outcome. That being that there shouldn't be any bets, and that in the end we chose to dance for fun and sincere enjoyment."

"That's one reasonable and truly humble answer, Sparkling. It's cruel to see that there's not many cookies who have just as logical of a mindset as you, Herb, Cream Puff, and most of the cookies here...", Cocoa Butter (Dark Choco) calmly joined in the conversation as he drew on his calligraphy sketchbook.

The dark-haired teen gave an oblivious Cherry Blossom one silent side eye, drawing a quick sketch of one cute blue bear jelly plushie. The one that Herb won for him earlier in the arcade, which is also sitting right in front of him on the table.

Mango showed one big warmhearted smile, giggling at the amount of fun his friends are having. At the moment he was writing down the remaining few things on his notes from his phone, listing down everything the Student Council needs to do for the Science Fair.

"That looks like a lot of work that you wrote down.", Cream Puff spoke, taking a small little peek on Mango's list and overall sets of notes, "Working hard as ever, I see! Hehe!"

The young Student Council President himself nodded, double checking if there's anything that he needs to add or remove. Smiling kindly with complete satisfaction and happiness, "Everything is written down, and assigned the required things for each of us to do. Each is given a couple of tasks that's best suited for the five of us, both as individuals and as a team!"

One thing led to more chain reactions within the Blooming Friend Group. Most of them involve Herb and Sparkling offering their help to Mango and Cream Puff. A couple of times would have Cocoa Butter give some ideas as well, and Cherry Blossom followed along every so often.

Vampire would join in at times, recommending what the Student Council can do to promote the event in the Lotte World Tower and even make the event more widespread but reasonably limited to those in Cookie Biscuit City for a less stressful but amazing day.

That's when another idea sparked up in Mango's mind, "Hey Vampire? You're the Leader of the Science Club right?"

"Of course, Mango!", Vampire kindly replied, "If you need more help for the Science Fair, you can come to me or any of the members."

"I actually was about to ask!", the upbeat blonde cheered at the easy-going redhead, "WellyouseeweareveryopentobothofferinghelpandalsoreceivinghelpfromeveryonebothcookiesandcreaturesalikesoifyouarefinewithisitokayifyouandtheScienceClubhelpusoutwiththeScienceFairnextweek?"

"Let's just say everyone has that "Chibi Awe Face", that originated from those iconic Cookie Run Kingdom Korean Videos!", Herb thought to himself (and you) the moment Mango spoke that fast.

It took at least a few or so seconds until everyone was able to process what Mango just said. Ironically he's still easy to understand despite talking in one breath at times due to excitement.

"Mango? Is it okay if you talk a little slower please?", Cream Puff asked, blushing in embarrassment for her fellow Student Council member and silly-sweet love.

Mango blushed in embarrassment as well, chuckling with the same embarrassed look but was reassuring nonetheless, "Heh heh! Sorry about that Cream Puff. I guess it was hard for you guys to understand when I spoke that fast."

Vampire shook his head with reassurance, "Well actually, we understood what you said Mango. But we also don't want you to say it all in one breath, for your safety."

"Ah!", Mango showed a "Chibi Awe Face" of his own, kindly understanding the situation and in full agreement, "I'll try my best to keep that in mind. Thanks for telling me, heh heh!"

Everyone had a nice fun laugh, simply enjoying the times they have with each other and just in general having a great amount of fun times.

Needless to say, the red-haired boy eventually responded to the slightly younger of the two blonde teens in the room, "From what you mentioned Mango, that sounds like a great idea! I'll make sure that-!"

*beep boop*

Vampire briefly jumped out of his seat the moment he felt a sudden buzzing sound in his pocket. Calming down almost in an instant though, before proceeding to pull his phone out. Getting a recent notification of someone sending him a text message.

He sat there for a couple of seconds reading the text he was sent, before giving one deep but calmly chill sigh, "Sorry guys. But my little sister wants me to help her with something urgent at home."

*SWOOSH!!!*

It was ironically followed by Vampire putting down his payment for his drink at the counter, before immediately dashing out of the Juice Bar like his life depended on it.

This raised a bunch of eyebrows for the rest of the Blooming Friend Group. Both confused and worried of what urgent thing Alchemist texted Vampire moments prior to him bolting out of the Juice Bar. Of course, Sparkling and Herb are the most concerned. But Cream Puff was even more concerned and even scared for Vampire, "Is it just me… Or did Vampire look like he was hiding how afraid he's currently feeling about that text message Alchemist sent to him…?"

[zetsub0n0n4nsensu]

Otaku Despair Club Arc 0:

These Losers Can't Seriously Be My Party In The Fantasy Isekai!

After being transported to a land of magic and monsters, do these zeros have what it takes to make it to the first layer intact? Or will they be crushed by the weight of their collective indifference before the cycle even begins? Friends and foes, down the spiral they'll go! Mind the river and don't forget your map, episode 0 of 𝘐𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘊𝘺𝘤𝘭𝘦 is gonna be an adventure!

𖦹°.*𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘴*.°𖦹

♡ ◇ Read On Wattpad ☆ ✿

[theshinylizard]

Hi, for the I wish you would write a fic where... after a particularly difficult battle for the troops and Obi-Wan, Cody and the 212th/Ghost Co. have finally made their way to the rec room to just collapse on the ground, sit against the walls or in cuddlepiles, in exhaustion. Obi-Wan limps in, hesitates for a moment, then climbs into Cody's lap and curls up against his chest. NSFW "we're alive" comfort sex. Codywan & Obi/Clones. Thanks 😊

So this is gonna get a full fic write up. I absolutely love this. But… here’s a little preview. Oh. And full warning there will be some angst and definitely some hurt comfort. And emotions… and my specialty… smut. Sweet sweet tender sexy smut

(Be warned, this was typed up on my phone so there are a lot of errors. This is definitely not a final draft or anything near it. This is essentially story word vomit)

Hmm. The vode have all learned to depend on each other and after that rough battle they stand in the hangar and Waxer and Boil share a meaningful look before they turn to the rest and nod at the door. Waxer starts taking off his armor along the way and everyone else starts too. Cody watches with longing and Obi-Wan nods at him and Cody goes to join, giving Obiean a lingering look before disappearing. Obi-WAN’s heart is in his throat. He’s aching to feel something. He goes to his quarters and opens the door. He stares at the empty, near sterile room. He needs more than this tonight. He isn’t even aware of his feet moving before he’s at one of the rec rooms. Pieces of Armor are scattered along the hall.

Cody, who was against the back wall, his amber eyes piercing Obiean, is wearing his under armor and some of his leg armor, like he couldn’t be bothered to remove it all. There are others around him but there’s still space in his lap.

Obiwans heart clenches at the sight of him. His feet feel like they’re frozen on the spot.

This is obviously a private moment and he considers turning back to his lonely quarters. He would never dare intrude on the men.

Cody gives a single curt nod and it breaks the dam. Obiwans feet move of their own volition. He strides towards Cody, his body trembling. His hands shake as he pulls off his robe and boots, tossing them aside like all the other discarded clothes.

[valyalyon]

Preview of Chromatic Residue

might delete later.

SEA has ended the Harvest Whispers era, which means we get to meet...

Arthur Marlowe aka Apollo!

Click above for the updated character introductions to learn more info on the new man. Below is a smut preview of 1 Chromatic Residue which will be out this weekend <3

CW: explicit language and descriptions of sex. MDNI.

Her eyes ran along all the paintings, getting lost in the Red Highway painting. She could hear the motorcycles, but they were so far away now, it had been so long since she had lived that life.

// new location unlocked ?!?

“You’d call me tense?” Ember asked, tilting her head slightly as she stared at him, “you’re staring at my breasts after meeting me only three times. You want something else from me.”

“I want so much from you I could explode,” he admitted, and the lights were orange, his skin was dazzling, but he kept painting.

// okayyy uhmm....

“Good,” he chuckled and leaned in, kissing her again with his tongue as his thrusts intensified, pushing harder against her cervix, “the only thing I want is for you to stay. Do nothing but be my muse.”

// no because he really thinks he's a God and he kinda isssss i hate ittttt :(((

“Be mine,” he repeated, his big hands wrapped around her little throat, putting pressure on her, “I need you, Ember. We’re twin flames, I know it. Let me take care of you, and let me paint you.”

With his loosened grip, she moaned out, “yes, I’ll be yours.”

// 1 Chromatic Residue OUT SOON!! Check out Arthur's character profile, head over to the SEA Master List AND read the last chapter of Harvest Whispers!

[a-land-lacking-sleep]

Making two stories for In Pursuit of Victory was great, and I can't wait for you all to read a story about two friends coming into new roles, and how those roles impact those around them.

Thank you so much to @battle-facility-zine for letting me write two great stories!

[madamechrissy]

Fractured Desires ch 8 Preview

Pairing- yandere gojo x fem reader-explicit

It's coming back- est Oct 22nd- MDNI- so much yandere and breeding kink, Gojo fkn psycho 🤭❤️ -It's out - Chapter 8

Masterlist

“I’m gonna make you a mommy tonight. Need you to stop taking that fucking pill, promise me?”

You gasp, then let out a muffled cry as he slams his lips, and flips you on your back, pressing your legs over his shoulders, shoving his cock deeper. You scream out, no coherent answer, as he pumps into you, and it’s not gentle, it’s sure, long strokes, that jerk your entire body under him. He’s caressing your ankles, the sides of your feet as he folds you further.

“Tell me, tell me you will. Have my baby. Stay here, stay here at our fucking home. Say it.” His words are batshit crazy, and you should be afraid, but you’re melting for him, as he’s got you completely folded into the mattress, and you’re gushing wetness around his thick length, eyes rolling back as you’re about to cum, pressure insane.

“S-Satoru… wh-what? I… ngh! Fuck!” You’re shattering, cumming so hard you’re a twitching mess under him, and he’s groaning as he feels you pulsing around him, his own pretty eyes rolling back.

“Fuck you feel so goddamn perfect. Say it, I need to fill you up, so good with me, will you be a good girl and say it?” He’s whispering, tickling the sensitive lobe of your ear, before running the tip of his tongue up it, and you’re gripping the soft blankets beneath you, fading in and out of consciousness at how good it feels, at the consuming storm that was Satoru Gojo.

“That’s… we… just talk? I…”

“Not just talk.” He laughs harshly, shaking his head as he now puts his heavy weight on you, as his abdomen tenses, and his cock thickens in your tight entrance, and he’s cupping your face with his huge hands, biting your lower lip and breathing heavy as he pumps in your soaking wet cunt. “Don’t take them anymore. Lemme knock you up, have you so big with me.”

“Fuck! Satoru…”

“No.” He slaps your cheek, and you whimper, as the sting knocks you even more senseless.

“Daddy.”

“Mmm, good girl. Say it, now. No birth control.” You’re fading out even more, as he’s pressing your thighs completely against your breasts, as you cannot breathe anything but his scent, as his sweat drips down and you taste it on your lips. And his gaze, stormy and insane, takes you over.

“Want your babies, want them.” You whisper, but he laughs, Mad Hatter grin on his gorgeous fucking face, leaning up now, easing your legs down to rest on his hips, your heels pressing into the strong muscles of his lower back. He presses a hand on your tummy, and feels himself inside you, grinning so wide.

“Feel me fucking up your guts, huh? Wait till you’re so full of me, wait till your tits get so big, dripping with milk. And you’re so round here, baby will be so big, what will your tiny fucking body do?” You’re blinking rapidly, struggling to focus, but he moves his hand and you see it, your tummy bulging, and you’re flushing, overheated, overwhelmed by him.

“You want that, T-Toru?” You manage to whisper, and he bites that lower lip, rolling his hips just so, tip dragging on your g spot, having you a writhing mess under him, nails digging into his sides, feeling his muscles tense.

“I want it so bad, fuck I wanna keep you pregnant, won’t even give you a goddamn break. Put cum in you anytime I want. You’ll let me, won’t you? Such a good girl for Daddy.”

Fuck he’s nuts.

Fuck you’re into it.

You nod then, and he smirks, his pretty pink lips turning up at the corner, as he shoves in so deep it’s bruising, and you scream loud, earning an even wider smirk, his eyes getting lidded. They’re so dilated you can only see the thin ring of that brilliant fucking blue, almost all black like some goddamn sex demon, but maybe that’s what Satoru Gojo was.

And you fucking love it.

“Need you to use your words, pretty little slut. Slut for me, pussy this wet for me, you only moan for me. Say it.” He’s desperate now, as his hands are holding you in place as he rocks his hips, pushing into you over and over, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room, mixing with your gasps and whimpers. “Use that pretty mouth, or did I fuck you stupid?”

You can’t form a goddamn thought aside from how sore you are and how good that pain feels, mixing with the insane pleasure. Satoru’s cock is relentless, filling you so completely that you feel like you’re going to break, but you crave it, you crave his dominance, his possession of your body. You can feel yourself tightening around him, your muscles spasming as you chase the high of your orgasm.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me. So tight, so perfect. Tell me it, please. Please.” He whispers against your ear, leaning down as he pins you, not letting you move, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, making you shiver.

“It’s too much! Satoru, too much!”

“Nah, you got it, like a perfect little slut. My slut. Aren’t you baby?” He leans up, hand squeezing your throat, smiling as he sees those tears of overstimulation, and you start floating, feeling like you’re on some other existence with him. “Can my poor baby not fucking speak?

“Mmm! I… y-yes. Yes!”

“Then say it, you’ll have my babies. Be my pretty little fucking stay at home mommy, yeah?” He’s pounding even deeper, and you feel any shreds of feminism you had left (They’ve been few and far between since you let this psycho fuck your brains literally out) fall away.

He’s insane.

Is it just sexy talk? Is it just a kink?

He yanks out and you whine at the emptiness, hands reaching out for him, as he leans up and scowls now. “You’re a bad girl. You won’t say the right thing. Should I punish you, not let you cum?”

“No! Please, please… don’t stop.” You beg, your voice trembling as you feel yourself craving him so badly inside. Satoru rubs his tip teasingly between your folds, chuckling then, his other hand bracing himself on the other side of your head, clinging into your hair, pulling just hard enough to prick tears in your eyes.

“Then be a good girl.” He whispers, cooing those words as he’s pressing just the tip in, and you’re pulsing around it, desperately trying to pull him closer, deeper. He glares then, eyes narrowing. “Gonna cum from my tip? Needy slut. Why not say it, say how good you’ll be.”

“I’ll have your babies, I told you Toru. Mmm!” He pushes in again, but he doesn’t move, as your wriggle under him helplessly. “Please, oh please, please…”

“And how are you gonna have my babies, on your stupid fucking pill huh?”

He’s brushing your hair back lovingly as he speaks harshly, as he talks insane shit, and your mind is muddled, as you’re so fucking pathetic for him. You gulp now, picturing it, picturing him trying to put a baby in you, picturing you pregnant with his baby, and it… fuck it does shit to you.

You’re even wetter, and he notices, with a smirk on his pretty face, as he squeezes your chin tightly, so goddamn possessive. “Toru…”

“Say it.”

“Fuck. I’ll throw em out.” He responds with a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls back and shoves in deep, and you’re crying out, head pressing back into those pillows of his, your hips rolling up for more.

“That’s my girl. Gonna let me knock your perfect pussy up?” He says then, and you nod eagerly, as he finally picks up the pace, driving into you like he’s trying to reach your soul, and he already goddamn has. “Good girl, you’re so good, gonna be such a good mommy, huh?”

“I will, I will. I want it, fuck. I wanna do it, put it in me.” You plead now, with watery eyes, your hands clinging to the top of his shoulder desperately, as he holds back just a bit, watching you fall apart. “Please, put one in me, a baby. Promise, will throw the pills out. Ah- fuck!” You scream out again, lost in the sensation of his pounding cock now, in the pain and pleasure that he brings.

I took a lil break bc I was finishing up fics first and started Silent Serenades! I hope you all will enjoy the ending few chaps of this one ❤️

[maiaspen]

Hey “Oblivion Gin” readers!

I swear to the Force that I am working hard on the finale for you! 💚 My writing confidence took a bit of a hit last month. I am human. I go through feels, sometimes inconvenient ones.

Thank you to all of my readers for continuing to support and encourage me. I’m hoping to have the story finished this month. 💪

Here’s another little teaser for you. The scene picking up where my last teaser left off. Here

I also have glorious supporting art by @kana7o to treat your eyes 😏

Please remember that this is a very rough draft, what ultimately makes it onto ao3 will be heavily scrutinized 🧐 these are just the raw words as they pour out of me. 

Thank you all for your support! I can’t wait to share the full finale with you 💚💚💚

xo Maia

💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚

Chapter 9 excerpt…

Anakin doubles his already quite doubled efforts to hustle, weaving pedestrians and commuters on citibikes and landspeeders. He’s aware that his surroundings are Coruscant-rush-hour-level-of-loud, and that it’s daylight; but only because Orea Dea’s singular sun has teamed-up with the Force to highlight his Jedi targets.

Entering the crowded spaceport, Anakin decelerates to a sneaky jog. The Force insists that he assess the situation before drawing his lightsaber and trimming Fisto’s tentacles (and testicles).

The pair of Masters are standing – huddled shoulder-to-shoulder– next to a cargo freighter that looks like it’s being prepped for take-off.

To Anakin’s tremendous relief, Obi-Wan’s posture is strong. He’s handsome as ever, fair head and facial-hair have been groomed to perfection. He’s dressed in his boots and tunic, which the medical staff was kind enough to launder. All of the sweaty-oily-mulchy- bloody souvenirs from their crab droid and ass face battle royales have been cleared away. Obi-Wan looks the epitome of a proper Jedi Master. But Fisto . . .

The droid wasn’t exaggerating.

Anakin gasps as bewilderment sweeps like a blizzard through his mind, whiting-out thoughts of all else but what Fisto is wearing. Or rather– not wearing.

(Thank you @kana7o for this Fisto sketch💚)

The Nautolan is clad in a darkened leather toga – a toga that looks like it’s been sized for Master Yoda. The skirt portion brushes his thick thighs, barely concealing his dignity. If there is a gust of wind – or if Fisto even raises his arms to stretch – everyone in this spaceport will see his cock and balls! Unless he’s wearing underwear, which Anakin strongly doubts. And the green bastard is wearing the toga like he’s doing it a favor. His muscles are bursting out of the garment. Those chiseled biceps and pecs belong on a Holomovie screen (probably a porno), not a public spaceport. There are younglings milling about!

Has the Nautolan been working-out obsessively the whole time they’ve been hospitalized? Gaining muscle and losing modesty?! Even from eight meters away Anakin can count his eight abdominals.

The ‘outfit’ includes knee-high strappy sandals, which accentuate his strong calves, and even– is that a collar? And, yes, Fisto is wearing a collar. A leather one with a metalloid loop. It’s like he’s begging to be latched by some kinky leash.

Master Kit Fisto is hotter than fire. He’s center-of-a-sun, liquid magma hot. How his toga hasn’t burst into flames, Anakin does not know. And, right now, Obi-Wan is reaching upward . . . laying a hand on that bulging bicep and squeezing—

“MASTER!” Anakin screams as though Obi-Wan is touching liquid magma! With a mighty Force-leap he closes the distance, landing before the Masters and snatching Obi-Wan’s hand. Anakin holds his Master’s hand to his chest like he’s saved it from a brutal roasting.

Obi-Wan makes a face like Anakin has pissed in his morning tea.

So, Anakin counters: pushing his bottom lip out, going for the most adorable pout he can muster. The kind of expression that always softened his mother’s irritation when he was late for their evening meal. To Anakin’s surprise, Obi-Wan actually blushes. Really blushes. Anakin is certain his rouge can be seen from outer space. Did touching Fisto actually burn him?

Suddenly, Anakin can feel his Master’s Force signature again – vibrating and sizzling like it’s super-heating. But Master Kenobi quickly regains control of his dermal blood vessels and his shielding, retaining the aurora of one who is cool and centered.

“I’ll take this back, thank you,” Obi-Wan says as he pulls his hand from Anakin’s grasp. He then offers a small but earnest smile, adding: “It’s good to see you up and about again, Anakin.”

“Thank you, Master. I can say the same to you–” Anakin starts, intending to ask what-in-all-the-hells is going on, when Fisto clears his throat.

The Nautolan grins broadly, teeth glinting like pearls under the sunlight. Anakin orders himself to keep looking at Fisto’s teeth. Not lower, not lower. “It is indeed good to see you both up and about,” Fisto declares. “I spoke with Master Windu this morning. The Council is sending a team to sluth-out what happened to the senator’s shuttle. They will arrive tomorrow, at which time you two are to take their transport back to Coruscant. I’m afraid our little shuttle is officially out-of-commission.”

Anakin processes Fisto’s words out loud. “So. Master Fisto, you won’t be . . .” he pauses. Pushing the obnoxious optimism from his voice is like trying to shove against a stubborn bantha. “ . . . you won’t be joining us on our voyage to Coruscant?”

Fisto smirks as though he is a stubborn bantha. “No.”

Anakin’s signature surges like a double nova! He barely resists cartwheeling all over the spaceport! He and Obi-Wan will be traveling back to Coruscant together and alone.

And are they spending the night here alone, too? Or is Fisto in his ‘little slut get-up’ going to be the third wheel?

“What’s with the, um,” Anakin waves his hands vaguely about Fisto’s ensemble. “The whole . . . whore look? And where did you get that outfit anyway? Are you going somewhere dressed like that?”

Obi-Wan cringes at Anakin’s words, but Fisto’s already broad smile only widens. “I’m being deployed. Immediately,” Fisto points to the nearby cargo freighter. “It’s an undercover mission. I’m being smuggled to Nal Hutta as a pleasure slave. I’m to be sold upon landing to my . . . target. I cannot divulge any further details, you understand. And, Skywalker, the Council has wardrobe sources on nearly every Republic planet,” Fisto says as though Anakin should know that. Which he does, he just didn’t know that the Republic’s sources kept skimpy togas on hand.

The weight of Fisto’s words take a moment to sink into Anakin’s brain, but when they do . . .

Anakin shakes his head, wanting the weight to be gone. “Hold on, the Council is sending you alone?”

Fisto nods. “They are.”

“Kit is quite capable of handling himself,” Obi-Wan interjects carefully, sensing Anakin’s . . . what? His concern? No. No way. He’s not concerned for Fisto safety. He’s fucking thrilled that Fisto is going away. Far, far away.

Anakin scoffs, though the sound comes out as more nervous than he’d intended. “Yeah, of course. I mean, obviously. But . . . is the mission dangerous? Are you going to have to perform sex duties and–?”

“Anakin. Kit cannot share any further details with us,” Obi-Wan scold-reminds, though Anakin can now sense that his Master is concerned. Obi-Wan turns his attention back upon Fisto, and smiles with warm reassurance. “I am glad for this opportunity to see you off, Kit.”

“Me too,” Anakin says, then turns an accusatory glare upon his Master. “Though, how come neither of you were planning to include me? I couldn’t sense you, Master. And if I hadn’t returned to your sickbed when I did, and interrogated that awful droid, then I may not have even found you on time.”

Obi-Wan lowers his voice as though trying to sooth a hostile assailant: “I needed to have a private word with Kit–”

Anakin intercepts his Master’s defense. “A private word, huh? Is that the only private thing you needed to have?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes narrow fractionally, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Besides, Anakin, the medical droid reported that you were occupied.”

Uninterested in Obi-Wan’s paltry excuses, Anakin turns his accusatory glare upon the scantily-clad Nautolan. “And you! Couldn’t you have changed into that on the freighter instead of schutta-strutting around this port?!”

Amusement flickers over Fisto’s signature and within his eyes. “The droid crew has been programmed to thoroughly shackle me upon boarding. While I am an apt-multitasker, I’m afraid that I cannot undress and redress with my arms, legs and neck bound.” Fisto looks to the cargo freighter, which is flashing its ‘five-minutes-to-launch’ warning. He reaches behind himself, and Anakin only now notices that Fisto is wearing a leather satchel. He rummages within the satchel until he finds something that makes his signature ping with delight.

“Ah, here,” Fisto pulls out the half-empty bottle of Oblivion Gin. “The Council has granted you both the evening free. You have orders to relax, and I am ordering you to . . . indulge,” his grin thins into a cheeky smirk. “Enjoy.” Fisto hands Obi-Wan the bottle. Obi-Wan accepts the gin as though Fisto is giving him a writhing whip-snake.

“Oh, oh . . . really, I cannot accept. This is far too . . . generous,” Obi-Wan almost sounds flustered.

“I insist,” Fisto pushes the bottle at Obi-Wan with oomph, and he begrudgingly accepts. “A shot or two will do you good, my friend. And you,” Fisto’s dark eyes find Anakin’s, flaring with equal parts challenge and warning. “You may need three or four shots.”

“ALL ABOARD!” A mechanical voice blears loudly from the cargo freighter. “WE WILL DEPART IN TWO MINUTES.”

Anakin opens his mouth to say something . . . say thank you? Say goodbye? Say good luck? But it’s suddenly like all of this planet’s air has been sucked away into space, and no words come out.

Anakin feels Fisto’s large, cool hand on his right shoulder, offering a brief squeeze of reassurance. Then he watches as Fisto grants Obi-Wan the same gesture, which Obi-Wan returns.

“My comrades,” Fisto says those two words in a way that makes Anakin’s heart-clench, though he doesn’t know why. “Our physical bodies do not have forever,” Fisto’s gaze sweeps from Obi-Wan’s to Anakin’s and back again. Under the brilliant sunlight Fisto’s blacker-than-black eyes are not black at all. They are a warm honeyed-gold, flecked with blue from the sky. “Time is short, and most of ours is filled with brutality and turmoil . . .” he flashes those too-perfect teeth. Again. “So, go on then, fill as much time as you can with happiness.”

“ALL ABOARD! WE WILL DEPART IN ONE MINUTE.”

“May the Force be with you,” Fisto bids them, then turns on his sandaled heels, tentacles bouncing, and sprints for the freighter.

As Fisto rushes away his toga skirt flares upward and –

By the Force.

Fisto is definitely not wearing any underwear. And his bare ass . . . well, it looks just as holoporn-worthy as the rest of him. The Nautolan probably possesses the two most flawlessly firm green globes in the galaxy. And, really, Anakin expected nothing less.

Several nearby senients squeal in horny delight – like they’ve been flashed by some celebrity heartthrob. An older female Rodian swoons and sways on her feet like she’s about to faint. Fortunately her traveling companion steadies her, though his jaw has nearly dropped to the walkway.

Anakin is surprised to hear himself laughing, and, damn, it actually sounds and feels . . . good. “May the Force be with you, too, Master!” Anakin calls after Fisto, straining his voice over the whirring engine and roaring thrusters.

“May the Force be with you,” Obi-Wan barely whispers. Anakin doubts Fisto even heard him, though he’s certain that the Nautolan feels the sentiment.

Anakin and Obi-Wan watch as Fisto’s tentacles disappear up the closing loading ramp. Within three heartbeats the freighter launches into the bright sky, fading away toward the outer rim.

Anakin’s mirth fades along with the freighter. A new concern has wriggled into his brain. “Does Fisto even have his lightsaber? He can’t possibly be keeping it inside that satchel. The first thing the slavers will do is search his belongings.”

Obi-Wan frowns thoughtfully. “He would not be storing it in the satchel, no.”

“Then where . . .”

🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚🍆💚

My next update with be the final chapter! 🥲

[clairethecutepup]

Interesting fact: there's a multitude of reasons why goats are associated with Satan.

[delicatenightfury]

Star of the Mountain Part 4 Preview

Warnings: fluff, angst, canon-level violence, spoilers for the Hobbit films

Pairing: OC x Thorin Oakenshield

Beta'd By: @mistys-blerbz

Author's Note: please do not steal my work! I do not own the Hobbit or the characters, but I do own my OCs and the parts of the plot that are not part of the movies. I have worked very hard on this fic. Please be respectful and do not steal.

“I don’t know how much longer I can handle this,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. Balin and Dwalin walked on either side of him as they made their way to the council hall for the upcoming meeting. “I can barely get close to her.”

“Vedis does seem more protective than usual,” Dwalin said.

“Her sister was injured not long ago,” Balin pointed out. “Perhaps Vedis is just being vigilant.”

“Oreliell can look after herself,” Thorin said. “I haven’t had one moment with her since before the battle.”

The sons of Fundin exchanged a look.

“Perhaps that has something to do with it?” Balin said. “Unfortunately, things were not left well off. Yes, the sickness had great influence, but perhaps it has left a lingering wound for Oreliell.”

“And that is why I wish to speak with her, Balin,” Thorin said. “She is my One. I want to make amends, but that is hard to do when I can’t… Kili, what are you doing?”

[mimigodev]

Awakened without memories or names,

Two souls set forth, the world unclaimed.

In their hearts, a forgotten flame,

Guides them through a land untamed.

The summary for a romance adventure story coming soon. My complete retelling of the Genshin Impact story featuring Xiao and Venti as the main characters.