#Air Beds Market Challenges | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zarameraki · 8 months ago

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♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶��𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you sat a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame, and revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly drawn, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you— I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing from his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic notions.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, wearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod.

He was Sukuna.

Your Sukuna.

“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re— You’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Sukuna . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

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strab3rr · 26 days ago

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(long story and no short sorry) GUYSSS I DID ITT

I INDUCED IT!!!!! I WAS PURE AS A FUCKING BABY

IDK WHAT TO SAY (ok enough w capslock)

i have so much to say and not a thing at da same time idk how

anyway i want to begin with thanking you @b4ddprincess bc youre the reason i realized why i started this thing. thank you for making my life better and make me realized what i need to do: nothing. (its same for you guys, all u have to do is nothing)

two fuckn years ago i said to myself that i need a better life, quiter life, less fight with everthing bc everything was so loud and not clear i was feeling lost like a child in the market, and i wanted to make things better for myself in every way, but the main idea of my reasons to wanting to get in the void was: making anxiety go and having better people in my life. but the ''voidlist'' just never stopped bc im kinda greedy(having the idea of controling on your life, the idea of that power makes you greedy. yes thats a thing) anyway the more i add to the list the more i feel like im movin away from my desires then i feel depressed bc ive overcomplicating it bc theres so many things to do but i dont do anything so nothing happend bc i was waiting to be someth happen. and then i started doing awkwardly silly things such as: void routines and challenges and (im embarrassed of this one bc i was too desperate) drinking water

youve read it correct drinking water.

i was sooo desperate for having those things id do anything to get them.

i am simple. i want what everyone wants🎀🎀🎀: shifting realities bc i have so many crush and i need them to be crush me in bed(for 2020 girlies)

being an academic weapon is so easy for me🎀(bc of the urge to make my family proud) +dream collage

being the girl that everyone gets along w(basic needs)

being the girl who is pretty not cute(trauma response)

glowing aura(cats loves people w glowing aura yes thats a thing too)

dream body n hair(bc i deserve this🎀)

healthy (girlyfriend)friends(basic needs)

and of course him, my sp(i cant tell wich one at that time but i releived that its not him now, bc MY BELOVED CURRENT BF. guyss he is the one. dont u dare ask me how you know? i literally manifested him🎀)

then i realized i can have everything bc its my reality so why not add these:

new phone, +macbook air

dream apartment of my own

pinterest closet

lifa app for this reality

financially free-money(a lot. like really a lot)

knowing 4 languages like a native person(bc i want to be diplomat so bad) +sign language(its in general)

a little drama(its not gonna hurt anybody)

my parents being more lovable and away from me

every time i try to get in, either i was failing or falling

and im sick of it, sick of it so much i quit.(for a year)

then i go to the theraphy(ofc no im jk ilove being crazy)

one day i saw a post ss from tumblr about pure consciousness on pinterest and i was like whaat is thiiss. no mention of void so i thougt its a diffrent thing and i download the tumblr again and search everything abt it. and same excitement again after one year same thougts and same list popes up in my head. and i was like ok maybe this time itll happen.

still waiting to be someth happen so nothing happend, it was such a waste of time trying to get in while i was already be, i was already what i want to become. i was that girl that everyone gets along with but i couldnt even see bc i was too focused on wanting to be. but still tried every night and failed. and again tried-failed-quit circle bc.. have you ever met me🎀

4 month ago i saw the girl, iconic blogger and the goddess of my dreams, her @b4ddprincess thx again love u so much

a post pops in my fyp and i see the words ''pure consciousness'' i was like noo not again. and i was serious abt it i wasnt gonna read the whole thing but it attract me n i couldnt resist it so ive read it from the top to the bottom. and she got my interest so i stalked her page from the last and to the first post. it was quiet a beautiful journey for me. lasted like 3 days, the end of the 3rd day i was ''woaw it was this easy all along? u cant be serious.'' she was. i tried one last time, no breathing exercise, no ridiculous routines and no waiting something to be happen. it was just me being real me chilling out asf.

and it was this easy and it should be this easy bc being your 4d self is being nothing also being everything at the same time. if u wanna be everything you should be nothing first(as wizardliz saying: drop the old story, leave the victimhood, for being better stop being bitter etc.)u should make a space for everything first and then u can be everything.

for being 4d self of yours stop being your3dself.

sooo long story (no)short i am writing this from my mac in my new apartment(in middle of the night bc i couldnt sleep and then one tumblr notification reminded me i have a success story to share too) and my phone buzzing two minutes a time bc of my friends while im writing this, so if theres anything wrong ignore it pls.

oh u asking my bf how cute, hes sleepin in my bed now, exhausted from the work n school balance.

YWS SCHOOL!! im in my dream collage and im going to be in paris for a week. i deserve a vacation i guess(its for another conference), i kinda hate french men bc theyre so mansplaning(not like how i imagined, its hard to be friends w them)girls are cute but i feel like theyre aware im not permanent there so we just con buddies still cute and hepful for this foreigner.

and i canceled the lifa app thingy bc i can be my purest consciousness anytime i want, so i am my lifa app.

and thx to 4 languages i make a lot of money and that brings us to the pinterest closet, yesterday i realiased that. theyre not comes to me w an imaginary way like i imagined! i go outside for shopping casually and theyre there luckily i have enough money to buy them.

and my family theyre living in our hometown now so as i want it to be, we are away from eachother.

and the most magical thing: SHIFTING REALITIESSS

i did 5 world before i met w my bf. it was such a wonderful experience. if you have doubts abt shifting you can go fuck urself

because sir i did it and i am very sure that dean winchester being my husband is not a daydream, fantasy nor lucid dreaming. believe it or not he kissed me GOD HE KİSSED ME(someone should stop me i have a bf)

is there anything i missed let me see.. cats i have 2 cats now and theyre adorable. glowing aura-check

the girl who is pretty not cute- check +make anxietygo-checkcheckcheck

dream body and hair- check and check

i wanna give u a info i didnt have all my desires by being my4dself

not directly actually. but i have them all. and thats the point.

im not trying to be a blogger but if you have any question abt anything, id be happy to help

now i need to upgrade things in my farm byeess

loves, siena.

#void success stories #pure consciousness #i am state #the void state #4d reality #void state #loass #manifesation #manifesting #shiftblr #shifting consciousness #manifestblr

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occamstfs · 2 months ago

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Man Of Your Dreams

Wallflower Dylan is gifted a new psychedelic from his friend. Used to watching frat bros from afar he finds the pill seems to affect far more than his mind.

Intended this to be plot light but so it goes! Probably going to take this week off to avail myself to other authors entering my Viral Transformation Challenge! The next story will likely be my own take on the theme so look forward to that next week alongside those from a litany of other stellar TF writers! Until then! -Occam

Dylan was fairly straight-laced, going into his senior year of university he hadn’t strayed much at all from class besides tagging along with his friend from high school to some of the more boisterous frat parties. Said friend Tony was quite more of a wild child, often invited himself because he was the source of some of the more illicit substances to be found at these parties. He’d invite Dylan whenever he’d need a more sober pair of eyes, namely if he was planning on rolling or otherwise getting high on his own supply. Despite his mild manner, Dylan always hopped on the chance, going to ragers was supposed to be part of the whole college deal right? And besides, he didn’t mind the chance to ogle brazen men he would under normal circumstances be fearful of making eye contact with.

Knowing of his friend’s meek disposition, and repressed hunger for the most vulgar of men, when Tony hears of a crazy new psychedelic on the market he has a feeling Dylan might finally let his hair loose. Reviews say the stuff makes reality feel like a waking dream. Anything seems possible and to your body it might as well be. Steamier sources swear that dreaming about sex on the stuff is even better than the real thing. Tony, never concerned about side effects of his material, gets straight to hitting up the usual channels to see what he can get and is able to scrounge up a single pill of the stuff. He wonders if he should try it out himself first before deciding he owes his friend at least first dibs.

Dylan is floored at how quickly he agreed to taking the pill. After initially being standoffish at Tony’s suggestion that he use it to fuck frat bros in his mind, once his friend started explaining what he’s heard Dylan couldn’t pass up the opportunity to really live out his fantasy. He’s not going to outgrow being a wallflower, nor is at all confident that any of the performatively masculine men would fuck him. Staring at the pill the only thing holding him back is Tony’s vapid instructions. ‘Just have a blast dude, fuck your way through those bros hah!’ Dylan’s asking about the side effects falls on deaf ears as Tony just crassly humps the air to try to convince his friend to go out on a limb. Despite his qualms and fears, and the lack of confidence inspired by Tony’s actions, Dylan feels sure that his friend wouldn’t give him something actually potentially dangerous.

Holding tight to that misplaced confidence, as soon as Tony departs Dylan pours himself a glass of water and chokes the pill down. The small tablet leaves a metallic taste in his mouth, quickly hidden by the copious amount of saliva and bile starting to rise in the back of his throat as he immediately feels the urge to vomit. Man of will despite appearances, he keeps it down and just as soon scowls as he thinks about the lack of preparation offered by his friend and prepares to tear into Tony as soon as the trip is over. Standing up he feels the room spinning around and murmurs in shock, “su- surely it’s shouldn- work this… fas-” He stumbles over to his bed and falls face down as he feels his body growing sweaty.

Before his well-practiced anxiety response can rise his mind is flooded with every pleasant hormone it’s able to produce. Every muscle in his body tenses and he feels his cock struggle to force itself erect in the awkward position he’s fallen in. Dylan moans as every sensation sends signals so intense and potent that his mind can barely maintain consciousness. Indeed he finds himself struggling to even hold his eyes open as his eyelids grow weighty. Even perfunctory bodily functions feel erotic as he begins to fade, the burning of cold air in his stretching lungs, the sound of his own heartbeat and the warmth of blood coursing through his veins. Drool immediately pools under his head as he crests into a stuporous induced unconsciousness, far too unprepared for what awaits him in his trip, and the new world he is to encounter afterwards.

Dylan is sitting in a chair across from a man he knows too well and not at all. Face to face with Ben Harrington, president of Beta Delta Alpha, Dylan has to push down the immediate rush of fear. Taking a breath he reminds himself that this is a dream, one that Tony swears he should have pretty lucid control over. As the president stands opposed, leaning on nothing he flexes his arms and the pastel button up Dylan usually sees him clad in changes into a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. He smirks as he pushes sunglasses up his face and speaks in a tone intoxicated, under the influence of nothing but Dylan himself. His raspy voice sends a shiver down the meek man’s spine as he feels himself unable to retreat, “So, uhh, Dylan is it?”

Approaching enough to touch him, Ben puts an arm over Dylan’s shoulder, exposing his clearly unwashed pit. Dylan takes a deep breath and forces his eyes closed from the burning over-stimulation of this man baring down on him. Still, from the sticky breath blowing across the face it's clear he is continuing to inch even closer, “You want me do you?” Dylan gulps as the man gets even closer, Ben’s lips almost touching his own, “Or do you just want to be me?” This takes Dylan out of it as he steps back away from the imposing man. Eyes opening he tries to manipulate the scene as Tony implied he should be able to. The Ben of his mind tilts his head and tsks, “‘Fraid you’re not the one in charge here after all.”

Ben closes the gap once more and throws his arm around the easily manhandled Dylan pulling his body against his own sweat stained form. He smirks and leans in directly to whisper something into the dreamer’s ear, “and if you do really wanna fuck me, well. You’re gonna have to become something more my type. Yeah?” Dylan blinks in surprise, he’s heard of bad trips and the like but something seems decidedly wrong here. Before he’s able to come to any cogent conclusion the dream Ben reaches down his free hand into Dylan’s pants. His sweaty hand instantly wraps around the smaller man’s balls and squeeze. Dylan hasn’t a chance to scream in shock he feels himself lose control. Of his body, his mind, and the world around him as he begins to fall back.

He’s humping the air as he’s falling into an abyss. He doesn’t feel the fear that this descent should evoke. Usually nightmares that turn this way immediately blast him back to consciousness, instead it fills him with adrenaline that only heightens the delight coursing out from his cock. Sure that he’s now laying face down in a pool of his own semen in the real world, Dylan does what he can to focus on the pleasure as intended.

The sound of wind tearing past him makes him unable to hear his moaning screams as his clothes are shredded by the searing gale. Rapt in delight, the blaring gusts begin to slow. Air caresses him like a full body hug and suddenly he is deposited onto soft ground. Dylan doesn’t quite repose as his body continues convulsing. Cum begins to sprinkle down on him from the plethora of loads released during his descent and he finally finds wherewithal to paw at his crotch. Grasping at his balls he finds them unmistakably larger, “Wha?” No longer falling, Dylan opens his eyes and seems to be back in reality.

Dylan awakens and blearily rubs his eyes with clearly semen stained hands. “Oh what the, ugh- Am I awake?” His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of a room that is decidedly not his bedroom. “Can’t be right?” Shaking the mess off his hands without a second thought he stands to his feet with a grunt and feels his cock bobbing, still impossibly rigid. His hands return to this turgid beacon before they almost happenstance fondle his balls. His sluggish mind struggles with how heavy and large they feel, nothing like the ones he has in reality. He smirks as the last words of Ben snake through his mind- “Become something more my type.” Who’d’ve thunk the president was into horndogs.”

Sniffing the air he begins to inspect the room surrounding him. Dirty clothes litter the floor and he finds a pervasive musk filling the air. Something in the back of his mind itches that there should be a can of axe around somewhere to cover it up, which he ignores for a number of reasons. He should be able to will the room to stop stinking. He certainly wouldn't do so with cheap body spray, and for the life of him he can’t bring himself to want to. Each deep breath of the stink he finds himself growing even hornier. Dylan feels his balls churning as he grasps them, he’s already cum a good number of times and yet he still craves release.

He imagines the firm ass of a frat brother and leans against his dresser he uncontrollably begins to hump once more. Something flickers at the back of his mind yet again and he rips into an open drawer. Throwing clothes onto the pile of dirtied garments already littering the floor, Dylan removes a fleshlight which he proceeds to make exuberant use of. No time for his mind to question why he’s suddenly a top as his cock fills the sex toy more with every grunting thrust.

Pubes scratch against his thumb as his crotch shifts into one that would instantly render a razor unusable. Likewise hair that has never even had to be controlled on his ass begins to thicken, growing itchy as a true jungle of curls begins to flourish on both sides of his waist. Soon enough his cock grows large enough that the toy is rendered unusable, with a furrowed brow and ungrateful grunt he tosses it to his room leaving it dripping on the floor as he somehow remains just as sexually unfulfilled as when he began, “Fuck I need the real thing…”

The real thing not present Dylan looks down at his cock and gasps as he sees what has become of his package. He doesn’t have a ton of sex but he usually keeps it clean and pretty hairless down there just for his own sake. Beyond the forest of pubes thick enough to get his hand stuck in, he covers his mouth in shock as he sees a veiny cock larger than he’s ever seen on a man with the low hanging massive balls to match. He does his best to focus up on anything besides how horny he is, but as pre continues to trickle from his hardened cock that becomes increasingly difficult. He bites his lip and looks past his throbbing cock at the floor. If he puts it away perhaps it’ll quiet of its own accord.

Dylan doesn’t pay heed to which clothes are clean or dirty as he throws on whatever best could hide his cock from his hands and mind. Nor could he notice just how far cleanliness and decency have fallen as priorities for him as he struggles to fit his package in clearly stained sweatpants. Itching at his waist as his pubes begin creeping up into a treasure trail racing to mee the spreading curls beginning to decorate his chest, his dull awareness finally notices that his whole body has begun changing. His thin arms have clearly put on powerful muscle from his mindless sessions of self-love, veins trailing down them make it difficult for him not to get straight back to masturbating at the thought of his own strength.

Similarly his eyes latch onto a chest that has somehow exploded into pecs without his knowing. Muscle that has never begun to grace his body now jiggles with every movement. He clenches his jaw hard trying to muster willpower not to give into his most basal urges, but as he feels his thighs fill the sweatpants he just threw on he wonders how long he could possibly hold out. His cluttered mind struggles to recall that he is on some kind of psychedelic trip as he fails to remember how long Tony said it would last. Instead swimming through dulling memories the voice of his, er, the frat president speaks up. “Ah god… You’re looking fucking good Big D. How’s your mind hangin’ in there?”

It takes a few moments for the words to sink in before Dylan can reply, “My, unh- mind?” His balls pulse as his eyes dash across the room while he struggles to think. God he’s been struggling to think this whole time. His cock lurches as he’s able to realize that every thought in his mind has been growing increasingly clouded. “Big D?” Dylan can’t help but smirk as his beyond impressive cock strains his sweatpants at being called Big D. He grunts as he tries to shake off the lusty delirium, “Need to chill out. Ugh. Sober up.” He hears the president tsk at him yet again, waiting with bated breath for the mans words his pecs bulge even larger on his chest. “Too late for that bro, just give in. Why have a trip into true unadulterated ecstasy when you can have a lifetime. You can finally be the man of your dreams.”

As soon as the words of Ben, his president, are spoken in his mind it becomes clear that Big D doesn’t even have the ability to fight back against the ever-present urges that now control his body. He tears off the sweatpants that were barely holding in there as he fully give himself to whatever is calling out for him, the drug, Ben Harrington, whatever. His body bulks beyond measure to become man enough to carry the vulgar package that lies in his crotch. He masturbates into the leg of his sweatpants torn asunder as his torso bulks up, evidence of his endless celebrations as a man of Beta Delta Alpha.

Bestial body hair begins to cover his torso as his beard grows thick and dark. The tangle of hair in his pits thickens and spreads enough that it, nor it’s dominating musk, could ever be hidden. Muscle bulges on his arms large enough to haul kegs and toss out fuckers that get to rowdy at their festivities. Beyond apathetic to manicuring his appearance as he knows he’ll have people lining up at his doorstep regardless of needless things like hygiene or cleanliness he rubs his thick sweat covered thighs and feels how sensitive every inch of his skin has become.

He smirks as he imagines, recalls rather, how constantly he gets to enjoy the sensual opportunities offered by his new form. He’s got all he needs dangling between his thick thighs and everyone who matters already knows it. The president certainly does. Big D smirks as he thinks of their vacations together on the frat’s dime. He puts his arms behind his head and sniffs his musky pits as he lays in repose, a thick cloud of musky sweat surrounds him as he begins to hear the sound of festivities breaking out on the floor below him and someone’s fervent footsteps racing up the stairs to his den.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Big D imagines that some couple is looking for an empty room with urgency. He paws at his crotch excited to join in on their fun. Instead he sees some nervous looking guy who freezes as soon as he sees the behemoth, fear in his eyes. “D-Dylan!? I- That drug, there was something, something s-” He stutters and his hands shake as Big D rolls his eyes and stands almost two heads taller than he should over Tony, one of their frat’s little party drug dealers. Still, he wouldn’t have come up here for no reason. Big D silences him with a finger and slams the door shut behind him. Tony’s brow furrows as he looks around the room in confusion. Even his perpetually drug-addled mind can tell something unreal, something impossible has happened to his friend. “That pill can’t have done this right?” Tony takes nervous breaths and Big D’s musk rapidly fills his lungs, distracting him from whatever petty issue brought him in. Who cares about concern when his small cock is beginning to rise from simply standing near the priapic titan.

Big D’s voice rumbles through Tony, making him weak at the knees, “You wanna have some fun don’t you?” The drug dealer can’t help but nod and swallow the drool pooling in his mouth as the bestial Adonis stands over him, cock dripping ever-ready for another round. Tony isn’t sure if he’s started tripping himself or what, but as he begins making out with the frat bro he finds himself not minding as memories of whoever Dylan was disappear. After all pleasure is the most important thing, and no one is better at spreading heady delight than Big D.

#male tf #mental change #jockification #frat bro tf #dumber #hair growth #muscle tf #masculinization #male transformation #fratification #himbofication

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buckysdollbarnes · 4 months ago

Text

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader series #marvel fanfiction #Bucky Barnes slow burn

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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childhood sweethearts (7) II a.russo x reader

series playlist part one part two part three part four part five part six

another flashback, and some fluffy little firsts for our star crossed lovers childhood sweethearts (7) II a.russo x reader

eleven years old; the (sort of) first kiss

"did you see charlie and lily today at lunch?" you asked your best friend scrunching your nose in disgust, her head resting beside yours as the two of you lay on her bed, currently overcoming food comas after gorging yourselves on movie snacks all night.

"they looked like they were trying to eat others faces." alessia agreed before making a weird noise and attacking you, pretending to be some sort of monster as you shoved her off you with a grin.

"is that how you're supposed to kiss someone?" you asked curiously, the two of you looking up at her ceiling as the girl beside you shrugged. "i've never kissed anyone, how would i know?" alessia sighed, a brief pause of silence falling between the two of you.

"have you?" "what? kissed someone?" "yeah."

"lessi do you think maybe i'd have told you if i kissed someone, idiot." you laughed, shoving her head to the side as she rolled her eyes and sat up. "everyone makes a big deal out of it. seems gross!" you pulled a face, not loving the idea of swapping spit with anyone.

"super gross. charlie looked like he was trying to do laundry in lilys mouth." alessia joked as you gave her a look of confusion. "you know, cause his tongue was like a washing machine-" she sat up and demonstrated, aggressively swirling her tongue around and licking the air like a dog making you let out a loud pelt of laughter.

"rory said the other day apparently people practice on their hands." you remembered the words of another one of yours and alessia's mutual school friends. "their hands?" alessia frowned deeply and you nodded.

"yeah they do this-" you made a fist. "-and then they like pretend this bits the mouth-" you pointed to the small hole on the side of your hand where your fingers didn't quite meet. "-and then they practice kissing with it." you shrugged.

"have you been doing that?" alessia grinned as your face blushed bright red, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. "no!" you pushed her over so she fell onto her back beside you again. "rory just showed me." you rolled your eyes as alessia hummed, still grinning.

"i haven't!" you protested, smacking her shoulder and now being the one to sit up. "you're the worst." you grumbled, flicking her ear as she whined and swatted your hand away. "then why are you with me all the time." alessia mocked.

"don't have any better options yet, i'm on the market for a new best friend." you shrugged, now the one to grin as the girl let out an offended scoff and launched at you, the two of you rolling around wrestling.

"girls!" you both paused, you teetering on top of alessia with your knees pressed into her stomach as she tightly held your balled fists in her hands, both your heads turning toward the door where an amused looking mario stood. "its nearly nine, go to bed or keep it down." he warned with a smile as you both nodded and he left with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

"first to get ready for bed wins, go!" alessia challenged, shooting up from her bed as you hastily followed, diving onto the floor and rummaging through your overnight bag, with a glance over your shoulder you saw you were losing and internally groaned.

however as alessia tried to jump into her pyjama shorts her clumsy nature betrayed her and she tripped over her own feet, crashing down onto the ground as you yelled time, having just finished.

"i win! loser." you stuck your tongue out at the blonde who huffed, pulling her shorts on properly and sitting beside you on the bed. "go on." alessia groaned, holding her arm out expectantly for the usual punishment from your bets.

"how do you do it again?" you frowned, attempting to give her a chinese burn but really only twisting her arm around without any success. "like this." alessia grabbed your arm and you yelled loudly in pain as she successfully gave you one, the blonde smacking a hand over your mouth as you both looked to the door, silent for a moment but breathing out once neither of her parents appeared.

"i didn't mean give me one!" you scowled, rubbing your arm with a huff. "don't be such a baby." alessia rolled her eyes, kissing your arm apologetically before getting up to turn the lights off.

"hey! you're supposed to get one, you lost." you protested, alessia only shrugging as she grabbed the remote for her tv. "you tried and failed, you're the loser now." the girl teased, ruffling your hair as she jumped into bed, both of you settling under the covers.

"i repeat; you're the worst." you sighed with a shake of your head, alessia only shooting you a grin and grabbing a half eaten block of chocolate off her side table, taking a piece before handing it over to you.

the two of you sat in silence as you finished the movie you'd paused earlier, the princess diaries. to your surprise alessia didn't fall asleep, her eyes normally slipping shut as soon as the lights were off after she'd played a full ninety minute game earlier today, but the blonde seemed just as awake as you were for once as the end credits rolled and she flicked off the tv.

"do you ever think about kissing someone?" alessia asked, the two of you laying in the dark, the only sound filling the room the faint gunshots from the other end of the hallway where her brothers were playing xbox in their own room.

"not a lot but sometimes i guess." you shrugged, not really sure how to answer. "would you kiss someone?" the girl asked again, uncertainty present in her voice. "i think i'd be scared i'd be really bad at it." you confessed honestly with a small sigh, your best friend agreeing.

"we could kiss, tell each other if we're bad or not." alessia suggested as you both sat up, backs resting against the headboard. "that's weird. don't you save your first kiss for a boyfriend?" you replied hesitantly as alessia again shrugged.

"it's not like it will mean anything. just to test it out for when we do it for real!" alessia added on as you thought it over. "okay. but no washing machines!" you stated firmly as alessia grinned. "no washing machines." the blonde held out her pinky, the two of you linking them with a nod.

"ready?" alessia asked as the two of you shifted to face each other and you nodded, leaning in a little. "go." you ordered, the two of you quickly pecking lips. "how was it?" you asked with a frown. "fine i guess?" alessia also frowned, both of you unsure what a kiss was actually supposed to feel like.

you stared at one another for a minute before bursting into laughter, sliding down into the bed and grabbing onto one another, bodys heaving as your eyes squeezed closed and you were both gasping for air, clutching your stomachs which began to hurt.

"girls!" the door suddenly flew open and light flooded the room, your hand moving over alessias mouth as you gave carol a guilty smile. "it's eleven thirty. go to bed, now!" the woman warned as you apologized, elbowing a still laughing alessia as carol gave you both a stern look and closed the door.

you both settled for a minute, laughs turning into quiet giggles. "well at least we aren't washing machines." alessia commented into the darkness, setting the both of you off again as you covered one anothers mouths, desperately trying to muffle the sounds of your amusement.

"girls!"

thirteen years old; the first boyfriend

"hey! how did it go?" you quickly shot to your feet, raising an eyebrow as your best friend wandered over, playing with the straps of her book bag.

"they said yes, but i just have to keep up with the work while i'm away and if i'm struggling to stay up to date i have to get a tutor. if my grades drop more then i'll have to miss out, they've agreed to a couple of months trial." alessia explained as you squealed, pulling her into a tight hug.

"this is amazing! my best friend, future lioness." you smiled proudly as alessias arm slung over your shoulder, the two of you making your way out of the office and back onto the school grounds to enjoy what was left of your lunch.

"i wish you played football! then you could come with me." alessia huffed in annoyance as the two of you sat down in your normal spot with twenty minutes left until the bell.

"you've seen me play football lessi." you shook your head as you grabbed out your lunch, rolling your eyes and giving half to alessia who'd eaten most of hers already at your morning break.

"yeah, maybe i could have them trade you to another team? like a really really bad woman on the inside, i'll even get them to make you goal keeper!" alessia teased as she bit down on her half of your sandwich.

"pass on that one. but your first national camp, it'll be so fun! you'll probably meet a load more girls who actually like football." you spoke a little quieter, moving your eyes to stare off into the distance which alessia didn't miss.

"hey, you're my best friend. no one can ever replace that! who else lets me kick footballs at their head and shares their lunch, i'd starve if we weren't friends." alessia grinned, shoving your head to the side playfully.

"so you keep me around for target practice and free food? great. thanks a lot less!" you rolled your eyes moodily. "that's not all you're good for. with your stimulating conversation, good looks and your enormous brain!" alessia knocked teasingly on your forehead as you smacked her hand away.

"speaking of. did you study for our math test?" you questioned sternly, having been on her back all week about it much to her disdain. "yes! sort of." alessia smiled sheepishly as you sighed deeply, used to this kind of response from the blonde.

"sort of?" "yeah, see."

with that the girl lifted up the edge of her uniform skirt, your eyes widening seeing several equations scribbled on her leg in marker. "alessia! cheating?" you hissed as the girl dropped her skirt with a shrug.

"it's not cheating, i'm just giving myself a little helping hand." alessia justified with a grin. "hey! isn't that oliver?" her smile dropped as she nodded over your shoulder with a frown. "uh yeah, why?" you glanced at the boy and back to her.

"isn't he your boyfriend? and he's over there snogging grace!" alessia scoffed in disbelief. "not anymore. he had mason come and give me a note breaking up with me this morning." you announced with a shrug, not seeming all that phased as your best friend looked at you with wide eyes.

"he did what? i'm gonna go break his arm, i told you not to go out with him!" alessia fumed standing to her feet as you hurried to tug her back down with a shake of your head.

"no you won't. we only went out for like two weeks less and we only spoke about five times, he's actually really awkward." you laughed, rubbing her shoulder in appreciation of her protectiveness.

"plus, he was not a good kisser." "washing machine?" "washing machine on a rinse cycle!"

fifteen years old; the first confession

"so there's a party tonight." alessia announced with a suggestive smile, flopping down on your bed as you hummed, head buried in your textbook. "i said, there's a party tonight." alessia repeated, yanking your book out of your hands and tossing it on the floor, her head instead coming to rest in your lap.

"and?" you huffed, smacking her forehead lightly for the mistreatment of your textbook. "and, we should go!" alessia grinned up at you, wiggling her eyebrows. "don't you have an early game tomorrow?" you sighed, playing with her hair like you knew she liked as she shrugged.

"so? we don't have to stay late but it would be fun. come on book worm, your textbooks will be okay left alone for one night!" alessia pinched at your cheeks with a mocking pout, squishing them together.

"are you asking me, or telling me?" "both? i told rory and emily to meet us here at seven." "alessia!"

it was a several hours later and you had to admit you actually weren't having a terrible time. well, you weren't at first. "no way you cheated!" you shoved rory who doubled your score at pinball, the two of you taking turns.

given that the host of this party was easily the richest boy in your grade there were all sorts of fun things to play around with. you'd not seen alessia in about an hour but you weren't too worried, the girl much more so the social butterly than you, you had no doubt she would be around mingling. you however were content so long as you had at least one of your friends by your side throughout the night.

oh how wrong you'd been to leave her on her own.

"hey y/n!" you looked up with a smile as you beat rory again, the girl punching you in the arm as another one of your friends amelia appeared. "um, it's alessia." the girl played nervously with her hands as you raised an eyebrow.

"what's alessia?" you questioned, gesturing for her to continue. "she's sort of...well, just come with me!" the girl grabbed your hand and dragged you off as you grabbed rorys, the redhead trailing after you as amelia lead the two of you upstairs.

"some of the boys brought vodka and they offered us some and well..." amelia winced, opening the bathroom door to reveal your best friend slumped over in the bath tub, emily crouched down by her side.

"she's drunk?" you asked in disbelief, the three of you shuffling into the bathroom and closing the door. "oh my best friend is here! hello you." alessia slurred, perking up happily at the sight of you as her head lolled to one side.

"how much did she drink? lessi how much did you drink?" you squatted down beside emily, grabbing the blondes hand who shrugged as her head thumped back down into the bath tub.

"dunno, few sips." the older girl shrugged as she closed her eyes. "why would you let her drink! why would you drink?" you shoved emily who looked down guiltily, rory sending you a pointed look and rubbing the brunettes back.

"sorry em. can she walk?" you apologized softly. "kind of?" emily winced as you stood, grabbing alessia's hands and trying to pull her up, the girl instead pulling you down as you landed half on top of her in the empty bath, head smacking back into the tiled wall.

"oh fuck!" you hissed sharply, clutching your throbbing head and squeezing your eyes closed. "oh god i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry." alessias eyes widened as she slurred through multiple apologies and your head began to pound.

"shit are you okay? how many fingers am i holding up? can you see one of me or two? do you feel tired? sleepy? you can't sleep if you have a concussion, wake up!" rory shoved her hand in your face. "three fingers rory, and i'm not concussed jesus!" you pushed her digits away from you with a huff.

"my mum is supposed to pick us up in an hour and if she finds her like this we're both dead." you groaned, smacking away alessia's hands which tried to cradle your sore head, still slurring apologies. "your sister, brother?" emily suggested as you shook your head, the girl in question having just lost her license for a few months for speeding, your brother still on his learners permit.

"what about alessia's brothers? god they're fit." rory suggested with a lovesick sigh, emily smacking her on the leg with a warning glare. "worth a try." you sighed, your friends helping you to your feet as rory stepped out, returning with a bottle of water as they coaxed alessia up into a sitting position, having her take small sips as you called gio first.

"short stack. to what do i owe this phone call interrupting my friday night?" the boy sighed as if annoyed but you knew he was only messing about with you, hurriedly rambling out what had happened.

"hey hey slow down. she's conscious right? she can breathe? speak?" the boy tried to calm you as you confirmed the above. "then it'll be okay. just make sure she's drinking some water and isn't left on her back in case she throws up, she could choke. text me where you are and i'll be there soon." the boy promised as you let out a sigh of relief.

"thank you."

"oh wow." the middle russo's eyes widened as it took all three of you to balance the tall blonde between you, who was really not able to walk. "come on less." gio grunted, taking her into his own arms and helping her into the car, buckling her in as she mumbled all sorts of gibberish.

"do you two need a lift home?" gio asked rory and emily who shook their heads, explaining rorys mum was already on her way to get them. you hugged them both goodbye and thanked them for their help before getting into the back next to alessia who'd already passed out.

you winced as her head slumped down onto your shoulder, the girls breath reaking of vodka and vomit as no sooner had the three of you helped her up had she released the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

"did you drink too?" gio asked somewhat firmly, giving you a stern look through the rear view mirror as you shook your head. "no i promise. i didn't even know there'd be alcohol there, and if i had i wouldn't have let less drink. i shouldn't have left her by herself!" you sighed, sparing a glance to the drunken girl beside her.

"hey what she does isn't your responsibility, you can't fix everything for her for the rest of her life. but she's lucky she's got you, even if she is a bit of an asshole to you sometimes." gio cracked a smile which you returned.

"i think the gentle bullying is just her way of showing love. you've seen how she gets when anyone else tries." you chuckled as alessia stirred, crossing her arms and sighing, still continuing to sleep on your shoulder. "mm it's very much so she can pick on you but no one else can." gio laughed quietly as he pulled into their driveway.

"are your parents still up?" you bit your lip nervously as the boy sent you a smile which said it all. "wait here a second." he slipped out of the car and headed inside. "hey lessi." nudging your shoulder up and down as the blonde let out a quiet groan.

"time to wake up, we're at your house." you encouraged softly, shaking her lightly as her bright blue eyes fluttered open. "how'd we get here?" she slurred tiredly, eyes slipping closed again as you sighed.

gio returned with luca in tow as you unbuckled her, again shaking her and helping her to sit up as she rubbed her eyes with an incoherent mumble. "oh lessi." luca sighed with a disappointed shake of his head as he and gio helped the girl out of the car, slinging her arms over their shoulders as she stumbled.

you shrunk as carol awaited your arrival in the doorway, tapping her foot and sighing as the four of you arrived. "hi mum!" the blonde slurred with a lopsided grin, head slumping back onto gio's chest. "take her to bed. i'll deal with her tomorrow!" the woman sighed tiredly, the boys nodding and doing as asked.

"you, come here." the woman beckoned as you hung back, nervously playing with your fingers. you followed her inside and to the kitchen, sitting down at the bench as she instructed, bouncing your knee nervously.

"tell me what happened, the truth." carol handed you a mug of tea as you sent her a small smile and took a sip. you sighed before filling her in on the whole night as best as you knew, unable to fill in the gaps where only alessia was present and responsible for her own actions.

"so you didn't drink?" carol asked firmly as you shook your head quickly. "nothing. i really didn't know anyone would have alcohol, i don't even know how they got it or how much she had." you admitted with a sigh, wishing you could rewind time and have kept a better eye out.

"come here." the woman opened her arms with a sigh as you hugged her, appreciating the warmth that always accompanied an embrace from any of the russo's. "you did the right thing calling someone but next time just call me or your mum, or even mario! i know he's lessi's favourite." the woman rolled her eyes as you cracked a small smile full well knowing your best friend was indeed the epitome of a daddys girl.

"are you gonna call my mum and dad?" you asked nervously, hands twisting around the now empty mug as carol nodded. "tomorrow yes. not tonight, go and get some sleep love." the woman nodded for you to head upstairs as she took your empty mug.

"are you angry with less?" you questioned, hovering in the doorway as carol sighed. "i'm more disappointed in both of you than angry. but she'll get her own talking to tomorrow, don't you worry about that! off you go." and with that you sighed, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of your stomach at the woman you considered a second mum being disappointed in you.

"hey, thank you for tonight." you hovered in gio's door once you'd headed upstairs, the boy giving you a hug and ruffling your hair before you headed across to alessia's room.

you had to blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the darkness, closing her door again and stumbling over toward her cupboard, huffing as you waded through the piles of clothes which littered her messy floor.

grabbing out some of her clothes you slipped into her bathroom, changing and brushing your teeth before flicking off the light and padding over to the bed. alessia was also changed and sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly ajar and blonde hair sprawled messily all over the pillows.

"move over less." you sighed, slipping into bed beside her and rolling her over with a grunt. the sudden change of her body had her stirring though as she groggily lifted her head, rubbing her eyes.

"where are we?" "your room lessi." "how the hell did we get here?" the girl slurred though it was much less now some time had passed since her last drink. "you're welcome. goodnight!" you turned onto your side facing away from her.

"go to sleep!" you kicked her as you felt her cold fingers tracing shapes on your back over your top. "no. i need to tell you something, turn over!" alessia demanded as you gave in with a sigh, rolling to face her and raising an eyebrow.

"you're gonna laugh at this, trust me." alessia giggled, clearly still a little drunk as she struggled to keep her head up and her eyes open. "go on then." you gestured for her to continue.

"well...i have a cruush." alessia sang out, poking your nose with a smile. "who?" you perked up, now much more interested in what she had to say. "you might know them." alessia smiled cryptically.

"who?" "you!" alessia revealed with a giggle, head slumping back onto her pillow as she sent you a drunken grin and poked your nose again.

"i think you're the best. you're also really fit and cute and ugh when i look at you sometimes i just wanna-" alessia made a grabbing motion with her hands, laying on her back now as you stayed perfectly still beside her, eyes wide and unable to move as your body tensed.

"-grab you and kiss you properly. take your breath away and make you love me like i love you. but you're my best friend and you like boys, so doesn't matter!" alessia gave you a lopsided smile, staring at you through half lidded eyes, the alcohol pumping through her blood stream like a truth serum.

"goodnight." she sighed suddenly, eyes closing properly as she settled, her breathing evening out within seconds as you remained frozen in spot, unsure how to even process what was just said.

it was safe to say you hardly slept a wink that night.

though if you were tired it was nothing compared to the disgustingly new feeling of alessia's first hangover.

you'd shot up awake as you heard her violently throwing up in the bathroom. a quick tap of your phone showed it wasn't even seven in the morning yet, barely twenty past six.

feet hitting the floor you left her room, padding quietly downstairs. grabbing some water and paracetamol and heading back to her, knowing where everything was as if you lived here.

you gave her a sympathetic smile as you entered the bathroom to see her slumped in the corner, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth and fingers massaging her temples. "here." you offered her the water and pain killers which she took with an almost inaudible thank you.

last nights confession was fresh in your mind as you helped the taller girl to her feet and back to bed. "what the fuck happened last night?" alessia croaked out, burying her head in her pillows as you lay back down beside her and filled her in, conveniently leaving out her little eleven pm confession.

"jesus christ i thought it would just be a few sips, i'm such an idiot. my parents are going to kill me!" alessia moaned into the pillow. "your mum said last night she wasn't angry, just disappointed." you revealed as she rolled onto her back. "really? thank god." alessia sighed in relief now causing you to frown.

"you're happy about that?" "well yeah? she isn't angry, that's a relief." "she's dissapointed alessia that's worse!" "lower the volume please, and don't call me alessia you never call me by my full name it's weird."

fast forward and you never brought up her confession, unsure how to go about it at all, or how you felt about any of it. alessia however also clearly didn't remember it, not mentioning it much as you'd provided opportunities.

instead the blonde chose to focus on the pounding pain in her head as her parents forced her to still play her match that day, and it was safe to assume she more than learned her lesson about pairing football and a hangover.

you'd just assumed it had been a moment of drunken stupidity, her words holding no truth or meaning, deciding to push her confession deep deep down and do your best to move on as if you'd never heard it.

four months later; the first move

"are you nervous?" you asked, fingers expertly working their way through alessia's freshly dyed blonde locks, tugging and pulling with soft apologies as you braided her hair.

"no. i don't really get nervous about football, it's just another game. the girls are all lovely and training's been going well, i think we can win." alessia answered confidently, sat on the floor between your legs as you finished the braids, tapping her shoulders.

"these look wicked!" alessia grinned as she hurried to the bathroom, checking herself out in the mirror. "wicked?" you laughed, moving to cross your legs on the hotel bed with a raised eyebrow. "i think i've been hanging around tooney and stanway too much, they say it heaps." alessia rolled her eyes playfully.

"you should get back to your room, you'll be called down to warm up soon." you reminded as you checked the time. "shit i didn't realize it was after nine! thank you, saving my ass as always." alessia sighed, opening her arms as you stood to hug her.

"thank you for coming." the blonde whispered, you having accompanied her parents and brother to her first qualifying game with the under 17's lionesses team for the junior world cup, something you'd have not missed for the world.

"i won't have a clue whats happening but i'll be cheering for you." you grinned as she pulled away, rolling her eyes and kissing your cheek as she grabbed her stuff and slipped out of the room.

the kiss was nothing unusual, you'd both always been affectionate with one another, however ever since the drunken confession each little intimacy lead you down a windy and steep path of overthinking every little thing.

"-so why is she getting to just kick it?" you asked mario with a confused frown as one of alessia's team mates had earned a free kick.

"well you saw how number four was pushed to the ground?" the man moved closer as you nodded. "well she was tackled dangerously, something called studs up." he continued as you hummed.

"know how lessi's boots have all the little bumps on the bottom? those are studs, and when you tackle someone studs up it's illegal because it can lead to serious injuries. which is why she got a yellow card after, which is like a form of penalty. if you get two yellow cards that means you get a red card and you have to leave the pitch right away." mario explained as you let out a small ohh and nodded again.

"i just love our little football chats." the man chuckled, pulling you into his side in a warm hug. "sorry! less has been trying to teach me forever but it just goes in one ear and out the other." you apologized as he waved you off, gio and luca returning and handing you a hot chocolate as you smiled gratefully.

the girls came away with a 3-2 win and you couldn't be prouder of your best friend who bagged an assist and a goal of her own, being sure to point up at you and her family as she did before celebrating with her own team.

"hey a few of us are gonna have a big team sleepover in ellie and anna's room. you're gonna come right?" georgia asked alessia hopefully as she packed up her kit bag in the locker room. "she probably wants to spend some time with her girlfriend stanway leave her be!" ellie grinned as alessia frowned.

"she's not my girlfriend. she's my best friend, we've known each other since we were like five we're just really close." alessia corrected quickly, the smile dropping from her team mates faces.

"sorry! we just, well we assumed. sorry." ellie apologised as alessia nodded, sending them all a smile and promising to join them for a team breakfast tomorrow, leaving the change rooms with a weird feeling in her stomach.

"here she is, the next top striker of england!" gio cupped his hands over his mouth and announced loudly as alessia finally joined you all, having been kept busy with her team and the debrief and celebrations for around an hour or so.

she made her way around, hugging her family before stopping in front of you. "i am so proud of you! that goal was something else." you beamed, trying to hug her as she side stepped you, sending you a grateful smile and nodding for the two of you to catch up with her parents who were going to drive you all back to the hotel.

you brushed it off to her being tired, the car ride home filled with a lot of football talk you only pretended to understand, humming every now and then as your attention remained on the view outside, watching the world zip by quickly in blurs of green, grey, brown and blue.

though you were so fixated on the world outside that you entirely missed the pining looks constantly sent your way by your best friend beside you, who couldn't help but admire your side profile.

a soft smile settling on her lips as she watched your dimples appear and your nose scrunch every time you'd smile at something, the blonde finding both things absolutely adorable.

it was safe to say by the time you'd gotten back to the hotel and changed, then sat through a long dinner with her parents, then gone out for ice cream, alessia was shattered.

having been sharing a hotel room with her brothers you now had the room to yourself as they'd headed back a night early having plans with friends back home. so alessia opted out of her sleepover invite, ditching her team mates in favour of spending the night with you.

"god i think i'm gonna be ill." alessia moaned as she clutched her stomach, sinking into the soft mattress of one of the beds as you laughed. "i told you that second ice cream was a terrible idea and you'd make yourself sick. plus you ate your dinner, the starter and half of mine!" you shook your head, hands on your hips as you smiled down at her.

"i ran off a lot of energy today okay i was hungry! and you should know by now that i don't ever listen to a word you say so you should have found another way to stop me!" alessia groaned, her stomach gurgling.

"if you stink up the room as that all comes out the other end i'm sleeping in the hallway!" you warned, kicking her playfully and laying down beside her on the bed, both your legs dangling off the edge.

"please you love the smell of my farts, you've copped enough of them on your head over the years." alessia looked at you with a teasing grin as you gagged, shoving her away from you.

"urgh you're so gross sometimes. i can see why your mum says she basically had three boys!" you rolled your eyes mockingly. "please we're best friends we're supposed to share everything together, no matter what end it comes out of." alessia winked as you shook your head, gagging at her again.

"so i'll be sure to let your new team mates know you wet the bed till you were nine?" you grinned, knowing where to hit her to make it hurt as her jaw dropped. "that is such a lie! it was one time after we watched a scary film." alessia grumbled, sitting up and glaring down at you unappreciatively.

"but will they believe that? i don't think so, golden girl." you mocked as alessia's jaw dropped further and you barely had a second to roll away before she grabbed a pillow and tried to smack you with it.

"aren't footballers supposed to be coordinated?" you grabbed the other one, standing up on the bed with a challenging grin. "oh just you wait." alessia laughed as she stood up across from you, the two of you staring the other down, waiting someone to make the first move.

when she didn't make a move you lunged first, swinging the pillow with a war cry, collecting her right in the face as the two of you bounced around the bed like children half your age, smacking one another as your laughter filled the room.

you squealed as alessia suddenly tripped, grabbing onto you and practically tackling you down on the bed as she landed on top of you. the two of you couldn't contain your laughter as alessia laid her taller form down atop you, both your chests heaving and lungs burning with laughter until you eventually both began to settle.

as alessia sat up slightly she found her gaze pulled down to admire your flushed features. the way the corners of your mouth curled into a soft smile, the mischievous twinkle in your bright and alluring eyes, the curvature of your jaw and the way your ears stuck out a little from your head, something she constantly teased you for but actually found rather adorable.

now she was thinking about it there was a lot more about you alessia found so charmingly alluring it began to make her head spin. your eyes meeting hers as they shamelessly roamed your face, drinking in every single little detail, burning it into her mind so that if she never saw you again she would always be able to see you in her head.

catching the look in alessia's own face you pulled your head up slowly, the two of you staring each other down for a moment.

the older girls eyes couldn't help though to be drawn to your soft cherry pink lips, feeling the most overwhelming urge of curiosity wash over her at thinking of what they might feel like pressed to hers.

suddenly, but slowly, you both began to lean in as if compelled by some unknown force you were unable to stop.

then a pause, your faces so close that if alessia even just slightly turned her head, her nose would brush yours.

the blonde's eyes seemed to search your face as if silently asking permission of the younger girl beneath her, another pause passed before you nodded, both your hearts hammering so hard in your chests it felt like they could burst at any moment.

and just like that alessia leant in that little bit more, closing the final gap between the two of you as she finally captured your lips in her own.

butterflies exploded in their stomachs as the kiss grew longer and sweeter with every fleeting second that passed. alessia's breathe hitched slightly as she felt a warm hand slide into her own, you intertwining your fingers with hers as your other arm wrapped around her neck.

and in that very moment, everything felt right.

both of you eventually needed to pull away for air, alessia rolling off of you as you both lay in silence, hands still tightly intertwined in the small space that sat between you.

"go on a date with me?" alessia asked suddenly, cheeks bright red as she nervously awaited your answer, unable to hold back her true feelings toward you any longer.

"i'd love to lessi."

sixteen years old; the first date

alessia nervously drummed her fingers on her thighs as she spared a glance at you across the table from her, your eyes drawn down to the menu in front of you as the striker shakily exhaled.

"you alright?" you asked softly, sending her a smile as she quickly nodded, picking up the menu and covering her face which she was certain was bright red.

the action made you smile to yourself, this nervous, awkward and very clearly flustered side of alessia not one you'd really gotten much insight into over the years. instead you'd always been stuck with the cocky charmingly over confident blonde who seemed to all but disappear tonight.

the two of you were out for dinner, for your first official date since the kiss just a week and a half ago. since then you'd celebrated your sixteenth birthday, finally again the same age as your best friend, the two of you celebrating with your families.

things had been a little different since the kiss, you both danced around your feelings and interactions as if they were all suddenly new again, trying your best to navigate the obvious shift in your relationship with one another.

though aware that it was her who asked you on a date alessia had spent far too long overthinking what to do, eventually deciding the two of you should just get dinner at paradiso's.

the restaurant was frequented by your families often enough that it wouldn't raise any alarm bells the two of you going together, you both establishing on that same night as the kiss that you wanted to keep this between the two of you for the time being.

"are we ready to order girls?" john, the server who'd known you both since you were kids came over with a kind smile, alessia looking at you who nodded. the two of you made your orders and john disappeared to get them started.

"so, how was training?" you asked with a polite smile, having been trying all night to get the conversation flowing but each time something seemed to halter it, things fizzling out as soon as they started.

"yeah good, fine. the usual." alessia nodded, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants which didn't go unnoticed, none of her out of character behaviours did.

"lessi, hey." you called out softly, gaining her attention as you grabbed her hand under the table, squeezing it gently and interlocking your fingers. "why are you so nervous? it's just me." you whispered, the blonde nodding.

"i know, this just feels...so different." alessia sighed as you had to hum in agreement, things did feel a bit forced and awkward and you weren't really sure how to address it. a few moments of silence passed as you held on tightly to the strikers hand.

and then, everything suddenly clicked.

"can i say something?" you blurted out, gaining alessia's attention which had wandered to counting how many red tiles there were on the mosaic wall in the corner. "of course." alessia assured with a nod.

"i don't think this is going to work." you admitted quietly, alessia frowning and snatching back her hand. "no no sorry! gosh i could have worded that better." you blushed realising how it was coming across to her.

"not this-" you gestured between the two of you. "-this!" you instead gestured around the restaurant. "i think we know each other too well to do the whole conventional first date thing." you smiled as alessia visibly de-tensed, nodding firmly in agreement.

"do you want to just get the food to go? go back to mine and watch a movie?" you offered as alessia agreed, turning in her seat to gesture toward john.

within half an hour you were back at your family home, your dad having picked you both up, stealing a piece of pizza as his payment for the ride before leaving you both to it, your mum and siblings out for the evening.

once the two of you had eaten and decided on a movie you excused yourself to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes to change into and encouraging alessia do the same.

when you returned she'd donned one of your hoodie and a pair of her football shorts she'd found laying around which she'd left here before. "wondered where that went." the blonde laughed seeing you exit the bathroom in her shirt, which hung down just above your knees.

"you left it here, it becomes partially mine." you shrugged with a smile, causing the blonde to roll her eyes. "i'll keep that in mind." she teased as you sat back down next to her, clicking play.

it only took a few minutes before alessia's hand found yours, intertwining your fingers with a shy smile as you kissed her cheek. another twenty or so minutes passed then alessia started to move around a bit, seemingly restless.

"you alright?" you asked, glancing to her as she stopped. "would you maybe want to..." she gestured between her legs as now you smiled shyly, nodding. the two of you moving around a little you found your back resting against her front, caged in by her long tanned legs either side of your body.

"is this okay?" alessia asked quietly, snaking her arms around your stomach and resting her chin on your shoulder. "it's perfect." you promised with a soft smile, settling into her hold, your hands coming to rest on top of hers.

"you know..." you spoke up around a half hour later, growing quite bored of the movie you'd both picked. "mm?" alessia hummed as you turned to look up at her. "if this is like a date, we could maybe kiss a little." you suggested hesitantly, unsure if you were going a little too fast.

"yeah?" alessia asked, features filling with surprise as you nodded. "if you wanted to." you corrected, cheeks blushing slightly making the taller girl smile. "i do." she promised, squeezing your hands and leaning down a little.

"may i kiss you please?" she asked gently, breath ghosting your lips as her eyes roamed your face for any signs of discomfort, coming up empty as you nodded.

"yes you may."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part eight

#alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #alessia russo

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shixcherie · 15 days ago

Text

Who’s The Boss, Babe ? | Jeong Yunho,Choi San,Jung Wooyoung ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 27 : Power Play

↬ [ Synopsis ] : In the boardroom, you are the BOSS fighting to secure the best deals for your beloved idols. But behind closed doors, in the comfort of your bed when your three dashingly handsome and irresistibly sexy lovers San, Yunho, and Wooyoung shower you with all their love. Then, the tables turn. They become the BOSSES, and you’re their BABE.

☆Word Count : 3.7k ☆Genre : Smut, Idol Au ☆Pairing : Idol! YunWooSan x Brand Manager! F.Reader

☆☆☆ WARNINGS : Pure smut (18+), formal company setting, heated arguments with authorities, praise, suggestive, power play kink, reader is at manager position in KQ, making out (in the meeting room), unprotected sex (be safe lil bunnies), foursome, edging, overstimulation, safe word, mild choking, fingering (fem recieving), dom/sub undertones, oral (both recieving), breast play, nipple play, pet names, slight degradation.

NOTE : Yes… I’m going to continue and complete Kinktober, even though we’re past the 31st. I really want to finish this challenge and not leave it incomplete, so I hope you all enjoy the story, ma chéries!

Your journey in marketing had begun with these San, wooyoung adn Yunho by your side and as your responsibility, before you climbed the ranks to become Ateez’s brand manager now representing the entire group.

If hiding secrets and carrying out sneaky acts was a game, you four were the masters, the top scorers on the scoreboard and the MVPs of the game.

Today was no different as you prepped yourself for an important meeting on which Ateez’s this comebacks sponsorship deals depended.

The meeting room was tense, filled with the rustling of papers and muted conversations as sponsors from various brands settled into their seats. As ATEEZ's brand manager, you had one goal today - secure the best deals possible for the group. Seated at the head of the table, you exuded calm authority, watching the faces of the sponsors gathered to discuss their partnerships with ATEEZ. Representing KQ Entertainment and the group, who observed quietly across the table, you were ready to protect their interests.

You exchanged a knowing glance with Hongjoong, ATEEZ’s leader, who gave you a reassuring nod, his expression silently conveying his trust in you to do your best for them. Seonghwa and Mingi, seated to his right, were calm, soft smiles on their faces, while Yeosang’s gaze drifted to the window, as if in his own world. Across from them, Jongho’s fingers turned the pages of the deal summaries in front of him, fully focused.

And then, finally, your eyes landed on the three little but somehow big at the same time devils — Yunho, Wooyoung, and San. All three wore confident smiles, but you could easily see the flickers of hidden desire beneath their innocent expressions. Yunho’s intense gaze lingered on you with a smirk, Wooyoung winked, offering a playful grin, and San gave a tiny thumbs-up, all gracefully hidden from the watchful eyes of the other meeting attendees.

As the clock struck 11:00 a.m., you took a steadying breath, ready to kick off the meeting. An executive from a high-profile tech company leaned forward, confidence in his posture and a slightly dismissive air in his tone. “We’re proposing a multi-platform campaign for six months, but naturally, the investment would need to be balanced with additional content requirements. We’d need access to their tour schedules, exclusive interviews, and regular social media engagement.”

You didn’t let his patronizing tone faze you. Instead, you replied with clear authority, “Your interest is noted, but ATEEZ’s social reach and engagement already deliver more value than most of your current brand ambassadors. If we’re extending access to exclusive content, the investment needs to reflect that value.” Your gaze was steady, voice unwavering. “The current proposal doesn’t align with the brand’s worth or the level of exposure you’re asking for.”

The executive raised an eyebrow, clearly not used to being pushed back on in negotiations. “With all due respect, we’ve worked with similar acts at the same price point,” he responded, his tone challenging.

Leaning forward slightly, you replied with a cool but assertive tone. “Then you’d know that ATEEZ isn’t a ‘similar act.’ They’re rising globally, setting records, and have a devoted fan base that’s growing by the day. The right deal here benefits both your brand and ours, and I won’t settle for anything less than a fair agreement.”

San, sitting across from you, concealed a small smile behind his hand, clearly entertained by your handling of the situation. Wooyoung exchanged a look with Yunho, admiration glinting in his eyes. They knew you were fighting for them, working to secure a partnership that valued them for who they truly were.

“Did she just say ‘won’t settle for anything less than a fair agreement’?” Wooyoung leaned over to Yunho with a smirk, feigning awe. “I think that’s the classiest way anyone’s ever told a sponsor to pay up or walk out.” He shot you a wink when your eyes briefly flicked his way, then leaned back as if he’d said nothing at all.

Yunho, seated next to him, chuckled under his breath, casting you an admiring glance as he whispered, “She’s really in her zone today. Almost scary how cool she is.” He nudged Wooyoung with a grin, shaking his head. “Guess we know why they call her ‘the ice queen of negotiations.’”

San joined in, his tone playful yet respectful. “It’s not just the sponsors who have high standards, you know,” he murmured, his gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Wooyoung and Yunho. “She’s setting the bar for all of us. Makes me want to up my game just listening to her.”

Pretending not to notice their comments, you kept your focus on the sponsor conversation, yet their support echoed in your mind. Each subtle remark strengthened your resolve, reinforcing that they trusted you completely to handle the situation with poise and confidence.

The executive across the table looked taken aback but didn’t press further. Another sponsor took the opportunity to chime in, softening the conversation. “We absolutely see the potential here and understand the importance of aligning on fair terms. Perhaps we can look at additional options for exposure ? A dedicated photo shoot or a feature at one of our flagship events?”

You nodded, acknowledging the shift in tone. “That’s a step in the right direction, but I’d need a clearer outline of the expected deliverables and a budget adjustment to match,” you replied, your voice firm yet with a touch of negotiation. “We’re open to expanding opportunities, but it needs to reflect ATEEZ’s current standing and future potential.”

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Wooyoung giving you an approving nod, his lips curving into that characteristic smirk, silently applauding your persistence. Yunho’s gaze lingered as well, respectful yet subtly challenging, as though he was testing just how far you’d go to secure the deal they all wanted.

Leaning over to his friends once again, Wooyoung added in a low, playful tone, “I’m convinced she could get the CEO himself to sign on without even breaking a sweat,” earning a laugh from San and Yunho.

But as the meeting wore on, you couldn’t shake the subtle intensity in the room. Each time you made a point, your eyes would meet one of the boys’, and there’d be a flicker of something unspoken, a quiet admiration mixed with a tension simmering just beneath the surface. You were their representative, yes, but there was an understanding between you that extended beyond the business formalities of the room.

As everyone left the meeting room, Wooyoung, San and Yunho stayed back as you have asked them to fill in them with a few of their solo shoots and works for the comeback.

With the last person leaving the meeting room, the door clicked shut, leaving only the four of you in the silence. The air was thick, charged with something unspoken. Holding onto your notebook, you felt their gazes—intense and unwavering, zeroed in on you. Wooyoung, San, and Yunho were watching you, and the usual professionalism had melted away, replaced by lust.

“Come here,” you breathed, motioning for them to gather closer. They moved in, but as you began to discuss the final points about the comeback, you felt their attention slipping from business to something more personal. Yunho, close enough to feel his heat, leaned in, his dark eyes admiring your face. “You were incredible back there,” he murmured, his voice low, a smirk curling at his lips as his gaze dropped to your mouth.

San stepped forward with a mischevious grin. “Yeah, you really put them in their place,” he murmured, leaning in until there was no space between you. “But now, it’s our turn, isn’t it ?”

Wooyoung’s soft laugh sent a thrill through you. He leaned close, his breath warm against your ear. “The ice queen of negotiations,” he teased. “Let’s see how long the ice takes to melt.” His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your jawline in a slow, purposeful stroke, sending electricity down your spine.

San’s lips grazed your ear, his fingers tracing the curve of your shoulder. The touch alone made your legs weak, sending shivers down your spine as you held onto him for support.

Yunho’s fingers slid down your arm, intertwining with yours, his intense gaze holding yours as he tilted your chin up. His breath was hot on your skin, his lips brushing against yours before trailing slowly along your jaw, igniting a spark deep within you.

Wooyoung’s hands found your waist, pulling you to him, his mouth claiming yours in a slow, deep kiss that left you breathless. San’s hands were there too, holding you as his lips brushed your skin. “Guess we’re the bosses now, aren’t we babe ?” he murmured, his voice both challenge and a sweet declaration.

Surrounded by them, every touch, every look, every kiss pulled you deeper. The intensity was dizzying and consuming. Just as you were about to surrender, breaking every office relationships policy, the ring of your phone shattered the moment. You answered the call, barely processing the voice on the other end, your mind still clouded by the steamy kiss. Gathering your things, you glanced back, meeting their eyes still dark, intense and wanting.

You leaned close, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks, your voice soft with promise. “Come to my place tonight,” you whispered, your eyes flicking between them. “You’re mine tonight.” Then, with a final look, you turned and left, leaving the anticipation hanging in the air.

As promised, San, Wooyoung and Yunho were at your house in the evening as you all planned to relax in your living room watching a movie. You were perched up the coach with your head resting on Yunho’s shoulder who was on your right while San rested his head on your left shoulder. Wooyoung made himself comfortable on the floor while his head rested back on your thighs.

The horror movie was at its climax, you and Yunho’s gazes refused to leave the tv screen while you could hear San making scared noises while covering his eyes whenever a jumpscare happened but still his curiousity peeked and he would sneak small glances while Wooyoung fully hugged you leg, refusing to watch the movie anymore but also asking you if the scary scene was over or not. It was endearing and funny at the same time as the boys clung on to you.

“Scrady cats” Yunho muttered as you chuckled nuzzling deeper into Yunho neck as the movie for you wasn’t even that scary and at this point you were feeling more bored.

“Wanna do something more interesting babe ?” Yunho asked, his voice was low but loud enough to reach your ears, as you jolted up to meet his gaze. His playful puppy eyes and sweet smile heightened up your excitement as you call for Woo and San.

“Guys, still wanna watch the movie, or should we…” You barely finished the sentence before Wooyoung quickly turned off the TV, meeting your gaze with a glint of mischief. He shifted on the floor, fully facing you, and smirked, “The movie was boring anyway. I’d rather finish you than finish it.” His words drew chuckles from all of you as he gently rubbed your thighs, his warm touch sending a thrill through you. Meanwhile, San left delicate kisses on your shoulder, adding to the tingling sensation dancing across your skin.

Your tiny tank top and mini shorts provided them more than enough to touch, admire, and savor. Yunho slowly turned you toward him, his large hand holding the back of your head as he pulled you closer. His lips captured yours, while Wooyoung settled between your legs and San held your waist, bringing you even closer. Sandwiched between Yunho and San, you felt Wooyoung’s sneaky hands slide down to remove your shorts, his fingers working with surprising deftness.

“Remember, kitten, whenever it gets too much, use our safe word,” San murmured into your ear, his breath warm as you hummed in acknowledgment, all while sharing a deep kiss with Yunho. San’s mouth latched onto your shoulder, his lips caressing the butterfly tattoo on your back. His hands roamed up your sides, his gentle rubs slowly inching your tank top higher and higher.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung’s mouth left soft kisses on your thighs, his hands caressing your legs as he worked his way up, inching closer to where you ached for attention the most, already dripped wet with arousal.

Yunho deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth and sucking on your toongue, and you let out a soft moan that gradually turned louder as Wooyoung and San each focused on your most sensitive spots in unison.

Wooyoung’s mouth took you by surprise, his lips and tongue tasting you, indulging with eager slurps. “Mmm,” he murmured against you, seemingly satisfied with every lick he took of your wet core. San’s large hands found your breasts, and with your tank top discarded somewhere on the floor, he kneaded them with care, his fingers pinching and teasing your nipples until they perked, each touch sending pulses of pleasure through you.

Yunho bit your bottom lip, adding a sharp but delicious sting that made you gasp. Just then, Wooyoung slid one of his thick fingers inside you, the unexpected sensation causing you to gasp again. San’s movements on your breasts quickened, his skilled fingers squeezing and pinching, sending electric jolts down your spine.

Wooyoung added another finger, the stretch making you tense momentarily, but soon, it melted into something beautifully pleasurable as Yunho broke the kiss. He took in the sight of you, eyes half-closed, dazed with pleasure, and smiled as he rubbed your clit while Wooyoung continued to pump, his pace picking up, pushing you closer to release.

“Still holding up, kitten ?” San whispered in your ear. You nodded, and a loud moan escaped your lips as you felt yourself clench around Wooyoung’s fingers. The tension built rapidly, your body trembling on the edge of something big. With one last, perfectly timed pinch on your sensitive clit, you finally came undone, your release spilling over Wooyoung’s fingers as your body quivered. Wooyoung pulled his fingers out and, without missing a beat, slipped them into his mouth, tasting every bit of you like it was his favorite flavor.

A knowing glance passed between Wooyoung and Yunho, and they swapped positions with ease. Wooyoung moved to the couch while Yunho settled between your legs, his mouth eager to taste every last drop of you. His hungry lips latched onto you, licking and sucking, not letting a single trace escape. As you moaned, your voice filled the room, each sound encouraging them on. Wooyoung brought his fingers to San’s mouth, and San took them in, savoring your taste with a low hum that turned you on even more.

Your mind drifted back to the first time with all three of them. It had been overwhelming, so intense that you’d had to use the safe word, the overstimulation and all three of them at the same time was too much for your body to handle. Since then, it had happened twice more before your body finally adjusted to them. Their frequent visits had helped you get used to both the stretch and the intensity, the pain gradually shifting into pure pleasure each time. And now, it was all too easy to surrender completely to the sensations they gave you.

You were pulled out of your deep thoughts as San’s lifted you, holding you securely in his arms as he stood. Yunho was already settled comfortably on the couch, leaning back as his eyes turned dark filled with lust. Once Yunho was ready, San lowered you onto him, positioning you so that your back pressed against Yunho’s chest, bringing a rush of warmth from his steady breathing behind you. Wooyoung, meanwhile, stood near your head, his eyes shining with excitement. You tried to piece together their intentions, your pulse quickening as you wondered what new position they had in store for you this time.

The boys were full of surprises, each encounter introducing another thrilling variation. You remembered your first foursome with them, bodies pressed together under the steamy flow of the shower, where you first caught a glimpse of just how intense their fantasies could be. Now, each time you were with them, you were left guessing, an excitement that never tappered off.

As you settled, Yunho’s large hands wrapped around your throat from behind, his grip firm yet gentle, just enough to make you feel his presence without restricting your breath heightening the intensity of the dellicious moment. San’s hands found your waist, holding you in place, his fingers pressing into your skin as they grounded you. The three of them exchanged nods before finally meeting your gaze, a silent question in their eyes asking for your permission.

“Are you ready for us, babygirl?” Wooyoung’s voice was low and eager, each word laced with anticipation that sent a thrilling shiver down your spine. His gaze roamed over you, making your heart pound as you gave a playful nod. Without another word, San positioned himself at your wet core, pressing into you slowly, stretching you as he filled you completely. Yunho, right behind you, followed with his own hard length, pushing inside, making you gasp at the fullness of both of them, leaving your mind spinning.

San’s hands tightened on your waist, grounding you as he met your gaze, a spark passing between you before he started moving, each stroke deliberate and intense, reaching depths that made you shudder. Behind you, Yunho’s hands held you steady, mirroring San’s movements to create a steady, intoxicating rhythm that had you breathless with every second.

As San thrust forward, Yunho matched his pace, their synchronized rhythm sending waves of pleasure through you, filling you from both sides. Each movement was perfectly timed, their bodies working in unison, creating an overwhelming sensation that left you lost in the moment.

Wooyoung, standing near your head, leaned down and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You look incredible like this,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. He guided himself to your lips, filling your mouth slowly, letting you adjust to his taste and warmth as he moved in sync with San and Yunho’s rhythm.

Their thrusts were perfectly in sync, and your body responded helplessly, completely lost to the rhythm they’d created. San’s grip tightened on your waist, his pace quickening as he drove into you harder, leaving you gasping. Behind you, Yunho’s hands shifted to your hips, pulling you back to meet his deep, powerful thrusts, amplifying every sensation.

Wooyoung’s hand cradled your jaw, his thumb tracing over your cheek as he encouraged you to take him deeper. His satisfied groans reverberated through you, his hips matching the rhythm San and Yunho had set, heightening the intensity surrounding you from every side.

San’s hand slid down to your sensitive spot, his thumb moving in firm circles that sent shocks of pleasure through you. Your body reacted instantly, arching as a wave of pleasure washed over you. Yunho slowed for a brief moment, letting you catch your breath before resuming, each thrust more intense, pushing you closer to release.

“Just like that, keep going,” Wooyoung whispered, his hand shifting to the back of your head. His voice was soothing, a contrast to their increasingly urgent rhythm. His hips moved steadily, his heavy breaths syncing with the sounds escaping you. Together, the three of them created a rhythm that left you gasping, with no choice but to surrender.

With each thrust, the tension in your core grew tighter, the pleasure coiling to an almost unbearable peak. Finally, as San’s thumb pressed harder and Yunho’s grip tightened, the release overtook you. Heat rushed through you in waves, leaving you breathless and shaking as you came undone.

San groaned deeply, his pace slowing briefly as he felt you tighten around him. With a final shared glance, the three of them pulled out together, each one spilling over your stomach, warmth pooling across your skin as they let out satisfied, heavy breaths.

They steadied you in the aftermath, soft touches grounding you as they ran their hands along your skin. Wooyoung leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his smile gentle and content. You lay there, basking in the warmth of their presence, a shared moment of closeness and quiet satisfaction.

As the aftershocks pulsed through you, their touches softened, turning from intense to gentle, grounding you in the moment. Heavy breaths filled the room as their hands traced light patterns along your skin, enveloping you in warmth and closeness.

San brushed a hand through your hair, murmuring, “You did so well… perfect for us.” He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his touch warm and steady. Yunho’s hands squeezed your hips gently as he whispered, “You’re incredible, so beautiful.” His lips brushed your neck in soft kisses, his voice soothing and tender.

Wooyoung cradled your face, his gaze warm. “Amazing, babygirl,” he praised, while cleaning you off as you still recovered from the intense high.

Their words and touches surrounded you, filling the afterglow with soft praise and affection, a moment of perfect connection between you all.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

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takeariskao3 · 1 month ago

Note

they meet each other with different names and fuck in a hotel

sexy

He saw her as soon as he walked through the front door. The glittering lobby was reasonably busy with new arrivals, but she stood out like a beacon. A pillar of warmth and light that drew him in almost involuntarily.

Ignoring the short queue at the counter, he readjusted his hold on his duffel and went straight for the little lounge adjacent to the foyer. She leaned against the bar top with her back to him, her flaming hair spilling down her back and shining brighter than the ornate chandelier and the Italian sunset combined.

He dropped his bag next to a stool and sucked in a steadying breath.

His action was futile, however. As soon as she clocked his approach, she turned toward him and all the air in his lungs left in one jagged oophh.

A slow smile stretched across her face. There was something coy… yet… challenging about it. It made his insides twist in anticipation.

Before he could find a coherent sentence, much less utter a word, an overly attentive bartender stopped by to see if he wanted anything. He politely declined.

“You’re not staying?” she asked in disappointment.

“Need to check-in,” he explained, motioning to the front desk. “Line isn’t getting any shorter and… I’m supposed to be meeting someone…”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Lucky girl.”

The lingering eye contact had his blood buzzing with phantom electricity.

He made no move to exit.

“I have a room.” She spoke low, for his ears only. “If you need to freshen up?”

He blinked. “That’s awfully generous of you.”

She shrugged.

He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on the linen sundress draped around her waist. “You sure you aren’t meeting anyone?”

“He’s late,” she waved in dismissal. “Something about a black market deal and a runaway Chimera.”

“Unlucky for him.”

She hummed in agreement. “Shall we?”

She downed her flute of sparkling wine as he grabbed the strap of his bag. Leading him back through the lobby, she stopped in front of the lifts and jammed the call button.

“What’s it going to cost me?” he chuckled darkly, registering the slight flush creeping up from the neckline of her dress.

Her answering expression could only be described as igniting, and damn if he wasn’t willing and ready to be set fire.

“I’ll bet it’s nothing you’re not willing to give.”

They stepped into the lift, her pressing for the third floor and him doing everything in his power not to adjust the growing tightness in his trousers.

As soon as the doors slid closed, they collided. He couldn’t be sure who moved first, but within nanoseconds, he had one hand in her hair and the other squeezing her pert little bum. Meanwhile, her arms snaked around the back of his neck and pulled his face down to hers with such force, he couldn’t be sure if he’d ever stand straight-backed again.

Her mouth took up an intoxicating rhythm, her skin scorching everywhere she touched him. The scent of her, the taste of her, the feel of her, mottled his brain so throughly that he had less and less thought and feeling, and more and more instinct and compulsion.

Distantly, a soft ding! permeated his failing faculties, and he barely got a hand out to stop the doors from closing on the two of them again.

He kicked his bag out onto the landing at the same time she mumbled against his mouth, “Third on the left–”

How they made it down the hall without breaking their necks, he would never know, but they arrived the aforementioned door still in one (very tangled) piece.

She fumbled with the lock only a moment before it clicked and they fell into the room, nearly wrecking a side table. He only had a few seconds respite as he straightened the tea set before she hauled him across the room and shoved him onto the bed.

The next two minutes passed in a flurry of sensation. Clothes were discarded, love bites were given, hair was tugged… until finally–finally–he sank so deep into her that stars erupted in his vision.

“Christ, Ginny–” he gasped. “I missed you…”

She let out a raspy little moan. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Harry obliged.

#smutty wednesdays?#hinny #anon #answered

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errruvande · 4 months ago

Note

Haldir (as his beautiful face was everywhere) and wool.

(this is for the drabble!)

Emma, thank you for your participation 💖

This ended up being heavy on the ficlet side, then a drabble, but oh, what should I do 😅

It was a long few weeks of Haldir's absence. Being married to him for almost a millennium, you grew almost comfortable with your husband's frequent absence. After all, you knew who you were marrying, you knew exactly how little of him you'd get in your life, from his duty was to scout the borders of your beautiful home and, if needed, to lead the army of the elves of Lothlorien into battle, thought you've been brushing the last thought from your mind, for the horror would lie too heavy on your heart if it comes to that end.

In lack of Haldir by your side you found yourself a hobby to keep you busy, distracting your eager mind from the gloomy thoughts of your husband's wellbeing.

Once the market in Caras Galadhon was full of new items from both Lothlorien and the lands further south, such as golden fields of Rohan and distressed Gondor, you decided to buy some wool to weave yourself a warm cloak. Then, it was a challenge to reckon with. One day, when Haldir returned from his scouting, he rashed to your shared talan only to find you tangled in the yarn, the weaving wheel laying on it's side on the floor next to your whimpering figure.

Now, you were well known as a marvelous weaver, and have been making cloaks and gowns for all the elleths in Lorien.

You were sitting at the table in your talan, weaving yet another grey cloak, when you heard the door creaking, light steps becoming closer and closer to you.

“Meleth nîn!” You would recognize his scent, the way he breathes and walks with your eyes closed. You jumped from your seat to welcome Haldir, as he finally came home from another patrol.

“Y/N…” Haldir cupped your cheeks, bowing his head just slightly to touch your forehead with his, and slowly succumbed into a long desired kiss.

After every patrol you kissed him for the first time in your life, the kiss is so intimate and soft, it feels like a gentle breeze caressing your lips. You missed this. With every inch of your being.

Your hands were resting on his chest, softly brushing the thin material of his tunic, as he lowered one of his hands to take in your palm. “I've missed you terribly, meleth”

You felt so desperate, letting his lips part from yours when you only wanted them to linger and take all the air away from your lungs, that feeling alone made you whimper silently.

But that was the time, when Haldir took your hand in his and lifted it to look at your palm closely, your fingers shaking a little from the long days of weaving, little blisters shining on the their tips.

“You should take some time off, love.” he didn't hesitate to press your palm to his lips and kiss it softly, moving along each of your fingers, pecking them in tiny little kisses. “You should not work at a loss of your health.”

“I would gladly not work at all, my love,” you watched him grazing your hand with kisses, his clear blue eyes locked on yours. “but then I would be thinking about you without a rest, and that will cause more loss of my health than a slightly shaking fingers”

Haldir chuckled softly, bringing the second palm of yours to his face and kissing the tips of your fingers gently. He started walking on you, leading you away from the wool and the weaving wheel, so you could stop thinking about your work at least for a few minutes.

“Is that new?” He noticed a blanket spread on top of the big bed, blue with a deep green ornament on it. You nodded.

“Made it a few days ago” you glanced over the bed, tugging your palms out from Haldir's grip and placing them around his waist, that fitted so perfectly between your hands, and pressed yourself to his body.

“Shall we test if it is soft enough?” You saw his face lighted with a smile, a light chuckle leaving his mouth, as he made another step, pressing your calves to the bed.

“Meleth, I have work to be done…” Haldir could definitely hear a note of disappointment in your airy voice, as you sat on the bed, looking him in the eyes, hands still curled around his muscular waist.

“Your husband just returned from a month-long patrol.” He reached your face with his palm and grazed your cheek with his soft fingers carefully, sending a light shiver down your neck. “I think they will understand.”

You stretched one of your arms beside you, leaning to your back and watching Haldir bending over you to gift you a soft kiss on the neck. The woolen blanket feels soft and delicate under your touch, just as the kisses your husband showering your naked areas of skin with, forcing a little whine to exit your mouth.

“Perhaps they will”

Send me a word and a character: LOTR/TH, TLK or VIKINGS - and I will try and write a drabble or ficlet ✨

#haldir x reader #haldir x you #haldir #haldir imagine #haldir fic #haldir of lothlorien #lotr fic #lotr #the lord of the rings

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danosrosegarden · 4 months ago

Note

Hey ur my favorote Eddie Nashton fic writer, if you're taking requests at all would you write something about reader throwing him a birthday party? I imagine he didnt get many in the orphanage :( Supposedly 7/21 is his birthday!

sweet tooth - edward nashton x gn!reader

{contains: brief mentions of past trauma but mostly fluff/celebrating edward :-)}

Edward got up for work early, when the sky was still a dark, milky blue-black and the air was still chill and silent.

40 today. He would rather not think about it.

He was perfectly fine with you forgetting. He could count on one hand the amount of happy birthday letters he had received in his four decades. He was fine without a stupid cake or colorful candles or glittering balloons. He was a fully grown man, not a selfish little child. Who needs them.

But while you're still sleeping in bed and he's putting on his jacket, getting ready to head out the door, he sees something shining on the kitchen counter. He walks over and sees a card. Sweeping, cursive letters and a drawing of a cupcake decorate the front.

It's Your Day!

The counter is bejeweled with small, glittering pieces of rainbow confetti. He doesn't notice that his hands are trembling as he opens the card.

Happy birthday, sweetheart. I hope this year is the year you flourish like never before.

I can't wait to celebrate you when you get home.

His stomach is churning as he places the card back on the counter and it stays twisting and turning throughout his day at work.

Not a single happy birthday, Edward! Not a card or confetti decorating his desk.

But you. You remembered.

He scoffs a laugh as you practically tackle him in a hug when he walks through the door.

"I'm so glad you're home, darling."

It takes genuine strength to blink back his tears as you shove a gift in his arms. It's wrapped in glimmering green paper.

He thinks of the orphanage as he tears it. He thinks of the children he shared a room with. He wonders where they are. How they could've bloomed like neon flowers in the beating summer sun if only they had been given a chance.

You looked worried as he peers at the gift: a thick book of crosswords.

"It's kind of stupid, but I thought you'd like it. It's supposed to be harder than the New York Times. I know you love a challenge."

He shakes his head and says nothing as he envelops you in a quiet, warm hug. You can feel his smile against your cheek and suddenly, it all is worth it. The nightmares that keep you both up and make your stomach cave in worry. The times you have to run your fingers through his hair and pat his back as he dry heaves into the toilet. The days where the world is too loud for him and his voice is far too quiet to fight back...it all is worth it if it means he could blossom with you. It wasn't easy, but getting to be a part of him would always be worth it.

You think of him, him in his entirety. His high, trembling giggle as he stumbled his way through a dumb joke. His compassion and dedication, the times he'd pick up market flowers for you or write you long, handwritten letters just because. The truth of the matter was that despite everything he had weathered, Edward Nashton was sweet. He was kind to you. He was yours, and there was nothing you'd trade that for.

Edward did not look forward to his birthday. He hardly remembered it when it rolled around each year. But then there was you. God, he never could've imagined that this would be his life. A life where he's celebrated, not crumpled like a piece of ruined paper and thrown away. A life where he's thought of and cared for, not just another number.

He is loved. That's all he could've wished for.

#eli's writing #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #the riddler #the batman #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #edward nashton x y/n #the riddler x y/n

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inkmonster21 · 1 month ago

Text

A Cowboy’s Love

Hattie Mae Dutton is the youngest of the family whom Ryan, one of the wranglers on the ranch, has fallen for.

Yellowstone Ryan x OC!Dutton

This is part ONE

Series Masterlist

🤠

"I'm too old for this crap," John mutters, sitting on the edge of their bed. Evelyn shares his sentiment, her eyes reflecting exhaustion and frustration. She had just begun to feel like herself again after the challenges of Kacey, their already feisty son. But now, the news of the positive pregnancy test dangled in the air between them like a bitter reminder. Just as the dread began to transform into words, the door creaks open and Beth and Lee step in, their eyes instantly falling upon the test in Evelyn's hand. "Are you pregnant, mom?" Lee asks, a hopeful smile lighting up his face.

John and Evenly exchanged a knowing glance, both silently praying that fate would intervene this time. They had already gone through the challenges of having four children, and the thought of another child, especially a girl like Beth had wished, seemed almost too much to handle. But the positive test in Evelyn's hands confirmed their fears. With a resigned smile, Evelyn nods and says, "I hope it's a girl too, Beth."

Nine months later, Hattie Mae Dutton was born into the world, her entrance marked by a chorus of defiant cries, rivaling those of a bobcat unleashed from the depths of hell. Beth couldn't help but smirk as she heard her newborn sister's piercing cries, her voice filled with pride. "That's my fucking sister, right there," she declared with a chuckle.

Hattie barges into the house, her older brother Kacey in hot pursuit. "Give it back, you brat!" he yells at her. Hattie, her hand holding a knife, smirks at him defiantly. "Come and get it then! What, don't think you can beat up a girl?" Their father swiftly intervenes, pulling Kacey off of her. "What the hell are you thinking, son? She's 5 years old, for god's sake!"

John rolls his eyes at his son's antics. "For goodness' sake, Kacey. She doesn't know any better."

John scoops up his young daughter in his arms firmly, but with a hint of amusement. "Give it here," he tells her. Hattie, her expression somewhat chastened, hands the knife over to her father. "I just wanted to see it," she explains, a touch of defensiveness in her voice. John returns the knife to Kacey and steps out of the room, Hattie held securely in his arms. "You want to go for a ride?" he asks her, his tone gentler now, as he sees her eager nod.

Hattie Mae Dutton was the heart and soul of the Dutton family - the baby, the epitome of innocent charm, and the one who, it seemed, no one could ever say no to.

John sent her to study business marketing, a path John believed would perfectly position her to market The Yellowstone Dutton Ranch effectively. Lee was incredibly proud of his sister, openly supporting her every step of the way. Beth thought it was badass how Hattie had the knack to make the ranch lifestyle come alive on social media. Kacey, on the other hand, didn't give two shits about what his sister was doing, barely understanding the magnitude of her achievements. Jamie was the only one who seemed to view her entire existence as a joke.

Hattie chuckled, clicking a picture of the wranglers. "Everyone smile!" she exclaimed, her camera lens focused on the stoic figure of Rip. "Even you, Rip!" He shook his head, but reluctantly broke into a sly grin. Without wasting a moment, Hattie snapped the picture and quickly opened up her editing app to touch up the photo before uploading it to the Yellowstone Instagram page.

It was Ryan's first day on the ranch, and the moment he laid eyes on Hattie, he was instantly captivated. She hopped out of the truck, her slender figure carrying shopping bags as she returned home from university for the weekend. "Who is that?" Ryan asked Lloyd, the older gentleman standing nearby. Lloyd chuckled as he watched Ryan's gaze follow Hattie's every move. "Hattie Dutton," he replied. "Mr. Dutton's youngest girl." Ryan nodded silently, his eyes still fixated on her as she pulled out a dress and showed it to her sister. "Wow," Ryan exhaled quietly.

Hattie was stood on the porch, proudly displaying her new purchases when Beth drew her attention towards a field in the distance. A younger man was standing there, his gaze focused solely on Hattie. He smiled warmly, tipping his hat in greeting. "Oh, wow," Hattie murmured, leaning back against the porch railing and admiring the cowboy. Beth couldn't help but tease her younger sister. "Hattie, what would Vince think?" she taunted. Vince Dupond, Hattie's uptight boyfriend, was known for his jealousy and possessiveness. Was his reason rooted in her father's substantial bank account? Quite possibly.

It felt as if fate or a higher power was meticulously orchestrating every detail. Just as Vince's car pulled into the driveway, he barked, "I thought you'd be here an hour ago!" Hattie stood there, silently anticipating the storm. Beth, standing nearby, whispered into her ear, "Looks like you're in trouble." Later that evening, at Vince's apartment, Hattie's skin bore the evidence of the price she had paid for her "trouble." The marks upon her body remained unseen, a secret safely tucked away.

Months passed, and the cycle of Hattie seemingly stepping out of line only to face his wrath became a grim regularity. It wasn't until one eventful night that someone finally took notice. Sitting in Vince's truck, Hattie tried to stay silent, knowing it would be pointless to argue with him. But when he accused her of sleeping with the ranch hands, she protested. "No, I'm not!" she insisted, reaching for the handle to exit the vehicle. But Vince grabbed her wrist, pulling her back into her seat with a force that made her cry out in pain. He jabbed a finger in her face.

"I bet you fuck all of them. Huh? Is that what you do, you fucking slut?" Suddenly, the driver's door of the truck was violently yanked open, leaving Vince frozen in surprise.

Rip turned his gaze to Hattie, sensing something amiss. "Is there a problem, Hattie?" he asked, noticing how tightly Vince gripped her wrist. Vince shot back defiantly, "Mind your own fucking business, you redneck." He tried to pull the door shut, but Rip acted quickly, yanking him out of the vehicle and slamming him onto the gravel.

Rip turned his attention to Hattie, his eyes narrowing. "I'm only going to ask you once," he said. "Did he hurt you?" Hattie looked down at her wrist before nodding slightly in confirmation. Rip's gaze flicked back to Vince, a fierce look of anger in his eyes. "I knew you were a piece of shit," he spat, proceeding to pummel Vince into a bloody mess. He slammed Vince against the bunkhouse wall, shouting out, "Lloyd! Get out here!"

Rip forcefully held Vince by his collar, pinning him against the wall. As Lloyd appeared from the bunkhouse, Rip pointed towards Hattie, who remained silently watching. "You hit her, mother fucker" Rip sneered. "This is what you get." Vince, bloodied and bruised, mustered enough defiance to spit on Rip's boots before hurling a chilling threat at him, "I'm going to kill you."

Rip chuckled at Vince's empty threat, his tone coldly mocking. "Well, you ain't gonna have that chance, partner." Turning to Lloyd, he commanded, "Tie his ass up. Throw him in the truck." Vince tried to struggle against their grasp, desperately pleading, "What are you doing? Hattie, help me. Tell them to stop!" Hattie stood resolute, staring defiantly at her attacker before striding up to him and delivering a powerful punch to his face. "Rot in hell, you f\*\*king pussy," she seethed.

Hattie defiantly climbed into the Yellowstone truck, ignoring Rip's attempts to convince her to get out. "Get out of the truck, Hattie. Go home," he pleaded. She shook her head firmly, not budging. "No. If he's going to the train station, I want to see it," she insisted, her determination unyielding.

Rip looked at her steadfastly, a knowing look in his eyes. "You know what that means, don't you?" he asked. She responded with a determined nod, "Kacey's got it. I can have it too." From that day forth, Hattie made a silent vow to herself - never again would she allow herself to be a victim of cruelty, instead vowing to be the one breaking hearts.

Hattie quickly proved herself on the ranch. "Look at her go!" Lee chuckled admiringly as she skillfully managed the cattle. "She sure is something," he conceded. Ryan watched her from afar, his smile betraying his admiration. Lee noticed his interest and smirked, nudging him with a knowing look. "You think so?" he teased. Ryan's smile widened as he nodded silently, his eyes fixed on Hattie. Lloyd, riding alongside Ryan, chuckled, "Come on, Romeo."

Lee's voice carried across the plains, calling out to Hattie. "Hattie!" He observed Ryan's rapt attention towards her and continued, "You're with Ryan. Ride up to the river and move them this way." Hattie rode up to the pair, her presence causing Ryan to nervously fidget with his appearance. Lloyd chuckled at the exchange, his smirk widening. Hattie came to a halt in front of them, her soft blonde locks swaying gently in the breeze. Ryan's eyes widened as he smiled at her, his gaze captivated. "Is that alright?" She asked, only to realize he completely missed what she said. "What was that?"

Hattie couldn't help but notice the way Ryan's eyes lingered on her. Seeing the way he reacted, a sly smirk played on her lips, knowing very well about his feelings. She glanced over at her brother, unsurprised by his attempts to matchmake. Hattie tilted her head slightly and suggested, "I figured we could give them a rest once we reach the river. It's quite a long ride." Ryan nodded eagerly, his eyes never leaving her face. "Sounds perfect. That's a brilliant idea." Hattie, knowing exactly what was going on, furrowed her brow slightly. "Okay, let's go

Lee chuckled, giving Ryan a playful wink. "You're walking into the lion's den with her," he teased. Ryan's neck grew warm with embarrassment, and he responded defensively, "Y'all are setting me up."

Riding side by side, they gradually approached the river, the sound of the rushing water growing louder. Once they reached the river's edge, they dismounted and settled down by the water's edge. Ryan sat quietly, his mind racing as he desperately tried to find something to say.

Hattie removed her hat, her blonde hair fluttering in the breeze. She teased Ryan, saying, "You're quiet today." Ryan's flustered response began with, "Am I?"

Hattie chuckled softly. "Even after all these years, I still make you nervous?" Her tone was lighthearted, yet unbeknownst to her, her words held truth. Ryan's cheeks flushed as he admitted, "You can be intimidating, darlin'." Hattie patted his leg gently, her hand lingering for a moment longer than usual. It was a common occurrence between them, this flirtatious banter. Hattie's gaze shifted to the river, and a mischievous smirk played on her lips.

Hattie stood, shedding her shirt and jeans in swift motions. She turned to Ryan, a playful challenge written on her face. "You coming?"

Ryan's eyes widened in surprise as he watched her jump into the river. "Are you crazy?" he asked, his voice a mix of awe and concern. Hattie chuckled, "Don't be a pussy. Come on, cowboy."

Ryan took a moment, gathering his courage before discarding his clothes and joining Hattie in the river. He let out a yelp as the cool water enveloped him. "Oh, shit, it's freezing!" He swam over to her, his limbs aching from the cold. Hattie's arms wrapped around him, and he had to pinch himself to assure himself he wasn't dreaming. There, in the river, he had the woman of his dreams pressed against him.

Hattie's blunt question cut through the tension, "You wanna kiss me?" her smirk growing wider. Ryan's hands instinctively found her waist, and he knew this was a risky move. Looking into her eyes, he replied, "You know I do, darlin'." Her proximity sent his mind reeling, feeling intoxicated by her nearness. "Can I?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Kiss me, cowboy." Ryan's lips finally met hers, their kiss hidden by the rippling water. Their bodies pressed against each other, hidden by the flowing river, and the secret of their situationship had begun between the farmer's daughter and a ranch hand.

One evening in the bunkhouse, the atmosphere was charged with excitement as a game of cards began. "This game doesn't even make sense," Colby grumbled, throwing his cards down in frustration. "Man, this is bulls\*t. I'm broke." Ryan revealed his winning hand, collecting the winnings. As he meticulously organized his winnings, he couldn't help but overhear the muttered comments from his fellow cowboys about a certain Dutton.

"Hattie is the perfect rider, both on horseback and in bed," Fred smirked, taking a swig of his beer. One of his friends chuckled and added, "She ain't bad. I took her for a spin last weekend." The other men snickered in agreement.

Ryan felt a surge of anger as he stood, his eyes fixed on Fred. "Bullshit!" he exclaimed, certain that Fred was making things up. Fred's attempt to play it cool failed, and he was clearly taken aback by Ryan's outburst. "What's wrong, cowboy? Jealous?" Ryan stepped forward, his anger blazing, but before he could lay a hand on Fred, Rip intervened. He placed a firm hand on Ryan's chest, commanding, "Calm the fuck down." Ryan was too enraged to speak, and Rip turned his attention to Fred.

It took all of Ryan's willpower to tear his gaze from Fred. He was seething with anger, ready to pounce on him. Rip intervened, shaking him forcefully, "HEY! Stop that shIt and tell me what happened. You know the fucking rules." Rip pushed Ryan back into his seat, the weight of his hand a reminder that he needed to cool off and explain himself.

Lloyd spoke up, his voice a mix of anger and disappointment. "Fred was speaking ill about Hattie." Rip's eyes blazed with fury as he turned to Fred. "What the f**k did you say about Hattie?" Fred attempted to shrug it off, explaining, "I made a joke-" Rip pushed him forcefully back onto his bunk, his voice a growl. "A joke? A f**king joke? That's the daughter of your f**ing boss! You ever say anything about her again, and I'll rope your ass and drag you to pasture 9 and bury you right there." Rip shook his head at the childish behavior. "A joke. Grow the fuck up," Rip walks out slamming the bunkhouse door.

Ryan understood the rules, even though he'd heard them a hundred times before. When two men wanted to settle a dispute, they went to Rip. He would fight them all day if necessary. But for Hattie, Ryan was prepared to break the rules. If she ever needed him to fight for her, he would do so without hesitation. He'd gladly pack his bags and leave with a smile, knowing he had defended her honor.

#ryan yellowstone #yellowstone #ian bohen #yellowstone fanfiction #Ryan x OC #Yellowstone Ryan x OC #original character #Yellowstone x OC

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ezekiel-krishna · 8 months ago

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🏃‍♂️ Your Next Adventure

Have you had any memorable adventures in 2023?

Pick the image that resonates with you the most. If you feel drawn to more than one image, embrace the diversity and embrace them all!

Pile 1

I see you embarking on a weekend getaway to the countryside. Packed with essentials like a map, snacks, and a camera to capture the beauty around, you set off on to your journey. While travelling along the winding country roads, You couldn't help but be amazed by the vast expanse of green fields and towering trees that stretched out before you. The air was so crisp and clean, a refreshing change from the pollution of the city. You happily sang along to your favorite songs on the phone.

Upon reaching the destination, a charming bed and breakfast nestled in the heart of the countryside, Greeted by the innkeeper's warm and welcoming nature. Settling into your cozy room with delighting floral curtains and the breathtaking view of rolling hills in the distance.

As you set out to hike along a nearby trail, ready to explore the unknown. The fragrance of wildflowers, and the cheerful birdsong accompanied you every step of the way. Pausing for a moment, you couldn't help but admire the crystal-clear and inviting waters of a babbling brook. Continuing your journey, you stumbled upon a hidden meadow, adorned with a riot of vibrant and colorful blooms.

As the sun gracefully descended, casting a stunning palette of pink and gold across the sky, You discovered a secluded spot to settle and contemplate. Surrounded by the breathtaking beauty of nature, you experienced a profound sense of peace and contentment. It was in that very moment that you realized the true value of slowing down, of immersing yourself in the simple pleasures that life has to offer.

As you walked back to the inn, your heart brimming with joy and your spirit revitalized. You realized that your time in the countryside had truly changed you for the better. As you fell asleep, listening to the soothing rustle of leaves outside the window, feeling thankful for the chance to temporarily escape into the peaceful arms of nature.

Pile 2

I catch sight of you taking a solo trip to a foreign land. You meticulously planned your journey, learned about local customs, and loaded your bags with necessities. With a mix of excitement and nervousness, you boarded the plane and set off to explore a new territory. As you arrived in the new country, you were immediately captivated by the vibrant colors, bustling streets, and the melodic chatter of an unfamiliar language.

With a sense of awe, you explored the lively city, indulging in exotic cuisine, immersing yourself in the local customs, and forming new friendships along the way. As you ventured into the countryside, You marveled at the awe-inspiring landscapes, from majestic mountains to tranquil lakes. You visited ancient places, and witnessed traditional ceremonies/cultures that left you in awe. Throughout your journey, You faced challenges and moments of uncertainty, but you confronted them with bravery and an open mind.

You learned to communicate through gestures and smiles, navigate unfamiliar streets, and embracing the unknown with curiosity. By the end of the trip, You not only discovered a new country but also found a newfound sense of independence, resilience, and appreciation for the world's diversity. As you boarded the plane back home, you carried cherished memories of a transformative adventure that had enriched your life beyond imagination.

Pile 3

You made a bold decision to explore a vibrant city for the very first time. Upon arrival, you was enveloped by the hustle and bustle of the urban landscape, with its sea of people, diverse cultures, and towering skyscrapers. You meandered through the bustling streets, admiring the array of faces, languages, and cultures that enveloped you. You strolled through lively markets, where the aroma of exotic spices wafted through the air and vendors beckoned to passersby. Visiting museums, art galleries, and historical landmarks, each providing a glimpse into the city's rich past and bright present.

Despite the constant commotion of the city, You managed to find moments of serenity in peaceful parks and tucked-away alleyways. Standing on a rooftop terrace, you marveled at the sunrise, the cityscape unfolding like a magnificent work of art. In that precise moment, filled with a profound sense of awe and curiosity, realizing the limitless possibilities that lay within the city's grasp.

With a ticket in hand, you stepped onto the train that would transport you back to your quaint hometown, reflecting back the memories of an extraordinary urban escapade. The city with its buzzing energy, organized chaos, and breathtaking beauty, leaving an everlasting impression. Being well aware of the time you spent exploring its streets and uncovering its mysteries that would forever hold a special place in your heart. As the train chugged away, gazing back at the city's skyline, with a smile adorning face, and a deep sense of gratitude resonating within for the unforgettable adventure you had just lived.

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#tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a card #pick one #tarotdaily #pac reading

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cyllres · 1 month ago

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Devil | JJK x Makima! Reader

Halloween Special

softer yn, slight ooc, not proofread

The murmur of voices tugged you from the comforting depths of sleep, drifting into your awareness with quiet persistence.

“Psst… Y/n!” The voice, playful yet insistent, was barely a whisper near your ear. Before you could sink back into sleep, the voice teased again, “Y/nnnnnn,” this time with a tickling sensation brushing against your nose. You wrinkled it, swatting sleepily at the air, but the buzzing continued.

“Gojo-sensei, I don’t think we should wake Y/n up…” came your brother’s unmistakable voice, laced with worry. You could practically hear his frown, as though he knew the consequences of disturbing you all too well.

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s alright to wake Y/n up…” Junpei echoed, his voice softer, as if he feared what would happen next.

“What? And let her miss a once-in-a-lifetime chance to visit Tokyo’s best horror booth?” Satoru’s voice was barely restrained with excitement. You could feel his fingers poking at your arm, adding a gentle but persistent prod to his words.

Outside your door, Megumi’s voice drifted through, flat and deadpan as usual. “The horror booth is there every year. This isn’t exactly a rare opportunity.”

Beside him, Yuuji and Junpei both wore matching looks of worry, casting anxious glances at Gojo, who seemed oblivious to the growing concern.

“Horror booths are lame,” Nobara announced from her perch on your swivel chair. She spun lazily, barely glancing up from her phone as she scrolled with one hand, her posture relaxed but somehow defiant. “I’m only here because Gojo-sensei’s paying. I’d rather hit up Tokyo’s night market, honestly.”

A sigh slipped past your lips as your eyes cracked open. Blinking against the dim light, you focused on the first figure in your vision—an all-too-cheery Satoru, grinning down at you like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Ah, you’re awake!” Satoru exclaimed, his enthusiasm radiating like a second sun. It was far too early— or late as you glanced at your bedside clock, seeing it's 10:58pm of October 30th, for this much energy, especially from him.

“Why did you wake me up? And how did you get in here?” Your voice held a dangerous edge, but he didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care.

“The utility staff has spare keys to everyone’s dorm.” Satoru held up a jangling ring of keys, spinning them around his finger with a mischievous grin. The metallic clinking set you on edge, and you fixed him with a glare.

“Come on, sleepyhead!” he said, yanking you upright with a strength you barely registered in your groggy state. “We’re going to the best Halloween activity in Tokyo—my favorite horror booth!”

Yuuji, standing in the doorway, winced at Satoru’s enthusiasm, shooting you an apologetic look as you were hauled up. “Gojo-sensei…” he murmured.

You resisted Satoru’s relentless tugging for a moment, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you sized up the situation. Junpei looked apologetically at you, as if to say he tried to stop him, and Yuuji’s nervous gaze pleaded for patience. Nobara continued to swing on your chair, unconcerned, while Megumi stood with his arms crossed, observing the chaos with disinterest.

“Let go,” you said coldly, yanking your arm free from Satoru’s grip, your eyes narrowing at him. “You break into my room, drag half the school in here, and expect me to follow along like one of your… pets?”

Satoru grinned, clearly unfazed. “Not pets— my cute students!” He clapped a hand to his chest with mock sincerity, but his eyes twinkled with that same impish gleam. “Besides, Y/n, think about it! Tokyo’s most infamous horror booth, a night full of chills and thrills, all in good company. You wouldn’t pass that up, would you?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you considered your options. To be dragged out of your bed like this, without warning, and for something as trivial as a Halloween attraction—it felt like a test, a challenge to your authority. And yet… the thought of them waiting on you, expecting you to simply comply, sparked a faint thrill.

“Fine,’ you relented, your voice soft yet edged with annoyance, letting them think it was against your will. “But I’m only coming because you’ve clearly put in so much effort. And,” you glanced back at Satoru, your eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief, “I’d hate to see all your excitement go to waste.”

Satoru gave a small whoop of victory, oblivious to the undercurrents of your response. Yuuji’s face lit up, visibly relieved you hadn’t erupted, and Junpei even cracked a small smile.

With a sigh, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, moving with reluctant grace as you grabbed for your coat—only to pause, noticing what everyone else was wearing. Your eyes scanned over the group, now clearly dressed in absurdly coordinated wizard costumes, complete with cloaks, hats, and gaudy silver stars. Even Nobara, who normally wouldn’t be caught dead in anything she didn’t hand-pick herself, wore the costume, her expression an impressive blend of irritation and resignation.

You shot a sharp, incredulous look at Satoru, who was practically vibrating with excitement. His outfit was just as ridiculous as the rest, a long cloak and oversized hat tilted at a jaunty angle, which somehow made his already strange personality even more absurd.

“I’d rather kill myself,” you muttered darkly.

Satoru’s grin only widened. “I’m glad you agreed!” he exclaimed with a laugh, ignoring your comment entirely. Before you could protest, he swept you into his plan, draping a matching wizard cloak over your shoulders with an exaggerated flourish. Your own coat slipped from your hands as he fastened the buttons up to your chin, ignoring your scowl as he forced a pointed wizard hat onto your head, pushing it down until it nearly covered your eyes.

“Perfect!” he announced, giving a satisfied nod, already tugging you out of the room. He led you by the arm as if you might bolt at any second, though part of you was genuinely tempted. Nobara, trailing behind, rolled her eyes and reached over to flick the lamp off, casting your room in darkness as she closed the door.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, glancing down at the knee-length wizard coat that now clashed horrifically with your red checkered pajamas. “This doesn’t even match.”

Yuuji, standing just outside with Junpei and Megumi, gave you a grin, adjusting his own wizard cloak to reveal his equally mismatched Hello Kitty pajama pants. “Don’t worry, none of us match either!” he said with an awkward laugh, as though hoping his cheerfulness might make up for the whole situation.

You rolled your eyes but said nothing, settling into an irritated silence as the group began the walk across campus. Satoru, as usual, chatted animatedly about what was waiting at the horror booth, while you trudged along, brushing loose strands of hair out of your face as the wind picked up, sending your hair flowing in wild waves around you.

"Y/n-san… do you want me to tie your hair up?” Junpei’s voice was soft, his expression earnest as he held out a hairband from his wrist.

You looked at him, hesitating briefly before shaking your head. “No, I’m sleeping after this anyway,” you replied.

As you walked further, casting occasional glances at the absurdly dressed group around you, you found yourself wondering how you'd ended up here, wrapped in a wizard’s cloak, being shepherded along to a haunted house like an ordinary teenager. It was laughably out of character, but an unnoticeable smile crossed your face.

But maybe letting everyone drag you along isn't so bad?

Nobara crossed her arms, scowling as she took in the towering, dilapidated mansion in front of them, its windows like dark eyes staring back at them. “Seriously?” she huffed. “This isn’t just a horror booth; it’s a whole mansion. We might get lost in there!” She shot Satoru an annoyed glare, jabbing her thumb at the massive structure. Every so often, a shriek echoed from within, followed by faint, mocking laughter from some unseen figure. Nobara winced with each sound, her irritation mounting.

“I know, that's why it's so popular and packed, it's the best horror booth in Tokyo!” Satoru, ever unfazed, grinned as he flashed his VVIP card, practically shoving it in their faces with exaggerated enthusiasm. “And that’s why,” he said with a flourish, “I’m buying us VIP tickets, so we don’t have to deal with that endless line!” His smug grin only widened as he pointed to the line of people shuffling forward, each looking as though they were contemplating whether to go in or turn back.

Meanwhile, you stood beside Yuuji, your arm loosely linked with his. You barely glanced up at the mansion, your expression betraying no excitement whatsoever. You simply watched Satoru, silently urging him to hurry so you could get this ordeal over with. Yuuji noticed and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze, but the look in his eyes hinted at his own rising nervousness.

“Alright, my cute students!” Satoru said as he gestured grandly toward the mansion, his voice booming with excitement. “Go enjoy yourselves! I, your amazing teacher, will just… wait for you here, outside!” Without warning, he nudged all of you forward through the gate, ignoring Nobara’s protests.

“WHAT?” Nobara spun around, a mixture of fury and panic on her face. “You were the one who dragged us here, and now you’re not even coming? What if we get lost in there?”

Her attempt to stomp back to Satoru was thwarted by a staff member who politely but firmly directed her back toward the group. Yuuji, sensing her frustration, attempted to soothe her. “It’s fine, Nobara. I mean, Megumi probably knows the way, right?” He gave a hopeful glance toward Megumi.

Megumi only sighed, shaking his head. “It’s my first time here, too.”

Yuuji’s face fell, and Nobara’s irritation visibly spiked. Junpei, standing close to them, chuckled nervously, glancing from the group to the shadowy entrance ahead.

Finally, you all reached the arched doorway of the mansion, a dark maw that seemed to swallow all light that dared approach, the group came to a halt, hesitating at the threshold as the scent of flowers and stale candle wax wafted out in an oddly haunting perfume.

You glanced over at Megumi and Nobara who were leading the group in confusion. “What are you waiting for?” you demanded, a hint of impatience in your voice. “Get in. Let’s get this over with.”

Megumi shifted, glancing into the pitch-black interior, then back at you. “It’s… dark,” he muttered, his deadpan voice revealing the slightest crack of unease.

“Way too dark,” Nobara added, her voice faltering. The strange, almost sickly scent in the air seemed to unnerve her, and before you could register what was happening, she slipped behind you, placing a firm hand on your shoulder as if you were her personal shield. Megumi sidled closer as well, his usual stoicism tinged with a flicker of discomfort.

“This is ridiculous,” you sighed, your irritation barely concealed. “Are all of you really this dense? Everything in here is fake. Besides were all sorcerers, we've seen scarier curses than this.”

Despite your protests, the others seemed to be in no rush to move forward, clustering around you as if you were their anchor. Nobara clutched your shoulder; Junpei clung to your arm with surprising strength; Yuuji held your hand tightly, his palm damp with nerves, and even Megumi gripped the back of your coat, his fingers digging into the fabric. You felt like you were shepherding a group of scared children through a haunted house.

“It’s not that we’re scared,” Nobara muttered defensively, nudging you forward. “We just… don’t want to trip over anything.” She glanced away, clearing her throat. “Plus, you’re better at navigating in the dark. And let’s be honest, you’re way scarier than anything in here.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you shot her a sharp look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing!” Nobara gave a strained laugh, sidestepping your glare as she nudged you again.

With an exasperated sigh, you took the lead, stepping into the mansion’s darkened halls. The air grew colder immediately, settling around you like a damp fog. The dim flickering light cast eerie shadows across the peeling wallpaper and cracked floorboards, illuminating the path ahead in erratic flashes. The others followed closely, their collective nervous energy practically radiating from them.

With each step, the unsettling atmosphere intensified. Faint whispers seemed to echo down the hall, growing louder as you ventured further. Yuuji’s hand gripped yours even tighter, and you felt Junpei’s grip tighten on your arm.

“You’re all hopeless,” you muttered.

You continued down the creaking hallway, the dim light casting distorted shadows that twisted and danced along the walls. Every so often, the sound of distant footsteps or a chilling whisper would fill the air, clearly unnerving everyone but you.

Suddenly, a figure dressed in tattered rags lunged out from a hidden corner, emitting a low, menacing growl.

“AHH!” Yuuji let out a high-pitched scream, gripping your hand so tightly that you were sure he’d leave marks. His scream set off Nobara, who shrieked as well, clutching your shoulder even harder.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” you muttered, barely suppressing an eye roll as Yuuji continued to gasp in horror, glancing nervously over his shoulder as though the figure might come back to haunt him.

Junpei, on the other hand, tried to play it cool, but you could feel his grip tremble slightly against your arm. His gaze darted to each dark corner, and every time a shadow seemed to move, his fingers tensed, his nervousness betraying him. “It’s… uh, not so scary. Just some guy in a costume, right?” he mumbled, though his uneasy expression suggested he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

Only Megumi remained outwardly calm, his face impassive as ever. Yet, his hand tightened on the back of your coat, his fingers gripping the fabric as though he feared he’d be swallowed by the shadows if he let go. You raised an eyebrow, amused by the silent admission that, despite his poker face, even he felt a flicker of anxiety in this ridiculous setting.

Another jump scare—a hand reaching out from the wall this time—elicited another yelp from Yuuji. “Why is everything popping out of nowhere?” he whined, his eyes wide as he clutched your hand like it was his lifeline.

“Oh my god, Yuuji, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” Nobara yelled, her voice a mixture of exasperation and lingering panic. “Stop screaming before I punch you!” She clung tighter to you, but you could feel her hands trembling as she forced herself to keep her composure.

“Then stop screaming because I scream!” Yuuji shot back, his face flushed in embarrassment.

Junpei flinched as another low groan echoed through the room, his shoulders tense. “Yeah, well… I think we should just keep moving,” he stammered, glancing nervously over his shoulder. Despite his best attempts, his discomfort was painfully obvious, and you caught the way he tried to shrink behind you each time a new sound or movement startled him.

With a sigh, you kept leading them deeper, clearly the only one holding it together. You paused at an intersection where two hallways diverged, one barely lit and the other bathed in ominous red light. The group hesitated, looking at you expectantly.

“Choose the red light,” Megumi muttered, his voice as calm as his expression. His grip on your coat, however, tightened to the point where you wondered if he’d ever let go.

“Fine,” you replied, stepping into the hallway without a second thought.

As you moved forward, you heard heavy footsteps echoing behind you. Yuuji’s breathing quickened, and he gripped your hand even tighter, nearly hiding behind you as the figure slowly approached from the darkness. When it finally lunged forward, its face inches from Yuuji, he let out the loudest scream yet, causing Nobara to shriek right after him. Even Junpei, who had been trying to keep his fear under wraps, screamed so hard that he stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Megumi, despite his tight grip on your coat, gave a resigned sigh, looking as though he were mentally preparing himself for a long night. “Can we just… finish this?” he muttered, his voice laced with faint frustration.

You smirked, patting Yuuji in reassurance. “Let’s try to get through this without you all losing your minds. Stick close. I’d hate for one of you to end up as a permanent part of this haunted mansion.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances but held onto you even tighter, following close as you continued through the mansion’s maze-like halls. As the walls seemed to close in tighter and the shadows grew darker, you found their nervous presence less irritating and—perhaps you’d never admit it out loud—almost amusing.

As you pressed further into the mansion’s twisting corridors, the eerie atmosphere thickened. The whispers turned into chilling laughter, distant groans, and rustling noises from unseen places. With each step, the shadows seemed to pulse and shift, causing everyone’s nerves to fray even more.

Another figure leaped out, closer this time, hissing with glowing eyes and sharp teeth. Yuuji let out an ear-splitting scream and instantly buried his face into your shoulder, clutching onto you as if he were hanging over the edge of a cliff. “I’m not scared,” he muttered, though his muffled voice shook slightly. Nobara, already on edge, shrieked and followed suit, gripping your shoulders with both hands as if her life depended on it.

“Not looking, not looking,” she whispered fiercely, pressing her forehead to your shoulder and squeezing her eyes shut.

Beside her, Junpei had latched onto your arm completely, hiding his face as he tried to control his rapid breathing, but the pale look on his face betrayed his terror. “This… is totally under control,” he whispered, sounding anything but convinced.

Then there was Megumi. He clung to you as well, eyes tightly shut. You could feel his hold tremble slightly, though his voice remained silent.

“Are you all serious?” you muttered, struggling to move forward as their combined weight pulled you back. “You’re going to bury me alive at this rate.”

The group clung so tightly that your movement became awkward, their constant pulling and jolting making it hard to keep your balance. At one point, another actor lunged out of the shadows with a menacing growl, and you felt their collective grips tighten as they all shrieked in unison. The unexpected force caused you to stumble forward, tripping over your own feet and nearly falling flat on your face. You managed to catch yourself, but the sudden motion sent the group into a full-blown panic.

“Y/n!” Yuuji yelped, his voice bordering on hysterical. “Are you okay?!”

“Oh my god, are we under attack?” Nobara shrieked, clutching you even harder, her grip nearly cutting off your circulation.

“Who tripped? Is it safe? Is there a curse?” Junpei stammered, refusing to open his eyes as he pressed even closer.

Even Megumi’s grip didn’t ease; if anything, he held on tighter, as if letting go would mean being swallowed by the darkness. “...We’re still alive, right?” he muttered, his usual deadpan tone faltering.

You straightened, adjusting your coat and brushing off their worried hands with an exasperated sigh. “Yes, I tripped. No, there's no curse,” you grumbled. “But if you keep clutching onto me like this, I’ll leave you all here,” you warned, though your usual intimidating tone was softened somewhat by the burden of dragging four people along.

“Don't you dare!” Nobara whispered sharply, her voice muffled against you. She didn’t dare release her grip, though, and neither did the others.

You gave an exasperated sigh, looking down at the mass of terrified faces pressed against you. “Fine. But one more panic-induced tug, and I’m cutting you all loose.”

The group murmured their nervous agreements, but they kept their eyes closed, clearly hoping they’d make it out of this haunted mansion alive, as long as they didn’t have to face it. You gritted your teeth, somehow both annoyed and amused, and continued forward, bracing for whatever awaited—and hoping it didn’t send this terrified group of sorcerers into even more chaos.

As you finally stumbled out of the haunted mansion, the bright lights of the festival flooded over you, and the cool night air felt refreshing against your face. You took a deep breath, grateful to be out of that damp, claustrophobic maze—and grateful, above all, to get some personal space back.

But the moment was short-lived, as the group still clung to you with their faces buried into your shoulders, backs, and arms, clinging as if they had barely escaped some life-threatening ordeal. Junpei’s grip on your arm left faint hand marks, and you could feel Nobara still clutching your shoulders. Yuuji’s hold on your hand had been so tight that your fingers were pale and slightly bruised, and your coat showed a permanent crease from Megumi’s white-knuckled grip.

“Finally,” you muttered, brushing off their hands. But as you looked down, you realized the cost of playing fearless leader. Your hair, usually pristine, was messy and knotted, your wizard hat missing in the chaos, likely discarded somewhere during one of Yuuji's particularly intense shrieks. Your coat was wrinkled beyond repair, practically clinging to you at odd angles.

Satoru greeted you with an overly bright grin, phone ready as he took a picture. “Now that’s a look I’ve never seen on you, Y/n! The haunted-mansion survivor aesthetic. I should get you out like this more often!”

You glared at him, pushing a tangled lock of hair out of your face. "One word, Gojo-sensei, and you won’t survive your own haunted mansion."

Yuuji, looking sheepish, rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, Y/n... guess I panicked a little too much in there.”

“A little?” Nobara scoffed. “I don’t even know how you survived that place without getting bruised!” she huffed, looking equally disheveled but far more amused as she shot Yuuji a pointed look. “Next time, maybe think twice before using Y/n as a human shield.”

As if she wasn't the first one to use you as a human shield.

Junpei chuckled nervously, his face flushed as he tried to avoid eye contact. “Sorry for… you know, grabbing you like that. I swear it’s just—everything was jumping out, and—”

“Enough,” you said, trying to maintain a shred of dignity despite your bedraggled appearance. “You all owe me for this,” you muttered, attempting to straighten out the mess they’d left of your coat and bruised hands.

Megumi, still gripping the edge of your coat out of habit, finally let go. His cheeks were slightly pink as he mumbled, “Thanks… for leading us. It was... helpful.”

Satoru, laughing as he watched the scene unfold, finally draped his arm over your shoulders with an overly satisfied grin. “See? A little horror bonding session was just what you all needed.”

You turned to him, giving him a tired, flat look. “I should've just left them all behind, you're lucky I didn't.”

“Oh, I know,” he replied, laughing. “I knew you wouldn’t. Guess that’s why you’re the best, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved his arm off. “Next time, try actually going in with us, sensei.”

#reader insert #jjk #jjk anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #happy halloweeeeeeen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #halloween special

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slaymitchabernathy · 7 months ago

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Mr. Peacekeeper

Coriolanus can see his breath in the air while walking back to his sleeping quarters. It's been an adjustment, being here in Two. Mostly because he wants nothing more than to go back home to the Capitol, but he figures that he'll have to stick it out here a little longer before making his final move.

Soarynn teases him about his impatience. It's easy for her to laugh about it, she doesn't know what awaits them in the Capitol, how much better it is there than in the Districts. She'll learn though, he'll teach her how to have proper manners and to be the perfect Capitol lady.

He just has to be patient.

He unlocks the door to his little shack and peers in to find Soarynn isn't in bed. The bathroom door is shut though, she must be in the shower. Their sleeping quarters are less than desirable, there's little room to move around and the bed is quite small but they make it work. Coriolanus pulls open the top drawer of the dresser and carefully places his gun in the corner he always leaves it in. Being a Private gave him a lot more privileges such as owning a smaller gun, easier to conceal, his curfew was also extended by an hour and he was able to leave the base without having to be cleared by his Commander.

Commander Potts was a stern man who rarely ever cracked a smile. He had greeted them when they arrived at the base and Coriolanus would never forget how his eyes roved over Soarynn, taking her in. She had been in complete awe of the base and the mountain that stood behind it so she hadn't even noticed his wandering eyes. But Coriolanus had.

Soarynn was a...special case. She was given certain privileges such as staying with Coriolanus and being able to leave the base with him but her curfew was the same as a basic Peacekeeper's and she was expected to help out with some of the chores. She didn't seem to mind though, it kept her busy. Coriolanus didn't want her lounging around in bed all day so it made him feel better to see her moving about the base.

The other men, of course, loved Soarynn. While she mostly kept to herself, she was flirtatious by nature and Coriolanus would often find her in the company of several Peacekeepers who would be in the midst of teasing her, pulling on her ponytail, teaching her little games.

Coriolanus didn't like it.

He shuts the drawer and opens the one below it, the one where Soarynn keeps all her belongings. There's not much, some underwear, a few shirts and pants. She hadn't had much to begin with and Commander Potts managed to scrounge up some clothes that decently fit her and allowed her to blend in with the basic uniform. She's also got a stack of playing cards, something she bought from the Mill a few weeks ago.

Coriolanus and Soarynn had been navigating their new life in Two together and that included wandering around the town and getting to know the locals. Soarynn faired much better with these people, all of them being District. Coriolanus would often linger behind as she spoke to people, asking questions, getting the scoop. His Peacekeeper uniform certainly wasn't helping his case but people were more wary of him than they were of Soarynn.

They'd discovered that District Two had their own version of the Hob. It was the Mill. It was relatively the same idea and layout as the Hob, a black market of sorts. Coriolanus wouldn't be surprised if every District had something or the other related to a black market of sorts. Soarynn always begged to go on Friday nights, always wanting to socialize and dance. Sometimes Coriolanus would indulge her requests and take her with him, other times he'd leave her behind or they'd both stay back on the base so that he could do some paperwork.

His workload had increased significantly since being promoted and he found that he enjoyed the challenge it posed. His brain had been turning into mush back in Twelve, but in Two, his mind was sharp and alert.

He digs around her drawer until he finds what he's looking for, that little pouch. He opens it and dumps out the contents into his hand. There are several dirty old coins, not worth much but they're something he supposes. Soarynn being here with him offered him a great advantage over everyone else on the base who was severely touch-starved. They didn't have whores in Two the way they did in Twelve and Soarynn was such a sweet little sight to all the men on base.

So, Coriolanus began to extend her services to some of the men. Not all of them, no, he had to be selective. He chose higher ranking men, like Officers and Privates and Generals. Men who could help him climb up the ranks.

Soarynn had protested the idea at first, even threatened to run away. "You said things would be different here," she'd cried, "you said that I wouldn't have to make a livin' doin' what I did back in Twelve." Coriolanus hadn't been in the mood for a full-blown tantrum from her, not when he put his neck out on the line to bring her with him. He'd grabbed her by the hair and craned her neck back, forcing her to look up as he towered over her, "If you're going to be an ungrateful brat then I can see to it that every man on this base has a turn with you and that tight little cunt of yours. If you want to be my good girl, then you can do as I say and I'll see to it that you're not sleeping with anyone who would pose a major threat to you or to me," he'd said so calmly.

A few tears escaped her eyes but he knew he had her trapped. So far away from home and anyone she knew. Soarynn knew that too.

Sometimes they gave her a little something, a coin, some ribbon, a new pair of socks. Soarynn always came back to him the same way, with a distant look in her eyes while he cradled her in his arms and whispered about how good she was for him, how obedient and helpful, how no other girl would do this for him. "We both help each other darling," he'd say, running a loving hand over her head, "what you're doing is helping me reach the top."

And he would reach the top, no matter the cost.

꧁ ꧂

"Your girl's been causing problems Private Snow."

Coriolanus is stunned. As far as he knew, Soarynn was well-behaved and rather well-liked by everyone on the base. Besides the fact that she was a good fuck, the men were more than kind to her, even the cook, Goose, had taken a liking to her and apparently, he didn't like anyone.

Coriolanus swallows, "What kind of problems sir?"

Commander Potts sighs and runs a hand over his clipped hair, "Some of the men have come to me with complaints. They're saying that...that she's been sleeping around with some of the other men."

If this is what the problem is then Coriolanus is more than willing to let Soarynn take the fall for it. He's not the one sleeping around. And he knows that the men he does let her fuck would never complain. It must be those dirty, lowlifes who have never gotten a chance with her. He feigns a look of disgust, "Sleeping around? Sir, I...I'm as appalled as you are. Soarynn's a good girl I swear. She'd never cause any trouble. But um...she used to do this back in Twelve."

Potts widens his eyes and he leans forward, "You don't say." Coriolanus nods, acting as if this pains him to talk about, "They called her the barracks bunny. She'd hop around and sleep with anyone. I thought by bringing her here and taking her out of that environment that she'd change but I suppose she's played me for a fool."

Commander Potts sighs and shakes his head, "So this is something she's known for then. I see. Well, I don't want to cause any problems for you Private, so why don't we make a little deal?" Coriolanus hadn't come here to make a deal, but he doesn't have much of a choice. He sits up straighter, "Of course sir."

Potts could say anything, suggest anything, and for once, Coriolanus doesn't have the upper hand. Potts turns to the door that stands on the right of his desk and waves his hand, "Bring her in." Coriolanus watches as two Peacekeepers drag Soarynn into the room. Her eyes are wide with fear, her hands are bound behind her and she's been gagged. It also looks like she's put up quite the fight because both men had scratches all over their faces. He can see a nasty bruise blooming over her left eye though, meaning they got the last word. She's shaking and she's looking right at him, begging him to save her.

He can't.

It's like his mother's compact all over again.

Potts sighs and gives her a pitiful look before turning back to Coriolanus, "I apologize for the extreme measures. Standard protocol for all detainees as you know." Coriolanus keeps his expression neutral, he doesn't need to over react. "She's been detained? On what charges?" All three men chuckle like they know something he doesn't, "For being a whore," one of the Peacekeepers says with a smirk, "and who knows what kind of diseases she's been spreading."

Coriolanus refrains from telling them that Soarynn is clean, doesn't have any sort of sexually transmitted diseases even though he can see Soarynn trying to get him to talk, to help her. He doesn't. "Here's the deal Private," Potts says, "you start making sure your girl is paying attention to all the men on the base, not just the higher-ranking ones," he gives Coriolanus a knowing look. A look that means either Soarynn talked or he's put two and two together and realized that Soarynn's only been fucking the most important men on the base.

And Coriolanus decides to play right into his hand in order to come out of this unscathed. So he shrugs, relaxes into the chair, slouches a little for good measure. "Of course. You can even take her for a spin if you want, she's good for it." There's betrayal written all over her face but Coriolanus wisely ignores it and focuses on the more than pleased face that Commander Potts is wearing. "You sure?" He asks before giving Soarynn another glance, "I wouldn't want to get too greedy."

Coriolanus laughs and waves him off, "It would be my honor. Soarynn knows how to behave, she'll show you and your men a good time," he nods towards the two men currently restraining her who look like kids in a candy store at this open invitation.

The deal is made.

Soarynn will spend the rest of the week in the small jail they have on base so that Potts can "keep an eye on her" and in exchange for his generous offer, Coriolanus won't be written up and he's looking at a good chance at being promoted.

As Coriolanus strides out of the office he feels on top of the world.

꧁ ꧂

"They forced my hand," he reasons, stretching his hand through the iron bars, a piece of bread in between his long fingers.

Soarynn remains in her spot in the dark corner, her knees pulled up to her chest. Even though it's dark he can see the bruises on her knees, all over her body if he's being honest with himself. She shoots him a glare, "I was there when it happened," she says, her voice trembling, "I'm not some idiot Coriolanus, you let them take me."

Coriolanus scoffs, so past caring about what happened at the beginning of the week, "Well what does it matter?" He snaps, dropping the bread on the ground, "We're just one step closer to getting home Soarynn, and don't act like you didn't run around the base back in Twelve, willingly might I add." Soarynn sniffles and looks away, staring at the wall, "That's the point, I did it cause I wanted to do it. What they're doin' to me here isn't what I want. And it's your home, not mine."

For some reason, those words bite at his heartstrings. He's trying to be helpful, be understanding but if she's going to act like this then what's the point? He stands up from his crouched-down position, one of his hands holding onto one of the bars, "When you get out of here you'll be able to think about all the choices you've made leading up to this point." He stares down at her, at the barracks bunny, the District whore who's still so far beneath him even now, "In two months I'm leaving for the Capitol," he says quietly, still unable to believe it himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Soarynn straighten up at that news, then she slouches back down. Once he leaves, that's it, there's no walking this back. He's her ticket out of here if he'll have her. And it's so fucking funny how quickly she slips a switch. Soarynn pushes herself off the dirty ground, smoothing down her dress like it'll help shape up her dirtied appearance before she walks over to him. She's got that look in her eyes that she has whenever there's a customer talking to her, or a potential customer in most cases.

It certainly worked on him.

Coriolanus had been at the Hob one night, nursing a drink when she caught his eye. He had seen her around the base and she'd seen him. She gave him that sweet smile before making her way through the crowd. Once she got up to him he had to do a double take at how small she was compared to him. His Peacekeeper diet and training helped him nearly double in size. He could break her so easily.

She'd used all her tricks, said all the right things and the little slut got him hard in the middle of the Hob. "Looks like you might need some help with that sugar," she'd purred, batting her lashes up at him. Coriolanus had chuckled before throwing back the rest of his drink, "What a coincidence that you're here to help then, hmm?"

He took her out back and fucked her throat and once Soarynn swallowed all the cum he shot down her throat she stood up on shaky legs and flashed him a smile. He had offered her a shiny coin for her services but she turned it down, "One day," she'd said, "I might need some help gettin' out of a sticky situation, and maybe you could help me out of it."

He'd been so surprised by her boldness but he was also so entranced by it as well. Most Capitol girls just giggled and waited for him to make the first move but not Soarynn. "What makes you think I can help you?" He had asked her, leaning up against the wall. Soarynn shrugged, twirling her blonde hair around her finger, "I've got an itch that you're not from around these parts. You might know some important people Mr. Peacekeeper."

She had been right, and right now, she was wearing that same look, the look of desperation mixed with a bit of hopefulness.

"That's great news Coriolanus," she says softly grabbing the same bar he's holding onto, her hand is below his and much smaller than his large one. She'll always be below him. He nods, "It is." Soarynn stares at the ground for a moment, she's not wearing any shoes or socks and Coriolanus knows that he'd have a slight meltdown if his bare feet had to touch the nasty floor.

"You remember that coin you tried to give me? When we first met?"

Coriolanus smirks at her question. It's a gamble she's taking and he has to give her credit for it. "Yeah, I remember that coin."

Soarynn leans forward until they're almost eye to eye except he'd have to lean down for that to happen, "Then now is the time to help me and get me out of here," she whispers, glancing at the guards stationed a good ten feet away from them, "please Coriolanus, take me with you. If you don't then I'll be stuck here forever and once they're tired of me then they're gonna string me up."

Coriolanus feels a frown tug on his lips at the idea of Soarynn seeing the noose, a punishment meant for criminals. And this sweet girl isn't a criminal. She's a whore but that's not the worst thing in the world.

He reaches through the bars and holds her chin in between his fingers, "I'll have to make another deal with Potts, bigger than the last one," he tells her, both of them knowing what kind of deal it would be. Her chin trembles for a moment before she takes in a deep breath and nods, "I can handle it," she whispers.

Coriolanus smiles, "That's my good girl. I knew I could count on you Soarynn. If everything goes well then we'll both be out of here before you know it." Soarynn smiles up at him like she believes him, "Then we can be together in the Capitol, and you can show me to all your fancy friends." Coriolanus smiles down at her like he believes her.

꧁ ꧂

The train whistle wakes Coriolanus up from his sleep. For a moment he forgets where he is, where he's going. One glance at the blonde girl in his lap reminds him of their final destination. The Capitol.

He can't believe it. He made it. He did it.

No more Districts.

He looks out the window and can see the Capitol skyline beginning to appear. Soarynn is sound asleep, nearly dead to the world. They had left Two last night and she spent one final night pleasuring the men on the base. Coriolanus had gone with her for the final sendoff. He could tell that the men had been slightly put off by his presence but he didn't care. Soarynn belonged to him.

For a while they just touched her, warmed her up. A caress on her shoulder, a squeeze on her knee, a kiss on the cheek. Then they had one last chance to get all their pent-up energy out. Coriolanus had never borne witness to such vulgar and aggressive behavior. They bent Soarynn every which way, fucking her on the mess hall tables, holding her in the air, throwing her around really. She tried to keep it together for a while, mostly because he was watching but after a certain point she broke. Probably because they brought out some rope to use on her.

Eventually, she ended up in his lap, reeking of sex, dripping with cum from who knows how many men while they all gave her one last kiss goodbye. She was shaking the entire time, tears streaming down her face as she was forced to be intimate with all these men once more.

But it was all over. That's what he told her once they were done. She'd never have to give her body away like that again. In the Capitol, they had order, laws, class. Things would be different there.

The only thing that wouldn't be different was the fact that once again, Snow lands on top.

| Part 2. |

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