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pascaloverx · 9 days ago

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STARVE

Summary: You lost your husband some time ago while he served as a gladiator for Emperors Geta and Caracalla. General Acacius saved you from becoming an object of pleasure for the emperors. Since then, he has taken you as his mistress. In your free time, you became a disciple of Ravi, the healer, dedicating yourself to tending to wounded gladiators. All seemed to be in perfect harmony until Hanno, a gladiator driven by a thirst for vengeance, crossed your path.

Author's Note: And the gods said: Starve will be a multi-chapter fanfiction (I hope readers will follow it all the way through). Without further ado, the characters belong to Ridley Scott's Gladiator II universe, though there will be significant deviations from the film. Historical accuracy regarding life in the Roman Empire may not always be strictly observed, so I hope you can overlook that. Yes, this story revolves around a love triangle, but I will strive to satisfy everyone. This fanfiction will include adult content, violence, and potentially coarse language. Enjoy!

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ONE

A starry night, as though the gods themselves had blessed the heavens. You stand in the place where you often meet General Acacius to maintain appearances. He will spend the day attending to Emperors Geta and Caracalla alongside his wife, Lucilla. Meanwhile, your day will revolve around the gladiators—or, more precisely, their wounds. You have been summoned to tend to the gladiators who will participate in that day's opening of the games—battles they will wage against one another or against beasts. Your thoughts are divided between Marcus Acacius and Hanno, the gladiator you strongly suspect harbors intentions of avenging his wife’s death at Acacius's hands.

"Mea domina, you are here," General Acacius murmurs as he approaches, though his complexion appears unusually pale. He is dressed in a tunic that conceals most of his body, with a laurel crown adorning his head. The lateness of the hour and the absence of natural light obscure your view, but as he draws nearer, you notice a wound bleeding on his arm. You rush toward him, your concern overcoming any formality. Without hesitation, you expose the area of his injury, removing the fabric to inspect it. His skin is feverishly warm beneath your touch.

"Who did this to you, Acacius?" you ask, a wave of anger surging through your body, mingling with an overwhelming sense of concern. "By the Gods, you should have come to me sooner," you say, your voice laced with frustration as your fingers graze his fevered skin, causing him to shiver under your touch. You guide him to a nearby bench, urging him to rest. Knowing him well, you suspect he has concealed his injury from everyone, unwilling to reveal any vulnerability. Fortunately, all are accustomed to you tending to him—it is, after all, one of your roles as his lover.

"I did not wish to trouble anyone, least of all you, Y/N," Acacius replies, his tone steady as he attempts to mask his discomfort. "A gladiator loosed an arrow at me—it must have struck me somehow. Macrinus certainly knows how to select skilled men for his arena." His voice retains its commanding timbre, though his actions betray his weariness. He pulls you closer by the waist, resting his head against your abdomen, as though seeking solace in your presence.

"General, we must go to the place where Ravi keeps his instruments. I must tend to your wounds and return you, whole and well, to your wife," you say, holding Acacius' face in your hands, as if willing him to remain conscious. His deep brown eyes meet yours, their gaze uncharacteristically tender.

"But this is my time with you," he whispers, taking your hands in his and pressing a kiss to each. "And I have told you, you need not address me as General. Our relationship has long surpassed formalities," he says, his voice softer now as he finishes kissing your hands. A fleeting thought tempts you to lean down and kiss him, but before you can act, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts. Guards arrive, accompanied by Lucilla and Ravi. You instinctively want to withdraw from Acacius, but his unconscious state forces you to hold him upright.

"Take my husband to his quarters. Ravi is here to see to his treatment," Lucilla commands, her tone dismissive, her gaze avoiding yours entirely. The guards comply, carrying the now-limp Acacius away.

"Y/N," Lucilla addresses you, her voice sharp and deliberate, "from this moment forward, Ravi will be responsible for Acacius' care. I trust the gladiators will suffice to occupy your attention." Her words, though polite in form, carry an unmistakable message: your role as Acacius' lover is nearing its end. Vulnerability washes over you, but you lower your head in acknowledgment, as if understanding her decree. Without another glance, she follows the guards to accompany her husband.

Ravi approaches, carrying his instruments and tools. "I need you to go to Macrinus' gladiator and tend to his wounds. Macrinus has already informed the guards of his gladiator's need for treatment, so you need not fear," Ravi instructs, already preparing to attend to Acacius himself. Fear is far from your mind. The only sentiment stirring within you is anger, directed at the one who dared harm Acacius. You nod in silent agreement and gather the necessary supplies to treat the gladiator, your resolve firm as you set out to fulfill your task.

The guards grant you entry without hesitation, their expressions indifferent. Inside the dimly lit cell, you find Hanno—his body marred by fresh wounds, his face pale but defiant. He appears battered, as though every ounce of strength has been drained from him. Anticipating the state you might find him in, you came prepared with tools to clean his wounds, at least superficially.

"The lovely healer graces me with her presence once more," Hanno mutters, his tone laced with a mix of sarcasm and faint amusement. A strained smile flickers across his lips as he clutches his abdomen, evidently in pain. "I suppose you're here to finish what the guards so generously began." His voice is hoarse and weakened, yet it retains a biting edge.

A chill runs through you as you step closer to him, fully entering his cell. The air feels heavier here, and his piercing gaze follows your every move. "They must have hurt you for what you did to General Acacius," you state, your voice measured as you kneel, setting down your tools. The mention of Acacius draws no sign of remorse from Hanno; instead, he seems emboldened, inching himself nearer to you with deliberate subtlety. As you settle beside him, his proximity becomes undeniable, his rugged presence filling the confined space. Though weakened, there’s an unsettling calm in his demeanor, as though he is testing you, seeking something unspoken within your resolve.

As you begin to cleanse his wounds, the facade of the formidable gladiator crumbles beneath the weight of his pain. Low, anguished groans escape his lips despite his efforts to suppress them. It becomes clear that he is suffering deeply, though he clings to the last vestiges of his pride.

"Ah, here we are again," Hanno murmurs between strained breaths, his voice laced with an uneven mixture of sarcasm and torment. "You, seizing the opportunity to inflict more pain under the guise of tending my wounds, and I, striving to focus on your beauty to mask just how much it hurts."

A flicker of anger rises within you, mingled with a reluctant pity for the state of his battered body. "Flattery will not grant you any special treatment," you reply sharply, leaning in closer to examine his injuries more thoroughly. "I warned you not to harm Acacius dishonorably. I thought you might exercise restraint, but I was mistaken."

With deft movements, you remove the upper portion of his tattered garment to gain better access to the worst of his injuries. He offers no resistance, watching you with an unsettling mix of amusement and interest, as if savoring the attention. "I do recall saying I would take your request under consideration," Hanno says nonchalantly, as though the matter were trivial.

Frustrated by his flippant attitude, you press a tender wound more firmly than necessary. He lets out a guttural cry of pain, his composure faltering for a moment. "Forgive me," you say with a mocking smile, your tone cold. "I must have forgotten to take your suffering under consideration."

He meets your gaze, a faint, knowing grin curling his lips as if he derives some twisted pleasure from your defiance. "If you wish to exact vengeance, then take the dagger you’ve hidden and drive it into my heart," he says, his voice low and steady, despite the evident strain. "It is the only way to shield your precious General Acacius from my wrath." Hanno leans closer, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours, the proximity of his battered form unsettling. His observation of the concealed blade leaves you momentarily stunned, your grip tightening as the tension between you hangs heavy in the air.

"Is that what you believe I should do—kill you?" you ask, a faint trace of amusement in your tone as you marvel at Hanno's audacity. He leans closer to your face, his gaze sharp and provocative.

"If protecting him is your goal, then yes," Hanno replies, his voice steady, his eyes fixed upon yours with an intensity that borders on insolence.

You smile, intrigued by how easily he speaks of his own demise. "General Acacius is a wise and seasoned warrior. He will know how to deal with you," you say, leaning in as if accepting the challenge his very presence seems to demand.

"If you think I seek an honorable battle with Acacius solely to shield him," you continue, your voice steady and measured, "then you are gravely mistaken. Look at yourself, gladiator. To achieve vengeance, it is not merely strength or skill you require. A true fighter knows which battles are worth fighting." Your hand moves deftly to clean a wound near his neck, blood still seeping from it. He winces slightly but does not pull away, his sharp blue eyes never leaving your face.

"The way you speak, it seems as though you've developed an affection for me, healer," Hanno remarks, his tone soft but probing. "If that is the case, why carry a dagger?" He gently grasps your arm, his grip firm yet careful, as if urging you to give him your full attention.

"Because the wife of General Acacius made it clear before the guards that I will no longer tend to his care. For many of the men here, that declaration is as good as an invitation to see me as their sport," you reply, your gaze unwavering as you meet his eyes.

For a moment, something shifts in his expression—a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "I see," he murmurs, his voice lower now. "Then show me. Show me how you would wield it to defend yourself." Though puzzled by his request, you reach for the dagger and position it as you would in a moment of self-defense, your stance steady and deliberate. His eyes follow your movements with a keen focus, his lips curving into a faint, almost approving smile as he observes your resolve.

"You’re holding it incorrectly," he says, taking your hands, still clutching the dagger, and guiding them to a precise spot on the left side of his chest. "Here. Strike here on any opponent—more than once, if need be—and you’ll increase your chances of survival," he instructs, his voice steady, his grip firm but not overbearing.

You had never considered the necessity of knowing how to fight; before Acacius, your late husband had always been there to shield you. But now, an unsettling vulnerability lingers, heavy and unshakable.

"You place too much trust in me," you murmur, your gaze locked with his. "I could hurt you with this dagger right now."

His lips curl into a faint, genuine smile, weak but without hesitation. "Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if you did," Hanno replies, the tension between you thickening.

You drop the dagger back to its place, snapping yourself out of the moment. "Turn around. I need to apply an herbal salve to the wound on your back so I can retire to my quarters. It has been a long day," you instruct, watching as he complies without protest. His physique, sculpted as one would expect of a gladiator, does not escape your notice. But before your thoughts can wander too far, you refocus, applying the salve with care. He grunts softly at the touch, his pain audible but restrained.

"I could teach you how to defend yourself," Hanno murmurs as you finish tending to his wounds. Once done, he turns to face you, his expression expectant.

"Are you certain you wish to help me, knowing my loyalty lies with General Acacius?" you ask, genuine curiosity laced in your tone.

He lifts a hand to your face, his touch gentle as he caresses your cheek. "Something tells me you need help, and I want to offer it. General Acacius or not, this is about you," he emphasizes, pointing at you, "and me," he finishes, gesturing to himself.

You hesitate, uncertainty flickering in your eyes, but the sincerity in his gaze stirs something within you. Perhaps it would be wise to accept his offer. "Very well, gladiator," you reply, taking the hand that had touched your face and grazing it softly with your fingertips. "Teach me what you know, and I promise to mend you each time you require it."

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cckaisen · 9 months ago

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୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝓑𝓡𝓞𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓡 𝓕𝓤𝓒𝓚𝓔𝓡, sukuna ryomen !

boyfriend’s older brother!sukuna. while little bro yuji spits up his liquor in the bathroom, sukuna takes care of his girl, finally fucking her like she deserves.

ಇ. summary. sukuna brother au, fem reader, infidelity, yuji throws up so emeto. warning, manipulation, pussy slapping, biting, some predator/prey elements, size kink, dumbification, squirting, reader is intoxicated but aware, rough kuna but he switches up:3, regret/moral conflict, angst towards the end cuz ‘m a certified yapper. wc, 4.6k.

ಇ. note. been a whore for sukuna lately but i fully blame gege for drawing him so majestic. if evil then why gorgeous, hm??? we’re onto u gege. we know u love a felon. confess already.

the door to the itadori household bursts open and in floods a typhoon of drunken chaos and laughter.

drowning in giggles, yuji has his arm thrown over your aching shoulders, humming along to some kind of song. without you, he wouldn't be upright—a jumbling, intoxicated mess.

you're mostly sober, fighting to get him to the bathroom since he was heaving in the taxi.

"whyyy do ya build me upp~" he slurs, a bumbling flurried version of himself, smothering your cheek in wet kisses that have you wriggling away. "butterrrcuppp baby, jus' t'let me downnn...!"

"yuji!" you shriek, the weight of him growing more unbearable as you try to keep him up. his breath is drenched with the heavy scent of liquor. "baby, y'gotta focus or we're not gonna make it to the—"

"—and mess m'rounddd!"

"yuji—'nuff!" you groan loudly as he drapes himself over. at this rate, you might just collapse into a heap on the floor, overcome by his weight as well as the lesser, still relevant amount of alcohol you consumed at the club.

suddenly, the patter of footsteps have you perking up. sukuna—yuji's big brother—rounds the corner, gaunt features sharp with agitation. he must've woken up when the two of you came barreling in.

"sukuna—hi," you can't help the relief that bursts through your chest, evident in the way you exhale.

sukuna notes the way your knees tremble, his brother blabbering embarrassingly on top of you. he puts aside the urge to laugh, figuring he'd spare you just this once.

"here. i got 'im." without any trouble, sukuna drags his little brother under his arm, putting your strength to shame. with the weight lifted, you finally have chance to relax, rolling your arm and letting out a loud sigh of relief.

"thank you. ow—pain."

you stumble, and the broader of the two brothers chuckles, crimson gaze soaking up your body in that dress while you're distracted. "you carried him all the way home?"

"mhm. practically sprawled out on my lap in the taxi. the driver and i had to team up to get him outta there," you whine as you kick off your heels. those stupid things had you wincing terribly most of the night. yuji said they were sexy. as much as you love him, you’re more than sure you will not be wearing them again anytime soon.

"you should've called me." sukuna's features scrunch in disgust as yuji keeps singing in his hold.

"i-i-i neeeeed youu~"

"fuckin' a, did he drink the whole bar?"

"pretty much," you reply, shrugging off your coat and following behind the pair of brothers. yuji looks so funny, almost small despite his lean stature, looking deceivingly short compared to sukuna. "he made a bet with todo and lost."

the sober man grunts as he knocks open the bathroom door, holding up yuji in his other arm. his muscles flex underneath his shirt, stretching the dark cotton, where your eyes briefly linger.

you avert your attention to yuji instead, amusement melting into concern for your boyfriend.

not sharing the same sentiment, sukuna drops him down by the toilet, putting up the lid with a smack and purposely shoving yuji's head into the bowl a little harder than necessary. "theree ya go, dumbass," sukuna grunts, slapping his back as he finally pukes up. "just barely made it."

and you're sure glad he did, thanking the gods your dress had been spared amidst the drama. with the way he'd been acting, you were never sure that you would be safe from the bile climbing his throat, cringing fearfully at times.

you feel much better now that sukuna has taken over. he's older, well-versed in trivial matters like this. yuji's already told you all about his university days, the drunken nights, the fighting—

you curse your thoughts for sprawling so suddenly, shooing off your rodent-like curiosity.

their relationship struggled at times. especially so back then, but things are different now. and as much as sukuna pretends not to care for his little brother, he clearly does, at least a little. after all, the pink tresses of your boyfriends hair are ruffled in his thick hand before he lets go fully.

then sukuna walks on in a rugged stride, leaving yuji to it. on the way out, he knocks your shoulder with his. you can't tell if the action was playful, but you’re sure it wasn't hostile, at least. a little smile creeps onto your lips as your gaze follows him into the kitchen.

sukuna is weird.

he's weird because he's not like yuji in most ways; it's not necessarily a bad thing, but he's much, much harder to see through. with your boyfriend, most things are crystal clear. you can tell what he wants, what he needs, how he needs it. he'll tell you all about it—unselfishly, of course.

however, sukuna, you find, never reads so easily. and it's weird. you can't tell if you prefer it that way, or if you'd rather know what he's thinking.

especially since you're certain you just caught his eyes slithering along your curves.

anyway.

wanting to give yuji some privacy, you pull the door shut, the sound of his gags growing muffled. you half-jog-half-limp to the kitchen, preparing a glass of cold water to ease his throat once it's all over.

unbothered, sukuna leans his back against the counter, scrolling on his phone like this is just another night to him. it's weird.

you start wondering, drawing up the conclusion that this might be first time you and him have ever been alone, in a way. yuji is there, but not really, if you know what i mean. not mentally, anyway.

before you can finish that thought, you deliver the glass to yuji, crouching down to his level and rubbing his back with careful affection. "got you some water, baby. right here, by your hand." you take it gently, guiding it towards the glass.

he's not throwing up so much now, just laying there, waiting for the next wave of nausea to crash over him. his fingers respond to the glass, wrapping around it. "thanks, hic—y're so good t'me..."

you smile warmly, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek. you couldn't care less that he reeks of all kinds of concoctions and puke all rolled up together, wanting to be there for him regardless as you know he would for you.

you whisper a few more reassuring words to him before taking your leave, giving him some time to recover by himself. the bathroom door clicks shut. forgetting all about the third party, you let your back press against it, head jilting as a sigh slips out.

"he worn ya down that much?" sukuna snorts at the display, looking up from his phone.

despite your initial surprise, you laugh too. "he doesn't usually. it's just... been a busy night, i guess. i think he'll pass out in there."

sukuna briefly dips his head into the fridge, getting out a chartreuse-tinted bottle of something. "one would hope. you want one?"

"you're being weirdly nice." you blurt suspiciously, smirking. oh god. maybe the alcohol was starting to work you over, too, because you definitely weren't supposed to say that. sometimes it's better not to ask, someone told you once.

sukuna pulls a face that makes you wish you could crawl out of your skin on command, even though there's technically logic behind your last words.

"am i usually mean?"

"n-no, i just mean—" fuck, stop talking. with growing embarrassment, you shake your head, "nothing. sorry. that was assumptive."

the way you initially scrambled to answer appealed to some wicked humor in him as he laughed. "yeah, it was. so yes or no?"

"yes," you sigh, shoulders slumping in admission, knowing you probably needed it. especially after whatever that was. your head is pounding—god, someone should put me down.

sukuna opens up your bottle with his teeth as you hop up on the counter, watching each other. all had gone quiet behind you. sukuna handed you the drink with the lid still between his teeth, venom swirling in his eyes when he saw the way yours lingered on the gesture.

slowly, you took the bottle, pressing the rim up to your lips before taking a sip. it bubbles in your mouth, sparkling on your tongue before you swallow it down. the burn is a little unpleasant, but you manage.

"any good?" sukuna asks.

"'s okay," you shrug, reading the bottle, pretending like any of it made sense. "a little bitter."

"you like 'em sweet?" the taller man frowns, sorting through the cupboards for something that you're too immersed to ask about.

"kinda. but too much makes me sick," you explain, scrunching your nose at the thought. "i like a balance."

"oh, really?" sukuna snorts as if you've just said the funniest thing in the world.

in one confused motion, you lower your brows. and jilt your head, wondering what's with the sudden jest. "yeah, uh... is that funny?"

sukuna raises his brows, shaking his head, some glasses clinking. "no, not funny. nothin's funny."

he really knows how to make a person feel small, you'd give him that much.

you avert your gaze, heart crawling up into your cheeks. "okay, well..."

"what about you?" he interjects, sparking up another tiny bit of annoyance in you again. not that you knew what you were gonna say anyways. it most likely would've been embarrassing anyway, making you shrink even more, wanting yuji to come out already—

"what about me?" you wonder, your voice meeker than before. curious and cautious, tip-toeing around his words. is there something you're hiding?

"are you the sticking-around or screwing-around type?"

"oh, right," you laugh, making sense of his question. it's big one, though. kind of sprung on you. still, you manage to respond, just telling him what you know while glowing with intoxication, "well, we've only been going out a couple months."

you're more focused on the way he's watching you than you are on actually answering. his eyes are sharp and torrid in comparison to his little brother's, and the way he gazes down rather than looks at you has something in you stirring, writihing hotly beneath your skin.

it's exciting. why is it exciting? there's a giddiness that gyres in the pit of your gut like a ballerina, pirouettes and grands jetés, heat cooking and simmering through your veins. it's terrible. it's weird.

"well, you can't blame me for being protective." sukuna shrugs. "he seems to really like you."

while what he's saying rings true, there's a chord slightly off-key, something askew that you can't place. is he closer than before?

you ignore it, trying on a smile. "well, feeling's mutual."

you take another sip from the bottle, the cool rim settling on your lips, sparks igniting on your tongue, the same routine replaying. you don't even think before adding gleefully, "and he's like, a jazillion times more sane than my last boyfriend, so i'm happy."

"are you?" sukuna asks, serious.

it was like flipping a switch. he was laughing, now he's earnest, and you were just entirely confused, his meaning lost on you, like you're the last in line in a game of chinese whispers. he caught you off guard with that one. and he knows it, too, carmine eyes feasting on your discomfort.

your smile falters slightly before you nod. "yeah."

"okay." he just says.

now you were really starting to get pissed off with him. whatever he's doing, it's stupid. he might as well have you cornered, except you've done nothing wrong, and yet he's prancing around you with a tone of prolific doubt. as if he knows something about you that you yourself don't.

"what?" you demand, equally serious now, smile wiped clean off. the air turns thick.

sukuna shrugs his shoulders again and you swear you have to fight off a sneer. "nothing."

is he casting doubt on your love for yuji? is that what this is? is he trying to tell you you're not good enough for him? that even though you trudged half a mile in those huge stupid heels just because he said they looked hot on you—carrying his dead weight, might i add, as he was screeching a song you'd never heard in your ear—that all of that was just for laughs, and there were no real feelings behind those actions? is that seriously what he's getting at?

sukuna wants to laugh so bad. your face is all screwed up, cheeks puffed out and burning a deep red. oh, how it fuels him. your stubbornness, that endearing naivety that clings to you like all your modest perfumes, the one that lingers in yuji's room, occasionally in his clothes, infecting every dark corner of his mind—and now you know how it feels to be tortured by him.

"you want some water?" the man asks casually. your mind is on fire, your thoughts more blaring than you would probably think. it's written all over you.

his question makes your shoulders drop, feeling stupid all over again. what are you getting so worked up for? you're secure in your feelings for yuji. as his brother, sukuna has every right to feel concern for him. there really is no need for you to be acting like this.

he's playing you like a damn flute.

"yes, please." you answer a lot more softly, pulling your hair around to one side. you'd been bratty without cause, assumptive, again. you really need to stop mischaracterizing him. after all, he's no monster. "i think all the drinks are finally getting to my head a little."

he starts filling up a glass, grinning at you over his shoulder, mischief playing in his slanted-eyes. "oh, don't tell me you were expecting anything bottled. tap's the best y're gonna get from us. hope you can handle it."

a smile works onto your lips as you finally start to loosen up again, legs swinging gently off the side of the counter. playing along, you wince. "oh yeah, well, i usually only drink expensive, you know, mineral-rich—"

"yeah."

he's suddenly between your legs, his mouth devouring your own, swallowing the terrified noise that begs to escape. for a moment, you're frozen in shock, eyes widening as you palms meet his chest in a forceful attempt at creating space.

sukuna juts back, forced away from you. his eyes crack open but are still like slits, dark, crawling with lust you hadn't previously noticed—no, acknowledged, because the choice has always been there.

he relishes in the terror that brims in your eyes at his visceral kiss. it feels natural, but not in the tender, motherly sense. like predator devouring prey. the natural order of life.

his hands are hot, gripping onto your thighs, digging into the tights he could easily rip to shreds, giving him full access to your warm cunt, to ruin you.

and yet he doesn't.

he waits for your eyes to droop, for you to lunge at him, accepting this twisted spiral of events, indulging his darkness. teeth clicking, tongues meeting messily in a sloppy kiss, drool gathering between you both as you crash together all at once, a train wreck of carnality. sukuna's hands are all over you, groping, slashing at the crotch of your tights. you gasp into his mouth as cold air meets the sobbing wetness of your cunt, followed by a slap to it.

"f-fuck! hey, who said you could—hmff!" you yelp as his hand clamps over your mouth suddenly, his scarlet eyes narrowing.

"brat, watch ya fuckin' mouth." sukuna warns as you grapple with him. his tattoos look especially menacing then, chiseling his features. "he's drunk. not deaf."

you nod, trying to tell him you understand. he releases your lips in an instant only to seize them again in his so forcefully.

yuji would never—could never take you like this, and you fucking know it. you know it with every gnaw, every squash of your tits that leaves you whining like a bitch in heat, every bite against your neck where you can feel the outline of his brother's teeth and a short gush of crimson.

rationality is lost on you as you mindlessly rut against him, your hands running up and down his back until you start tugging on his pants, eager to rid him of them.

meanwhile, sukuna's making a meal out of you—you make up half of his size, giving him complete control to do as ever he pleases.

every whine is met with a grunt. his cock must have been freed at some point as you feel his greedy hands lift you against him, your chests meeting, the sharp cold of the counter leaving your ass and feeling his palms spread you apart instead.

nothing could prepare you for the suddenness of which he fills you—you scream, half openly, half having shoved your face into his shoulder—aware his brother, your lover, is passed out over the toilet in the other room.

"shh, shh—fuckin' shit!" sukuna groans, features curling in erotic bliss.

he gluts you in ways yuji never has, the ways he'll never dare—with such cruel, carnal demand, to the brim, unkind, violent, and so, so fucking good.

as he breaches your womb, you claw his back raw through his shirt. a sob rips through you. sukuna does his best to keep you quiet. "shh... fuck. yer so fuckin' tight, girl. relax."

"t-tryin'... 'm so full..." you whine, eyes misting over with tears. it feels too good, you think...

"i know—" sukuna chokes, barely lifting you up on his cock, feeling your walls spasm around him. "fuck, what ya cryin' for?"

he feels too good.

"d-don't move yet, i'll cum," you gasp, and he hasn't even tried—sukuna's expression blanches.

"already?" he bursts out laughing in his brutish way, the side that yuji lacked entirely as the nicest person you've ever known; fuck. the humiliation makes your cunt squeeze again.

he lifts you up, your knees draped over his thick arms, foreheads meeting. your breaths intertwine, hot and treacherous, caressing each other's faces.

"ya know, i've fuckin' heard you, all those times."

"wh-what?" you stammer cluelessly, only half there, clinging to sukuna as he dangles you on his cock, your eyes crossing when he starts to bounce you on him.

"said i fuckin' heard you, you 'n yuji—'n shit, ya never got this loud, huh?" he smirks wickedly, feeling your body collapse hopelessly against him. he fucks you up and down on him, swallowing up your pathetic moans and whines like they were the last noise he'd ever hear. "been wanting to take ya like this, stretch yer dumb little cunt on me, fuckk—ya got no fuckin' idea, princess."

rocking up and down, you wail, head bobbing. sukuna can just see your little maw dangling open—it takes everything in him not to jam his fucking fingers in your throat until you drool and splutter around him.

"y—you wanted—this?" you struggle, feeling too good to make sense of anything, to think straight, to do anything other than take every rough kiss to your cervix, feeling your insides bruise and swell with lucid excitements.

"lemme guess, the brat cums too soon—never quite gets ya there, hm?" sukuna guesses correctly, making you whine and nod and babble.

"h-how did y—ah, fuck—!" he snapped his hips, picking up the speed as you wept on him. you'd never been fucked like this in your life, and your world was getting flipped on its head. when did your dress come down? you weren't sure—but now your tits were bouncing and sukuna wasn't gonna pass up the opportunity to tear into them.

"cuz, 's just obvious," sukuna rasps, teeth clamping down on your raised nipple, "can tell this sloppy pussy ain't gettin' treated right. not when she's—shit—creamin' all over me jus' from stickin' it in."

"'k—kuna, don't—ahh! fuck!"

"that's it girl, shit, c'mon," sukuna keeps picking you back up only to drop all your weight on his fat cock, his balls slapping against your ass, the slick you're gushing causing them to stick together.

your head is empty, devoid of anything except the chaos, the suddenness of it all, the shock, he's fucking you. your boyfriend's older brother is fucking you, and you've never felt so goddamn good.

there's this sudden wave. a wetness. an explosive feeling that crashes over you in one swift, predatory pounce. like when a deer gets suddenly ripped apart. your head straight up drops on sukuna's shoulder, and you're sobbing loudly, babbling words that can't be defined.

then all of a sudden, sukuna outright cackles; the sound bleeds into your ringing ears, head picking up off of his shoulder.

"no fuckin' way!" he roars with laughter. you wanna shush him, but you can't move—your nerve ends are all bursting to life, like fruitful grapes popping between two fingers. it's happening again, whatever that feeling is, whelming you; this time you his fingers rub back and forth harshly across your clit, but wait—

"dumb lil pussy's squirtin' already, hahh, shit—fuckin' christ, girl—" he's enamored, watching you cum in adorable little spurts, soaking his clothes, your tights, and the kitchen floor, covering everything in your stupid juices.

"you wanted this, goddamn—look at you."

your eyes are rolled back as he kisses you again, fingers tearing into your scalp, the lewd sound of your lips smacking together filling the air.

never in your fucking life. you'd never came like that, so violently, so carelessly, not without really, really trying. all sukuna had to do was pump you up and down on his cock, say a few words and you were spraying like a tap. how fucking pathetic.

and then he does it again. drags another one out of you, laughing.

you barely catch his next words.

"'m gonna fuckin' cum in ya."

"n—no—" you stumble out, barely coming to at the words, but their enough to fill you with at least some urgency. your ass is bruised at the back from being repeatedly slammed against the counter, the wind knocked out of you entirely. "d-don't, wait, you can't—"

"why the fuck not, hah?" sukuna rumbles. "don't tell me it's cuz'a—"

"—yuji," you sob.

it hits you. it hits you then, hard, at the worst time. a gut-punch, one that makes you heave. in less than half a second, a guilt strong enough to set your skin alight cultivates and wrecks each single sense. his cologne invades your nostrils, an imaginary sensation, forced to breathe its natural, tender nature as opposed to sukuna's harsh and crude and brooding one, the one you're drowning in. the one sticking to your skin.

your hand—finally letting go of sukuna's shoulder, where you were keeping yourself stable—slaps over your mouth, tears springing into your eyes.

"f—fuck, fuck, fuck!" sukuna chants, eyes scrunching as he gets lost in the pleasure. he's pounding you, knocking your eyes back still, not slowing his pace for anything. your leg flails once, but how can you fight when he's holding you up like this?

"'s—'kuna," you choke out brokenly, slapping his chest with whatever strength you can muster. your lip quivers, heart aching in your chest as you plead tearfully, "don't."

he'd never been considerate. he'd never 'made love'. not even now. he fucked. he lied, he slipped off condoms, he 'forgot' to pull out, all so many times before. it was clockwork to him. he could've easily done it again. lied. been selfish. blurred the lines. cheated consent.

put a baby in his little brother's whore girlfriend.

and yet sukuna weirdly found himself pulling out of you last second, one hand holding you up while the other jerked his cock until thick ropes of cum splattered up your dress with a strained grunt. his orgasm spoils at it hits, a rough ecstasy that's tattered along the edges and ultimately, ultimately unsatisfying. it barely scratches the surface. the heat of it hasn't even started leaving his body before he wants more, regrets not filling you up, every cell inside him clawing for it, starved and fucking addicted.

sukuna almost, almost crushes you against the island, dropping you on the counter again where your drenched cunt feels like it's been electrocuted when met with the cold so suddenly. you gasp, arching into him, searching for any kind of warmth.

but he rips away from you, turning his back. his touch is gone as soon as it came. any desire flatlines, ringing loudly, blaring in your sensitive ears. alarm bells.

what is this?

both your chests are heaving. there's no afterglow. it's messy, dirty, frantic. cheap. depraved.

and it seems like you aren't the only one.

"s-sukuna, i—"

CLICK.

lips snapping shut, you sit right up, head whipping around in the most deafeningly guilty sense ever. heart in your throat, your expression echoes one of pure horror, one you expect will reflect your boyfriend's when he realizes what's going on here.

yuji stumbles out of the bathroom, his mop of pink hair tousled and eyelids low. he hangs by the doorframe for several seconds, his head dropped, not even looking up. it takes only a few steps. they're slow, clumsy, lead him to the bedroom door. he doesn't notice. he doesn't notice.

his older brother and his girlfriend are feet away, covered in squirt and sperm and other dirty secrets. shame. guilt. some more than others.

and he just blunders into the bedroom, a loud 'thump', telling you that he made it to bed.

all you do is stare. your jaw stays slack.

you hear a zipper and, frazzled, quickly flit your head at sukuna. he's fixing his clothes, not paying you any mind.

you stare at his back, despairing.

"wh—you're just gonna...?" you stammer incredulously, trying to do the same but there's no fixing the gaping hole in your tights that reaches down to your mid thighs.

away from his gaze, him cum settles against the fabric of your torn up dress, pooling slowly in its place.

his cock, hardly soft, twitches again, urging his need. he ends up frozen for a moment, simply staring, before he numbly moves forward.

he leaves, leaving you sat on the counter as he storms out into the night, slamming the front door behind him.

you're alone there, stunned, cum up your dress that is almost but not quite your boyfriend's, the floor below you soaked, and a heartbeat in every part of your body.

trembling, you push yourself off of the counter.

vaguely aware of the layout of the house, you scramble to find some wipes and clean up the mess on the floor. after that, it takes at least 10 minutes to get the semen out of your dress, but even then, you feel filthy.

you sniffle over the sink, scrubbing soapy suds into your tainted skin. wanting to throw up.

what the fuck had you done?

you'd cheated. that's it. you cheated on the sweetest angel, your angel, yuji. the one entirely too gentle and trusting for this world. you betrayed him. a sob rips through you, shattering your core.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

as you sneak back into bed, fingers still shaking as they turn the handle to yuji's room, you don't even have the energy to change your clothes. you simply crawl into bed, too crushed to face him, not garnering the strength, knowing what you'd done. a tear slips down your cheek.

because you can't even regret it.

and before you know it, yuji's draping himself over you, his arms, pulling you against the haven of his chest, sighing against your neck.

"you made it..." he mumbles.

oh, how you want to sob when he says such a thing. "yeah," you nod, trying to suppress the break in your voice, "yeah, i'm here."

yuji grunts happily, snuggling you closer. "mmh, good."

you don't think you will ever forgive yourself.

"i love you." yuji says, blind to the truth.

but you swear it's not one-sided. "i love you," you admit, beginning to cry softly in his arms, wondering if it will be the last time you ever get the liberty of doing so again.

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saphig-iawn · 2 months ago

Text

Stuffing and String

Something I ask of my subjects and dolls is to think of a little safe space in their mind for the spells I weave in them. I've heard so many different spaces from them, like a heart shaped box, a deck of cards, even a wind-up dancer on a music box.

My subject today had envisioned this safe space as a ragdoll of her, with every new spell a bow I would tie in her hair.

But this got her thinking. Thinking got her feeling. Feeling got her aroused. The idea of a plush ragdoll version of her sat amongst her plushies had her feeling overcome with excitement.

Today was her day to become that ragdoll.

She sank deeply into trance, landing softly in my lap.

It was there that I began to weave the spell in her, gentle threading the sensations of transforming into doll within every part of her.

It starts at her feet, like thick woolly socks are being put on her feet and rolled up. The feeling rolls higher and higher, and as it climbs, she feels the strength in her muscles just melt away as her muscles get spun into soft stuffing.

Up past her hips, her intimate area becoming nothing but a soft plushie bulge. Her stomach becomes full of warmth and giggles as her skin turns to string and her muscles into stuffing.

Then her fingers draw together, like big thick mittens are being put on. Much like with her feet, the feeling climbs, her arms become so limp and loose, barely able to move.

The feelings converge on her chest, her breasts padding out with a little extra stuffing, before climb up her neck.

All the words in her throat unspool until there's nothing left but gentle hums. Then her neck softs leaving her head to rest wherever it can.

It climbs up the back of her head, her hair uncoiling into colourful yarn.

Then finally it reaches her face.

Her lips become embroidered into a permanent smile.

Her eyes become pretty buttons.

In her mind, a brand new bow appeared in her dolly's hair.

After the trance and a little aftercare, I spoke the spell and she went limp instantly. Her giggles became soft hums as I talked to her. I can forgive her for the one-sided conversation.

But being nothing but stuffing and string made her plush bulge ache with need, so I reversed the spell and gave her permission to play.

She was nearing that wonderful climax but suddenly found all the strength leave her body as the spell left my lips.

She hummed in sweet frustration at my denial.

So I reversed the spell and urged her to continue.

She just about to tumble over that edge into bliss and- oops! Nothing but stuffing and string again.

I asked if she wanted to climax, if she wanted to collapse into pleasure.

She hummed affirmatively.

"Well go on then", I sneered.

Her helpless hum was something I wish I could've bottled up because you could taste the frustration.

After her climax, after she was all spent and cared for, we ended our session with something a little special.

There was an extra element to her spell which was that she could be left to fall asleep as a ragdoll, and upon waking up would feel bright and fresh and returned to normal.

So our session ended with me reading to her some of my new pieces, while she could do nothing but lie on her bed, surrounded by her plushies, with nothing but a beaming smile embroidered on her face.

#saphiposting #mtf dom #hypnosis k!nk #hypnosis #hypnok1nk #erotichypnosis #inanimate tf #inanimate transformation #trance #queue #saphi's sessions #doll tf #dollification #hypno doll #plushification #plush tf #plushie tf

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omgkatherine01 · 6 days ago

Note

Can you please do Sergei surprises female reader in the shower and they began to have hot shower sex? Ty

Steam and Surprise

Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x Fem!reader

Note: Short, sorry! And the gif is just... I had to put it in lol

Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)

The warm water cascaded over your skin as you let out a contented sigh, washing away the stresses of the day. Lost in thought, you didn't hear the bathroom door quietly open. Suddenly, strong arms encircled your waist from behind and you let out a startled gasp.

"Shh, it's just me, my love," Sergei's deep, accented voice murmured in your ear. His muscular form pressed against your back as he nuzzled your neck.

"Sergei! You scared me," you exclaimed, turning to face him. Water droplets clung to his tanned skin and dark hair as he gazed at you with those intense hazel eyes.

"I couldn't resist surprising my beautiful девушка," he purred, cupping your face in his large, calloused hands. His thumbs traced your cheekbones as he let his lips gently against yours. The kiss was warm and tender, a soothing balm that melted away the last remnants of your surprise.

"You always know how to make an entrance," you teased, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. A playful smile danced on your lips, and you could see the corner of his mouth twitch with amusement.

Sergei chuckled softly, his breath mingling with the steam rising from the shower. "You know how much I love it when you’re surprised," he said, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. His fingers slipped down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was scarcely any space left between your bodies. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, mixing with the heat of the water.

Your breath hitched as Sergei's hands roamed lower, caressing your curves. His lips found yours again in a deeper, more passionate kiss. You tangled your fingers in his wet hair, pulling him closer as the water continued to cascade over your entwined bodies.

Sergei backed you against the cool tile wall, his muscular form pressing you firmly against it. His lips trailed hot kisses down your neck as his hands cupped your breasts, thumbs circling teasingly. You arched into his touch with a soft moan.

"Sergei, please," you whimpered, overcome with desire.

He growled low in his throat, lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he entered you in one smooth motion. You cried out in pleasure, clinging to his broad shoulders.

The sensation overwhelmed you, each thrust drawing you deeper into an ecstasy that blurred the lines of reality. The soft rush of water became a backdrop to your shared rhythm, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in Sergei's embrace. His powerful frame held you effortlessly, every movement intentional and filled with a raw passion that ignited every nerve ending.

"Do you feel that?" he murmured against your ear, his breath hot and heavy. "This is ours--just us."

You nodded, unable to form words, the pleasure coursing through you stealing your breath away. His eyes bore into yours, fierce and protective, as if he were guarding this moment against any intruding thought or doubt. He was a force of nature, and in this steamy sanctuary, it felt as though nothing could touch you.

With each thrust, Sergei pushed you closer to the brink, and your body responded eagerly, arching towards him in desperate need. You could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter with each powerful movement, an electric pulse that threatened to spill over.

"Let go," he urged, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "Just feel."

His hands gripped your hips, guiding your body as you moved together in perfect harmony, the water cascading around you like a veil of warmth and intimacy. Your breaths mingled, each gasp and moan echoing off the tiled walls, creating a symphony of passion.

As you felt the wave of pleasure cresting, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent--earthy and wild. The world faded even further; it was just you and him in this moment, suspended in time. With each thrust, he drew you closer to the edge where exhilaration met bliss.

"Let me hear you," Sergei murmured, his tone commanding yet tender. His hands tightened around you as if he were trying to anchor you to him, to this moment. The pressure inside you swelled, a tidal wave ready to crash.

You gasped his name, a plea and a promise rolled into one. "Sergei," you breathed, the syllables trembling on your lips.

"Good," he encouraged, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated against your skin. "Let it go."

With one final thrust, the world exploded around you--the heat of the water, the hardness of the tiles, and the strength of Sergei wrapped around you like a cocoon. You cried out, a sound filled with pure abandon as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Each pulse sent shockwaves through your body, each soft whimper mingling with the sound of rushing water.

Sergei’s grip on your hips didn’t falter; he held you tight, guiding you through the storm of pleasure. His own breath quickened as he chased his own release, eyes locked onto yours, his expression fierce and filled with unrestrained need. The moment stretched endlessly, a sweet eternity as you both rode the crest of bliss together.

With one last surge, he surrendered to the waves that crashed over him, his body tensing as he filled you completely. You felt the warmth spread between you, mingling with the hot water cascading down your bodies, creating a cocoon of sensation that enveloped you both.

As the storm began to settle, Sergei’s grip loosened slightly, but he didn’t let you go entirely. Instead, he held you close against him, his heart pounding in rhythm with yours. The sound of the water continued to cascade around you, a gentle reminder of the world outside this intimate bubble.

You gently placed your hands on his cheeks, guiding his gaze to meet yours before leaning forward and pressing your lips against his gently, tasting the saltiness of your shared passion mixed with the warmth of the water. Sergei's eyes softened, and he responded with a kiss that was both tender and possessive, a silent promise that this moment would linger long after the steam had dissipated.

#kraven the hunter #kraven smut #kraven oneshot #kraven x reader #kraven x you #kraven movie #sergei kravinoff #sergei kravinoff x reader #aaron taylor johnson #one shot

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year ago

Text

play wresting — gojo satoru.

(Warning for mild not sfw implications)

“So this is it, then? I’ve finally… finally been bested.”

From this vantage point, you tower over a certain melodramatic man, whose long limbs cover the king sized bed at awkward angles. His soft, snowy hair blends in with the stark white comforter. He tries lifting himself up, but his arms buckle from the exertion of such a physically demanding act. The feigned helplessness comes close to breaking your composure.

“Humor a dying man’s final request,” Gojo rasps. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just after the money and status all along?”

The term money and status reverberates in your head, taking you back to the rumors whispered behind closed doors by those opposed to your engagement. Gojo, being the person he is, delighted in playing into your supposed alternative motives whenever a ‘well-intentioned’ member of the more conservative factions tried tipping him off.

“Babe? Did you hear that?” He had called you over once, a hand to his chest, as if he’d learned the most scandalous news. “This man here said you’re only after my assets. Is this true? I thought for sure it was my devastatingly good looks and charm that won you over.”

(The face of the man in question went beet red over how loud Gojo spoke these words. Unsurprisingly, he slunk off at the earliest opportunity).

You try assuming your role as the indifferent black widow here, looking down your nose at him. “Nope. I’ve been biding my time all these years.”

You’re not sure what spurred him on to flex his acting muscles. When you entered the room, you were overcome with the urge to tackle him onto the bed. You’ve both loved roughhousing each other since you were in high school. Given the sheer, unfathomable extent of Gojo’s abilities, he was perfectly capable of dodging you or standing firm against your attempts. Alas, those two options must not have interested him.

And so he’s writhing in faux agony, putting on a show, as he is wont to do.

“Do I get any final requests?”

“Hm,” you hum, fighting how desperately your lips wish to curl into a smile, “That depends. What is it?”

Whatever he murmurs next is unintelligible.

Curious, you step forward, urging him to repeat himself. He does. Despite speaking slightly louder, the syllables and consonants blur together, spoken in such rapid succession that your brain can’t piece it together. You draw close enough for your knees to hit the side of the bed. Whatever he’s planning, this must be the grand finale.

This time, you understand him perfectly fine. You don’t know whether you should laugh or roll your eyes. Perhaps both.

“Let me hit it, just one more time,” Gojo says these words as if in actual pain, successfully melting your apathetic facade.

You can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves over the fact you broke first. Not willing to accept total defeat, you huff and pivot on your heels. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you saunter toward the door. You answer the question that’s undoubtedly burning his tongue before he can speak it.

“Consider your request denied. I need to start searching for my next rich husband — time is of the essence.”

You gape as the once open door is now shut, faster than you could blink. In front of it is your apparently resuscitated Gojo Satoru, who acts as a human barricade. He extends his long arms out to ensure you’re not going anywhere. His grin is all teeth and his brilliant blue eyes gleam.

“Sorry babe, this rich husband’s still alive and kicking. Better luck next time.”

#an anon requested play wrestling with gojo and blade #but i love that concept so much i'll do a lil scenario for those currently in my Husband Rotation #starting with the white-haired menace #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo brainrot #my stuff

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cher-rei · 5 months ago

Note

He takes care of you when you’re sick and over work from having work over time all week. He’s there for you

lovesick– jamal musiala [ J.M ]

you're my sunlight on a rainy day [305– shawn mendes]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: being sick isn't so bad when you have jamal by your side.

genre(s): f.l.u.f.f and comfort

[w.c: 1.9k] masterlist

notes: I have risen!!!

jamal was supposed to be in training by now, preparing for his match in a few days. but instead, he found himself sitting beside you in bed, staring at you with a pout as you bundled up further into your blankets.

the sight of your sunken eyes and flushed face made his heart ache enough to block out your desperate pleas for him to leave for practice. when you woke up it already took him ten minutes to convince you to cancel on your lectures today, but this was plainly burdensome.

you'd been pushing yourself a lot harder than you'd like to admit these past few weeks. late-night study sessions, early morning lectures, and your part time job had completely ruined you. but you didn't think that it would end up like this, it was just much as a surprise to you.

you'd never experience more than aching muscles and a migraine due to overexertion but your boyfriend was having none of it. he was sick and tired of seeing you drag yourself through the front door in the evening and barely manage to eat before bed. until now.

you were paying the price, fighting back your supper from the night before and a sniffling and coughing mess. your eyes being enough of a telltale that your body was giving up on you. jamal tried to convince you to take it easy, but you insisted on soldiering on.

that was when he took matters into his own hands and declared himself your personal nurse for the day— or however long you needed.

"jamal, please just go to practice," you urged your boyfriend and gently nudged his hand away. "I'll be fine I promise."

your retort was enough to make him laugh but he was smarter than that. "and leave you alone so that you can drag yourself into the lounge and study?" he quirked a challenging brow and got up from the bed, the look on your face telling him all he needed to know. "yeah, that's what I thought."

an irritated groan left your lips and you flopped back down onto your pillow, the harsh movement sending your head into a spiral as your vision blurred further. an unfamiliar churn in your stomach caused you to sit back up, one hand on your stomach and the other on your forehead.

in no time jamal was back— his training kit off and instead dressed in a pair of sweats and a plain t-shirt. a worried look was plastered on his face and he bent down to look you in the eye, the rim of tears forming causing him to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"come on baby, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" you took his hand as he led you to the bathroom where he ran you a hot bath, the comforting overflow of bubbles sending a feeling of warmth through your chest.

you were more likely to cry because of how thoughtful he was than your actual sickness. jamal had always been the one to make everything feel lighter, and he knew exactly how to ease your mind and drown your sickness and discomfort with his heartwarming laugh.

he was gentle in all he did— the way he soothingly massaged your shoulders as you sat in the bath, overcome with emotions at the touch of his hands on your back and hair as he massaged the shampoo in.

it made you forget. instead, you listened to your boyfriend talk about something that happened at practice the day before and the dream that he had about you, which had him mentally cursing his alarm clock for waking him up. for most it was difficult, but jamal could easily draw a laugh from your lips.

"am I getting paid for this?" he asked with a teasing smile, looking at your reflection in your vanity mirror as he dried your hair, his fingers gently tugging at your strands.

your nose scrunched at the question, a distasteful hum leaving your lips. "you're hilarious. it's been 3 hours, don't push it."

he simply shrugged and set the hairdryer down, letting you have the freedom to tie your hair up while he packed everything away. "I could have been on my 4th drill by now, I have a job you know?"

you snapped your head to look at him, your jaw dropped in disbelief. "you willingly stayed out today, don't even try this with me right now."

with an unsure hum he placed the last pillow on your shared bed. "technically, you gaslit me because why would I willingly want to stay at home with my girlfriend that i would literally die for?"

your heart skipped a beat at his teasing quip, watching as he walked up to you with his arms open for a hug. with no objection, you got up and melted into his embrace that had a content sigh heaving from your chest.

"stop being extra," you said, muffled into his chest.

"then stop getting sick, you idiot."

the rest of the day jamal was attentive as ever to the point where he wouldn't even let you lift a finger. he made sure you were comfortable on the sofa cuddled up to his side, his fingers gently playing with your hair and lulling you to sleep.

his attention was fixed on the television until he was sure that you were out cold. he took a moment to appreciate how cute you looked on his chest, your exhaustion showing in the way that you lightly snored. with a smile placed a soft kiss to your forehead and carefully got up.

he tucked you in further before leaving the house to head to the pharmacy for some medication and locked the door behind him. the second he stepped out into the driveway he was hit with a gush of wind that sent a chill through his body.

jamal lifted his head to look at the sky that was overwhelmed with dark grey clouds which meant that it was probably going to rain soon. not wanting to waste any time he made a beeline for the pharmacy in hopes that he'd beat the rain home.

unfortunately, that was not the case and due to the traffic to and from the pharmacy and the fact that there was no parking nearby the store he was drenched from head to toe. the wind fought him but he prevailed and made it back home before you woke up.

you didn't stay asleep long though and weren't too happy to find out that your boyfriend wasn't beside you on the sofa. you also happened to notice the droplets of water on the floor leading up to your bedroom.

"jamal?" you called out and wrapped the blanket tighter around your shoulders, skillfully dodging the wet spots on the stairs as you called out to your boyfriend who eventually responded.

you were met with the sight of jamal standing in the middle of your bedroom with his shirt off suggesting that he just got.out of the shower. "did you go out in the rain?"

your boyfriend stood silent for a moment, his lips parted as he averted his gaze. "I mean not technically." he shrugged his shoulders, hoping that you weren't mad at him. "it wasn't raining when I left."

"oh great, now you're going to be--" you stopped mid sentence to sneeze. "you're going to--" you sneezed again. not once. not twice. and definitely not thrice.

your body recoiled at the uncomfortable and violent force of the sneezes, jamal having nothing to do besides watch with an amused smile as he bit back his laughter.

when you were done with the fit of sneezes you stared at him blankly to recollect your composure.

"bless you, baby," he said with a cheeky smile. but the term of endearment didn't throw you off track and you were back to reprimanding him. jamal thought you were being dramatic and continued to get dressed, humming in agreement to your rambling.

"me being sick is one thing, but you?" you said and threw your hands into the air, the blanket flailing in the air. "you need to be healthy and you know better than to leave the house in the rain."

he took your hand and dragged you back downstairs to the kitchen. "it wasn't raining when I left, I told you." he looked back at you and you rolled your eyes, ready to protest. "my immune system is stronger than yours anyway."

he stopped in front of the kitchen island and put you on the counter with ease. "so please shut up." he unexpectedly pecked your lips, moving away to get the medicine before you could say anything.

"it's like you have a death wish!" you yelled in shock at the kiss.

jamal came back with a glass of water and a few tablets, handing them to you one by one and waiting until you drank them all. "as long as it's you, it's fine."

your face scrunched in slight disgust at the cheesy response. it was nothing new and it was a known fact that somehow jamal's cliché quips worked on you most of the time, but this was not one of them.

he pursed his lips in defeat at your reaction, getting the hint. "not the one?"

you shook your head and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "and it never will be. never say that again please."

he stifled a laugh and pecked your cheek. "noted."

the two of you stayed like that for a while, just catching up and relaxing in each other's presence. you weren't too keen on having jamal this close to you, but you were grateful for his stubbornness because you would have lost your mind without any form of physical contact.

"yeah and then--"

jamal was cut off by himself by none other than his worst nightmare. the sneeze had you both silent for a moment until you slapped his arm hard enough that he flinched, a pout forming on his lips.

you covered your face with your hands, a sigh leaving your lips. "what did I say? this is why you should listen to me."

jamal tried to argue back that it was just the dust in the air but the sneezes that followed after didn't help his case in any way. but hey, at least he'd be at home with you for a few days. he wasn't complaing at all.

your head began to ache at the thought of being stuck at home with jamal for the next few days, not because you didn't want to be around him, but because you knew how needy he was when he was sick. there wasn't a second where you weren't attached at the hip.

you opened up the blanket around your shoulders and pulled him into the warmth of your embrace. "now you're sick because of me, great."

jamal burried his face into your neck and smiled, the feeling of his lips trailing gentle kisses making you shiver. "oh yeah, I'm sick alright." he lifted his head to look at you with a puppy-like smile. "lovesick."

"get out of my face right now, I swear jamal--"

"so I can't love my girlfriend now?? is that it?"

#cherrei writes #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football imagine #fanfic #jamal musiala fanfic #jamal musiala x reader #jamal musiala #bayern munich x reader #bayern munich

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fafnir19 · 7 months ago

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Genie's lamp

Lex strolled along the cobblestone streets of the small coastal town, soaking in the salty breeze that whispered tales of the sea. His summer holidays had brought him here, seeking respite from the bustling city life and his studies that had consumed him for so long. As he wandered, a glint of light caught his eye, drawing him to a narrow side street where an ancient-looking shop stood, its wooden sign creaking in the wind. Intrigued, Lex pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped inside, the musty smell of old books and incense enveloping him. Shelves lined with peculiar artifacts and trinkets stretched out before him, each item holding a hint of mystery within its aged confines. "Welcome, young traveler," a voice called out, drawing Lex's attention to a figure behind the counter. Declan, the shop owner, stood before him, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Feel free to browse my collection. I must make a quick errand to the post office, but I'll return shortly." As Declan made his exit, Lex's curious gaze wandered over the shelves filled with curiosities from distant lands. His eyes landed on a tarnished Arabic lamp, its intricate designs whispering of tales untold.

As he lifted the lamp, a playful grin tugged at his lips, recalling childhood tales of genies and their whimsical magic. He rubbed the lamp absentmindedly, half-expecting nothing but a puff of dust to emerge. Lex's eyes widened in awe as he watched the ancient lamp in his hands start to emit wisps of smoke. His heart raced with excitement, a smile spreading across his face. The air crackled with energy as the smoke coalesced into a muscular figure, clad in black leather harem pants, standing with their back to him.

"Cool, a real genie! I already know what I will wish for! Ahm… what’s actually your name, genie?" Lex exclaimed, overcome with excitement. Turning slowly to face Lex, the genie's eyes gleamed with a potent mix of mischief and malevolence. "I am Jafar," the genie rumbled, his voice laced with authority "You will refer to me as Master, mere mortal." Confusion clouded Lex's features at the genie's command. "Master? What do you mean?" he spluttered, uncertainty tainting his tone. The genie's next words sent a shiver down Lex's spine. "Kneel before me and submit," Jafar commanded, his voice steely with power. Fear gripped Lex's heart, his instincts urging him to flee as he took a step back. With a shaky voice, he stammered, "I...I have to go." His heart raced as he made a break for the door. But before he could make it, an unseen force lifted him off the ground, tendrils of smoke enveloping him. Panic seized him as he felt himself turning to smoke, his very essence slipping away.

The laughter of the genie echoed around him as Lex found himself being pulled into the ancient lamp. Inside, the world shifted around him, his clothes transforming into exotic harem pants and golden rings adorning his limbs.

Panic surged through Lex as he pounded against the walls of the lamp, trying to break free from this strange and terrifying prison. Jafar, the genie, held the lamp nonchalantly, observing Lex's futile attempts with amusement.

"You're quite the spirited one, aren't you?" Jafar's voice dripped with malicious charm. "But fear not, the lamp's magic will soon calm you and make you more... impressionable." A strange calmness settled over Lex, his mind clouding with a soothing fog. "Relax, kneel," the genie's voice commanded, its tone both hypnotic and commanding. Filled with a strange sense of peace, Lex obeyed, his anxiety giving way to a bizarre sense of acceptance.

Lex's thoughts grew foggy, his will bending to the genie's influence. "It has always been your hidden desire to help others," Jafar purred. "What better way than to serve me?" Finding a strange sense of logic in the genie's words, Lex embraced the idea of serving.

Followed by the genie's revelations about Lex's yearning for confidence and independence hit uncomfortably close to home. "Your struggles stem from your desire to be strong, my dear Lex," Jafar continued, his voice a luring whisper. "You do not need to be strong yourself, but to walk in the shadow of greatness," Jafar's words resonated within Lex's soul. The genie continued, his voice like a hypnotic melody. "Simply follow a strong master, and you shall find your purpose." A revelation dawned upon Lex, a realization that perhaps he had been searching for guidance all along. Lex felt a strange sense of clarity wash over him and gratitude swelled in his chest as Jafar offered his help and guidance. So, Lex embraced the notion of relinquishing his independence and accepted willingly, to follow where the genie led with a newfound sense of purpose.

Jafar's words cut through the haze, revealing a truth about Lex that he had never acknowledged. "All your struggles stem from one simple truth you deny," Jafar's voice carried a weight of finality. "You are secretly gay, Lex." Lex's breath caught in his throat, his mind racing as he grappled with the unexpected revelation. Could it be true? Had he been blind to his own desires all along? “But... but I’ve never...” Lex's voice faltered, uncertainty clouding his mind. Jafar demanded, "Admit it. Say it aloud. Acknowledge who you truly are." Doubt flickered in Lex' eyes, but after a moment of hesitation, he said, "I...I'm..." his voice trembled before he took a deep breath and uttered the words, "I'm gay, Master." Jafar's laughter rang out, a mix of triumph and satisfaction.

"Well done, my obedient pleasure boy. Embrace your new self." Lex felt a strange mix of liberation and vulnerability wash over him as he acknowledged his hidden truth, sending ripples of change through his being. As the words hung in the air, a wave of acceptance washed over him, mingling with the confusion and fear that clouded his thoughts. Before he could dwell on his newfound revelation, Jafar swiftly sprung into the lamp.

Jafar's eyes danced with triumph as he took a step closer to Lex, his movements predatory and sinuous. With a swift motion, he caressed Lex thighs and member through the delicate fabric of the harem pants. A moan escaped Lex's lips as he felt the undeniable response of his body to Jafar's touch. The genie's dark eyes held a predatory gleam as he watched Lex' cock respond eagerly to his dominance. "That's mine now, right?" he purred, his voice dripping with power and desire. Lex's response was a guttural moan, a simple "Yes, Master," escaping his lips as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. Jafar's grip on Lex's chin was firm yet gentle as he lifted his gaze, locking eyes with him in an unspoken command. "Show me your devotion," he demanded, his voice laced with undeniable authority. Feeling a mix of devotion and arousal, Lex knelt before Jafar, his hands trembling as he reached for the genie's leather-clad thighs.

As he sucked Jafar’s dick, his mind clouded with submission, a strange eagerness washing over him. The genie's deep chuckle filled the air as Lex' obedience pleased him.

As Jafar reached the heights of pleasure, Lex obediently swallowed every drop of his master's cum, savoring it with an appetite fueled by his submission. Jafar's dark laughter mixed with Lex's moans, creating a symphony of domination and pleasure within the confines of the magical lamp. Just when the intensity of the moment peaked, a sudden interruption shattered the moment. The shop owner's return brought a jolt of reality to the surreal scene unfolding before him. Declan's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of the genie and the student, frozen in a moment of twisted bliss. "Ah, Declan, your timing is impeccable as always," Jafar's voice dripped with smooth amusement, his gaze lingering on Lex with a knowing look. Lex's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, unsure of what would come next in this unexpected encounter between master, servant, and unwitting spectator. The air crackled with tension, a sense of anticipation hanging heavy in the magical shop.

Declan's voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade, "Jafar, I wish that you let the boy free!" His words held a tone of authority that demanded obedience. Jafar's eyes narrowed, but he begrudgingly complied, knowing he had to obey Declan's wish. "Your wish is my command, master," he hissed through clenched teeth. In a swirl of magic and smoke, Lex was released from the confines of the lamp, standing once more in the shop, his eyes wide with a mix of relief and confusion.

Declan approached Lex, his gaze filled with sympathy as he explained the gravity of the situation. "I arrived just in time. A few minutes later, and Jafar would have transformed you into a genie for good," he revealed, his tone grave yet comforting. Gratitude swelled within Lex as he realized the extent of Declan's intervention. He had been spared a fate worse than he could imagine.

Lex mind was still reeling from the whirlwind of the events that had unfolded and he felt a sense of overwhelming fatigue wash over him. "I think that's enough excitement for one day. It's time for me to leave," he mumbled wearily, ready to escape the bewildering events of the day. Yet, Declan's words halted him in his tracks, his gaze locking onto Lex with a mix of intent and purpose. "As you have already swallowed Jafar’s seed, you have gained magical powers that need to be trained," Declan explained, his tone unwavering. "You must become my sorcerer apprentice now."

Lex's mind reeled at the sudden shift in his destiny. From a simple student on holiday to now a budding sorcerer under Declan's guidance, his life had taken a dramatic turn.

Though Declan reassured him that Jafar's revelation about his supposed hidden gay desires was part of the genie's corrupting influence, a lingering sense of longing remained within Lex. The memory of serving Jafar, albeit under false pretenses, had stirred something deep within him.

As Lex embarked on this new chapter of his life, delving into the world of magic and sorcery under Declan's tutelage, he couldn't shake off the echoes of his encounter with the genie. The allure of power, the pull of submission, and the whispers of forbidden desires tugged at the edges of his consciousness.

And so, Lex's journey into the realm of mysticism and enchantment began, marked by the lingering shadows of his past encounter and the uncertain promise of what lay ahead as he navigated the path to becoming a powerful sorcerer and, perhaps, mastering the depths of his own desires.

#male tf #male transformation #servant #mystery #genie #genie's lamp #gay tf #submision #straight to gay

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just-a-ghost00 · 6 months ago

Text

What your spirit guides have to say about this connection

Warning : there might be some cuss words in the words/signs/names section.

Group 1 - Drawings scattered on the floor

Tarot : 5 of pentacles, ace of pentacles, The Chariot, 8 of cups, Queen of swords, The Lovers | Oracle cards : Patience, Boundaries

When the opportunity arises, move on. Because if you stay, you're going to be disappointed. This connection won't bring you any satisfaction or happiness. It may even deepen your insecurities. No matter who this person is or how they treat you, on the long term nothing good will come of it for you. Now, the choice is yours to make. No one can force you to forget about this person and cut ties with them if you don't want to. Your spirit guides just want to warn you that it would be better for you not to dwell on this person, because there is someone better waiting for you around the corner. If this person is being disrespectful to you, it is high time you show them what you're made of. Because at the end of the day, your responsibility is to value and take care of yourself. I feel like some of you may feel lonely and long for a deep connection. So maybe this person has shown some interest in you which led you to belive that this could be your forever person, when they aren't. I'm sorry if this triggers you, because my intention isn't to hurt you but to provide useful and important information. I know how difficult it can be to cut ties with someone when we had so much hope and dreams with them. But I have no doubt you can make it through. Your guides want to reassure you on the fact that choosing yourself over this person is going to be beneficial to you. Extra information - Strength Queen of pentacles 3 of pentacles Your guides want to insist on your power and ability to overcome this situation. They know you have what it takes to resist this person and protect yourself. The spirit animal of the tiger is watching over you during this period of your life. You may call to it for advice and help. Your spirit guides also urge you to deepen your connection with them and have faith in the Universe and it's ability to provide you with exactly what you need and deserve. Letters : S O E U S W S E I C L E E G R Words/signs/names : wise, use, sue, sow, woes, sus, Susie, cues, Wess, sis, Cis, cusses, Seoul, soul, Glee, seer, Rogue, mess, Ciel, rouge (French for red), glow, cure, secure, Curie, glue, series, cries, less, lows, lower, roses, girls, Weiss, Solweig

Group 2 - Ticking clock

Tarot : 4 of cups, ace of swords, 8 of swords, 4 of wands, 8 of cups, 7 of swords Oracle cards : Get wild, Sacred sexuality rx

You and this person are currently in seperation. You feel like this person is hiding things from you or isn't comfortable speaking their mind. Many of you may be asking about a future spouse. Spirit wants to draw your attention on the fact that the more you think about this person and focus your energy on them, the more opportunities you are missing. It's like you're telling yourself "I can't be in a relationship right now, what if my future spouse comes into my life then?". You're refraining yourself from living your life, having fun, meeting new people. Your future spouse is not open to your connection currently, is what spirit is saying. Forcing the situation would only keep you apart. They are not ready. And so are you. You have other things to tend to, other experiences to live, other people to meet. Your guides advise you to draw back from this connection from a while and keep to yourself what you are doing. Your FS doesn't have to know. And it is none of their business anyway. If you keep pushing, you'll only be lying to yourself. It's important that you turn your gaze on other matters. Right now, this connection isn't beneficial to you. This isn't to say that this person is bad. This is just to say that they currently don't have anything to offer. Extra messages - 2 of pentacles, Black Numen, White Numen You are in a state of confusion regarding this connection. This is because you are currently in or about to be entering a dark night of the soul, a period of solitude and separation from this person. You won't be picking up on anything from their higher self or very little information. But there is always light at the end of the tunnel. Though you don't know where this path leads, you have to trust that the outcome is going to be positive, whether with or without this person. Right now, you should be focusing on your balance and navigating through the fog.

letters : L E U M T T S L T X M R L V T words/signs/names : Summer, sex, muse, exult, luxe, melt, ex, texts, test, sell, tell, mums, "trust me", serum, mute, Muller, mulet, rest, SUV, vet, "must let", lust

Group 3 - Adventurer's camera

Tarot : The emperor, 6 of cups, 7 of wands, 4 of swords, The Star, Knight of pentaclesOracle cards : The Creator, Withdraw

Spirit wants to confirm that this person is a soulmate of yours. You are destined to get closer to this person after a period of retreat. They are represented by The Emperor, The Star and The Creator. Chances are this person is an artist or a public figure like an influencer. If not, then the person you're asking about is destined to gain notoriety. They are extremely powerful. They are here to help you manifest your desired reality. But for now, a time of separation is needed. You may receive intuitive downloads from this person's higher self to guide you on your journey. Patience is the key word here. This person has a lot of passion for you. But spirit wants to remind you that their role is mainly to guide you, to light the way so that you can follow in their footsteps. They don't want you to get too caught up in what you feel for them. Because they're afraid you might forget your purpose. Extra information - Ace of swords, 7 of pentacles, The Sun By working on your inner truth, you could reach success with this person and also on a more personal level. This time of withdrawal is meant to help you with that. You may be afraid of failure regarding this connection. Know that there is no such thing as failing. You can only make the decision that is right for you. You might not see the full potential of what you have currently and may doubt this connection but your guides want to assure you that there is more to this than you can see. It'll make sense in due time.

Letters : D S U Q O E U M L M E T N C S Signs/names/words : cute, sun, son, lost, lust, muse, Noel, lune(French for moon), comet, comments, dust, moles, semen, men, quests, cloud, cold, muscle, monde (French for world), mounts, Clement, sounds, museums, ondes (French for waves), clones, cents, sold, old, soul, mess, cuss, lone, doms, demons, clues, cums, semen, told, SNS, meme, dots, "see us", SOS, cunt

#pick a card #pac reading #spiritual pac #spiritual guidance #oracle cards #tarot

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shadowdaddies · 1 year ago

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can i please request one with cassian x reader where reader is pregnant but doesn’t know and is being extra clingy to cassian. literally he’s going up to drink some water and she’s going with him or he’s training and she’s sitting next to him waiting for him to finish. And at meetings she’s sitting in his lap and holds him close. everyone wonders why that is bc reader doesn’t usually like pda. the bond knows before them that she’s pregnant and she subconsciously wants to stay close to her mate to feel protected. they eventually find out after feyre recognizes the signs she also had and everyone are so happy for them, cassians extra possessiveness and protective instincts go crazyyyy😍🧎‍♀️

Okay so I'm combining this with this other Cassian x pregnant!reader request because I like how the stories go together:

So the first part of the story is fluffy, reader finding out she's pregnant. I'll mark with an * in the story for when it shifts from fluff to the action-packed part so you can decide for yourselves if you want to just enjoy the fluff or read the whole thing (I like the whole thing, I love how this turned out)

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone mortal combat while pregnant

Protect Our Family

Cassian x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of sex, not proofread

Overwhelmed by fatigue, you were nauseous and achy as you had been on and off for several weeks now. It felt as if you had a cold and your cycle at the same time, but you weren’t due for your cycle for another six weeks. You weren’t sure what had you feeling so off balance lately, but you were overcome with anxiety anytime you were apart from Cassian.

From the moment you woke up in the morning, you could feel the bond urging you to find your mate. It was different from the frenzy when you first accepted the bond; it was a sense of security you craved, one that was never sated until you felt Cassian’s comforting presence. One day, you joined Cassian to go to the River House for a meeting with Rhys about the Illyrian camps. The males were in the office while you talked with Feyre, the two of you playing with Nyx in the living room.

They weren’t long into the meeting when you started feeling panicked again, that draw to find Cassian overwhelming your senses. Feyre immediately sensed your stress. “Are you feeling alright? You look like you’re going to be sick,” she questioned you with a concerned look. Clutching your hand to your chest, you took a deep breath. “I don’t know, Feyre. I’ve been feeling so sick lately, like I’m on my cycle except that I know I’m not. And I know this sounds ridiculous, but I have this new instinct that I have to be near Cassian for safety. I don’t know, I think I need to see Madja.”

You looked over to Feyre, bracing yourself for the incredulous look you were sure to receive, but instead found her teary eyed, a soft smile on her face as she shifted her glance from your face, to your stomach, and then to where Nyx was playing with his toys. Frozen in place as realization dawned on you, you simply gaped at Feyre, who turned back to you and nodded reassuringly. “I had all the same signs early in my pregnancy with Nyx. The bond is pushing you to be around your mate to protect your baby.”

Hearing the words “your baby” out loud brought both you and Feyre to tears of joy as you stood to hug her. As if the recognition of the pregnancy triggered it, your scent changed. There was no denying it now, you and Cassian were going to have a child. You laughed through your tears as you watched Nyx run up to Feyre, trying to grasp how that would be you soon enough. Cassian and Rhys came out of the office at the sound, concern on their features as they saw your and Feyre’s tears, before they scented you.

You turned to Cassian, your broad smile affirming that they were in fact cries of joy as you nodded to him, “you’re going to be a dad.” An stunning wave of love flowed to you through the bond as you and Cassian ran to embrace each other. A tear rolled down Cassian’s cheek as he whispered in awe, “we’re going to have a baby.”

The moment faded quickly as Cassian looked to Rhys with a grim expression on his face. Cass growled out, “I’m not leaving her here.” You looked frantically between the two males, trying to decipher what Cassian meant as you took in Rhys’s conflicted expression.

“What do you mean, leave me here, Cass?” you breathed out. Cassian looked down at you with a fierce expression before kissing the top of your head. “I need to go to Windhaven. There’s suspicions that Koschei’s spies have infiltrated the camps and Azriel believes they’re planning an attack soon.” Looking between you and Rhys, Cassian continued, “I can’t leave the soldiers during a time like this, but I’m not leaving you and our child right now.”

The weight of an anvil fell on your chest as you registered the gravity of the situation. Before another tear could fall from your eyes, Feyre stepped forward. “What if we all went up to the camps?” She squeezed your hand as she looked to you, “I will leave Nyx here with Elain, but keep you company up at the cabin, so we can stay close to Cassian without being in harm’s way at Windhaven.” No one was excited about the idea, but it was the best option you had.

You and Cassian stayed awake all night, making love as you celebrated the life you would soon be bringing into the world, but come dawn, you were filled with dread at the thought of your mate being in danger and away from your child. The four of you left for the camps early in the morning, Cassian and Rhys helping you and Feyre get settled into the cabin before they left to meet Azriel at Windhaven. It took everything in you to deny your instincts to follow Cass to the camp, but you felt peace knowing that Rhys was with him, and they would not be far in the event of trouble, which Rhys assured you was highly unlikely.

You held back your tears as Cassian begrudgingly winnowed away with Rhysand, and settled into the couch with Feyre. You had been relaxing on the couch for awhile, Feyre giving you advice on your pregnancy while you two sipped on tea, when Feyre’s eyes turned that glazed look that let you know she was communicating mind-to-mind with Rhys. She kept her composure impressively; if you didn’t know her so well, you wouldn’t have known the way her eyes widened and the tick in her jaw was her tell. Something was wrong.

You jolted up from the couch, prepared to find and protect your mate when Feyre gently grabbed your arm, drawing you back to your surroundings. She spoke to you as one might a startled animal, “Rhysand was just informing me that there is an attack at the camp. It’s a small group, though, and the Illyrian soldiers far outnumber Koschei’s party. They can handle this.” Despite every bone in your body telling you to do otherwise, you nodded as you sat back down on the couch. Feyre gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll go fix us some food in kitchen.”

You tried to relax on the couch, but that instinct from before was back. You needed to be with Cassian. You needed your family together. You padded into the kitchen where Feyre was cooking, catching her in a tense position over the stove as she seemed to be speaking to Rhys again. Before she could even turn to address you, you had winnowed to Windhaven.

Chaos raged throughout the camp. At every turn, you witnessed a battle or a body. Without a second thought, you let your protective instincts for your family take over, grabbing a sword from the ground as you raced through the camp in search of Cassian. Fortunately, the Illyrian warriors recognized you as their General’s mate, and worked with you as you fought off soldier after soldier in Koschei’s army.

A soldier cornered you in front of a tent, taunting you. “I can smell that little Illyrian brute inside of you. What a favor I’ll bring to the world to rid-“ His threat was cut off by an obsidian knife through his throat. Blood splattered as Azriel yanked truth-teller out of the male’s throat, throwing his body to the ground. Before you could explain what you were doing there, Azriel pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he murmured, “congratulations, sister.”

You only had a moment to be shocked by Azriel’s uncharacteristic affection before two more males approached you, and you two were thrust into the throws of battle once more. Adrenaline surging through you, it felt as though a mere second had passed from when you’d arrived to now, as you stopped to look around at the bodies that littered the ground, the battle seemingly over.

You turned to see Azriel, who you’d been fighting along side, taking deep breaths as he came down from his own adrenaline rush. It was then he looked at you with a bewildered expression, registering what you had just done. He came over to you, frantically searching for any injuries as he tried to keep his calm. “What were you thinking? Cassian is going to lose his shit. You went into battle pregnant!” Az said, almost more to himself as you both tried to comprehend all that had transpired.

It was then that you caught sight of your mate further across the camp, sprinting towards him without a second thought. Cassian did a double-take as he saw you running to him, frozen in shock as you felt his fear through the bond. You had no time to feel guilt as you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him as though he might disappear if you let go. When you finally pulled apart enough to look him in the eyes, you were taken aback by his intense gaze. “Please don’t be angry. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew something happened to you, Cass. I need you,” grabbing his hand and holding it against your stomach, you emphasized, “we need you. We are a family, and I will always come for you.”

Cassian leaned down to kiss you deeply before pulling away to whisper, “I love you. But you are pregnant, and I will always be the one to protect us. I am-“

Before he could finish his sentence, a figure approaching behind Cassian caught your attention. In the blink of an eye, you drew a throwing knife from his belt, throwing it into the chest of the soldier just before he could thrust his sword into Cassian. Cass whipped around to see the soldier on the ground before turning back to see you cocking an eyebrow at him. “WE protect this family.”

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