#I still don’t even have to look up reference for him

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 18

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 17 | Series Masterlist | Part 19

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k

Chapter Summary: You open up to Bucky before he meets your friends.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon elements, heavy petting, tension, kissing, inner turmoil, backstory, reference to unsupportive parents, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Waking up in Bucky’s arms felt different than it had the night before. This morning felt a bit easier and, dare you think, it was natural. A hand moved up and down your back, but it was more of a soothing motion than trying to turn you on. It was so comfortable that it almost put you back to sleep.

“Morning,” he whispered against your forehead.

“Morning,” you whispered back, waiting for him to inevitably start groping you. He didn’t. “Wait, you’re not dry humping me today?”

He let out a sleepy chuckle. “Not unless you want me to,” he teased, leaning back to gaze at you.

You looked at him, too. It was the most relaxed and well rested you had seen him look since you met. And the happiest. You being in the penthouse really made a difference in the dangerous man.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, brushing a finger along your cheek.

“Yeah,” you answered. You hadn't meant to fall asleep in the living room, but he didn't seem to mind. “Did you?”

“I did.” He sat up after a moment and stretched. “I’m actually kind of glad we didn't sleep in our bed.”

“Why is that?” you asked.

“Because we haven't made love yet,” he answered in a low voice.

You ignored the heat flowing from your core. “I’m kind of surprised you're holding out,” you said. With the way he always had to touch you and the filthy things that spewed from his mouth, he had to be a ticking time bomb.

Your reaction to him surprised you, too. It was just days ago when you wretched from just the stress of him blowing up your life and everything. Yet last night, you got yourself on his thigh with his encouragement and you willingly slept in his arms. Did that say more about you or him?

He sighed. “Once I have you I won't be able to stop. That’s how much I want you and will keep wanting you,” he admitted, separating himself from you more. “But I want your trust and forcing you into bed won't build it. We’ll be back at square one.”

You blinked slowly. Bucky pushed your boundaries one second and backed off the next. He tore through your walls and rebuilt them just as quickly. The man was a puzzle you feared you’d never figure out.

“It isn't just my trust that you want from me,” you said. That wouldn’t be enough for him. “You want me to love you.”

His eyes bore into yours and it felt like he was letting a wall down for you. “Yes, I do want you to love me,” he said, his voice thick. “I want a life with you and whatever exists beyond that.”

You swallowed. The air was too thick in the room, the emotions raw. He wanted you to love him even after you were gone from this world. “Your Pisces is showing again,” you whispered like it was a secret.

“Well, you did say I was intense, passionate, and I want to be close to the person I fall for,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your lips and helping you slowly stand. “It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.”

“I guess not,” you agreed, looking around. You hadn’t checked your phone at all since you went to his place. “What time is it?”

“Still early. Why don’t we have breakfast and then you can get ready for your day out?” he suggested.

That brought a smile to your face. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

His smile wasn’t as bright as yours as he led you to the kitchen and helped you take a seat at the island. “Eager to spend the day away from me?”

He sounded so sad you almost went to him to hug him. “I’m eager to spend the day with my friends,” you corrected him, watching him move around the kitchen with ease. “They’re kind of like sisters to me.”

“Sisters.” He paused and looked at you with a careful eye. “Do you realize you’ve never talked about your family with me? Not once.”

You kept a neutral expression, but you wrung your hands together in your lap. You were surprised it took him this long to point that out. “There isn’t much to say.”

He set two mugs on the coffee maker. “I think there is,” he said, facing you again. “You always mention your friends, your coworkers, Mrs. Crandle, and there’s always affection and love there, but never your parents. Why not?”

If he dug into your life the way he said he had, surely, he knew in some capacity. And it was too early to discuss them, but he would ask again later if you brushed it off. “Because they’re not exactly proud to have me as a daughter,” you sighed, trying not to reflect too deeply on that.

His mouth was set in a grim line. “Why not?” he all but snarled.

You shrugged and avoided his gaze. “I was just never good enough, you know? Whether it was my grades or sports or anything I tried, I was never… exceptional or special. Even when I did well at something it wasn't enough. It was always a toss-up between disappointment and indifference,” you explained. Your accomplishments weren't anything of importance in their eyes. “And when I said I wanted to be a florist I was pretty much told that my life was…” you paused. You weren’t going to cry. “A waste.”

“A waste?” The murderous expression on his face oddly brought you more comfort. “But you are exceptional. You lead with kindness and a good heart when it’s easier to be cruel or jaded. Your kindness saved my mom, and she knew you were special,” he said, shaking his head as he rounded the island. “It’s no wonder you never talk about them. It also explains more of why compliments make you feel uncertain.”

“It’s okay, Bucky,” you whispered.

Your parents weren’t bad people. They never raised a hand to you, and they gave you what you needed to survive in life, but not much else beyond that. No encouragement or affirmations of love. If you disappeared tomorrow, they wouldn’t know. You were invisible.

It was fine. You accepted a long time ago that you weren’t special in their eyes. The life you made in the city with your other loved ones was enough to give you a sense of family and it didn’t take away from the fact that you still loved your parents, but you refused to be like them. You’d still find ways to put kindness out into the world. You’d make others smile if you could. It wasn’t always much, but maybe it would make a difference in some way to someone.

And, well, who you were and what you did made a difference if you asked Bucky.

“It’s not okay,” he argued, framing your face. The intensity didn’t frighten you this time when you looked into his eyes. “And I’m so sorry I brought it up.”

“It really is okay,” you softly said, wondering how he got you to open up again. You would’ve had to talk about it sooner or later and there were people who grew up with much worse. “But you really think I’m exceptional? I’m just-”

He put his fingers to your lips, the thunderous look back on his face. “Don’t you dare say you’re just a florist or I’ll put you over my knee.”

Your eyes widened. He was serious. “I’m just… really hungry for breakfast?” you tried.

He exhaled deeply. “I’ll make sure you’re well fed,” he promised, going back to the task at hand. His shoulders were still stiff as he moved around. “When I compliment you, I mean it. And when I say you’re special or exceptional or anything else, I mean it. I won't let anyone make you feel less than what I know you are.”

Your chest tightened. “I know,” you whispered. The subtle threat to the cook for insulting your taste, beating up John for disrespecting you, he wasn't going to sit by and let people make you feel bad. Maybe one of the reasons he wanted to show you off to his loved ones was so you wouldn't feel invisible.

“Thank you for telling me, Kotyonok. I know that wasn't easy,” he praised.

“Thank you for asking,” you replied, allowing the warmth to settle in your chest.

“But I’m not asking your parent’s permission to marry you,” he blurted out, your eyes rounding. “They lost that privilege when they treated you the way they did.”

“They wouldn’t believe I was marrying you anyway,” you tried to joke. They would recognize immediately how out of your league he was.

“And they don’t need to come to the wedding either,” he snarled, carefully setting your coffee down in front of you when he looked close to throwing something. “It’ll be a small ceremony anyway. Just close friends and loved ones who matter.”

Your heart did a funny flutter. A small ceremony was exactly what you wanted. “Well, if my dad isn’t there, who will give me away?”

“Thor,” he answered without skipping a beat.

You burst out laughing, surprising both of you. The blonde would probably strut down the aisle. “I barely know Thor, but I feel like he'd probably shout something like ‘All rise for the soon-to-queen of the 107th’,” you mocked in what was a terrible impression of Thor.

Bucky laughed, too. “Not the best impression, Kotyonok, but you tried, and he’d probably say something exactly like that.”

“Well, whatever he says, I won’t walk down the aisle in some over the top dress. I want something beautiful, but simple. Same with the ceremony and reception,” you smiled. Something that was you. “And I get the final say in the flowers for obvious reasons.”

His eyes were full of love. Was he picturing you in a wedding gown? “As long as you get to be my wife, our wedding can be whatever you want it to be.”

Your smile slipped. His wife… You hadn’t shut down that you were going to marry him or pointed out how he was once again moving too fast. You even joked about your big day with him. “Um… breakfast?” Anything to distract you.

He had an easy smile on his face as he whipped up something quickly. Minus a quick thank you once he served it, you didn’t say anything else as you ate, and he didn’t push the conversation. Opening up a bit about your family and talking about marriage… Being in the penthouse destroyed your mental and emotional fail-safes.

“I should get ready,” you said, setting your finished plate in the sink and rinsing it.

“Me, too.” You felt him watching you. “If the weather’s nice tomorrow, we can have breakfast on the balcony. Maybe we can make it our routine on nice days.”

“Tomorrow?” you asked.

“If you want to spend the night again,” he casually replied, but you heard the want there. “Especially since we’ll be apart for most of the day.”

“Maybe,” you said. You had planned to just go back to your place once you got back from your day out. “We’ll play it by ear, okay?”

Disappointment showed for just a moment. “You said you’d spend time with me when you got back. That you’d let me know when you got back to the apartment so I could see you.”

“I did say that,” you agreed, remembering your promise when he tried to convince you not to go out today. “But maybe you can stop by the apartment. It could be fun.”

“I guess we’ll play it by ear,” he smiled.

You didn’t wait for him to follow as you went to get ready, but you did pause when you stood in the master bathroom. The left sink clearly belonged to Bucky. His toothbrush, cologne, everything was on that side. The right sink was yours. A toothbrush for you, a new bottle of perfume, deodorant, everything. It was like you were already living there.

You jumped when you felt a pair of lips on the side of your neck, your eyes meeting Bucky’s in the mirror. You hadn’t heard him come in, too distracted by your reality continuing to sink in. “I’ll miss you today,” he whispered, holding your hips.

“I’m not gone yet,” you whispered. You were there with him, in his grip. His touch would linger after he let go.

“I really hate having to share you,” he murmured, dragging his lips to your ear as your heart raced. “But I thankfully don’t have to share all of you.”

You gripped the sink when he snaked a hand between your legs. “Bucky,” you gasped.

“I know it’s selfish to ask when you’re spending time with your friends, but think of me,” he said, rubbing you through your pajamas and pressing his hips firmly against yours. Did being this close to you always make him hard? “Think of how much I want you.”

Your back arched when the metal hand moved to your breast and gently squeezed. You wanted to look away, but his reflection pulled your gaze to it. Trapping you, the way he had you trapped between him and the sink.

“Think of how much I need you,” he whispered, nipping your earlobe when you whimpered. The more he rubbed your pussy through the clothes the wetter the fabric got, the heavier your breathing became, and the more your head spun. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you whispered. It didn’t matter where you went or who you were with, he’d find a way to seep into your thoughts.

He moaned, his nose moving along your neck before he stopped rubbing you. “That’s my girl.”

You didn’t let go of the sink when he stepped away, your body slightly shaking as you came down from the high he built within. “And you’ll think of me?”

“I’m always thinking of you, Kotyonok,” he said, running a comb through his hair like he didn’t have a raging hard-on. “Always.”

You believed him. “Are you… going to take care of that?” you asked.

He glanced at his crotch with a smirk. “I probably should.” He leaned over and kissed your temple. “I’ll put some music on so you won’t have to hear me this time.”

“How considerate.”

“I’m a considerate guy,” he winked, leaving you alone in the bathroom.

“How do guys walk like that?” you muttered.

You waited until you heard the music start before you went through your routine. He’d likely moan your name at some point while he jerked off. At least he let you be so you could get ready and change into your dress. He said he wanted your trust, but he still found ways to touch you and wind you up. The tension was going to snap at some point and you wondered just how soon.

Looking at yourself in the mirror once you were ready, you tried to smile. You looked admittedly beautiful and felt confident for a fun day out. Did any of that have to do with Bucky?

You emerged after hiding in the bathroom long enough and stared as you saw Bucky in the bedroom. You half expected him to be in bed jerking off or doing something else, but he was dressed for the day. Head to toe in black with his hair slicked back, he looked impeccable as always. The expensive watch and pinky ring fit him well. Did he ever dress down? Why did he have to look so handsome?

“Wow,” he said when he caught you staring. “You look… so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you said, your cheeks warm as he crossed the room toward you.

Your eyelids fluttered when he placed a gentle kiss on your lips and put something in your hand. When did he grab your phone? “Ray’s going to follow you from Addison’s place.”

It was nice that Ray would be the one to go today and not someone else. “Oh, okay,” you said, checking real quick to make sure you didn’t have any missed calls or messages. “You really know where Addison lives then?”

The subtle smirk made your throat go dry. “Let’s go.”

As he led you out, you wondered if Zemo also knew where any of your friends lived. He got to Mrs. Crandle, but didn’t harm her. Would he do anything else? Glancing at Bucky, the men almost seemed to be two sides of the same coin. The difference was that Bucky thought he loved you and he knew how much your friends meant to you.

A text from Addison came through and broke you from your thoughts. “We’ll be waiting outside!”

“On my way!” you sent back. “They’ll be waiting outside,” you told Bucky.

“The plus side of dropping you off is I get to meet your friends before Addison’s wedding,” Bucky smiled. “Do you think she’ll be the maid of honor for our wedding? I already know Steve will be the best man.”

Back to talking about your wedding day. “Most likely. And Dana and Gina as bridesmaids,” you said. They’d be so happy and would never know how everything came about.

“You know what would be fun? Cupcakes. All sorts of flavors so everyone has something they want, but we’ll have a small cake for the two of us,” he smiled more, reaching over to take your hand. “And we should have a two week honeymoon. Minimum.”

You almost choked on your breath. The man did say he wouldn’t be able to stop having you once he started. Was this the kind of love you deserved? Obsession? “That’s a long honeymoon.”

“It’s just a start,” he sighed happily. “Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it?”

You glanced at him. “Sounds perfect,” you whispered.

He brushed his thumb over your ring finger. “I just need to get the perfect ring on your finger,” he whispered.

You bit your lip and looked out the window. You could’ve brought him back to reality or pulled away, but you didn’t. You did, however, tense up the closer you got to Addison’s place. This was meant to be your fun day out, but it was going to be about Bucky because your friends would see him. They’d ask questions. They’d be excited and happy for you, too.

Once again there’d be no going back.

Bucky tensed up, too, when he parked. The girls were waiting on the sidewalk and you couldn't help but smile. It was good to see them. “Here we are,” he muttered, squeezing your hand. “And now that we’re here I don’t want you to get out.”

You took a breath. He couldn’t back out now. “I’ll think of you just like you said. How much you want and need me,” you promised him, giving his hand a squeeze this time. “And before you know it you’ll see me tonight.”

He took a breath, too. “I’ll count the minutes,” he said, getting out. You let out a sigh of relief when he went around and helped you out. He had your cardigan in hand, too. “And I have a surprise for you and your friends.”

“A surprise?” you asked.

“Hey!” you heard Addison call out. She waved happily when you made eye contact. “You’re here!”

“Hey,” you smiled, leaning into Bucky when he slipped his arm around you. “I’m here.”

Addison’s face lit up as you walked toward her with Bucky by your side. “Oh, my God. Is this him?!” she asked.

“Him?! Who is him?!” Dana questioned, sweeping an appreciative look over Bucky. She was in a happily committed relationship but appreciated a good-looking man when she saw one. “Who are you?”

“Yeah, who are you?” Gina added with a raised brow. Showing up with a guy wasn’t like you.

“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he smiled charmingly before he gazed at you. “Her boyfriend.”

Your face felt so hot you thought it would catch on fire. He spoke it into existence and made it happen. He weaved the threads of your lives to bring you to this point, to every point.

Addison did an excited little hop. “Yes! Yay! You’re her boyfriend!”

“Yeah, I’m her boyfriend. And you’re Addison, Dana, and Gina,” Bucky smiled, shaking each of their hands. Your blood froze. You never pointed out to him who was who, yet it was another reminder of just how much he knew. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“AHH!” Addison’s excited shriek made you wince. “She mentioned you were coming to the wedding.”

“I am,” Bucky nodded.

Dana’s jaw dropped. “Hold on. A wedding date?! BOYFRIEND?! Holy fucking shit!”

“Why are we just now finding out you have a boyfriend?!” Gina chimed in.

Bucky held his head high. He was loving this, wasn't he? “Um, surprise?” you lamely spoke, taking in the sight of their shocked and thrilled expressions. They were so happy for you and it nearly made you cry.

Bucky chuckled again and held you tighter. “It’s kind of my fault she hasn’t said much about me. It’s still new and I’ve been selfishly monopolizing her time,” he said. They had no idea how true that statement was. “To be honest, I even begged her to hang out with me today because I love spending time with her, but she was really looking forward to hanging out with you ladies.”

The chorus of “aww’s” would’ve been sweet in any other setting, but he was putting them under his spell. “Okay, but seriously, why are you here with us and not hanging out with your new man?” Dana asked, looking over Bucky again. “I’m on your side, Bucky. She could totally ditch us and we’d get it. Really.”

“I promised him I’d see him tonight,” you said quickly, resting a hand on Bucky’s chest. You didn’t want him to take the bait your friend was unknowingly giving him.

“Yes, you did. And I know you’ll have a blast today,” he said, kissing your temple. “Wait, you ladies weren’t planning on driving or taking a cab, were you?”

“We were going to get an uber or something once my cousin got here,” Addison said.

“Oh, no, no. You can’t take an uber to the winery. That’s your ride,” Bucky said, nodding across the street when a limo pulled up. “My treat.”

You gasped. So did your friends. “Oh, my god. Bucky?” When did he arrange that?

“Surprise,” he smiled, sneaking in a kiss. “And you don’t have to worry about paying for drinks or your meals today either. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“Holy shit. Are you loaded or something?” Dana blurted out.

“Dana!” Gina hissed. You almost laughed. Dana had no filter, but she meant well. “What she meant was ‘thank you’.”

“It’s fine. Believe it or not, I actually own The 107th, but I don’t really like to brag about it.” Bucky casually shrugged. You stared at him before sneaking another glance at your friends. They were intrigued and completely buying what a ‘sweet’ guy he was. “There is one small catch though, if you don’t mind.”

Addison raised an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

“Kotyonok, can you hand her your phone so she can get a photo of us?” he asked, pulling you closer against him and curling his lips in a small smile. “That’s the catch.”

“Oh, my god. He has a sexy nickname for her and everything,” Dana loudly whispered as you handed your phone over.

“A free limo ride with paid food and drinks if we take a photo of you two together? That’s not a catch at all. That’s so sweet!” Addison held the phone up as you tried to put on your best smile. Like it was a normal love story. “One, two, three!”

You stood still for a few seconds before you stole a glance at Bucky. He was looking at you, too, and leaned in for a tender kiss. It was a loving gesture, but you knew it to be possessive, too. Your friends weren’t a threat to your relationship, but Bucky would have all of your attention if he had his way.

“He’s totally enamored,” Dana whispered again.

“I think they can hear you,” Gina whispered back.

“Okay, you two are so photogenic,” Addison swore, handing your phone back. Your breath caught as you swiped through the photos. You two looked like you were in love. How did the camera not catch any of your fear or uncertainty?

Your friends didn’t see it either. All they saw was a happy new couple. Maybe it was better that way.

“I’m not the photogenic one. She is,” Bucky smiled, giving you one more kiss. “Do you mind sending me those, please? Maybe I can frame one of them.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the additional chorus of “aww’s”. “Sure.” You sent them immediately so he wouldn’t hound you for them later.

Bucky checked his phone when it went off. “Perfect,” he whispered. You thought your friends were going to swoon. “You’ll have to let me know how the winery is. I may have to do an event there in the future.”

Addison smiled and looked between the two of you. “Well, you could check the place out yourself if you want.”

Your heart plummeted and your best friend missed the pleading look in your eyes. “I don’t think-”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that. It’s your day out and me being there makes it feel like I’m crashing the party or keeping tabs on my girl,” Bucky said, rubbing your side.

Your mouth fell open. Were you in the twilight zone? All he ever did was keep tabs on you.

Glancing at the limo, you spotted Ray’s vehicle parked behind it. He couldn’t exactly get out and introduce himself without drawing suspicion because what excuse would he have to be there that your friends would buy? But he did say he could avoid being seen, and you had a feeling he’d still manage to keep a close eye on you today.

“Well, you know we’re going to spend the whole limo ride over hounding her about this new chapter of her love life,” Gina teased.

“I have no doubt,” Bucky winked. “I just hope I’ve made a good impression because she means the world to me and I know she values your opinions.”

“As long as you treat her well. Otherwise, we’ll have to get rid of you.” Addison gave him a hard stare before she smiled. “But I think it’s safe to say you’ve passed the first impression test with flying colors.”

You deflated a bit. That was what you were afraid of. It was better that way. It meant they were safe from Bucky’s wrath.

“I’ll treat her like a queen,” Bucky promised. Whether you wanted it or not. “My girl deserves nothing less than that.”

“You two really are a good looking couple,” Dana noted, wiggling her eyebrows. “I’ll bet the photographer snags some photos of you two at the wedding because how could they not?”

Bucky put a hand on his chest. “I’d love more photos of the two of us, but the focus should be on Addison and Brady since it’s their day.”

He knew all the right things to say.

“You’re too kind.” Addison smiled before her phone went off. Looking at the screen, she groaned. “Of course. My cousin’s just going to meet us there, so I guess we can go?”

“I’ll walk you over,” Bucky offered.

He dug his fingers in enough for you to feel it and you noted the stiffness in his stance as he walked you across the street. Sending you off with your friends was a lot for him, but he had to deal with it. With Ray close by he wouldn’t have to worry about your safety either.

“Thanks again for the limo, Bucky. That was really nice of you,” Addison said.

“No thanks necessary. Just have fun today and drink plenty of water if you do lots of sampling,” he said, pulling you against him before you could get into the limo with your friends. He looked so lost for a split second and immediately leaned into your touch when your hand rested on his cheek. “I love you, Kotyonok. Think of me,” he whispered.

You initiated a gentle kiss which he quickly deepened. It didn’t last long since he had to let you go, but it lingered for both of you. “I will, Bucky.”

You’d think of him after he helped you into the limo. He’d occupy your mind on the drive over. And you’d once again miss the other pair of eyes watching you as you tried to enjoy your day.

Let's hope the day is a fun one. Who is watching? What's Bucky going to do while you're gone? How excited will Thor be when he hears the big news? 😂 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[dadvans]

without a base, without a trace

bucktommy (9-1-1) :: 5 medical emergencies buck has after breaking up with tommy + 1 he has when they get back together

slightly based on this post by @epiphainie. for @rcmclachlan. art by @wortwood. verging on crack fic. this is the dumbest thing i have ever written.

ONE.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

It’s a rare day that Josh is working the lines, not that he cares. It’s important to not get rusty in a job like this. And if he’s being a little too honest with himself, the rush he gets on certain calls make his shift fly by way quicker than when he’s supervising or working breaks.

“Josh?”

This is close to his thirtieth call of the day, so it takes him a second to place the familiar vocal fry on the other end of call.

“Buck?”

“Shit,” Buck says, “well, this is embarrassing. Uh, hey. Can you not tell my sister about this?”

“Your sister who is sitting across from me?” Josh glances up, catching Maddie’s attention. Her eyes double in size when he mouths Buck to her and gestures to his own headset.

“Yeah, please, I—Josh—“

“Hey, hey, of course, don’t worry, Buck, I’m still a professional.” He rolls his eyes as Maddie peers over her monitor, and he mouths again I’ll tell you later, before returning his attention to the line. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Buck sighs on the other end. “I have a Coke can stuck up my ass.”

Josh almost chokes. This wouldn’t even be the first call this week where someone “tripped and landed on something wrong,” but the mental image of one of those calls being Buck practically knocks the wind out of him.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that.”

“Coke can,” Buck repeats, and there’s something to be said that his bitchy tone could be genetic the way he sounds so much like Maddie on her last nerve, “stuck up my ass.”

“Oka-a-a-y,” Josh says slowly, logging rectal foreign body and Coke can appropriately. “Can I ask how this happened?”

“How do you think, Josh? My boyfriend broke up with me, I missed him, and Tommy was—he was big, you know?”

“Sure,” Josh replies, trying to keep his tone neutral as possible. “Have you ever heard the adage ‘without a base, without a trace?’ Without a flared base, nearly ten times out of ten you’re bound to—“

“Look, I know, okay? I’ve responded to plenty of these calls myself, I just thought I had a good grip and was feeling desperate, and with all the lube, it slipped, and—“

“You know what, I think I get the picture. Are you at your home address?”

He hears another sad sigh from Buck’s end of the line.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well, I’m dispatching paramedics to your location, okay? And for future reference”—he lowers his voice—“there are plenty of places online, or The Pleasure Chest off of Santa Monica that can provide you with a more appropriate, uh, instrument to help you with your needs, got it?”

He hangs up shortly after, and Maddie immediately rounds their desks to sit on the lip of his. “So?”

“Let me just tell you that you don’t want to know,” Josh says, shaking his head. “But if you piss me off someday, I might tell you.”

TWO

It’s barely a week after Josh takes Buck’s call that another one comes in. Josh is the supervisor on shift when he hears Maddie’s tone go from a measured neutral to thin and tight in seconds.

“Buck?” She says. “Buck, are you okay?”

There’s no possible way, Josh thinks. But just in case, on a hunch, he pulls up a chair and connects himself to her line.

“Buck, this is Josh, I’m acting shift lead.”

Maddie gives him a weird look that he ignores, but Buck says, “Oh, thank God. Maddie, can you let Josh just take this?”

“Um, n-no, no. This doesn’t work like that. What’s going on, Evan?”

“Maddie,” Buck groans, “please?”

“Please, sir, I need you to state your emergency,” Maddie continues, voice settling. Her hands, which had been starting to shake, still on her keyboard.

“It’s an eggplant,” Buck says. “I have… an eggplant.”

“An eggplant?” Maddie repeats.

Josh chokes past a cough so he doesn’t laugh out loud. Real fucking amateur hour. “Buck, what did I tell you last week? Did you completely ignore my advice?”

Maddie turns to him, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Your brother has an eggplant lodged in his ass,” Josh replies, shaking his head. “Am I right, Buck?”

“Look, I did take your advice, or I thought I did. I thought if I started at the smaller side, the other end would act naturally as a flared base, but I got uh, carried away.”

Josh closes his eyes, listening, and counts to three. Maddie may have stopped breathing next to him. “And Buck, uh, what kind of eggplant was it? I’m assuming—“

“Italian,” Buck confirms, “the big kind.”

Damn. Josh is kind of impressed. Buck sure isn’t doing things by halves.

“This time it may require, uh,” Buck continues, “surgical assistance. It feels really deep.”

“Buck, I can’t assure you of anything, but you’d be surprised what the human body is capable of. Just stay calm, and we’re dispatching help to your area. Are you still at home?” Josh asks.

“Yeah,” Buck admits. Josh has had years of faceless conversations across a wide range of disasters, emergencies, human experiences. Someone else, even Maddie, would probably say he sounds embarrassed, but Josh knows sadness when he hears it.

He doesn’t call any attention to it, just nods. “Okay, thank you. Help is on the way.”

When the call disconnects, Maddie turns to him, face distressed. “What did he mean, ‘This time?’”

THREE

Josh is supervising a new trainee’s line when Buck’s third call comes in. It’s been maybe a week and a half, and the first to come so late, almost three in the morning. Josh has just come back from a break, having closed his eyes in the back for forty-five minutes, and is wondering if he’s still dreaming when Buck’s unmistakable voice cracks over the line. Unlike the first two calls, he slurs from the first word and Josh is pretty sure he’s been crying.

Josh rolls his eyes and unmutes his side of the line. “Hi, Buck.”

His trainee almost jumps a foot when he does it. He covers his mic with his palm and turns to her.

“Repeat callers, you’ll get used to them. This one is kind of my regular,” he assures her, hoping she doesn’t work with Maddie anytime soon.

Buck hiccups on the other end of the line and moans. “Josh, I did something stupid.”

“Wait, what was that? Buck, can you tell me what’s going on? Are you safe?”

“I dunno. Did something stupid. Dumb,” he repeats. “Wine bottle.”

Jesus Christ. “Wine bottle?”

“Wine bottle. With wine in it. Neck not big enough. Stuck. Wine is—izza—fillin’ me up but is, it’s, doesn’t feel right.” Half of his words are slurred together. It sounds like he’s saying Dozen-fee-ruh. He says, “Mucus membranes. I looked it up. Too much.”

“Got it, got it, you home, Buck?”

“Yeah,” Buck admits softly. “Alone.”

“I’m sending help to your location.” Josh takes over his trainee’s dashboards and dispatches a team accordingly.

“Not the one-eighteen though, right?” Buck asks. But with the way he sounds, it takes a second for Josh to decipher.

“No, not the one-eighteen,” he says, then sighs. “But Buck, I can’t guarantee that they won’t be dispatched to you next time. And if it’s me on the call, that’s who I’m definitely sending. I don’t expect you to remember me saying this, but if this happens again, you might force my hand if that’s what gets you to stop.”

“Okay, okay. Just miss him. Miss him so much. The way he filled me up—“

Josh abruptly ends the call. Which isn’t great. Help has already been sent out, but still.

“What just happened?” She asks.

“Something,” Josh says on an exhale, “totally normal in the broad scheme of things. But for my sake? Please pretend this call never did.”

FOUR.

Josh was supposed to be off tonight, but dispatch has been busy, busy, busy since a low five-point-something and several aftershocks slammed everything sideways from Puente Hills. Sue called him in hours ago, and the only thing that’s keeping him alert through the hours-long queue of anxious callers is the promise of that sweet, sweet, time and a half overtime pay.

He’s ready to lose it by the time the calls start to finally die down only to have Buck end up on his line.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he sighs. He pulls

Buck, on the other end, grumbles what sounds like There have to be more than five dispatchers in all of Los Angeles, right? away from the receiver, before he says closer and direct across the line, “I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean, ’stuck?’” Josh asks, fingers flying over the keyboard. He hasn’t heard of any infrastructure damage near Glendale, but maybe he’s making assumptions. “Are you trapped?”

“No, I’m—not exactly.”

“‘Not exactly,” Josh repeats. “Buck, where are you?”

“My apartment.” Buck doesn’t sound scared, or even urgently in danger. He sounds resigned. “I got a toy, by the way. Like you suggested. Flared base. Suction end, even, so I wouldn’t have any more accidents.”

Josh stopped believing in God a few decades ago, but he finds himself sending out a quiet prayer anyway that none of his calls with Buck have randomly hit the auditor’s desk. “Is that relevant to the call, sir?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t—shit. I was riding it when the earthquake hit.”

“Okay,” Josh says, when Buck doesn’t elaborate. “And?”

“I had it suctioned to my coffee table. And I’d been riding it for a while, so my legs were already shaky and I slipped—you know what, not important. What’s important is that I’ve been glued to my coffee table with a dick in my ass since noon. I can’t get up without the table—everything pulls, I can’t feel where the silicone ends and wood begins.”

“Jesus,” Josh says. Again, he really hopes this call doesn’t get audited.

There aren’t enough first responders to get to Buck right away. Josh lets him know that, in between asking a series of invasive questions where he learns that Buck is also somehow upside down, struggling to reach the poppers bottle he wants to swat out of the line of sight when someone inevitably rescues him.

“We’re experiencing a high volume of emergency calls at the moment, but I’ll get someone to you as soon as I can. But Buck,” Josh continues, “you have my number. Let me know when you’re okay. And then we can talk. Because I never, ever want to get one of these calls again.”

FIVE.

Josh watches as Maddie suspiciously sidles up to him in the locker bay several days later. She’s half-dancing, hips swaying and arms circling in a sad attempt at salsa.

“Do you have bedbugs? Did Howie give you bedbugs?” He asks her. “Because if you have bedbugs and you give them to the rest of us, I swear to God, Maddie.”

“No!” She says. Even when she doesn’t laugh out loud, she laughs with her eyes sometimes, wide and alive and catching all sorts of life. Had he been straight in another life, he would have been in so much trouble. “Okay, remember how we discussed Evan’s, uh, recent maladaptive coping strategies?”

“If by ‘discussed’ you mean ‘completely evaded the subject,’ and I gave him the number of a man whose penis defies God—“

“Yes, yes, anyway. They’re on a date!” She whips out her phone to show Josh the text message confirmation from Buck that not only had he’d reached out to Josh’s friend a few days ago, but was also now on his way to a dinner and movie. “Look!”

Josh’s eyes close with relief. “Oh, thank God. I can finally rest easy for a shift and not worry your brother is going to end up on my line with something stuck up his ass.”

Maddie’s smile fades and her shoulders slump. “Tell me about it. I’d do anything to go back to a time where he was just baking too much and I didn’t have to worry about where all the candles in his apartment went.”

“Stop.” He closes his eyes and throws his head back. “End of conversation. Even if I’m happy you told me, so I won’t have to spend the next twelve hours worried your brother is going to finally puncture his colon and die. Because the past few weeks have been so much.”

“Well, maybe your Prince Charming is the one who will finally break the curse,” Maddie replies, squeezing his shoulder.

Josh really hopes so. He needs Big Dick Eric (the guy’s Christian name, according to how Josh had saved him in his phone after a slightly overwhelming Grindr hookup) to seal the deal with Buck tonight. It doesn’t have to be forever, just as long as it takes for Buck to stop trying to fill the hole in his heart with dick. For Josh’s own mental health.

He wants to be optimistic.

The first two hours of his shift are as normal as normal can be for a seven-to-seven night shift. He handles an ugly domestic call, several drunk teenagers, a broken skate park ankle, and multiple people reporting the same car alarm going off at their apartment complex. His heart rate picks up when a new homeowner calls to report a squatter in her attic, but it just turns out to be a bat infestation.

And then, as if even thinking the word “quiet” is a thought crime that welcomes chaos, Josh takes his next call and is greeted with screaming.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” He asks, voice slightly elevated to challenge the screams warping the call.

He’ll give Buck credit later: when the emergency isn’t necessarily specific to his own bad decisions, the guy is effectively, professionally cool in a crisis, to a degree that Josh doesn’t immediately recognize him.

He requests an ambulance immediately to a residential address for a single adult man who he believes has fractured his penis.

“Can you tell me what happened that has lead you to believe this man has fractured his penis?” Josh asks, trying to discourage his own balls from shrinking back up inside him.

“We were, uh, in flagrante,” the guy on the other end responds, and that’s when Josh knows it’s Buck, because the pitchy, worried waver in his voice haunts Josh’s dreams. “We were—well—there was a popping noise while he was still inside me, and everything got hot and wet different from lube, you know, and I looked down and there was blood everywhere. And then he started screaming.”

Yeah, that sounds pretty fractured. Poor Big Dick Eric.

“Oh-kay, sir,” Josh replies, “Well, I am dispatching help to you right now. While you wait, you should try to treat the afflicted area with ice—“

“—Already on it,” Buck replies, harried, and Josh can hear him roughly digging ice out of a freezer, he thinks.

“Great. Help will be there soon, Buck,” Josh confirms, and then the shoveling sound stops briefly.

“Josh?”

“Yup,” Josh replies.

“Of course, God—hey, please don’t tell Maddie about this one, please? I’ve already traumatized her so much.”

Josh sighs, and professionalism be damned, he can’t stop himself from saying, “Buck, I won’t tell Maddie, but I’m absolutely telling all of Gay Los Angeles to steer clear from you until whatever sex curse you’re dealing with is fixed”

Buck hums sadly. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Josh listens to him return to Big Dick Eric’s side, equal parts miserable and beguiled at the soft, direct way Buck offers a baggie of ice to a wailing Big Dick Eric. He finds himself feeling bad, though he’s not sure who for. All parties involved, maybe. Himself especially.

Despite all his years as a dispatcher, he still ends the call with a migraine.

PLUS ONE

“I think,” Maddie had said between several sips of decaf, halfway through their shift, tone light and bubbly, “that they might get back together. They’ve been talking.”

“‘Talking,’ huh?” Josh had replied, shutting his locker. “God, I hope so. Spare the rest of Los Angeles from whatever in the Grey’s Anatomy that’s become your brother’s life.

The look Maddie had given him, six months pregnant, patience thin, emotionally volatile and absolutely not amused, shut him up immediately.

That was hours ago. Seventeen calls ago. Their shift ends as the sun starts rising outside their windowless floor. Josh shrugs his jacket on thinking about the Egg McMuffin he’s going to get before he returns home and passes out in a sodium coma for approximately seven hours. Maybe he’ll dig through the graveyard of Trader Joe’s meals in his freezer to get the frozen bottle of Absolut that sits in back and make himself a Screwdriver to wash it down with.

“Plans for the rest of your day?” He turns to Maddie, only to find her distracted and scrolling through her phone.

“Sorry, I—I have like, several texts and five voicemails from Evan and I’m trying to read the transcripts first,” she says, brow knitting together with worrying familiarity. “Let’s see, it sounds like—oh. Oh. Oh wow.”

Josh commendably does not scream. “What now?”

She turns the phone to him, expanding the first message.

Hi Maddie, it’s Tommy. We’re—me and Evan—are headed to the ER. Nothing huge, just thought you should know, he said you had plans tomorrow. He kind of got carried away tonight, and, you know what? Doesn’t matter. Not a big deal. He’s having a little trouble speaking right now, but wanted me to call you so you don’t worry.

“What,” Josh says.

She thumbs open the transcript for the next voicemail.

Hey, Maddie. Tommy again. Buck’s voice is still out of commission. He, uh. It sounds like he ruptured his airway. He’s being given the good drugs, but will not be able to meet you tomorrow, and is definitely going to be on a text-only basis for at least a week. At the very least it isn’t bad enough for him to need surgery, so we’re getting discharged soon. I’ve got him for now, and I’ll keep an eye on him for the next couple of days while we’re off. Feel free to give me a call or swing by if you have any questions.

“Did he really—?”

“Yup, yes he did,” Maddie says, swiping over to her texts to open up a selfie from Buck, looking smug and high as a kite while reclining in a hospital bed.

“Jesus, how big is Tommy,” Josh says, before he can stop himself.

“At a certain point it just has to be uncomfortable for everyone involved, right?” Maddie frowns down at the picture of Buck grinning back up at her from her phone.

Josh sighs. “They really found love in a hopeless place. I think this is one of those situations where two people belong together, if only for the public safety of everyone else.”

“I just hope it sticks this time.”

“If it doesn’t, I might just have to quit my job,” Josh says. “Anyway, tell them congratulations for me. I’m going to go drink celebratory screwdrivers until I pass out.”

Maddie’s nose wrinkles and she turns her pout on him, one hand moving to her stomach. “You’re a cruel man, Josh Russo.”

His looks down at the phone she still holds with the other pointedly. “I think you and I both know I could be much, much worse.”

[qinluna]

cw: codependency. mention of suicidal thoughts, self-harm scars, dysfunctional family. semi-canon compliant to main story — directly references 1-4. reader is gender-neutral. reader is not mc. depressed reader. reader cries a lot. caleb and reader are childhood friends / neighbors.

you’re six years old when the old woman across the street and the boy she was raising on her own give you a safe haven. you snuck out because your parents were arguing for the umpteenth time, and your naive, fearful mind had just wanted some kind of safety. the boy’s name is caleb, and the woman’s called the police because the escalation of your parents’ conflict arises to the point where neighbors can hear it. caleb hugs you for a long time as you cry, giving you an apple plush to cling to.

you’re thirteen when you confess to caleb you thought about dying. you think it’d be an easier way out. you promise you won’t do it—but it’s devastating to him. if caleb had it his way, he would do anything to take this pain away from you. he doesn’t like seeing the girl he loves in so much anguish. the dark cloud that only goes away when he’s around. he wishes you two could just stay together forever. he would keep you safe. he sees faint, blurred scars on your wrists beneath your sleeves, and his heart sinks. he just wants to see you smile.

you’re eighteen, and you’ve both graduated high school. caleb has his prospects, and he’s bound for skyhaven to pursue his future as a pilot. you, on the other hand—lose your friends, and your graduation dinner is ruined by a heated argument among relatives. when you two meet up later that night—caleb decides to take you to a drive-in movie. it’s an older film, with a cliche action plot and comedic gimmicks. but you don’t pay attention to it, for you had curled up into caleb’s side, clinging to him as your body trembled with shaky, quiet sobs. caleb never lets go, grateful that he’s gotten stronger, taller—so he can shield you with his body just like this. neither of you open the snacks or pay attention to the movie. caleb holds you close, kissing the top of your hair occasionally as he murmurs sweet nothings to ease you. he takes you to a diner open all night, treating you to a proper meal to celebrate—punctuating it with a kiss to your lips before he drives you both home.

you’re nineteen when you say goodbye. you’re going off to study at the association’s academy, finally having a reason to leave that godforsaken home. you wouldn’t come back, you tell caleb, and he understands. he’s proud of you.

(but god, he’ll miss you terribly. and you’ll miss him too.)

you’re twenty-three, he’s twenty-four—when you reunite. you didn’t think it was possible. you were a graduated combat medic, sent undercover to deal with a precarious incident similar to the explosion in bloomshore district. (the very same that was caleb’s home. he was there when you came back to visit. he was there—and you were thrown back with the debris. you grieved for days.)

“you passed,” caleb says, the interrogation room’s lights coming back on. you’re horrified, unable to speak. you don’t even struggle against the restraints. your eyes are wide in complete shock, a fear filling your body that you hadn’t felt since you were a child.

he switches his tone from it’s colder firmness, softened to a manner like he was always speaking this way, “did i scare you?”

you still don’t move when he undoes the restraints. you’ve completely tensed up, shivering as thick globs of tears spill from your eyes. you choke out a strained sob, cowering forward as you lowered your head. you wailed like you were going to vomit.

this… was still caleb, right?

the one who spoiled you. the one who cared for you. the one who was the only constant in your life, the one who was your light in a pitch black darkness.

the violet gaze no longer seems to burn as bright like it used to.

“hey, please look at me…” caleb calls to you, bending to one knee to be closer, cupping your wet cheek, “i’m sorry, but it was necessary. i didn’t think—no. i… should’ve known. you were always a crybaby when we were kids.”

he sighs, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you against him. it does little to ease your anguish. your grief. your anger.

but you still reciprocate the embrace, clinging to and tugging on his uniform. you’ve been through too much. you’ve been robbed of too many things you couldn’t get the chance to have.

caleb is all you had left, and you didn’t want to let go this time. even if it would hurt more to hang on.

“i’m never gonna leave your side,” caleb whispers into your ear. “stay with me. i can keep you safe, i’ll take care of you. forever.”

forever.

with caleb?

that sounds nice.

[eroselless]

───────── wait for me // down to the riptide

summary: even divine favor can't save him from the price of doubt. [5.9k]

[charles leclerc x reader]

Greek!AU, orpheus and eurydice

dttr masterlist

warnings: smut, cumplay, cowgirl, death, description of death, religious/theological references (its a greek mythology story)

note: *throws fic, runs away* hehe, see you next week, bai :)

Charles had always been told he had been touched by the gods. The first time he’d sat down and brushed his fingers delicately a lyre, the melody flowed so effortlessly that even Apollo’s priests began to whisper among each other, wondering how a mortal could possess such a diving talent, one that could even challenge their god. 

Whenever he played, the air around him would still. Animals gathered and the restlessness of his fellow men would quiet. Kings sought him out for their courts, poets would beg to set their words to his melodies and aristocrats would pay millions for even a minute to hear him.

But he never cared for that, not really. Not until he laid his eyes on you. 

You were beautiful in the way soft things were beautiful: delicate but with a strength that made Charles ache just to look at you. It was as if you carried Aphrodite’s beauty in your smile, the way you seemed to light every room with your presence.You were the kind of woman that was written about, craved and yearned for. 

You were the daughter born of a high-born family, promised to Lord Damian an older man your parents had meticulously chosen for you. Wealthy and proud, his status was rivalled only by his towering ego. Your status paired with your beauty made you untouchable, promised to a man of power and ambition Though you were worlds apart, at every banquet, every court gathering you’d find your eyes lingering on Charles for just a moment too long. He would meet your eyes as he would expertly pluck at the strings of his instrument. Your eyes would be half-lidded, chin resting on your hand as if you were hypothesized. And Charles? He could feel your eyes like the warmth of the sun. It wasn’t something he could ignore, even if he wanted to. 

Your first meeting was almost accidental. You’d find him on a marble bench in the gardens late at night, taking refuge from the ongoing party, playing softly to himself under the light of the moon. Most of the guests were still enjoying the lavish reunion, conjuring the spirit of Dionysus in their wines and dancing.

You watched him momentarily from the shadows, admiring how the light flowed around him, as if the gods were watching him at that very moment. Your silk down brushed the hedge, catching on the little branches as you hesitated. 

“You play beautifully,” you call out, stepping into the moonlight. 

Charles looked up, startled momentarily, fingers faltering on the strings. For a moment, all he could do was stare. Having you so close and all to himself, he gave into the temptation. You were luminous, hair catching the silver glow of the moon only made the red carnation tucked behind your ear stand out more.  For the first time, he truly understood why the poets spoke of mortals shining brighter than stars. 

“Thank you,” he replied, his voice quiet but steady. “I didn’t realize I had an audience.”

“Would you mind if I stayed?” you asked, your voice coming out in a shy whisper. “Just for a little while.”

Charles should’ve said no. He should have packed up his lyre and left, putting distance between himself and the tragedy that was only waiting to happen. But he didn’t. He nodded, returning to a melody he’d never played before, inspired by the way you watched and the way you seemed to glow as he played on. 

Over time, you inched closer, asking him questions about himself long into the night. You sat among the stars, giggling together. He’d even placed his lyre into your hands, instructing you how to play as gently as he could. 

“I don’t think I should be here anymore,” you whisper suddenly. Your voice is low, something he can’t quite recognize dripping from it. He could see your eyes drooping, just as they did whenever he played his lyre. It was a look you saved just for him—a gaze that sent shivers down his spine and, now that you were so close, stirred a deep, undeniable heat within him. You were sitting face to face, now seated in the grass instead of the bench you’d been on at the beginning of the night. 

“Then why are you still?” he murmured back, his voice low, his lips close were enough to brush against your temple. 

“I don’t know,” you say, feeling yourself lean closer to him. 

He meets you half-way, his lips pressing against yours hesitantly. He thinks he can feel your mirrored hesitance, almost waiting for him to pull away. There’s a flutter in his belly that erupts in waves as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him ever closer. You’ve risen up on your knees, moving into the space between his outstretched legs. His hands caress your back, bringing your chest to his, your breast firmly pressed up against him. He licks into your mouth to glide his tongue over yours, a silent confession of how long he’s been fantasizing about this moment—since the very first time he laid eyes on you. You carried the subtle sweetness of the wine you’d been sipping all evening, while he tasted of something richer, almost intoxicating—a flavor you knew you could never tire of. His hand slips up your torso, sliding over the hills of your breast before finding home at the base of your neck. It stays there, not squeezing but almost as if to memorize the feeling of your skin under his fingers. 

You settle into his lap now, hips gently beginning to rock against his. As your hands fall down to his chest, you can almost hear Eros whispering in your ear, enticing you to give into the feeling that was burning between the two of you, to slip your hand under his tunic or to bring his hand under yours. 

It’s distant, but you hear your name called from beyond the hedge, the voice oblivious to the predicament you’re in. You agonizingly pull away from Charles, staying silent, hoping they’ll move on, but instead, they call out for you again, louder this time.

You sigh, pressing a light kiss to Charles’s lips again before telling him to meet you after the next banquet. Charles nods, blinking as if he’d been pulled out of a dream. He watches as you flatten your gown before giving him a shy wave and disappearing behind the hedges. 

It wasn’t long before you’d see him again, the excuses flowing like water. You would meet with Charles again under the protection of the night, Nyx watching overhead. You’d sneak away from the feasts just as you did that first night, everyone at court whispering how you’d simply tired of Damian’s company. No one suspected where you went instead—slipping through the darkened halls and shadowed gardens to wherever Charles was.

☾ ⋆・゚:⋆・゚

“Oh how the gods have smiled upon us,” he says one night. He has you in his arms, your gown pooled in your lap. It doesn’t stay there, his hands impatiently pulling the scrunched piece of fabric from your frame. He drags his lips down your neck while his hands are anchored on your hips, shifting them gently on his cock. 

You can only muster a weak hum, quietly agreeing with him. You’re shaking a little, your legs exhausted from the effort you’ve been putting in all night. It is almost overwhelming how deliciously he’s pressed to your walls. His moves have been small and gentle tonight, yet he could feel as your walls would tremble with every little push. Your head lulls back, hands anchored to his shoulders, opening up your chest and he can’t help but smile as he sees your chest heaving. 

He kisses at the flesh of your exposed skin, tongue licking long stripes down to your breasts, eventually pulling a pebbled nipple into his mouth. He relishes at the sound of your voice and how it whines at the feeling of his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. It makes you arch your back slightly, shifting him inside you. 

“Please,” you implore, eyes squeezing shut, begging him to do something, anything to ease the delectable ache he was causing between your legs. Charles sweetly presses his lips against the column of your neck, tilting your face back towards him. “T'es tellement belle comme ça, mon coeur,” he says warmly. No matter how many times he saw you like this, completely bare, he always had a way of turning you into a giggling mess whenever he spoke to you in French. There’s a flutter in your chest that pulls a laugh from your lips that slowly turns into a moan as he pushes you upward before dragging you back down.

He pushes his nose against yours, chasing your lips as he leans back in the bed and pushes up into your. His arm wraps around your waist to hold you steady as he pounds into you. Yesyesyes. You can feel your release nearing. There’s a flash of heat throughout your body as you feel it, a loud groan falling from your lips. Charles keeps pushing his hips, trembling as he pulls out, reaching for his cock. With one stroke, he spills onto you, painting your navel and chest in white. You’re heaving, the sounds of his moans making your center warm up again. 

You slump down to the bed together as he drags his finger through his spend that is pooled on your skin. You eye him, tongue poking out to lick your lips before taking the finger into your mouth as you giggle. He gives you a smirk before reaching for something to clean you up.

Once you’re relatively clean, he joins you back in bed, pulling your body on top of his. Your head rested in his chest, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his skin. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders, his own fingers smoothing over your bare shoulder as he stared up at the ceiling. The high is dissipating, the silence makes you feel safe, cocooned in each other. You stay quiet for a while, not sure how much time passes before he speaks. 

“What’re you thinking about?” He murmurs, voice heavy with the oncoming wave of tiredness. His other hand comes up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. You tilt your head slowly to look up at him, lips curving into a soft smile. “You were right, it is as if the gods have smiled on us and allowed us this night.” Your voice is soft, as if you didn’t want the gods to hear. 

Charles chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Yet I’m worried that it's a dream that could fade with the rise of the sun,”

“If it is a dream, then let me never wake.” He says, burrowing into the bed. You reach up at his response to trace the lines of his face—his strong jaw, the lips that you were so addicted to. 

“I could spend an eternity like this,” your voice cracks a little as the voice falls from your lips. “I can’t bear the thought of a life apart.” 

He blinks slowly, eyes filling with tears as he looks at you. “There’s no distance I would not travel, no risk I would not take if it meant keeping you.” 

Your throat feels tight as he says this, tears threatening to fall from your eyes now, hot and unbidden. He presses his nose to your cheek, pressing his lips there as his thumb brushes away a stray tear that has slipped down. “I love you,” he says, voice low with his confession.

Your chest feels tight as you shudder, tears cascading down your cheeks. “I have loved you since the very first moment you looked at me and saw not just a lowly musician but a man.” You smile as you let his words sink in. You kiss him, slowly and deeply, almost cradling his face in your hand. It was as if you were trying to imbue in your kiss what words could not. “And I love you,”

Your fingers gripped onto his as you pressed your forehead to his. “What if we left this place?” You ask. “We can run away to somewhere that no one will find us and live out the rest of our days the way we want to.”

Charles stills, his brow furrowing as he searched your face. “Damian will not let you go,” he puzzles, his voice heavy with foreboding. “He won’t accept this rejection, he won't let you slip away.” 

“He doesn’t need to know,” you reply swiftly, your eyes burning with determination. “We can vanish without a trace. He will wake to an empty house, and by the time he realizes we’re gone, we’ll be halfway to the ends of the earth.”

Charles closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. “It’s not that simple. He is a man who sees defiance as an insult, and insults must be repaid. Even if he doesn’t find us, he’ll punish others in your place—think of yours. He’ll ruin them to make an example.”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t back down. “And if I stay, what then?” you ask, your voice sharp with desperation. “What becomes of me? A prisoner in a marriage I did not choose, chained to a life I cannot bear? I will wither, Charles. I will fade until there is nothing left.”

“Please don’t ask me to stay,” you beg, your hand gripping his. “Don’t ask me to trade my soul for his pride. We can escape him, Charles. We can outrun the chains he would place around us.”

“And if he catches us?” Charles asks, his voice trembling with the weight of the question. “What then? What price would you pay for this freedom?”

“I would pay any price,” you whisper. “Because freedom with you, even for a day, would be worth a lifetime in his shadow.”

He stared at you, torn between hope and fear. Slowly, he pulled you close once again, pressing his forehead to yours. “You are braver than I will ever be,” he murmured. “And more reckless.”

“Then be brave with me,” you whisper, a shake in your voice. “Be reckless with me, Charles. I love you. And I will not let him take that from me.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, he simply looked at you, his hand brushing your cheek as though committing your face to memory. “I love you,” he says at last, his voice breaking. “I love you more than I ever thought I could love anything.”

“Then let’s leave,” you declare, your  eyes burning with more unshed tears. “Together.”

Charles Presses himself to you once again, arms pulling you as close as he could. When he pulls apart, his hands linger on your face, his touch soft but steady. “The next full moon,” he said finally. “We’ll go. No one will stop us.”

“No one will find us,” you correct him, a small smile breaking through your tears. “And if they do, it will already be too late.”

“Together,” he said, his voice resolute.

“Together,” you echoed, your hand curling against his chest.

The weeks go by quickly. You disappear into the night, leaving Damian to ruminate in his study. He could see you weren’t tired, something in your eyes giving it away. “She’s hiding something,” He says one day, tone as cold as the marble floors beneath his feet. Lysander stands at the foot of his desk, the servant waiting for his master to give him the orders. 

“My fiancé disappears far too often to my liking. Follow her. Watch her. And when you’ve discovered what she’s been up to, you report back to me.”

Lysander bows. “Yes, my Lord.”

It only takes a few days for Lysander to catch you. He watches you from a distance, careful not to draw attention to himself. Your movements start mostly harmless—spending hours in the gardens, wandering through the halls and finally, like clockwork every night returning to your chambers early. 

It's not until one evening that he catches you leaving your room, through the abandoned guest wing of the manor. He follows you as quietly as he can, heart thumping wildly in his chest every time he follows too closely. You arrive at a secluded area in the woods, a small cabin nestled among the trees. 

It's there when he sees him. He can see through the window as you meet Charles in a kiss, hands tangling in his hair. He can see how you hold each other as if you’re each other’s lifelines, desperate to keep afloat. He watches as you writhe under Charles’s touch, a passion igniting between you two that he hasn’t even glimpsed at between you and his Lord. It makes Lysander avert his eyes, feeling disgust as he waits in his spot. 

He doesn’t leave. Lord Damian’s orders were clear and Lysander’s curiosity was stronger than his discomfort. He lingered in the shadows, watching as Charles loses himself between your thighs and how you toss your head back with a lust filled look on your face. He can hear as you call out for Charles, and how easily the iloveyous are exchanged between you.His stomach churns with unease, he wants to leave. But he could not come back empty handed, Damian would not tolerate it. 

Soon the space quiets and he dares look in through the window. You're draped over Charles’s chest, Hypnos’s touch making you hazy. Your voices are soft as you speak and Lysander can hear every word.  

“Just a few more days,” you whisper into Charles’s skin. “The moon is just about full and we leave all of this behind.”

Charles’s fingers cart through your hair, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Are you still sure?” he asks, his voice low. “Once we leave, there’s no going back.”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything,” you reply, voice steady. ““He can have the titles, the wealth, all of it. I want none of it. I only want you.”

Lysander’s breath catches in his throat, his fingers twisting the fabric of his tunic. This was much more than just an affair—it was treason. He backed away slowly, careful not to make a sound as he retreated from the light of the cabin. 

His hands shake as he stands before Damian, recounting everything he’d seen. Damian’s eyes darken at every word, lip stiffening and knuckled whitening as he grips the edge of his desk. “The little bird thinks she can fly away.” he muses, his eyes drifting toward the open window overlooking the woods. A sly sneer curls his lips.“But I don’t think so.”

☾ ⋆・゚:⋆・

You’re breathless as you arrive at the clearing, cloak pulled tightly around you. You carry a satchel over your shoulder, some supplies from the garden and little things you could take from home that wouldn’t be missed. Charles is waiting for you at the edge of the forest, an almost identical satchel around hung on his shoulder. 

“Are you ready?” he asks, his voice laced with urgency. His hand holds the back of your neck, tilting your face to look up at him. 

You nod. “I don’t care where we go, as long as I’m with you.”

There’s a silent adrenaline in Charles’s chest just waiting to ignite as you begin making your journey through the woods. A feeling he can’t quite shake pools in his gut, but he doesn’t know what it is. The sun has long been gone and you’re guided by the light of the moon. It’s quiet as you walk, both of you too nervous to say anything quite yet, as if any word could break you from this dream that was slowly becoming reality. 

The pit in his stomach only grows the further you walk. He doesn’t regret this, neither do you. But it is as if Fortuna has turned her back on you tonight. 

It happens in seconds, the sound of horses and shouts coming from behind you. Lord Damian. 

“RUN.” Charles urges you, tugging you deep into the forest. Caution is thrown into the wind as you run. That adrenaline is now raging in your chests. You turn into a field, the grass shrubbery as high as your knees as you run to reach the other side where you could lose Damian in the trees. You’re exposed to the air, a clear view of you from where Damian calls for you. You can hear him as he shouts. 

“My little bird, you’ve disgraced our union with your actions. It’s time to return—we’ll marry at first light, before your reputation is further stained. In time, I may find it in my heart to forgive you.”

The words send shivers down your spine. What would he do to you if he caught you? What would he do to Charles?

You’re almost to the trees when you feel your gown catch on a shrubbery, halting your run completely. You pull it away and take a few steps, only to be yanked back, caught on the branches of a fallen tree. There’s panic in your voices as you call for Charles, tugging at it desperately. You can’t think straight. Charles pulls at your gown, trying to set it free. Damian’s creeping up slowly on his house, watching you as you struggle. He’s taunting you. 

You almost don’t feel it—the sudden, sharp sting on your ankle, like a thorn pricking your skin. But then comes the second bite, a searing pain that shoots up your leg. You gasp, Charles finally pulling your gown for the branch. You watch as a viper slithers away, hissing as it disappears from your sight. 

Charles urges you again to keep running, not yet noticing the limp in your step or the blood that's begun seeping from your leg. “Charles,” you whimper as you feel your vision begin to blur. “We’re almost there,” Charles promised, his voice low but urgent. 

You’re so close to the tree line but the world spins around you as you meet his eyes. “A snake, Cha,” you gasp, your chest feeling tight. He drops to his knees next to you, hands cradling your face. His eyes wander down, finally catching the wound. There’s a terror in his eyes, an expression you’ve never seen before. You try to pull yourself up, to stand, to run with him into the trees. If you could only just make it to the trees. But you can’t. There’s a fire burning through your limps, a newfound heaviness. The trees in front of you blur into one as your vision slipped away. 

You can hear Charles pleading with you as your vision goes out. You can feel him crying over you begging you to stay. Don’t go where I can’t follow.

You try to speak, to tell him you were still there but your throat wouldn’t form the words. Gods, no. I love him. But you can’t, Thanatos is already pulling you away. 

Charles feels his heart rip from his chest as he sees the light in your eyes go out. How cruel the gods were to grant you this one chance, only to take it from you in the blink of an eye. He can feel your warmth begin to fade as his shaking hands brush your hair from your face. You’re gone but he can’t help but plead with you over and over again. 

He can almost see the shadows that grow longer over him, Damian and his men drawing close. He had to move—had to escape. But how could he leave you here, alone in the dark?

He lowers you to the ground, closing your eyes as he settles you there. You looked peaceful, so heartbreakingly beautiful. He lingered for a second, fingers reaching into his satchel to pull out a single red carnation. He’d planned to ask you to marry him that day. Now he can only give it to you here as you lie. 

He presses the flower to his lips, tears falling onto the petals before tucking it behind your ear. 

“I’ll come back for you,” he whispers, his voice raw. “I swear it. This isn’t the end.”

The sound of Damian’s men grew louder, their shouts drawing nearer. Charles stood, his fists clenched, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He kisses your forehead one last time, turning and disappearing into the forest.

☾ ⋆・゚:⋆・

Charles wanders the woods aimlessly for days, his guilt weighing heavy on his chest as runs. He’s not sure where his feet are taking him—the only thing he knew was there he couldn’t let Damian’s men find him. There’s a faint pounding in his head as his breath comes in ragged gasps, legs burning as he pushes himself forward. He heaves as he ducks into an empty cavern, almost collapsing onto the ground. Tears begin to fill his eyes as catches his breath, mind filling with thoughts of you. Your face is burned into his mind, your smile, your laugh, the way you had once looked at him. And now, you are gone. 

He pulls out his lyre, wincing as he stretches to pull it from its spot slung on his shoulder. His fingers tremble as they find their home on the strings.

The first few notes are soft, trembling like the tears that streak his face. He plays, the gentle melody rising into the air like a prayer. It’s raw, unfiltered, a song born of grief, desperation and loss. The air around him seems to stop, the wind stilling, trees freezing in place. Even the stars he sits under seem to listen to him, weeping with him. 

He’s bathed in silver light that falls from the skies, slowly coalescing into two figures. One is dark and towering, his shadow stretching over the ground like an imposing shroud. The other is radiant, her eyes filling with immense kindness and sorrow. 

The woman calls his name, halting his playing. He’s never seen her before but he knows her name, Persephone, queen of the underworld. His voice is soft as her words gently echo through the air. “Your song has reached even the depths of my realm.”

“You mourn deeply,” observes Hades, his voice a deep, resonant growl. “Few mortals would dare to love so fiercely.”

Charles drops to his knees, clutching his lyre tightly as he does. “Please,” he begs, his voice broken and weak. “If my music has touched even the gods, I only ask one thing. Let me bring her back, I’ll do anything.”

Persephone tilts her head, studying him with endless, violet eyes. “You would risk everything for her?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation, his voice now steady despite the tears in his eyes. “I would give my life if it meant hers could be returned.

Hades steps forward, his presence looming. “We are not so generous as to grant such a request freely,” he begins. “But your devotion… it is rare. We will grant you a chance.”

Charles’s breath catches, hope flickering to life in his chest. “What must I do?”

“You will descend to the underworld,” Persephone instructs. “There, you may plead your case for her soul. But beware, mortal. The path is perilous, and the rules are absolute.”

“If she is to follow you back,” Hades continues, his tone dark and heavy, “you must not look back at her until you both have reached the surface. Should you falter—should you give in to doubt—she will be lost to you forever.”

For you, Charles would face anything. 

☾ ⋆・゚:⋆

The path is dark, just as the goddess had promised. Charles stumbles as he enters the cavernous opening in the earth, like the mouth of a beast preparing to devour him. The air seeped out, heavy and damp, cold as it carried disembodied voices. 

The descent was steep, the darkness growing around him, growing thicker with every step. His feet carry him over a winding path of jagged stone but soon there is nothing but smooth obsidian beneath him, slick and unforgiving. His shoes slip on the stone, sliding further into the darkness. He loses himself, focusing only on the path in front of him. He can only think of you, the only thing that pushes him forward. 

His first arrives at the River Styx, the waters swirling endlessly before him. Charon, the ferryman, waits there for him. His hollow eyes watch Charles with disdain, disgusted as he sees the very alive man pleading with him. 

“I have nothing to offer you,” Charles admits, his voice hoarse. He’s thirsty but his fingers dance softly on the chords of his lyre. The notes are rich, weaving a melody of loss and longing. Charon pauses, his skeletal fingers curling back as he listens to the man. 

The ferryman’s expression softens the slightest bit and with a slow nod, he gestures for Charles to board his boat. It rocks under his weight, the journey across the waters eerily quiet, except for the steady splash of Charon’s oar. When they reach the other side, Charles slowly steps out, turning back only to bow deeply to the ferryman in thanks. 

The path takes him to the Fields of Asphodel, where he sees how the dead wander in eternal monotony. Their eyes are sunken and blank, their forms just a little more than shadows of what they had been in life. As Charles passed, many began to stir, drawing to the scuffing of his steps. 

“Play for us,” they whisper, their voice dry like the leaves of fall rustling in the wind. “Play for us and you will pass safely.” 

Though it makes Charles’s heart jump in his chest, he stops to bring the lyre up higher to play. He plays the only tune that comes to his head, the one he had played for you the night you had kissed for the first time. It begins soft as it did before, only growing sadder and he remembers why he’s playing it in the first place. The souls gather around him, their movements slow as they listen. Many weep at the song, their shadows trembling as the last note fades into the dark air. Slowly they part, allowing him to continue. 

It is not long after that that he reaches the palace of the king under the earth. Hades and Persephone wait for him, their thrones looming above him at the end of the hall. The queen looks down at him with sympathy in her eyes contrasted by her husband’s cold and unreadable gaze. 

“You have come far, mortal,” Persephone tells him, her voice soft. “And your music has touched even the dead.”

Hades leans forward, his tone as sharp as the edge of a blade. “We will grant you what you seek. She may return to the world above. But you must remember the condition: you must not look back at her until you both have reached the light of day. Should you fail, she will suffer in the fields of punishment for both of your treacheries.”

“I understand,” Charles said, his voice steady though his heart raced.

You appear just as he turns back toward the path. He hears you call his name, the warning ringing in his mind, don’t turn back. His eyes fill with tears as he feels you press your head to his face, the fabric of his tattered tunic wetting with your tears. Your fingers wrap around his wrist gently as if to tell him, I’m here. 

“I’ll follow where you lead,” you whisper. “Take me home.”

Your ascend begins, each step growing heavier than the other. The patter sounds like a faint drumming that pounds as the terrain changes and changes. Their soft scuffle of your sandals is the only sign Charles knows you’re there. But it doesn’t keep the doubts from slipping into his mind. Is this truly there? Have the gods tricked him?

You eventually reach the obsidian path, the final stretch, Charles thinks. You climb, higher and higher, Charles stopping every now and then to listen for you. 

“It’s ok,” you remind him. “I’m coming.” Though it reassures him momentarily, it soon disappears and he has to stop again. The whispers of the underground grew louder as the light at the top of the tunnel grew larger. They swirled around him, each word needling into his mind. She’s not there. You’re wasting your time. You failed her once already, why would they give her back?

His breath quickens as he doesn’t hear your steps, calling out your name. “I’m coming, I’m coming. Wait for me.” you huff and now he can hear you and your slow steps. You trudge on. His heart screamed at him to look back, even just for a moment, just to be sure. But he doesn’t, he knows he mustn't. 

The light is just ahead now, so close Charles can feel the warmth of the sun. But the silence has returned, making his chest tighten in his chest. His breath came in shallow gasps, it was too much. The urge to turn, it consumed him. He finally turns, his body trembling with the effort to resist, as if there was something begging him not to look back. He calls your name as he does, seeing you just a few feet away. 

You were there, alive and just as radiant than the moment he lost you. For a moment your eyes brighten as you meet them, but it doesn’t last long. 

The shadows surround you, wrapping around your legs and torso. 

“Charles, no!” you cry out, your eyes filling with tears. You try to push your legs to walk but with no avail, the shadows holding you in place. Your hand reaches out for his, desperate as they brush the air between you. He takes off in a sprint, lunging towards you. 

He sees the terror in your face as if to say don’t let them take me as the shadows begin to close around your face. It is the expression he saw in the moment just beyond the treeline. And he can’t bear the twisting feeling it creates in his gut. 

The last thing he sees are your eyes, tears steaming and evaporating into the shadows before there's a strong wind, pulling you away and pushing him out into the light. 

Charles awakens to the warmth of the sun as it caresses its cruel hand on his skin. It almost pains him as he opens his eyes and realizes where he’s laying. He sits up, seeing his lyre on the ground before him. Between the strings, there’s a carnation, its stem threaded there. He clutches his chest, gasping as he cries. “Gods, please!” he cries, fingers digging into the dirt beneath him. But there is no one there to hear him. 

☾ ⋆・゚:⋆

From then on, his music changes. People stop asking him to play at their parties, more asking for him to play at wakes or funerals. It still carries magic, and though people still stop and stare,  many say his songs are no longer for this world.  He plays for no one but you now, hoping the gods might take pity on him again. But they never do.

Index:

Apollo - God of the Sun, music, prophecy, healing, and the arts. Eros - Greek god of love, passion, and fertility. Hades - God of the Underworld and the dead, ruler of the realm of the departed. Persephone - Goddess of Spring and Queen of the Underworld. Daughter of Demeter. Dionysus - God of wine, revelry, and ecstasy. Thanatos - Personification of Death. Often depicted as a gentle, peaceful figure who guides souls to the afterlife rather than a force of violence or terror. Nyx- Primordial Goddess of the Night.

a/n: i genuinely have no idea how i got to almost 6k words but if you're here, I wanna say thank you so much for reading. Any feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

[saffron-gold-stardust]

Alright I’ve been meaning to post these kids FOREVERRR and I’m just gonna do it now!!! Pls… have this little sunrise trio: Lux, Seraphine (Sera), and Cosmo! I love Lux a ton btw, and I always wanted to include her with any other Cream ship kids I made. I’ll put more rambles beneath the cut.

Lux created by Jakei95 btw!

These kids aren’t tied to the cream comic btw, prolly goes without saying, but yeah. Their timeline follows this post-underverse storyline idea I have (the New Days tag, tho there isnt much there rn). Per ~the lore~, they are half elemental and half monster. The family is based out of a restored Xtale, in a house the king and queen gifted Cross and Dream for their wedding uwu

Lux (19, she/they)— The oldest daughter of Cross and Dream. She’s level-headed and relaxed, but still has a bit of cheekiness and mischief to her. A bit of a diplomat at heart, she currently has a small intern gig at the castle where she works as a liason for monsterkind, and doesn’t mind the thought of one day doing similar work in the multiverse for Xtale. She’s extremely studious and loves reading; even now she likes to spend the evening curled up to couch with a book, next to one of her dads. She’s got a serious knack for monster magic, and leans on it the most during sparring sessions. Her emotion abilities relate to feelings of calm and relaxation/rejuvination.

Seraphine (Sera) (16, she/her)— The spitfyre, the yapper, the forthright, Sera is athletic and very passionate. She has her dads’ strong senses of justice and fairness, as well as their stubbornness, and from a young age picked fights with bullies and authority alike. I’m not saying XUndyne has tossed a baby, but I’m also not saying XUndyne hasn’t tossed a baby. She never quite got a grasp on the diplomacy her older sister and Papa (Dream) have, but she does her best, and is a genuinely sunny and kind soul to be around. (It’s fine she’s 16 she’ll figure it out eventually). Her main mode of sparring is in swordplay, which she seriously began learning around 11. Her emotion abilities relate to feelings of justice.

Cosmo (10, he/him)— The youngest of the three, and the only son. Cosmo is very sweet and shy, and tends to be reserved in the kinds of activities he takes part in. He’s not the biggest fan of school, and really dislikes sparring, so Cross and Dream don’t force him too much. He looks up to his sisters and adores them, and it goes without saying that they spoil and baby him quite a bit. He likes spending his time in nature, and likes to keep a field journal with doodles and notes on his finds. All that said, he’s the most in tune with his elemetal powers, and already is a much stronger empath than Lux, a big reason for his overstimulation in social situations. His emotion abilities relate to inspiring hope in others.

Plssss feel free to ask me questions about them, I adore talking about my babbies, hehe.

Oh yeah since cosmo isnt fully shown in these two, here’s a wip of his reference:

[sandwitchstories]

Dango and Dragons

Hey hey everyone! Its been far too long since I shared some new Daddy Duty content regularly, so here you go! I give to you all this silly little story about Dad!Sukuna and Mouse

If you prefer to read it on AO3 click here !

WC: 1800+

Summary: To distract the toddler climbing the walls in her father's absence, Reader and Mouse decide to have a picnic. They are pleasantly surprised by the duo's return and a gift Sukuna bought for Mouse (and Uraume).

AN: To anyone new to my Daddy Duty series- Mouse is Sukuna's two year old daughter. Welcome to Mouse's Mini-verse!

Quick note about a couple of terms used in story: Shiroshi = what kites were called durin the Heian era. It translates into basically 'paper bird' Takoge = kite flying festival (along with kite flying they also sometimes included a night parade and kite battles!)

CW: Reader is not described but referred to as Mama, reader is pregnant, there are several suggestive comments made between reader and Sukuna (they are lowkey obsessed with each other- but it's okay- they are married, your honor), family fluff

You smiled as you carried the basket full of food and snacks with one hand as Mouse held onto the other. She was happily singing a song she made up as she went, pausing occasionally to look at something or ask you a question.

Sukuna and Uraume had been gone for several days and Mouse was climbing the walls. The weather was nice and you had no obligations to attend to. It seemed like the perfect day to go for a picnic. 

The two of you had spent the morning making and packing up a basket full of your favorite things, including extras of everything as Mouse had insisted, stating that the other two members of your family could be back at any time and they would probably be hungry too. You smiled and happily agreed. Whatever was not eaten now could be eaten later. Waste not want not!

The two of you had just finished laying out the blanket and setting out little plates of the food when Mouse shot upright and looked towards the horizon. She rushed to the basket and grabbed out a cookie for each hand. You were about to ask her what she was doing when two figures came into view. One a great deal larger and broader than the other. 

Her abilities to sense her father were even more attuned than yours were. You smiled as she got excited. She waited, bouncing back and forth between her feet. She knew the rules. Until Papa said it was okay to come to him, she had to stay by Mama. It was for her safety and she knew that, but she could only muster so much patience at 2 years old. 

“Mama! I think he walking too slow,” Mouse almost growled at you as she squatted down cookies still safely clutched in her tiny hands. “I gonna fix it.”

“And how are you going to fix that?” You asked, amused and curious just what she thought she could do to ‘fix’ the speed at which her father was walking.

“Like this,” she said, standing up. She carefully set the cookies down on the blanket and cupped her hands around her mouth. She proceeded to yell at the top of her lungs, “Faster, Papa! Please and thank you!”

You choked down a laugh, covering your mouth with your hands. “You think he heard you?”

“Don’t seem it,” she pressed her lips together in a frown and called again. “I said FASTER PLEASE AND THANK YOU, PAPA!”

“Why should I?” Sukuna’s voice called back, you could hear the amusement in his tone from where you sat and it made you smile. 

“You taking too long!” She called back.

“Then you come to me, brat!”

She snatched up the cookies and took off running at the speed of light towards him. “I coming, Papa! I bringing cookies, Papa!”

You watched as he handed something to Uraume as Mouse approached and he grabbed her up into his arms. You were impressed with Mouse’s hold on the cookies as her father tossed her laughing form up into the air and caught her. 

You couldn’t hear the exchange from the distance they were still at, but just the sight of the three of them walking towards you was enough to make your heart swell with love. Mouse, Sukuna and Uraume- your beautiful little family. Your everything.

You rose to your feet to greet them as they drew near. Sukuna set Mouse down as Uraume moved to set the things they were holding by the picnic basket. Mouse was happily telling Uraume about all the goodies you had brought with you. Sukuna’s eyes, however, were on you and you alone.

He pulled you closer with an arm around your waist and gave you several soft kisses. “Miss me, precious one?”

“A little,” you teased, cupping his face and kissing him again.

“I missed you a lot, Papa!” Mouse said, plopping down on the blanket and taking a bite of a cookie. She looked at Uraume and said, “I missed you too, Urau-rau. You cook better than Mama.”

You sputtered even though you knew it was the truth. “What was that?”

She turned towards you and gave you a giant smile before saying in a comforting tone, “It okay, Mama. You tried.”

While a part of you wanted to wipe the smirk off Uraume's face, a larger part of you was looking forward to a little alone time with a certain someone’s Papa. You and Mouse both being on Uraume’s good side would make things a lot easier to negotiate. 

“Uraume is a very good cook,” you agreed, sitting down as Sukuna did as well. 

“You just want me to watch her tonight,” Uraume said in a soft tone, shooting you a side glare.

“I do! You know me so well!” You agreed, giving them a wink. “But you are a good cook.”

Mouse started emptying out the basket, personally hand delivering the treats to each person. She grabbed a skewer of dango in either hand before moving to plop down in Sukuna’s lap, leaning her back against him. She grinned up at him and held up one of the skewers. “Want some, Papa?”

“I have my own, brat. Those are yours,” he said, ruffling her hair with a free hand while he smirked down at her. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but you could see by the look in his eyes and the way his fingers combed through her hair just how much he had missed her. How much he loved her. It made you tear up a little. Damn these pregnancy hormones. 

“What brought home, Papa?” Mouse asked, using the dango in one hand to gesture towards the parcels Uraume had set down.

“Why? You think there is something there for you?” He asked, eating one of the cookies Mouse had given him.

“Yes,” she said with a grin. 

“What makes you think you deserve it? Hmm?” he asked, poking her chubby little belly with his finger, making her giggle up at him.

“I been good. Please and thank you, Papa!” 

“Have you though?”

“She has been,” you replied. “She has been a big helper the whole time you were gone.”

“I take good care of Mama, Papa!” she chirped up at him as she finished her snacks in record time. 

“Alright… Uraume, give it to me,” Sukuna instructed, eating another cookie.

Uraume set aside their snacks and grabbed the securely wrapped package and brought it to Sukuna. He used two hands to help Mouse unwrap it. Together they reveal a beautiful, brightly colored shiroshi. The diamond shaped bamboo frame held together a stunning fabric that depicted the image of a red dragon with bright blues and yellows behind it. 

“What this Papa?” Mouse asked.

“It is called a shiroshi. It flies in the sky in the wind,” he explained.

“It windy! We do it now, please and thank you, Papa!” she looked up at him excitedly, her chubby hands laying lovingly on the material.

“I don’t know…” he drawled out.

“Don’t be a tease. Go on and show us your skills, King of Curses,” you teased with a smirk.

��Oh, I’ll show you my skills alright,” he said in a low tone, smirking right back at you.

“With the shiroshi,” you rolled your eyes even as your heart fluttered at his blatant flirting. Still got it!

“Yeah, Papa! Show meeeee!” Mouse said, trying to wiggle out of his hold.

“Uraume, would you do the honors?” Sukuna asked, cocking his head.

Uraume’s eyes got big and they hurried to swallow the food they were chewing. “You want… me to fly it, Master Sukuna?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it. I mean, you are the one who picked it out…” Sukuna shrugged.

“Urau-rau, you pick it for me?” Mouse’s face lit up.

“I merely pointed them out,” Uraume answered. “But if it would please you, Master Sukuna, I will be happy to.”

Sukuna moved the shiroshi so that Mouse scrambled off of his lap. She bolted to Uraume’s side. She hugged their arm, looking up at them with a big, toothy grin. “Thank you, Urau-rau!! Lets go fly it now, please and thank you!”

Uraume sighed and rolled their eyes, feigning annoyance even as their eyes softened just the slightest bit and the smallest smile ghosted on their lips. They moved to stand, taking the large object from Sukuna’s outstretched hand and walking a bit away with Mouse in tow, skippin beside them. 

Sukuna took advantage and moved to sit beside you. He wrapped two arms around you and pulled you close, one large hand holding your shoulder, the other moved lower to splay and rest over your slightly distended belly. The thumbs on both hands immediately began mindlessly tracing a pattern. He kissed the top of your head as you laid it on his broad shoulder. 

You reached over to take one of his other hands, locking your fingers together and bringing them to your lips. You placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles before lowering your hands to rest idly, fingers still locked. 

You smiled as you watched Uraume battling the wind and Mouse before getting the shiroshi flying high in the sky. They held onto the rope, concerned the wind would be too strong for Mouse’s hold. It was an adorable sight to see, and even from here you could see the enjoyment on Uraume’s face.

“During our travels, when Uraume was a child, we came upon a Takoage festival. They have never really asked for anything, you know this about them, but I could see the enjoyment in their eyes as they watched the shiroshi soar above our heads. We stayed for the duration of the festival. The next day I bought them one, and they spent hours… and hours flying it. I threatened to dismantle the damn thing if they didn’t set it down to fulfil their duties and train,” Sukuna recounted to you, a small smile on his face as he watched them.

“Really? Huh,” you said, taking it in and imagining it with a smile on your face. “Admit it… you just wanted to take a turn flying it, huh?”

“If I had wanted to take a turn, I would have take a damn turn,” he grumbled, causing you to chuckle.

“Mama! Papa! Look! We gots a real dragon! It flying! It going WOOOOOOSH!” Mouse called, spreading her arms wide and running in circles around Uraume, imitating a dragon in flight.

“Be careful or it might get you!” you teasingly called out.

“Silly Mama! It not a real dragon, it no eat me!” Mouse’s laughter carried as easily on the wind as the shiroshi flying high above her head.

Sukuna relaxed against the tree behind him, fully at peace. How could he not be? The weather was nice. The snacks were delicious. His beloved was in his arms and his daughter was happily harassing his disciple just a few yards away. Soon there would be another welp causing mayhem alongside their sister. He couldn’t wait.

[anthurak]

Having been rewatching some of Ice Queendom lately, I’d like to talk about something I really wanted to discuss after the series wrapped, but haven’t gotten around to until now.

Namely, the shows use of Jaune, and specifically how it’s one of my biggest issues with the anime.

Now talking about this is somewhat complicated because I don’t have any issues with how Ice Queendom presents and writes Jaune directly. In fact I was actually pretty IMPRESSED watching the show at the frankly keen understanding the writers seemed to have of Jaune’s character and what he’s meant to represent.

Namely, that Jaune is a massive subversion of so many classic male fantasy-hero protagonists. He’s NOT some cool, badass fighter and whenever he tries to be one, he gets his ass handed to him. Instead, he’s able to show his real strength by supporting and helping others.

And there’s a bunch of great subtle details like how Jaune’s dream weapon being this flashy, oversized sword that he just cannot fucking use not matter how hard he tries is just the PERFECT metaphor for his character in the early volumes. A weapon that represents all the ‘big strong hero guy’ expectations Jaune believed he had to live up to at the beginning of the show but is actually IMPOSSIBLE for him to use because that’s NOT what he’s really meant for. And the one time he IS able to wield that sword is though the assistance and support of his friends, namely (dream)Pyrrha, which in turn provides a great hint towards his still-dormant semblance.

Instead, the real issue I have is that every time I look back on Ice Queendom and see Jaune, I can’t help but ask myself ‘Why is Jaune even here?’ Specifically, WHY does the story need Jaune to be Team RWBY’s ‘guest party member’ to go into Weiss’s dream to rescue her from the Nightmare?

Now sure, they bring up the idea that Jaune having just been possessed by a Nightmare basically ‘inoculated’ him to the Grimm and could allow him to be undetected by the Nightmare possessing Weiss. But let’s be real; that’s a justification, NOT a true narrative REASON for Jaune to be going into Weiss’s Nightmare.

Because what actual connection does Jaune even HAVE to Weiss that would give him a thematic reason to be going into her Nightmare? He’s not on her team and they only even met a few weeks ago. Especially given that IQ even removes almost all references to Jaune having any kind of big crush on Weiss. During Ruby’s first visit to the nightmare, we see what Weiss thinks of him:

Lumped in with Nora, Ren, Cardin and literally everyone else she doesn’t have time or patience for.

So what’s the actual narrative potential of Jaune joining Ruby, Blake and Yang to save Weiss? How can he tie into the story of Weiss’s character and Ruby’s, Blake’s and Yang’s attempts to free her?

Simply put, he can’t. And so he DOESN’T. Instead it feels like the only reason Jaune is here is simply because he’s the most prominent supporting character in the franchise.

And the REASON this sticks out to me so much is that I can’t help but think that a different character would have made a far, far BETTER option to join Ruby, Blake and Yang to save Weiss:

PYRRHA.

I mean, the reasons for Pyrrha going into the Nightmare to help Weiss kinda write themselves, right? From minute one it’s clear the Weiss idolizes Pyrrha, and it’s really all but outright stated she has a huge crush on Pyrrha. It’s only natural that Ruby, Blake and Yang would go to her for help getting past Weiss’s emotional defenses in the dream.

Like I think it’s easy to imagine how Ruby might happen upon this idea: In her first entry into Weiss’s Nightmare, Ruby could note that Jaune, Ren and Nora are all in ‘Silly Jail’, but Pyrrha notably ISN’T. And later while scouting or perhaps while fleeing from Weiss, perhaps Ruby catches a glimpse, far off, of Pyrrha within the walls of Weiss’s castle, perhaps looking out a window.

And when Ruby mentions this to the others, Shion could comment that this means that Pyrrha is special to Weiss, and thus keeps her memory ‘close’ to her. At this point we’d probably get Yang chiming in with a quip about how Weiss ‘Hasn’t exactly been subtle about that.’

Then of course, one of Ruby, Blake or Yang hit on the idea that if they brought Pyrrha into the nightmare, she might be able to get past Weiss’s defenses much more easily. Something which Shion confirms to be very likely. From there, RBY seek out Pyrrha for her help much like what happened with Jaune. But with the difference being that Pyrrha being some kind of ‘secret weapon’ feels FAR more natural based on what we already saw in the show up to that point.

And from that point on, I feel like it’s kind of obvious just how well Pyrrha would fit into the narrative and both Weiss’s and Ruby’s character arcs. Like I joked about a ‘White Rose/Schneekos Love Triangle’ while the show was airing, but that’s kind of exactly what we see potentially set up in the first three episodes of IQ:

Weiss is clearly massively enamored with and idolizes Pyrrha, while Ruby really wants Weiss to like her and be friends with her.

And placing Pyrrha into the nightmare as a major figure alongside Ruby, Blake and Yang for Weiss gives the perfect opportunities to play Pyrrha and Ruby off of Weiss. Exploring what Weiss being so enamored with Pyrrha actually means to her, what that could mean for her feelings about Ruby, and how Ruby and Pyrrha could get her to confront those feelings.

Imagine the story making a point about Weiss having essentially put Pyrrha up on the constructed, idealized pedestal instead of knowing the actual Pyrrha, and then contrasting this by showing that Ruby actually embodies so many of the traits Weiss idolizes Pyrrha for.

Which in turn has Pyrrha being the one to help Weiss realize that.

Not to mention on the flipside, this change would give us a lot of Pyrrha and Ruby interaction. Which I think we can all agree would be VERY fun and interesting.

I mean just picture Ruby really wanting Pyrrha’s help to save Weiss, while also clearly repressing a fair bit of insecurity and maybe even a bit of jealousy over how enamored Weiss is with Pyrrha, which in turn leads to a meaningful and cute conversation where Pyrrha gives Ruby a much-needed pep-talk while also diving into Pyrrha’s own well-hidden insecurities and generally revealing just how similar these two really are.

Which in turn perfectly plays into Ruby’s journey to save Weiss across Ice Queendom.

Finally, there is a more subtle, but perhaps most meaningful reason why I think Pyrrha would have made a much better option over Jaune:

For as well as Ice Queendom writes him, we really don’t learn anything new about Jaune that we didn’t already know. The fact is, we know Jaune pretty well after the (at the time of IQ’s release) eight volumes he’s had in the show.

So what if instead of a character we’ve already spent all this time with, what if Ice Queendom focused on a character we only had three volumes to get to know?

A character who, unlike Jaune, Nora, Ren or basically any of the other supporting characters at this time in the story, is no longer around to get focus or development.

Simply put, Pyrrha being the member of Team JNPR to get the most focus in Ice Queendom would have been a chance to explore and develop a character who we simply DON’T have opportunity to do so in the series proper.

[thanossssss]

i eat up all ur posts bro, can you do another fic of nam gyu & thanos? like SLIGHT angst? thanks ! (regressor thanos, cg nam gyu)

Regressor! Thanos w/ Caregiver! Nam-gyu

Summary: Thanos has a bad performance one night and ends up accidentally regressing while on stage, after forgetting his lyrics. Fortunately, Nam-gyu’s there to help him out and make him happy.

Contains: Age regression, crying, Thanos refers to Nam-gyu as “Daddy”, stuffed animals, pacifiers, sippy cups, cuddling, head kisses.

A/N: The forgetting lyrics part is based off the fact that Myung-gi made fun of Thanos for forgetting his lyrics at one of his shows, so that’s where the inspiration for this fic came from. Also, please don’t make this story out to be something it’s not just because the word “Daddy” is used a couple times. It’s not used in a way that’s meant to be weird, and is used in a way that’s more so just a comfort thing.

Not proofread.

Thanos usually had a fun time preforming and would always have a ton of energy, but tonight was different. The first few songs he had energy, though after that, it all went downhill. He felt a bit out of it and couldn’t find the energy to preform like he often did.

The last couple of songs he did, weren’t well preformed. He didn’t look or sound happy and he just didn’t seem like he was doing well. He only had one more song to preform, then he could finally go to his hotel room and just unwind.

The bright lights shined down on Thanos as he stood on stage in front of hundreds of people. He waited for the music to start playing, but when it did, his mind immediately went blank. He couldn’t remember anything about this song, not a single lyric.

Thanos completely froze as he only stared out into the crowd. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, all he could do was stand there. He felt his breathing become heavy and tears slowly welling up in his eyes. Thanos had never experienced anything like this, he never got stage fright or anxious during a show, so he couldn’t understand why this was happening now.

Nam-gyu had been watching the entire show from backstage and when he saw how nervous Thanos looked right now, he knew something was wrong. Nam-gyu already was suspecting that Thanos was having an off night, but this only proved his thought to be right. This wasn’t normal behavior.

“Hey, cut his mic and turn off the music and lights. Something’s wrong.” Nam-gyu whispered to one of the workers, who nodded and went to do as they were told.

The sounds of the crowd murmuring and seeing some of them leave only made Thanos even more upset and stressed, to the point where he was starting to regress, as if things couldn’t get any worse for him.

However, Thanos was lucky that, before it was obvious that he was regressed, the stage lights shut off and the music was turned off. Thanos slowly backed off the stage, whimpering quietly, before throwing his headset on the stage and running backstage, over to Nam-gyu.

“Daddy!” Thanos cried out as he threw himself in Nam-gyu’s arms and hugged him as tightly as he could. So that’s why he froze up, Nam-gyu thought, he’s regressed. Nam-gyu hugged the taller man back, shushing him softly while he cried into his shoulder.

Some of the workers were giving them, mostly Thanos, weird and confusing looks, but Nam-gyu wasn’t worried about that. He could explain to them later if they asked questions. Right now, he was more concerned on comforting Thanos.

“I didn’ mean to! I..I didn’ know the lyrics and I couldn’t…I couldn’t think! I’m s..sorry!” Thanos stuttered, his body trembling a bit. He was so worked up over what happened, Nam-gyu felt awful for him.

“Buddy, it’s not your fault. That was out of your control, you don’t need to apologize for it.” Nam-gyu told him. Thanos sniffled quietly, then let out another sob. He felt embarrassed and ashamed for making such a mistake, especially in front of so many people. Even if it wasn’t his fault, he still felt humiliated.

“Hey, I think we should go ahead and leave, okay? We can go back to our hotel room and relax. Try and forget about tonight, sound good?” Thanos nodded, another sniffle coming from him as he lifted his head up from Nam-gyu’s shoulder.

“Carry me..” He mumbled as he put his arms up. Nam-gyu bit his lip, holding back a laugh. “I’ll carry you when we get to the hotel. Right now, I need you to walk to the car, alright?” Nam-gyu responded. He would’ve carried him, but there were too many people around who knew Thanos, and Nam-gyu didn’t want pictures or videos of him being carried out surfacing on the internet, and he knew Thanos definitely wouldn’t want that either.

Thanos pouted at Nam-gyu’s response. He did not feel like walking all the way to the car, it was too far of a walk. Well, it wasn’t really, but with Thanos being regressed, to him it was definitely a long walk.

“Come on, pouty. Let’s hurry up and leave.” Nam-gyu grabbed Thanos’s hand and began to lead him out, through the back door. Thanos whined the entirety of the way, dragging his feet.

When they got to the car, Nam-gyu helped Thanos into the passenger’s seat and put his seatbelt on for him. It took a couple tries to do, since Thanos didn’t want to put his seatbelt on and kept pushing Nam-gyu’s hand away, but after about a minute, Nam-gyu was able to buckle him in.

Nam-gyu quickly got in the car as well and began driving to the hotel, while music played loudly in the car. Nam-gyu knew how much Thanos loved loud music, both regressed or not, so he wasn’t surprised by Thanos’s sudden mood change after the music started playing. He was the total opposite of what he had been, and was now just very giggly and happy while he listened to the music.

Once they finally arrived at the hotel, Nam-gyu got out of the car and went to go get Thanos. He opened the car door, only to be met with a very smiley Thanos.

“Up, Daddy! Up! Up!” Thanos exclaimed, immediately putting his arms up when Nam-gyu unbuckled his seatbelt. He then got Thanos out of the car, and picked him up, carrying him over to the hotel. It was around midnight, so Nam-gyu wasn’t worried about anyone seeing them.

Despite the height difference, Nam-gyu didn’t have much trouble holding and carrying Thanos around, as long as he stayed still. If he was moving around a ton, then it would definitely be a lot more difficult. Fortunately, Thanos didn’t move once while Nam-gyu carried him to the hotel room. He’d only move his head, so he could look at his surroundings.

As soon as they got into the room, Nam-gyu practically tossed Thanos on one of the beds, in a playful manner. It made Thanos immediately break out into a fit of laughter.

While it wasn’t the best idea to get Thanos so wound up with him being regressed and the time being midnight, Nam-gyu didn’t really care all that much. Thanos needed and deserved to have fun after the night he just had, plus Nam-gyu knew he’d get tired soon.

Thanos crawled over to the edge of the bed and put his arms up. “Again! Again!” He giggled, squealing instantly when Nam-gyu picked him up and tossed him back on the bed. This went on for a good five minutes, before Thanos got off of the bed and went over to one of his bags.

He did bring some of his regression items with him, since regressing after his shows always helped him completely unwind from them. Nam-gyu followed him over, watching as he unzipped his bag.

“What are you looking for?” Nam-gyu asked. “My kitty. An’ my other stuff.” Thanos answered while rummaging around in his bag. He pulled out his cat stuffed animal, which was light purple and white. It was a gift from Nam-gyu, so Thanos cherished the item a lot. Thanos also pulled out his pacifier and sippy cup. He placed the pacifier into his mouth, then looked up at Nam-gyu while trying to hand him the sippy cup.

“What do you want?” Nam-gyu questioned as he took the cup from him. “Juice!” Thanos responded happily. “Alright, bud. Can you pick out your pajamas while I get your juice?” Thanos nodded, so Nam-gyu went to get him so juice.

There was a mini fridge in the room, so that’s where Nam-gyu got the juice from. Though, he filled the sippy cup about halfway up with juice, then watered it down, since Thanos was slowly settling down and he didn’t want him staying up and being hyper all night.

Once Nam-gyu had the sippy cup ready, he went back over to Thanos, who had his pajamas all ready. He picked out a short sleeve t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants.

“Here, little man.” Nam-gyu said as he handed Thanos his sippy cup. Thanos giggled in response and began to drink his juice, letting his pacifier he previously had fall to the ground. Though, Nam-gyu picked it up and wiped it off, then set it on a stand for now.

“Is this what you want to wear, buddy?” Thanos nodded while Nam-gyu picked up the clothes. “Okay. Finish up your juice, then I’ll get you changed. Sound good?” Thanos smiled at Nam-gyu and gave him a thumbs up, making the shorter man chuckle.

Thanos drank about half of his juice, before placing his sippy cup on the floor and putting his arms up. “Ready!” He told Nam-gyu, who smiled at him and quickly got him changed into his pajamas.

“Take whatever you need and go get comfortable in bed. I’ll be there in a second, I just need to change into my pajamas.” Nam-gyu said to Thanos. “‘Kay! Be super, super quick!” Thanos responded, making Nam-gyu laughed. “Yeah yeah, I will. Now go on.” He spoke, playfully giving Thanos a tiny shove as he ran over to the bed.

Like Thanos told him to be, Nam-gyu was super quick to get into his pajamas. When he was done, he went over to Thanos and laid in bed next to him. Thanos looked over at him, while in the middle of finishing up his juice, and pointed at the tv.

“We can watch a little tv, but then you have to get to bed. You get way too grumpy if you don’t get enough sleep.” Nam-gyu teased as he turned the tv on. Thanos only huffed in response.

Nam-gyu put on some cartoons for Thanos, who started to cuddle up to him. He left his now empty sippy cup on the other side of the bed and had his kitty stuffed animal in his arms and his pacifier back in his mouth. Nam-gyu gave Thanos a small kiss on his head, before beginning to play with his hair.

Thanos yawned, rubbing his face a little against Nam-guy’s shirt. He was so sleepy now, it felt like it came out of nowhere. Nam-gyu was just thankful that Thanos was actually calm about it being bedtime. Normally, he’d have a huge fit over it, but he seemed too tired to want to stay up.

“Good night, little dude. I love you.” Nam-gyu whispered to him. Thanos softly hummed. “Night night. Love you..” He responded quietly.

Thanos didn’t even get to finish the episode of the cartoon Nam-gyu had put on for him, since he ended up falling asleep. Nam-gyu smiled at Thanos, while continuing to play with his hair. He was glad he was able to make Thanos happy and have a better night than how it started off.

[mscherub]

Witchy Ways 🕸️

I fear this has not been proofread, so if you see spelling or grammatical errors, I am the queen of that so, yea, u have been warned 😎

Look at this post for my reasoning behind even writing this —> Witchy Ways Starters

Reader is gender neutral, and referred to as either Prefect or Y/N

Warnings!:

Reader does Witchcraft 💖

Swearing

I don’t really think there’s anything major…

Word count:

1.9k

Part 1: “Alchemy Exams Are…Easy?”, TBD

Prologue:

Well…ending up in Twisted Wonderland wasn’t exactly a bad thing for you in a sense granted that magic has always interested you from a young age. Here it’s not just a concept or something that requires intention, like what you’ve learned, no, here it’s physical, real, and it’s able to be seen in real time! No having to wait to see spells take effect, nah, they happen right then and there. And you can see spirits? And talking animals like Grim? It’s like a dream come true!

And of course, the best part of all, it’s widely accepted and integrated into almost every culture that spans across this world you’ve only gotten to see a sliver of here at NRC, a complete contrast to your world where even the idea of magic or witchcraft is a one way ticket straight to hell if you practice in it, or so the people say. But unfortunately, you can’t even perform magic yourself here since you don’t possess that type of power, which is something you’ve grown to accept, because now you are able to marvel at what real magic is like, and not just the way you’ve been performing it your entire life thus far.

A bonus is that all the knowledge you've gained of witchcraft back in your world, contrary to belief, is more useful here than one may think, assisting you in alchemy and even History classes. You know a lot already, and by the Sevens does it help you out especially in overblot situations.

Others say you have a questionable aura, not in a bad way they say, but it’s odd, and enigma, and when they look at you they can’t help but notice that you always seem to glow, emitting a sort of energy that is different from any other non-magic user that they’ve ever encountered. They ended up chalking it down to that, since you were from another world, you were just weird in that way, and that it was a normal thing for you. Great reasoning, I guess…

You haven’t told anyone you do this ”otherworldly magic,” so, just like anything you’ve grown accustomed to, some habits that you’ve picked up from your learnings still manage to slip their way through in your new life here, and those actions are viewed as awkward and weird by the others because it’s quite literally a foreign subject. How do you break it to them that magic does technically exist in your world but it’s not exactly the same…

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Part 1: Alchemy Exams Are…Easy?

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“Ok…so.” Deuce drawls on as he looks down at his notebook with a defeated look, like his notebook was mocking him for not knowing the answer.

“So?” You sigh as you fidget with the pencil in your hand. Helping the first year group study was normal, you all got close, and having a little study session was always a good way to ensure that at least the majority of the group would get a passing grade…most.

“Uh…ok, well…wait, what was the question again?” Deuce sighs as he looks back up at you with a pout.

“Bro, they just said it like for the second time a minute ago…” Ace sighs as he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t get snippy.” You remind him.

Pens are scattered about the table, along with books, grimoires, erasers, and drinks and snacks galore. It was the time to lock in, and some found it more difficult than others.

“What are cloves usually used for within potions? The effects of it in the potion more so.” You repeat. You watch Deuce, almost being able to hear the gears turning and clicking within his head. If he thought any harder than this smoke may come out of his ears.

“Effects of cloves within a potion…ok. Well…cloves are used for, well, mainly used for…erm…” he sighs, his hands encase his head on either side and he bobs his leg up and down underneath the table.

“Deuce…think.” You say gently. You smile at him, hoping it’d do something at least.

“Hexes?” He spits out, looking at you while pursing his lips.

“Ah…what are they used for in potions?” You look right back at him and shake your head. “We can try again with the next question…” you murmur. You clear your throat, and without looking at your notes, answer the question for him.

“Answer: cloves are mainly used in potions to aid in protection, protecting oneself from negative forces if potion is consumed, and it’s most commonly used within love potions because it draws love and money in.” You say, not stuttering once.

“Yep, I’m failing!” Deuce groans as he burrows his head in his arms.

“Don’t say that—“

“I can’t even answer a question as simple as that…I’m not gonna do good! Yet you seem to know it all!” He doesn’t even look up, huffing into his arms.

“Ok…could any of you have answered that question?” You look around at everyone at the table. Ace tenses up and he looks away, Jack’s tail stops swishing and his ears flatten against his head, Epel looks down at a blank page in his notebook, Sebek crosses his arms and lets out a small huff, Grim looks guilty, and ortho, well, he’s ortho-

“Mmm! I could have! Idia helped me with the basic knowledge of alchemy. It’s quite simple! Having access to the internet and multiple databases allowed me to read up on a lot!”

“You and Ortho both have it down…Prefect I don’t get how you know so much. No offense or anything, but you’re certain you’re magicless, right? Cause how come you seem to know more than all the folk here?” Epel sighs as he puts his pen down, not making another attempt to write anything.

Think of a rebuttal quick, uh-

“I liked biology and chemistry back in my world. Great classes. We, erm, experimented a lot and you know, you have to get to know the elements and what you're working with.” You shrug. Good enough.

More sighs and puffs of air are produced from the boys around the table and all you can do is find some patience and do your best to help them study. You knew you’d do fine.

Well, and at least you knew one of them would pass…man did they need some good luck. Hmmm…Good luck.

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Being the great friend you are, you spent the night before the exams doing last minute check ups with where everyone was within the material. They all got a little better, a nice gap of improvement from the last study session, so you had some hope.

But you couldn’t watch your friends suffer, no, so you decided to make them something that would hopefully aid them in their troubles, which would be this upcoming exam.

“The hell is this?” Ace inspects the little bottle sealed off with a cork and yellow wax dripped over the top. Inside the small jar contains various items, such as salt, cinnamon, rosemary, oregano, parsley, ginger, thyme, and orange peels. What for? Well, you knew it was a good luck spell jar, something you made yourself frequently. To them, it just seemed like some seasoning packet.

“Do I put this on food?” Grim hums.

You shake your head and don’t say anything else.

“Is it a stimulant, human? I don’t believe this is permitted—“

“It’s…for good luck.”

…

“How is this little thing gonna do me any luck? Just a whole bunch of herbs and spices mixed together. Prefect, I thought you were smart.” Ace huffs.

“Ok, rude, and just trust me. I put hard work into those for you guys.”

They go quiet and you can see Deuce elbow Ace, telling him to keep his mouth shut about any other further remarks he may have.

“Look. Keep them on you while you take your exam. When have I ever even remotely let you guys down?”

“By being smarter than us—“

“That’s besides the point. You know what, keep them on you or don’t. I’m just trying to help.“ you glare at them before you send them off to go study up on their own.

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Exam day has started! The classroom is quiet for the most part besides the sound of the scribbling of pens and the occasional cough or the knocking over of a water bottle(I had, too, lol. Always scares the FUCK outa me during a test).

And just as most of the students were getting to the second page, you were printing your name and heading right up to turn the paper into Crewel. He glances up at you as he’s drawn away from his work and he quirks a brow, though this wasn’t anything new to him since you always were the best pup in his class <3

He takes the test out of your hand, glances it over, gives an approving nod and sends you back to your seat. You can feel the eyes on you now as they feel like little prickles on your skin, each stare laced with a little bit of envy for your current position.

You take your seat again and quietly watch as Grim prints his answers down, staring thoughtfully around the room in hopes of scoring a freebie answer from a book spine or something. You do take notice of, however, the little good luck spell jar nestled in his bottom paws.

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

Fast forward about a week later, everyone was certain they had failed the exam, and quite frankly, most did, barely scoring even a 56%.

When the scores came back you weren’t very surprised to see a big red “A, 100%” as your score. It was expected, and people hated you for it because that meant no curves for grading. Thanks, Prefect…But the boys were not expecting to have passed themselves, getting scores even as close to yours.

“I got 89%!” Deuce hums happily as he flips through his test to find the answers he missed.

“I got 93%” Jack responds.

“97%” Sebek smiles as he holds his chin high, a smug smile creeping up onto his face.

“90%!” Epel sighs out of relief Vil won’t be ok his case now

“Mrahhhh! 90%, too!” Grim chuckles.

“100%” Ortho beams as he holds up his paper.

“You can search stuff up whenever you feel like it.” Ace grumbles. “I got 87%, let me guess, you got a 100%?” Ace looks at you with a look that says “I will not be surprised by the answer I hear.”

“Yep.” You smile.

“Always. But, I really wasn’t expecting to do this good. Going over the material last night I for sure thought I’d end up like the rest of the guys.” He sighs. Everyone nods along with his words and looks back at their scores. Then back to you.

“So. Did you guys end up carrying those little bottles I made you guys on exam day during the test?” You smirk, your shoulders raised a bit as you wait for a response.

They go quiet and they all make eye contact with each other before they nod, albeit timidly as they slowly make connections.

“Thought so.” You sigh. “Good!”

“Ok, how did you…” Ace huffs. “We never told ya that…and what does that have to do with anything?”

“I just could tell based on your scores. You’re welcome by the way.” You smile, and with a small wave of your hand, you take your leave to go discuss something with Crewel.

They all watch you walk away, and now their suspicions have increased tenfold…what weird shit did you pull, and why did it work?!

Ok, this is just the beginning I fear >:), thanks for reading my lovelies <3!!!!

Also, as per request, @brights-place , I hope this is ok to start off with, I have some pretty good ideas for later

Master list

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[mhevarujta]

Lily Rose Depp said it for example: “It was clear to me from the beginning, and from what Rob [Eggers] was saying to me, it’s a love story with Count Orlok as much as it is with her husband. There’s a real love triangle there. “

I don’t have problems with love triangles with vampires or with Ellen loving Orlok, even if it’s fucked up. I have problems with how they executed it in the movie itself. Would people get this idea that Ellen loved Orlok or really wanted him or if there was real love triangle going on if they didn’t read piles of interviews from cast and crew and need to constantly refer to them? Movie itself needed to show it. Perhaps, Eggers simply can’t write gothic romances and really thought he was doing something, but it didn’t translate to screen. His WH comparison did him no favours, by inviting comparisons between Heathcliff and Orlok considering how bland and flat Orlok is as character. But Eggers really thought he was doing some deep comparison.

It's a love triangle because Ellen's desire lies with Orlok, not with Thomas.

IF his intention was to show love between Orlok and Ellen, Eggers fails. I DO think that Eggers' comments about Wuthering Heights only translate on screen very superficially in terms of Ellen being torn between what would exile her from society and between what makes her a part of it. But if we look at them as anything more than that, they'd only show that he doesn't have a good grasp of either Heathcliff or Catherine's characters, both of whom are miles away from Orlok and Ellen as individuals: To put it very superficially Orlok lacks Heathcliff's humanity, Ellen does not have Catherine's selfishness and overall, the lack of any emotional depth in their relationship aside, Ellen x Orlok don't even balance each other out as individuals in my opinion. Also, Heathcliff lives and breathes on love and spite, but as long as Catherine is still really fond of someone he would not unleash his cruelty upon them to its full extent, and this makes for some absolutely fascinating dynamics throughout Wuthering Heights. On the other hand Orlok is devoid of any of Heathcliff's complexity. He's paper-thin. He works as a symbol for the individual and the collective shadow, sure, and that's the most interesting part of his character, but he doesn't work in a straight-forward manner.

Nevertheless, I'd like to give Eggers the benefit of the doubt, in that he chose to be inspired by WH without replicating it. Because to be frank I think that, despite his comparison, if he intended for a genuine love to exist between Orlok and Ellen he wouldn't have actively deleted all the aspects that showed tenderness or even confidence on Ellen's part from the 2016 script. All the mentions of Ellen 'gently' touching him? Gone. The 'lovingly' when she brings him back to her? Gone. Ellen feeling "calm and confident in a way she has never been before?" Gone. The emphasis on Ellen being 'finally fulfilled'? Gone. Instead there are things that are added. Like a completely different direction for Ellen and Thomas' relationship, a last look of love between them even as Ellen lies with Orlok, the emphasis on Ellen's moment of reckoning and victory.

Moreover, despite Depp's talk about a love story, it's Eggers himself who has mentioned that the nature of Ellen and Orlok's dynamic is about obsession and not love. He has also acknowledged the existing rape and that Orlok is an abuser. So I think that it's really interesting when people who saw this movie with shipping goggles on are trying to say that Ellen was ONLY abused by her society, that these elements were not there and that other viewers are making them up because they didn't get what the movie was about or don't understand the genre. Ellen was a victim of the vampire and of society both, and that's part of her tragedy.

[fallout4reacts]

Oops my hand slipped. I just had to get this idea out of my brain and on paper immediately.

[sunforgrace]

he sat there on the ground and cried. for cas. cas told him he loved him was taken away and he buried his head in his hands and wept

[seventh-district]

sometimes it’s late at night and you’re cleaning your room and you come across a few old black and white photos of a young girl and you stare at them for a long minute wondering how on earth they got lost in an old Kroger shopping bag with an unopened pack of cigarettes and a receipt dated 2017.

and you look at the girl in the pictures sat on the floor of someone’s home you don’t recognize, smiling and playing with a set of keys and a tiny part of you feels like it recognizes her but you aren’t sure.

and you flip the pictures over hoping to find some sort of annotation that would give you context and all you find is the year 1964 stamped in tiny font along the edge.

and you flip them back over and time stands still as you realize that the recognition you feel is because she looks so much like you once did and next thing you know your hands are sweating and shaking and you have to sit on the floor because you’re crying so hard because it hits you all at once that you’re looking at your mother.

[koukaaa-descent]

the new guy in my head is kind of frightening but in a good way Help

[janamensch]

The enemy of my enemy is someone my sister probably wouldn’t even want me to talk to, but also he’s fighting the same people we’re fighting so he probably can’t be THAT bad, right?

[tonycries]

FEVER FEVER FEVER

Synopsis. Sèx pollen - it’s never felt so good.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, sèx pollen, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, creampíes, bréeding, making them whímper, oraI (fem), true form Sukuna, Sukuna’s two mouths, ínappropríate use of jujutsu, 7:3 technique, GOJO’S POWERS, matíng presses, overstím, bóndage, first times (Choso), losing control, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Can you guess the title reference heheh?

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - WICKED!

Toji Fushiguro swears he isn’t affected - he swears that stupid, stray technique didn’t actually hit him when finishing off today’s job.

After all, it’s not like he’s some weak, pathetically needy-

“Please, doll.” Toji gasps - he heaves - hot and heavy between your pretty legs. Letting his roughened tongue slide its pathway across that perky scar sitting right on the edge of his white-glossed lip, re-tasting you. Himself. And he can feel the way his overworked tip twitches at that cute wide-eyed gaze of yours, mouth dropping at him begging. “Don’t make me ah- say any of that s-stupid stuff again.”

You huff out a low bout of teasing laughter that makes him flinch, “Hmm, but I don’t think I heard you properly, baby?”

God, he wished he couldn’t smell your sweet saccharine scent fogging up his mind, he wished the mere sound of your honeyed tone didn’t have him gushing out in another sweltering hot wave. Growling, “W-when this is over I swear—”

“Time’s ticking…”

Damn.

“P-please-” The word comes out strangled - pained. “Can I p-put it back inside, ma?”

It’s a beg - a plea.

One that has Toji’s ears flushing an angry red, and his eyes looking up at you tearily in a way that uttered he’d die right now if he didn’t get another taste of your heavenly cunt.

You can barely even start to let your head shake with a nod before a choked-up groan bursts from Toji’s wobbly lips. And he’s flipping you over with one simple push of his large, strong arms attached roughly onto your hips. Pushing your pliantly face into the soft, silken pillows on all fours like he couldn’t bear hearing any more of those sweet sounds of yours. For the sake of his sanity. 

“Yes-” he gasps, digits curling around his thick hilt to guide them into a pretty peck against your cunt. “Yes yes yes yes- finally- ah finally-”

He’s drooling. Still so greedy even after hours now. 

Swollen cock so rawly red and angry, he’s splattering out freshly translucent swashes of precum against your puckered hole. Creamy and drizzled with rings of cum from just before that he hadn’t been able to lap up mere moments earlier. 

Toji couldn’t get enough- he doesn’t want to. Doesn’t think it’s even physically possible. 

“Can’t believe what ya d-do to me-” His words are hushed, unsteady - like they were on the verge of shattering into a million pieces. Pressing a lingering trail of kisses down your arched spine, he gulps in your heady pheromones. “-oh, s’not even that fucking p-pollen, ya have no fuckin’ idea.” 

But ah he gets even harder at your scent. Shuddering out a heavy groan, every powerful limb of Toji’s utterly loosening at the way your toasty cunt was hugging him so tightly all over again. You’re being massaged against his mouth-watering abs when he pushes even further in-

“Where the fuck do you think you’re g-going, huh?”

It takes you a few cockdrunken seconds to realize that this is Toji talking to you - deep baritone a few octaves higher, cracking ever-so-slightly at the end in a way you’d never even imagined before. And a few more to recognize that you’d been clawing at the rickety headboard, jittery hips sneaking mere inches away from his ruthless size. 

You’re gasping, letting go immediately. “I-I didn’t mean- you’re just so big, Toji.”

And, truly, he was. 

There’s so much of him.

You didn’t know whether it was the sex pollen that had him fitting out the snug inches of his girth so massively bigger than usual. Strawberry tip red and painting your puffy pussy lips to be dripping wet, it seemed like just the tiniest piston has his rotund head spreading open your taut insides. 

Has Toji’s head reeling. Has him getting angry at the slightly melty recoil that had his bawling tip parting from your insides for a split-second. 

Addicted. 

But this makes Toji hiss, it makes his strong arms wrap around your waist in a vice-like bodylock. Eyes crinkling with watery beads of tears, he catches your lips in a filthy, filthy kiss. “No- don’t fuckin- you can fucking take it- want it- need it, ma, please- think m’gonna die without ya-”

Gripping harshly onto your hips to slam into the very depths of your pussy, he’s feeding your sopping slit with every his girthy inch. All the way until his hefty balls kiss wetly up against your ass. 

THUD!

“Oh shit-” your voice quivers, eyeing the sagging end of the bed. “Toji, you broke the-”

But that didn’t matter to Toji. Why would it?

SLAM!

In fact, it’s the fucking last thing he could think about before swiftly maneuvering your body to press against the fucking floor with a strained gruff. 

And in a split-second, something muscular and weighty is being pressed onto the back of your head. You gasp when you realize that it’s Toji’s foot, angling his gyrating hips perfectly right to swipe an oozing glide of wispy precum down your battered g-spot. 

He’s panting - heaving out, “Heh, s-spread ‘em-” Frantically kneeing apart your limp legs wider, “oh, yeah tha’s it. Shhh sh sh-” You didn’t know whether Toji was trying to soothe you or his greedy self. “Take this f-fuckin’ cock f’me, alright?”

Splaying out one palm midway down your stomach to massage and feel for his riotous nudge, exactly where he could feel himself ramming in for the nth time. Over and over- 

Hmm…maybe this sex pollen wasn’t too bad. 

“W-what?” You’re whirling your bleary gaze over your shoulder to sputter and Toji registers that his drunken mouth has accidentally babbled out loud. 

But the only response you mercifully get is Toji spooning his fingers down to swirl over your neglected clit. A sleazy grin smearing all over his face at the way his thick digits slip and slide from how coated your sensitive nub was with his seed. 

“M’jus’ s-sayin, ma-” he grins, and you feel his tight, cum-filled balls thwack! thwack! thwack! against your overstuffed cunt even harder. More wickedly. “This sex pollen’s making me a bit…hungry again.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 7:3

“M-my love-” Nanami hisses through a wince at the way his rich baritone was breaking pathetically - hoarse, choked-up. He’s never felt this way. Never. “J-jus’ one more?”

Never been so greedy. So horny.

Like he’d die if he doesn’t paint your pretty pussy white.

And if the way your husband had you folded into a mean mess of a mating press wasn’t enough to agree, he’s planting a pretty peck right against the battered bullseye of your g-spot with his swollen tip. Hard. 

The spongy cushion making him collapse onto his elbows with a groan, repeating his same, syrupy mantra. “Please o-one more-”

Nanami’s stamina was incredible by itself but now?

Now it had you blinking back your sobbing tears, swiping away the sweat-dampened strands of blond from his face with a trembly hand, “Only one more?”

Oh, Nanami’s voice opens to agree, his lips crack open to repeat them- those words barely babbling out of his loose mouth before your clingy walls suddenly give him a tempting squeeze. And any and all rational thought is sucked thoroughly out of him-

“I-I don’t know-” he’s breathing out, letting his head fall into the safety of the crook of your neck. Hips still stuttering forwards to spearhead into your gummy depths. Mindlessly. He could feel the drippingly wet slosh of his cum coating his shaft. Drinking in your sweet, sweet scent, “Don’t- don’t know why this is happening. Don’t know if it’s ‘nough- don’t hngh- know if it’ll ever be. J-jus’ want you a pretty m-momma, darling.”

And it’s all that he’s been thinking about for the whole day now.

Right from the very second he’d been hit with a special grade technique during a mission, to the moment that Nanami had stormed up to your apartment and taken you right then and there on the living room floor.

Hours ago.

“P-please-” 

Nanami doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, but it’s just about all that he can sputter out like a little prayer. 

However, you do, apparently. Flashing him a cockdrunken smile that makes his breath hitch, and his tip bawl out a new velvety wave of precum that splatters against the ends of your cervix. You hum, “Mhm- o-one more, Ken–”

Immediately being shut up by a sudden slam! into your sweetest spots, he’s rutting in so deep, so thoroughly that you’re left deliriously wondering whether the circumference of his girth would be left indented onto your melty walls. Again. And again and again and- shit, was he using his jujutsu?

Was he even in control?

“Can’t stop- can’t stop can’t stop- I-it’s like-” Jackhammering pound after angry pound so hard that you’re being pushed further and further up the floor. “You’re too good to me- no!” he cries, accidentally sliding out from between your glossy folds to smack! smack! smack! his furiously reddened cock down the splatters of seed that drip down from your slit. Twitching until he bullies back in- “-promise m’gonna m-make it up to ya- hah- promise m’not gonna miss.”

And then he’s letting your unsteady fingers clutch tightly around the silky fabric of that yellow, speckled work tie that he hadn’t even bothered removing. “H-hold onto this- hold- in case I get too…” 

“Ken-” you hiss, feeling the cold circumference of Nanami’s wedding ring prod at your clit. So full you have the distinct thought that you could almost explode. “M’not s-sure if it’ll fit though-”

But Nanami didn’t want that - couldn’t even bear the thought-

“W-won’t fit?” Nanami shudders, eyes wide. “It won’t…won’t fit?” 

Sounding so devastated. 

Cracking a low whine at the very back of his throat when he immediately flinches away - spreading out his rounded fingers across your stomach to press. He coats his warm cock with a sudden gleam of cum eagerly, “S’this o-okay now? Will- will it fit, my love?”

And it’s so, so filthy.

You’re mewling like such a slut, “Yes- yes yes yes yes- m-more-”

Nanami was practically burning up, heaving for air. His feverish pleas panting out condensely against your face. 

“Gonna fill this ngh- cute cunt up until she’s overspilling.” Rummaging his dick inside your gooey cunt dangerously accurately, grazing up the thumping pace of his veins down the crevices of all your sensitive spots. Even hidden ones. “Have you all round and ah- glowing with my kid.” Uncharacteristically leaving a sodden swat! at your plump clit to watch your gush out in another creamy ring. “Can’t rest- can’t fuckin’ stop until I do. Feels like m’burning.”

Your fingers wrap even more desperately around his tie, pulling - hauling.

Yes, he gulps. This is what he wanted - what he needed. What the pollen was begging him for. 

His lips leer down to glissade wetly across your own, not even a kiss because he could barely even manage one. Unable to even raise his droopy eyes to meet your stare, “-hah- what do you want- t-tell me what you want, my wife.”

Your own lips quiver. “I-I want two babies, Ken-”

Oh. 

Oh, fuck. 

When Nanami was out of control, he was unrecognizable. 

Hips slamming against yours in a few more sloppy strokes, before filling up every empty space with hot pumps of his seed. Voluminous. It’s spurting against your walls with a wet thwack! and not even your hand around his tie makes him slow down.

The air crackles with a few more sparks of jujutsu - except Nanami couldn’t control it. Couldn’t grasp the way even with his technique, he was so drunk on your pussy that his cock was just barely drawing wet glides of cum down your g-spot. Almost missing. 

Making him malfunction his cursed technique. 

Yet, the only thing you can register is when your own orgasm hits, white-hot tingles flashing down your spine. Toes curling, pulse thundering so loudly in your ears that you almost miss-

“O-one…just one more, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - (Un)affected

“I don’t…I don’t-”

Now, Geto Suguru had absolutely zero idea what he was about to babble away - maybe that he wasn’t affected by that sex pollen curse he’d swallowed, maybe that he wasn’t losing a slight bit of his sanity with every feverish drag of his fingers down his painfully hard cock.

“-don’t need anythin’ but your hngh- pretty face, gorgeous. Help out your leader, would ya?”

And oh, you looked like such a dream below him - with your glassy eyes blinking up at him, tongue darted out so obscenely to catch the stray splatters of his aphrodisiac-like precum. Pearly, winking beads that drip! drip! drip! down his visibly throbbing length. 

His beautiful second-in-command.

And he was so ruined. 

Sounding so pathetic when he whispers, scared at the way he knew his words would crack pathetically at the very end. “B-bring yerself closer, no need to be hah- shy- let me- let me…please.”

But he looked so pretty above you.

Splayed out in such a messy way on the throne for the association leader, dark brows knitted, sweat trickling in glistening rivulets down his forehead. Strands of Geto’s long, dark hair stick to his forehead when he smacks your pouty lips with his angry cock until they’re rubbed raw. 

“Wan’ you to cum, Sugu–” you’re batting your lashes in a way that makes his swollen cock twitch in his hands. Smearing your palms up and down the creamy skin of his muscular, manspread thighs, “-cum on my face, please?”

Fuck, he was so unfairly sensitive right now that just the singular gust of your words hitting his cock made Geto’s abs ripple. Make his entire body wrack with shudder after shudder as his weepy tip spits out a translucent few beads of precum. 

“S-such a naughty mouth.” he’s hissing, trying for the life of him to not act like the simplest glide of your palms had Geto fighting back his high already. “Better be ah- careful. Can’t talk like that n’ not end up s-stuffed full, honey–”

It’s a warning. 

For both of you.

Geto’s finding his roughened digits fly down faster and faster his length, squeezing ever-so-slightly harder near his mushroom slit.

You whine, “But I want that, Sugu.”

You little minx. You evil, evil little-

And he can’t fucking stop the way his hefty balls clench - painfully, obscenely, sluttily in a way that has the pinkish divot at the very end of his cock spurt out in a ribbon of steaming hot seed.

You’re closing your eyes, waiting for more- but Geto has other plans. 

Plans that have him swiping over the thick pad of his thumb to press down hard at the very ruby head of his erection, choking back a slew of swears when he wavers off his orgasm for just a second. Just long enough to drag you upwards with one free hand attaching to your waist. 

Up, up, up-

“Sit on m-my cock, gorgeous-” he’s spitting, wet and panted against your lips. Dizzying. You gasp at the sodden drag of Geto’s bawling tip down your pre-soaked pussy lips, meshing in a wet, wet French kiss. “-c’mon. Ride me. Ride me please- m’burning up.”

And it was the only opportunity you’d get to hear the dangerous Geto Suguru whine, to see him blink his long, teary lashes up at you when you sink your drooling cunt down his girth just an inch. 

He was so warm splitting you open. 

So steaming hot when your tight pussy floods with string wads of cum, such a mind-numbing orgasm that Geto can feel it before he even registers it. One that has his toes curling, his arms locking around your waist to fuck up into you like he hates you. 

“D-don’t get it twisted m’early because of the ah- p-pollen.” he groans, back muscles flexing with every perfect curved arch upwards into your greedy hips. The wet thwack! of skin-on-skin resounds throughout the tatami room and makes Geto drool. Unable to even spell out coherent sentences right now - well, not until he feels your sloppy hips slow down just a tad.

“Sugu- m’tired.”

Truly, his stamina was too much. 

Swat! His fingers leave branding little imprints, before roughly attaching to pinch your pulsing clit, “Work on it, gorgeous- tha’s an order. Because m’not hngh- anywhere near done. Jus’ milk me- milk me dry…oh, yeah let that pretty pussy have her fun-” 

“O-oh fuck fuck fuck-” You clutch precariously at the mahogany woodwork of his chair, thighs aching with the sheer effort to try and bounce your drippingly wet pussy down onto his rudely jostling cock. “-there’s so much- ah- can feel it drippin’ down my thighs-”

“Sh-shut up.” Geto’s managing to get out through grit teeth, planting another unabashed smack on your cunt simply to prove his point. Begging, “God, please- mercy-”

Because your honeyed tone is so sweet, your words so filthy that they have him spurting out a few more fatigued rivers of cum. 

Rasping out the tiniest of whimpers with each of your damp bounces, he makes you work. “O-open that mouth.” And you listen - of course, you do - letting those pretty, spit-glossed lips fall open into a soft ah! All so perfect for him to spit- the taste makes you hot. Burning, like an aphrodisiac. And now you’re feeling dizzy. “Bein’ way too talkative f-for a ngh- second-in-command. Aren’t ya?”

And obviously you don’t point out the slight drizzle of drool that makes its way down the corner of his coral pink lips, obviously you don’t point out just how hot and heavy he was swirling lewdly inside your walls. Stretching you out to the max - still so hard despite cumming for the nth time already.

No, instead, you smile drunkenly. “Why? D-does it affect you, sir?”

Smack!

“Sh-shut up n’ keep riding me, gorgeous.” And you could’ve sworn that Geto’s voice broke.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Bed chem.

Choso was ruined. Absolutely fucked out…and he was so pathetically embarrassed about it. 

Unable to wrangle the teary ah! ah! ah! ripping from the very depths of his throat every time your drenched cunt was dragging down his sensitive shaft. Still clothed, still glissading along his thumping veins teasingly - but he felt like he could cum already. 

“P-please, baby-” The thick pads of his jittery fingers find their way to the edges of your soaked underwear, hooking inside ever-so-slightly - and the tiniest sneak peek of your puffy pussy lips makes him gulp. “-please I feel like m’gonna hah- die without ya.”

“But, Cho—” And that nickname in your sweetened tone is enough for him to buck right off the silken sheets. “-how am I supposed to help you with the pollen, otherwise? M’jus’ being a good friend.”

You wanted him to say it.

You wanted your best friend to beg.

“I-I…”

And oh, he trails off - because you’re helping him slide your sticky panties just enough down your thighs. Flashing him such a dangerous smile right as you watch Choso’s mouth drop, dark brows scrunching together when he heaves out a moan.

“I d-don’t know, baby- I don’t- I don’t know-” And he felt like he was burning, he felt his melty mind getting dizzier by the minute as your slobbering cunt drags in determined gyrations against him faster. Swollen folds spreading to coat the pattern of his throbbing veins in a gleaming sheen. Humping so ferally. “B-but you smell so good and f-feel so oh- all I want is…” 

You don’t get to hear the rest of his sentence. 

Within a split-second, your panties are left in tiny tatters for him to breathe in. Filthily.

Drinking in his fill before he has one pinning both your wrists behind your back. The other plugging into your cunt to circle a slow swivel enough for him to bully inside-

Heaven. He was in heaven. 

“This. This is what it oh- feels like? This is a-all I want-” he’s hiccuping, voice breaking into such a pretty whine every time his raw cock is tapping against the softest areas of your gummy walls. “-to fuck my p-pretty best friend. All I’ve ever wanted- S’my first ngh- time, y’know?”

You’re fluttering your eyes back open to bore down at Choso’s fucked-out expression. “S’your first time? Wh-why didn’t you ah- tell me, Cho?”

And maybe because he was embarrassed, maybe because all it takes is a single clench of your saturated cunt around his girthy shaft for him to shoot out a few wisps of cum. Half-orgasming already. 

But Choso only plants his powerful thighs flat on the mattress to pressurize his slow drills upwards.

Tentative, almost. As if he wasn’t utterly rummaging your insides, poking at your glossy cervix with sopping wet glides of his fat cock, stretching out your taut channel to massage spots you didn’t even know existed. 

The pollen had him greedier than ever. 

“Mhmm– because th-there’s no one else f’me.” His lower lip wobbles cutely, dewy eyes drooping to an almost closed state with every drag of his cock down your elastic walls. Filthy. Feverish. “S’jus’ for a bit- just- hah- just for the pollen, remember?”

Oh, right. You’re shuffling your hands precariously onto Choso’s bulging pecs to determine your grinds even more thoroughly. Pound after pound that left your ass stinging with impact. It was so hypnotic that you’d almost forgotten about the entire reason you were…helping in the first place. 

You fingers bully between his plump lips, muttering, “Open f’me, Cho?”

And of course Choso would do anything you command in a heartbeat. Anything. The only thing on his mind when he lets his mouth fall slack - just in time for your syrupy stream of spit. Hitting right onto the middle of his tastebuds, swallowing. 

So heady that he half-wonders whether you were the cause of the sex pollen itself. 

Holding back a few strained pleas for mercy, he’s placing a wet line of pecks down the side of your teary cheeks- shit, when did you even start crying? Choso can’t help but let his pinkish tongue loll out to lick a languid stripe up those salty dredges, groaning. 

“Just for the p-pollen and…”

“And what?” you’re crying out, feeling one set of his ringed fingers curl deftly around the nub of your clit. Swiping a wet drag of his rotund pads down the very sensitive edges of the hood, it makes your thighs shiver down even faster to meet Choso’s addicted pace. 

“And then…”

In a split-second, you’re being flipped over so meanly. Splayed out like such a slut on the plush mattress when Choso drags your limp legs up onto the curves of his deltoids, abs flexing and rubbing up against your ass when he folds in half down, down, down into the meanest mating press you’ve never thought possible. 

Choso’s gleamingly sharp canines sink into your ear lobe, breath feverishly hot against your ear. In fact, all of him was absolutely burning right now. Heaving. “-then m’gonna hngh- marry you.” Spitting into your open mouth - broken. Desperate. “F-fuck the talking stage, fuck dating- m’gonna wife you up.” You feel his hips get sloppier and sloppier, spearheading Choso’s fat cock to the very bruised bottom of your pussy. “Shit- gonna propose. Be my wife- the mother of my kids. Breed this cunt- Let me please- ngh- please by my wife.”

Maybe it was the sex pollen that had him babbling so much, maybe it was you.

But either way - Choso doesn’t care. He doesn’t give a shit when you’re opening your lips enough to mumble, “I-I do- Cho.”

His best friend. Enough to make him rut up into you wildly like an animal. Clashing his wet tip over and over in sopping slides down your g-spot. Again. And again and-

And the only answer is Choso’s whimper, “A-and please…can your h-husband cum inside, baby?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Mouthy?!

Sukuna’s hooking two of his fingers into the corner of his mouth - his other mouth. A wide, ravenous smile. Larger, greedier, positioned right underneath your shamefully spread cunt. “Move that damn hand before I hafta do it myself, woman.”

And oh he sounded so impatient - so utterly strained like just a few seconds longer would have Ryomen Sukuna rampaging. 

Your entire body burns with embarrassment, jittery legs almost coming to a close at the feverish pant of his second mouth. Drooling, ravenously condensing out little droplets of saliva that splatter onto your quivering hole like a blank canvas. 

“B-but are you sure, Kuna?” you’re whimpering, biting back tiny gasps at the way his tongue drags its sodden taste-buds along where you were straddling him with your sheeny inner thighs. Face sitting but…not quite. “Y-you’re that needy?”

Oh.

Oh, you should’ve known better than to accuse the infamous King of Curses of being needy - no matter how utterly true it was right about now. 

Sukuna didn’t know what potion Uraume had accidentally knocked into his last meal, but it had him so ruined. He couldn’t even breathe without all the blood in his towering body rushing straight into his painfully swollen cocks, couldn’t even think without feeling like his veins were boiling with the sudden greed to taste you.

Because Sukuna might have had his meal…but he was still starving. In a way he didn’t even know before rolling his tongue past your glossy folds. 

And he was chuckling out a dangerous bout of rumbling laughter that makes your lower lip wobble, “Don’t fuckin’ call me n-needy. M’jus-” Addicted? Hypnotized? Battling with the feeling that he’ll die without your pretty pussy? Deep voice petering out when he couldn’t even begin to justify the way that Sukuna was dragging his lolling tongue down your sodden folds, twirling the very pointed tip over the hood of your clit. “-fuck- I don’t need to give you an explanation, p-puny human. Just ride me.”

That’s all the answer you’re getting before he hunches over - long tongue tunneling even deeper around your melty walls and Sukuna was drooling. Smacking many, many wet kisses.

He’s throwing his head back into the decadently royal pillows with a slight, cracking whimper at the sweet, sweet taste of you on his tongue. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. Swivelling wetly so that every single bead of your juices drip its silky way into his widely opened mouth. “Jus’ need a taste- just one taste.”

Your juices were like nectar, making the pollen rush.

“C-can you even taste like this, Kuna–?” your voice comes out in tiny whines. Positioning your shivery hands on either side of his shoulders to steady your legs - it just felt so unbearably good. 

Swat! 

And even with his thick, calloused fingertips, it felt like Sukuna was putting in twice the strength to plant a branding smack onto the curve of your jiggling ass. “Silly girl, of course I can taste this pretty cunt of yours-” Smoothing over the raised digits, and bearing you with such a sleazy grin. “-askin’ soo many q-questions, huh?” 

“But-”

Smack! 

“Shh, why don’t we let her speak for a second, now- hm?”

Silencing down his own grunts until all that resounds in the chamber are those sloshing squelches of your cunt dragging back and forth Sukuna’s monstrous tongue. The sounds of his wet muscle gyrating in and out hotly - it was almost burning. 

“Heh, real talkative this one is, too.” he’s snickering. Two of his arms attaching roughly onto your trembly hips, and a third covering your sagging mouth. “-why dontcha hngh- play with this pretty cunt of yours a lil’, brat? Make her all nice n’ even wetter f’me to taste?”

And it’s all you can do to dance one hand down to run over your poorly neglected clit, toying with that nub just the way you liked - and the way Sukuna liked, too. If the way his mouth - both his mouths - were smiling told you anything.

Yet, he wanted more.

“Fuck- fuck, wait.” And Sukuna smacks! away your hand with his free one - he couldn’t even last a few minutes with anyone other than himself staking a slutty claim on your cunt. “Let- let me.” Every roll of his tongue goes hand-in-hand with the meanest little drag of his fat thumb down your clit. At your surprised yelp, “Shut up and ride it.”

You’re clenching your teeth, bouncing your thighs up and down to glissade a ride everywhere from the ridges of Sukuna’s defined abs to the edges of his slurping tongue. 

“Heheh yeah-” he’s giggling - giggling. Drunk on you and your ravenous hips, you were moving against him so filthy at this point and he almost feels himself - the king of curses - blush. Head lolling backwards but eyeing down to watch how spearheaded you were on his tongue, surging in and out in wet sloshes to fuck your pretty cunt open on him. “Clenchin’ around me so tight- looks like you’re gonna cum, hm?”

“I-I am…so close, Kuna-”

“Don’ needa tell me- this cunt is speaking ‘nough for the both of ya. Right about-” Your eyes spark with sudden stars as he leaves another sudden smack! on your ass, your clit, and then one on your thigh. Before pulling- hauling- “-now.”

And the very moment you feel that build-up within your stomach snap - gushing out in wet wave after wave of your orgasm. All you can do is grab on helplessly to the- the headboard?

Blinking open your bleary eyes to realize that you were sitting on Sukuna’s mouth. His actual mouth. Cracked wide open for him to lap up every single bead and splatter of your squirting.

Such a filthy mess.

“There we go-” he’s groaning, eyes falling half-lidded. And through the corner of your eye, you catch the way his second mouth licks its lips devilishly. “-now I’m almost full.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “D-do you hate me?”

“What?” you’re blinking down at your dear boyfriend. “Of course not, Toru-”

“Then, y-you really think this will hold me back, sweetheart?”

The words are barely out of Gojo’s mouth before he already knows that they’re bluffs, already knows that the strongest is powerless against those thick black blindfolds restraining his wrists to the bedposts - and you. 

You, you, you-

With your trembly legs straddling his lap, hovering your cunt just above his strawberry blushed head so deliciously. Your sodden pussy lips slobbering all the way down his length in a way that Gojo finds dizzying. He just can’t help but tug-

“Now now, I said no pulling.” Your honeyed tone makes his fat tip twitch despite the way it was dripping with a filthy warning. “Jus’ the tip, Toru. Remember?”

Right…not. 

“Yes yes yes yes-” Gojo gasps wetly, feet planting on either side of the mattress to buck up and push. To smear a pretty peck right past your folds and against that tight ring of muscle, hot. And, shit, maybe it was that fucking pollen but Gojo whimpers, how he wished he could touch you. “-jus’ the tip. The tip hngh- please jus’ take me I don’t even c-care.”

But he did.

Oh, how much Gojo cared ever since he’d let himself be hit by that weak sex pollen jujutsu as a joke. 

Never expecting to end up babbling thoroughly pussydrunkenly like this, to have his twitchy cock sinking in a mere inch into your melty walls and feeling like he was about to burst. 

“You say that but this is way more than ‘just the tip’, Toru–”

And Gojo can’t help but look, to snap his teary eyes downwards and drink in the way your puffed-up pussy lips were bulging all around his thick cock. Just barely past his sensitive slit, he could catch that thumping pulse at your cunt like you wanted to milk something delicious. 

“A-are ya sure, pretty?” he’s snickering, gripping on tightly to use the lewd leverage of his ties to rut up, up, up- “Doesn’t l-look like hngh- s’enough to me.”

Shit.

He can’t help the way his prattling mouth sags open when your tight cunt swallows up another greedy inch. And if any of you two had been in a slightly less delirious state of mind, then you’d have noticed the way the dim bedroom lighting flickers, the way your bed shifts. 

Keening at the slight thickening where his hilt was fatter, spearheading your taut pussy so open. It’s like his prominent veins were throb throb throbbing to massage forbidden sweet spots that you didn’t even know existed. 

You’re taking a few sloppy seconds to find your voice, gathering up every shred of will in your body to make sure it doesn’t break. “D-don’t act like you’re hah- forgiven for g-getting yourself into this mess, baby-”

Ah, Gojo practically purrs underneath you. “Jus’ feel like m’gonna d-die without ya-” Bed creaking when he riotously thrusts upwards to match your tantalizing pace with a much sloppier one of his own. That smack-on-smack after every pound music to his ears - but not enough. “But, if you let m-me outta these ngh– ties then maybe I could-”

“Toru…”

Oh, he was in trouble.

But that angry scoff on your pretty features only had Gojo moaning, gulping in desperate heavals of your scented pheromones. Dizzying. 

“Satoru.”

Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, Gojo was out of control. 

Head throwing back at your voice, lips gasping. Furiously ramming upwards into you with every ounce of strength he had - and Gojo could feel his limbs weaken, his bones ache with fatigue but he needed more. 

Maybe it was the pollen, probably it was him.

Burning for it.

“Aww don’ be like that. J-just the tip- just the tip-” he’s hiccuping out, eyes rearing almost half-closed. Sweat drips down the middle of his spine, your slick smears down in a wet gush onto his tufts of white when your pussy lips kiss his toned pelvis. Way past the tip but Gojo couldn’t stop- “-a little more-” Pushing mindlessly deeper, “-the tip- fuck you can take it- jus ah-” Wouldn’t stop. Can’t stop.

“Toru-” your words pitch into something pathetically whiny now. “-m’so close…”

He already knew

Of course, he already knew. His six eyes could catch that extra wad of drool coating your inner walls, the way your rapid pulse was probing even louder against his overwhelmed cock. Almost painfully. 

“Mhm– I know I know-” he gasps, ripping out a guttural moan when you’re craning over your pretty self to lick a path down the side of that sliver of drool at his mouth. “-cum f’me then- cum- hngh- cum on my cock, please?”

“I should hah- leave you right now, for lying about j-just the tip.”

But who was Gojo Satoru against you?

The slight threat only just leaves your glossed lips before he feels a stubborn pricking behind his eyes. Fuck, what a spectacle this would be to anyone right now. Big, bulbous tears crinkling down the side of his cheeks, Gojo bats his wet lashes innocently up at you. “Please?”

And with a shudder, you’re cumming - crashing headfirst into your orgasm. 

Fuck, you’re wondering whether this curse was contagious with how strong those waves of your high are. Peak after peak and only much, much later do you realize that Gojo’s already ripped straight through his restraints.

Left as mere tatters by the pillow when he latches on roughly to your waist and pounds up his drilling rams, over and over to target your poor, bruised g-spot. Fucking you through your high, vision swimming, lights exploding- 

And Gojo doesn’t even realize he’s cumming until he’s managing to crack his glowing eyes open to bore down at the milky ring of white painting around his thick hilt. Gasping in wonderment, he’s running a singular digit down the glossy puddle - before popping it into his mouth. Sucking. 

“Sweetheart…would you h-hate me if I said I’m ah- still feeling the sex pollen?”

“...”

A/N. Hope you lovelies have a great dayyyy <3

Plagiarism not authorized.