#and preparing them to take over these positions and she loses them

[halfyearsqueen]

thinking about her and her two eldest sons

[bethanydelleman]

One criticism of Jane Austen is that she ignored the lower classes. I find this kind of dumb on multiple levels, primarily because not every work of fiction or social criticism needs to include every single social ill, but also because she does talk about servants/the lower classes quite a bit more than people realize and what she says is important.

The overall theme: kindness to servants/the lower classes/the poor is a very important mark of character.

We all know that Elizabeth Bennet changed her mind about Mr. Darcy after hearing a positive character reference from his housekeeper, but that is just one example of many. The Dashwood girls are better employers than John & Fanny since they easily find servants to move across the country with them: Her wisdom too limited the number of their servants to three; two maids and a man, with whom they were speedily provided from amongst those who had formed their establishment at Norland. Also, servants tended to brag about having wealthy employers, these three servants wanted both a far away and a less prestigious job. John & Fanny were really that bad!

Another mark against General Tilney's character is that he gets irrationally angry at/scares servants:

To such anxious attention was the General’s civility carried, that not aware of her extraordinary swiftness in entering the house, he was quite angry with the servant whose neglect had reduced her to open the door of the apartment herself. “What did William mean by it? He should make a point of inquiring into the matter.” And if Catherine had not most warmly asserted his innocence, it seemed likely that William would lose the favour of his master forever, if not his place, by her rapidity.

“Why! How can you ask the question? Because no time is to be lost in frightening my old housekeeper out of her wits, because I must go and prepare a dinner for you, to be sure.” (Henry, on his father coming to his house for a visit. This may be half a joke, but General Tilney is very critical of the meal)

Mrs. Ferrars's character is made quite plain in this complaint about paying annuities (basically a pension here) to some of her husband's old servants:

I have known a great deal of the trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of three to old superannuated servants by my father’s will, and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it. Twice every year these annuities were to be paid; and then there was the trouble of getting it to them; and then one of them was said to have died, and afterwards it turned out to be no such thing. My mother was quite sick of it. Her income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; and it was the more unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money would have been entirely at my mother’s disposal, without any restriction whatever.

Mrs. Ferrars is loaded, and she begrudges paying a few pounds to 3 servants. She is greedy and ungrateful.

Mrs. Norris's treatment of the servants is similar to her treatment of Fanny. It shows the depth of her miserliness (how much could one boy really eat?) and also cruelty:

"I had been looking about me in the poultry-yard, and was just coming out, when who should I see but Dick Jackson making up to the servants’ hall-door with two bits of deal board in his hand, bringing them to father, you may be sure; mother had chanced to send him of a message to father, and then father had bid him bring up them two bits of board, for he could not no how do without them. I knew what all this meant, for the servants’ dinner-bell was ringing at the very moment over our heads; and as I hate such encroaching people (the Jacksons are very encroaching, I have always said so: just the sort of people to get all they can), I said to the boy directly (a great lubberly fellow of ten years old, you know, who ought to be ashamed of himself), ‘I’ll take the boards to your father, Dick, so get you home again as fast as you can.’ The boy looked very silly, and turned away without offering a word, for I believe I might speak pretty sharp; and I dare say it will cure him of coming marauding about the house for one while. I hate such greediness—so good as your father is to the family, employing the man all the year round!”

It also highlights her hypocrisy, as Mrs. Norris has moved in during the play to help with the preparations, so she is getting free meals all week but she won't let this kid eat when he's helping his father (who is building the stage for the play)

Mr. Knightley considers the common people of Highbury before moving a path, even though he likely owns all of the land and can do whatever he wants:

"But John, as to what I was telling you of my idea of moving the path to Langham, of turning it more to the right that it may not cut through the home meadows, I cannot conceive any difficulty. I should not attempt it, if it were to be the means of inconvenience to the Highbury people, but if you call to mind exactly the present line of the path"

The kind Musgroves, who have given their nursemaid a retirement plan instead of turning her out:

A chaise was sent for from Crewkherne, and Charles conveyed back a far more useful person in the old nursery-maid of the family, one who having brought up all the children, and seen the very last, the lingering and long-petted Master Harry, sent to school after his brothers, was now living in her deserted nursery to mend stockings and dress all the blains and bruises she could get near her, and who, consequently, was only too happy in being allowed to go and help nurse dear Miss Louisa.

And who clearly are rewarded for this kindness.

Anne Elliot showing kindness to Mrs. Smith, who has nearly fallen right out of the gentry, vs. her fathers disdain for charity:

“Westgate Buildings!” said he, “and who is Miss Anne Elliot to be visiting in Westgate Buildings? A Mrs Smith. A widow Mrs Smith; and who was her husband? One of five thousand Mr Smiths whose names are to be met with everywhere. And what is her attraction? That she is old and sickly. Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliot, you have the most extraordinary taste! Everything that revolts other people, low company, paltry rooms, foul air, disgusting associations are inviting to you. But surely you may put off this old lady till to-morrow: she is not so near her end, I presume, but that she may hope to see another day. What is her age? Forty?”

Added to Sir Walter and Elizabeth's idea to cut expenses:

“Can we retrench? Does it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?” and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two branches of economy, to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom."

Vs. how the Crofts treat the poor:

She could have said more on the subject; for she had in fact so high an opinion of the Crofts, and considered her father so very fortunate in his tenants, felt the parish to be so sure of a good example, and the poor of the best attention and relief, that however sorry and ashamed for the necessity of the removal, she could not but in conscience feel that they were gone who deserved not to stay, and that Kellynch Hall had passed into better hands than its owners’.

Henry Crawford's moral fall begins with ignoring the needs of his tenants:

"I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property... I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?”

Of course, Henry does not go to Everginham, as he knows is right, but instead goes to the party in London, where he again runs into Maria...

Yes, Austen didn't write servants/the lower classes as full characters in general, they are in the background and around the edges of the scenes, but over and over, we can sort characters into moral and immoral by their treatment of those less fortunate around them.

[detectivestucks2]

Becoming His Queen

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: True Form Sukuna x F!Reader

Summery: Sukuna's harem consists of two kinds of women. His 'toys' and his 'wives'. Being his most tenured concubine you prepare his new toys when one clawed their way under your skin. Sukuna saw his favorite well-mannered wife behave like one of his toys resulting in you spending the night in his chambers instead of her.

Warnings: NSFW, violence, harsh spanking, Choking, Oral female receiving, rough nipple play, anal play, DP, Unprotected Penetration, Cream pie.

Word Count: 5.9k

Sukuna is a twisted master. Over your five years in his harem you’ve watched girl after girl come and go as he played his games with them. Sukuna has an interesting taste. He loves fiery and defiant women who refuse to bend the knee. He loves dragging them into his bedchamber and breaking them. He loves when they spit on him in defiance, when they hit him or try to run away. He loves chaining them to his bed and playing with their bodies, watching as they become hopelessly hooked on the pleasure only he can provide. He loves watching their faces of disgust beg for the tongue of his belly to lap at their clit while he stuffs both their holes with his two cocks. He loves turning the most stubborn women into submissive sex dolls.

It is a game to him. The world’s most fun game that he can play over and over again. The only problem is that once he has worn the woman down, she loses her use. She is a broken toy and is soon discarded. 

So how did you retain your tenure in his harem? On nights where Sukuna doesn’t feel like playing games, nights where he just wants a doting woman to do as she’s told and be happy about it, he turns to whom he affectionately dubs as ‘his wives.’ There are three of you in this group. Beautiful, kind, submissive, and willing to do anything Lord Sukuna asks. 

It takes a brave woman to be both kind and willing to do anything the King requests. Some of his kinks can be rather distasteful and sometimes the thing he wants most is for his wife to ride him till he falls asleep which can take hours. If you stop too soon or become too tired, he will beat you and likely dismiss you. No, you’re not a toy, but the position is just as hard. No, he doesn’t work you as often, but when he does, it’s usually after a bad day. No, he won’t dispose of you as fast, but you have to navigate his darker side and do so with a smile on your face.

Of his three wives you are the one he calls on the most. Your chest might not be as perky, you may have stretch marks (some of which Sukuna left on your skin), and you might not be as young, but you are the most obedient, you try the hardest to please him, and you are the most successful at calming him after a rough day. 

When he came back from battle, sometimes he wants to play some more, and gods bless the toy he has in the harem if that is the case. You do your best not to think of the things he does to them when he’s in that kind of mood. But other times he wants a pretty face to wipe away the blood, bathe him, and clean his clothes while he details exactly how he slaughtered masses with ease. 

You believe he prefers you in this role because you are genuinely interested in his battles. You scrub his painted nails as he tells you how he used them to slice open a man’s neck.

 “The filthy monkey thought it was okay to beat his foster children” 

You coo and tell your Lord how proud you are of him. That he is a great and just man. And he will take the same finger that stole life hours prior and trace your jaw bone with it. That same hand that crushed another’s skull as he entered his estate, will tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you can’t help but feel pride at knowing a man capable of such destruction would never harm you. Not like that at least. 

Sukuna isn’t as nice to the other two wives of his harem. One of them he keeps solely because she is a pretty crier. She is too scared to say no to anything (not that she’s allowed) and will do whatever your Lord asks. As you know, sometimes Sukuna’s kinks are distasteful and he loves forcing his youngest wife to do them because of her obvious revulsion. He loves to hear her whine and cry, licking up her tears as they fall from her cheeks. 

The other wife is newer to your elite tier in the harem. She is certainly the most beautiful. Though not having a particular personality trait that he prefers means she will not survive long. She will be replaced as soon as a prettier face comes along.

You, however, are the longest standing concubine to ever stay in his harem. Uraume tells you he has never kept a concubine, even one he deems a wife, for longer than two years. Around your third year at the estate you were filled with anxiety when it had been too long between calls. You would constantly fret about getting dismissed until one day Uraume had to calm you down in the gardens. They assured you that Sukuna had no plans of dismissing you. That was the day you learned you were his favorite. Thanks to Uraume’s words, you felt better and allowed yourself to resume your role as leader of the harem with more confidence. 

*******************************************

This particular afternoon Uraume drags in a new woman who is to be part of Sukuna's collection of toys. She is exceedingly beautiful with long dark hair. She has quite a mouth on her and clearly has had combat training. Just his type. You give an approving nod and tell the girl you’ll be back once she’s adjusted to her situation. 

Later that night you go to visit her room with the usual oils and perfumes along with two chambermaids. You sit her at the vanity and comb her hair. You tell her the kinds of things Sukuna likes and the things he hates. What to avoid saying and doing so that she doesn’t get herself killed, and what the general order of things is. Naturally she cusses you out and tries to degrade you with her words, and like all the other girls, the things she says roll off your shoulders. 

Sukuna, like any other man, has his flaws. He is not a perfect being. He has his temper and he does bad things, but he is also a man in need of love and affection. And when he returns that affection it is the most addicting drug on the face of this cursed planet. A drug so powerful that you have devoted your life and your freedom to it. The toys never see it at first, but in the end they do. They always do.

When the girl attempts to lay a hand on you, you simply duck and warn her that if she wishes to get physical then she will be locked in her room and denied free reign of the estate. She aims to strike you again so you gather your things and leave. The chambermaids lock her bedroom door from the outside after you exit and tuck the key away. 

“The two of you should come together in the morning with Uraume in case she tries to attack you”

“Thank you for your concern my Lady.”

“Please, you know you don’t have to be so formal with me.”

“On the contrary. You are the third highest member of the estate.”

A soft smile dusts over your face as you reach out and hold a finger under each of their chins. “Nonsense. We all serve Lord Sukuna. We just do so in different ways.”

“Thank you my Lady, but if it is all the same, we would feel more comfortable addressing you as such.”

You giggle and roll your eyes. “If you insist. But just know you might give me a bit of an ego.”

The two girls giggle and the three of you part ways. 

**********************************************

The next day Uraume lets the new toy out of her chambers while Sukuna’s tending to business beyond his estate. You dally in the gardens and ask for a pair of shears to prune one of the bushes. The servants know better than to protest and let you do the pruning yourself as it frustrates you to instruct the groundskeepers exactly where to trim when they know you find the process therapeutic. 

After five years of residence at the estate, everyone knows you. Your likes, your dislikes, your preferred activities, how to tell you’re in a good mood, how to tell you’re in a bad one, and every detail in between. Most of the staff has even seen you naked.  So when you ask for garden shears, there is no debate. They simply hand you the blades.

You are happily trimming away with your lady in waiting when the new toy spots you. 

“You bitch!”

“Good Afternoon!” you hum

“You locked me in my room!”

“I did not lock you in your room. I warned you what is the consequence when you become violent. It is not my fault you chose not to heed my warning.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t turn the key!”

“I didn’t”

“Lying whore!”

“If you’re going to insult me, you can surely think of something better. I am not a liar and I do not get paid to sleep with Lord Sukuna. I do it because it is my duty…and it’s rather fun.”

Your lady in waiting smirks at your calm retort as your eyes meet for just a second. 

In his office, Sukuna recently arrived back from a visit with some upper level curses. He opens the window that overlooks the gardens only to hear the sound of your voice talking to an unknown woman. She must be his latest toy. He’s satisfied with Uraume’s choice in girl but can’t help the smile he wears at your words. Instead of sitting down at his desk, Sukuna continues to stand by the window and eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Fucking brainwashed slut. You’re such a stupid woman. I’ll never become like you-”

“That’s what they all say.” you interject before she’s done.

“What would some phony King want with someone like you anyways? You’re easily the ugliest woman here.” 

“And yet I’ve been here five years.” you say with a shrug.

“He probably keeps you around because only an ugly woman would be happy fucking a hideous monster.”

“Careful now. You don’t want to get caught talking about our King that way.”

“Or what, he gonna kill me?”

“He could do far worse than that, my dear.”

The woman strikes you across the face “Don’t call me that.”

You cup your cheek as your maiden gasps. You take a deep breath and continue pruning.

“I relish the days when girls like you come crawling out of their rooms, knees weak, and eyes blown wide at the truth.”

She goes to hit you again but this time you dodge it. You take another deep breath and continue to scrutinize the bush before you. 

“What? Too weak to fight back?”

“No” you say with a sigh

“Don’t act like you’re better than me! You’re a pathetic excuse for a human and an even worse excuse for a whore.”

You purse your lips and continue pruning

“I bet this King you care for so much isn’t even that special.”

“Watch it. Even if he doesn’t hear you, I won’t have you disrespect him in front of me any more.”

She snatches the shears from your hands and begins to hurl insults at you as she tries to hit you with them. “Stupid fucking cunt! Fuck you and your King!”

You grab her wrist before the blades can cut your face and give her a swift slap across the cheek. You lean into her ear as your fingers close harshly around her wrist, sure to leave a bruise under your angry grip. With a sharp tongue you whisper threateningly,

“I can’t wait to visit your chamber after your first night with him.”

You proceed to knee her in the stomach to make way for you to storm off the grounds and head back inside, seething with rage. You didn’t mean to let her get the better of you. You never would have before. The toys always come in feisty like that but something about this one got under your skin. 

Meanwhile, up in Sukuna’s office, he was left feeling very different about you. He had never seen your moxy but watching you just now made his cock twitch. You were always so tender and submissive for him. He never knew you to have a temper. But now that he had a taste, he needed more.

****************************************

That night you unexpectedly get a knock on your door. You open it to find Uraume standing on your threshold. 

“I know, I shouldn’t have hit the new girl.” you say with downcast eyes

“Actually I didn’t come here to reprimand you for your actions.”

You lift your head. Curiosity plain across your features.

“His lordship would like to lay with you tonight.”

“Oh..I, uh, I wasn’t expecting him to call for a few days. We have a new girl.”

“I am aware, however, he insisted on seeing you tonight.”

“I will get ready then.”

“Please act with haste. He seemed rather anxious.”

You nod and quickly turn to prep yourself for your duties. You comb your hair and pin it up loosely. Sukuna loves a hairstyle that he can easily grab and ruin. You lightly paint your face so that any pleasured tears you cry will be visible, and you freshly shave all the usual places before rubbing vanilla oil on your various pulse points. You don a silky kimono that is easy to discard and follow Uraume to Sukuna’s bedchambers.

You enter the impressive room and immediately fall to the floor in a bow before your eyes can rest on the face of his highness.

“Good evening My King.”

“Good evening Wife” 

It’s been five years but the title still makes you blush, especially when he says it so tenderly. Tonight he was certainly in a different kind of mood. His black silk robe was already untied, his full manhood on mouthwatering display. You lift your head, sit on your knees and address him.

“My lord, why did you call on me? We have a new mistress in the harem.”

“Why? Did you not want to see me?”

A look of panic washes over your features, “No! I always wish to see you, I just…”

“Were too busy being the ugliest woman here.”

Your face reddens as you realize he witnessed your earlier outburst. “I’m sorry my Lord. I should’ve never carried myself in such a manner.”

“Now you’re talking like a brainwashed slut.”

You feel flustered as you wonder how much of the earlier conversation he heard. You feel a bit indignant at him using the same insults on you that the new girl did but your role is to be his submissive.

“Yes, my Lord” you bow your head, “I am your brainwashed slut.”

“What? Too weak to fight back my dear?”

You begin to chew the inside of your cheek. “A lady doesn’t fight my Lord.”

Sukuna is wearing a huge smirk across his face and you can tell he’s enjoying your discomfort. “Are you a lady or are you a lying whore?!”

“I don’t lie!” you shout before you can catch yourself.

“There she is!”

You slap your hand over your mouth. Sukuna lunges at you using one of his four arms to grab you by the bicep and fling you onto the bed. 

“Wanna say that again whore?”

“My Lord, I-”

“You what?” 

Sukuna’s upper two hands pin your arms above your head while his lower two hands hold up his body weight as he hovers over you.

“You’re just a dumb cunt who wants to fuck her King, right?”

You gulp as you gaze up into his crimson eyes. His lower arms already opening your robe and taking hold of your hips. 

“What, lost your tongue?”

You chew on your bottom lip realizing he’s looking to play with you like one of his defiant toys. If that’s the case, you’ll fulfill your duty. Admittedly, you’re excited to find out what happens when you dare to defy the great and powerful Sukuna. 

“I am no cunt. I have a cunt and I allow my King to have access to it. Have you seen him?”

“Don’t talk to me like you don’t know me woman.” he says with a harsh slap to your breast. You let out a moan on impact.

“You like that? Do whores like having their tits slapped?”

He slaps you again to which you moan. “Answer me.”

“Yes” you breathe

He beats you with his lower set of arms while you strain in the hold of his upper ones. You yelp and moan cause it feels so good for all the wrong reasons.

“Quiet! I’ve heard enough of your screams.”

He lunges in and kisses you feverishly. It was unusual for Sukuna to kiss a woman’s lips. It is an act he views as intimate and one he saved for certain moods. There have been several times where Sukuna has kissed you over your tenure, usually being the concubine involved in his more vulnerable moments, but you certainly never expected him to kiss you like this. Your mind spiraled as the sting of his beating sill seared your skin. You couldn’t help but arch your back, attempting to press your chest up against his, as you made humming noises in contentment.

His lower arms curled under your waist, pulling you close, though your wrists still remained captive in his clutches. Your heart leaps into your throat as you feel his muscular chest close around yours. Your mouth needy for his when he breaks the kiss and whispers in your ear,

“Tonight, I fuck you like a brat. Tomorrow, I make you my Queen.”

Your breath catches in your neck. Mind dizzy at his words and what they could mean but you don’t have time to contemplate them. Sukuna brings his heavy hand down on your sex, slapping between your legs and making you jump. 

“I bet you like being beaten down here too, don’t you?”

He slaps between your legs again. You thrash following each blow from him. Arousal starts to stick to his skin prompting him to bring his hand to his nose. He takes a long drag as he wafts your scent into his nostrils before he shoves his fingers in your face. 

“You smell that? That’s the smell of your cunt begging for attention. Does that pretty pussy need attention?”

“Yes my King”

“Too bad. I’m not done playing with you yet.”

He punctuates with another slap to your sex, groans sputtering out of you like the wench he craves. Sukuna’s hands run all over your body while you’re trapped beneath him. You were his to touch and grope however he chose. His mouth trailed hickies all over your skin with painstaking intensity. His fangs punctured your skin at times as he sucked the markings in both visible and tender places. A tapestry of bruises ran along your supple flesh and over to your mounds. Sukuna biting and teething on the perky nubs that lay at their center. 

You throw your head back from the stimulation, rubbing your legs together, dying to have friction.

“Did I say you could close your legs?”

He breathes menacingly into your chest.

“I needed to-”

“There you go with that smart mouth of yours.”

He bites down on your chest as he uses his knees to open your legs. He unleashes the tongue on his stomach, allowing it to enjoy snacking on your folds as his mouth continues to play with your nipples. Alternating which one he flicks his tongue over and which one feels the cruel sting of his fingertips pinching it. 

You whine and cry and he just loves feeling you squirming under him instead of taking it like a good little wife. His large lower tongue points its tip and bullies its way between your lips, slipping inside your hole. Your back snaps into an arch, your pupils blow wide, choked moans emanating from you. Sukuna happily hums at your possessed state, pride coursing through his veins everytime he whips his whores into this kind of frenzy. He especially loves it when he does it to you. 

“You like that, my little whore?”

You’re unable to answer. His tongue shoves itself deeper and all you can do is whine and thrash.

“Use your words.”

“ngh! Yes! Yes! I love it! Yes!” 

You’re shouting, panting, and whining, already consumed by overstimulation as his abdominal tongue toys with your folds. Your eyes scrunch shut, barely able to receive such treatment.

“No more my King! No more! It’s too much! gaaahhh!”

“I tell you when you’ve had enough!”

You scream and he loves every second of it. His calm, collected wife, reduced to thrashing and screaming. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get bored of the many sides of you.

You’re kicking and screaming till suddenly you go stiff as a board. Legs and arms shoot out straight, head snapped back, spine thrown into an arch. Your screams cease as you spray into the open mouth of your King’s stomach. His mouth grumbles happily as he laps up your juice straight from the source. 

You fall limp. Sweat beading on your brow as you catch your breath. “S-sukena…more p-please.”

“What did you just call me? You dare call me by name?!”

Your brain feels fried and you can barely comprehend what you said. It takes a moment of buffering before blood flow returns to your mind for you to realize your error.

“M-m’sorry my King. I didn’t mean to!”

He grabs you at your waist as he sits up, throwing you over his lap. He folds your arms together behind your back, restraining you with his left set of arms while his right set moves your kimono aside to strike your bottom. He hits you with more force than he’s ever used and it immediately leaves behind a red mark. 

“Filthy brat. You dare speak my name?!”

“M’sorry!” you cry as he continues his blows.

“I graciously tongue fuck you and this is the respect you show me?!”

“M’so sorry my Lord!”

You weep over his knee as he continues to bruise the flesh of your behind, berating you for being a disrespectful brat. You cry and beg, apologizing over and over again. 

“Please my Lord! Show mercy!”

“You want mercy? Show me how sorry you are.”

“Yes my Lord”

He releases your hands as he lays down, waiting for you to mount him. You straddle his lap and move your hand to wipe away your tears when he stops you. His hand grabs your wrist and he lifts his head to lick your tears away. As his warm muscle wipes against your cheek, you lift his hands to your lips. You kiss his knuckles on every hand then stroke his left cheek with your thumb. Your hand dwarfs in comparison to his larger stature but you see his harsh facade break momentarily as you lift your teary face to kiss his jaw.

“I’m sorry my King. I will never misstep again.”

You know he forgives you but you can tell he’s not done having his fun. A mischievous smile splits his face as he lays back with his upper set of arms folded behind his head. 

“Prove it.”

You nod and shift your body to hover over his manhood. You align yourself with his lower length when he tuts. 

“Y/N” he warns, “You know better.”

“Yes, my Lord”

You shift again but this time you stick your finger in your mouth to lubricate it before you reach behind to prep your rear to take Sukuna’s massive girth. Sukuna’s hand yanks your wrist away.

“Brats don’t get to prep themselves. Brats take dick without complaint.”

Your bottom lip quivers. You know how injured you could get, especially with how Sukuna liked to fuck. Sukuna throws his head back in laughter at your response. 

“Get to riding Brat.”

Your throat bobs as you swallow and nod. “Yes, my Lord”

You lift your hips and slip his front member into your heat before easing his back member against your puckered rear. You close your eyes to relax the muscle so that he will fit when he bucks up his hips and forces it in. 

“My King!” you protest

“Quiet!”

You whine and begin to ride him. Soon you loosen and he glides into you in the most satisfying way. Normally you love how he can fill both holes at once and stuff you full all in the same stroke. Your face falls into one of pleasured bliss as you bounce up and down on him. 

“Yes, my Lord, yes. Feels s’good.”

“Faster slut.”

You rest your hands on his stomach, using them to balance yourself as you pick up speed. 

This is Sukuna’s favorite position so you are well versed in how he likes it and your muscles are well trained to withstand this position for hours. Sukuna can't help the look of affection that graces his features as he watches you work for him. He loves how you always serve him so well. Once he edged himself intentionally to see how long you would keep riding him before you gave up. After just over three hours he showed mercy to your exhausted body and allowed himself to release. He nearly dismissed his entire harem the next day. No one works harder to please him than you do. Your undying loyalty is on par with Uraume’s. How they found you, he will never know, but he is grateful to them for recruiting you to his staff. 

As you slide up and down his lengths, he raises a hand to smack your backside. You grunt, still bruised from your earlier spanking. A playful smile tugs at his corner lip. You catch it and know he’s satisfied but keeping up his act. He reaches up to pinch at your buds to which your face twists in pain but the pain only makes you clench around his shafts tighter as your arousal builds.

Sukuna, being the greedy man that he is, can’t help and only tug at your chest. He needs to taste it again. He sits up, causing you to drop to your knees as you keep bouncing up and down. He lowers his head to suckle and bite at your breasts, the tissue already marked from moments prior. Your arms rest on his shoulders as your hands play in his hair. The pink strands soft between your fingers. 

Between pleasured cries and choked moans you whisper in his ear, “I love you, my King.”

Though he isn't about to admit it, the feelings he has towards you, though maybe not the love you feel for him, could certainly be akin to what one might perceive as love. You are his prize jewel, the most valued of his treasures, and despite what that toy said, you are definitely the most beautiful in his collection. 

Starting tomorrow he will wear you on his knee in the throne room, you will be present for all his business meetings, and you will share his bed unless told otherwise. You will be given the title of his queen. That much, you have earned. 

Without thinking, Sukuna wraps his lower arms around you and rolls you onto your back. The transition so smooth that his cocks never slip from your holes. The warm emotions he’s feeling towards you kindle a desire to pleasure you. He begins to thrust as one set of arms tucks your knees into your chest. He went impossibly deep and both his dicks rubbed you just right, hitting all the sweet spots that make you mewl for him. Never would you wish to be a concubine for anyone else when there is a world with Sukuna in it. Your small hands grasp at his shoulders where his tattoos darken his skin. You cling to him as he prods against your cervix, pushing it aside to reach deeper in your cavern. Your eyes squeeze shut as his thrusts harshen and he continues to wind the coil in your belly. The need building till it cannot build any higher. With a snap, your nails dig into Sukuna’s skin as your legs shake, trapped under his belly.

In a cruel twist, his lower tongue slurps on your clit as you ride through your orgasm. Your eyes crossing, body convulsing, and nails digging, leaving behind  scratch marks that Sukuna is proud of not too happy about. 

“You dare leave your mark on a King?!”

“I c-couldn’t help it.” you plea, your fucked out mind trying to catch up to current events.

“Stop behaving like a brat and take ownership of your actions!”

Sukuna flips you over to your stomach and pulls your hips back so that you’re propped up on your knees. He rams both cocks inside your holes but luckily for you, they glide in with ease. 

Immediately Sukuna reaches for your hair, grasping a large fist full and yanking your head back.

“Arch that back, whore. Make sure I reach all the way in.”

“Y-yes my Lord”

He yanks again and you let out a whine of discomfort as you sink your spine towards the mattress.

“That’s better”

Sukuna spanks your sore behind as he begins to thrust into you. Guttural groans expel from your lips as he reaches the depths of your core. Each stroke rearranging your insides, shoved out of the way to make room for his girthy manhood.

“Fu-u-u-uck!”

Your entire body is overwhelmed by him. One set of arms controlling your hips, the other lets go of your hair and plays with your breasts. You gasp for air but he rails into your diaphragm and displaces it, knocking the wind out of you with each snap of his hips.

It is the most blissful torture one could receive from your beloved King. You could never get your fill of him. Not even when your body passes out from exhaustion. If he allowed you to, you’d crawl back into his bed the moment you wake up to receive more. 

His arms readjust so that he is more rough with you. He pulls your arms behind your back, using them as leverage to hold you against his hips as he pounds into you. His other set still plays with your chest, finding purchase on your nipples, tugging at them meanly, causing pain. But the pain feels so good. Cream collects around Sukuna’s base and he knows he has you. You fall apart around him, your walls and sphincter impossibly tight. You feel like a virgin every time but you handle him like a pro. 

You gasp and moan; the bedroom walls echo with your sounds. The waves tickling Sukuna’s ears in a way that spurs him on. One of his massive hands reaches up and closes around your throat, cutting off your air supply. The other clamps down over your mouth. Your sounds die in your chest. Desperately, your hands grip at his wrists, trying to pry his hands off of you. 

Your feeble attempts bring a chuckle to his tongue and he twists your sensitive and abused nubs just to check if you can scream. When he feels the vibrations of you trying he all out booms with laughter. 

He withdraws one hand from your tit and plays with your clit. You gush around him as your walls suck him in more forcefully. 

“Little slut likes being stuffed with her clit touched, doesn’t she?”

You try your best to nod but between the oxygen deprivation and the paralyzing pleasure, it is nearly impossible to control even a single muscle fiber. All of it was too much. Building uncontrollable tension in your lower abdomen, ready to snap any moment.

“Bet she likes it when I do this too.”

He takes the calloused fingers that were rubbing circles over your clit and pinched down on the swollen nerve bundle. Immediately you shower the bed in your squirt. Your body seizing under his grip. Drool spilling out of the corner of your mouth. He fucked you dumb and you fell lifeless before him as he picks up his pace. There was no time to recover as he strokes in and out of you. Watching you crumble before him, melt into a puddle of flesh at his touch, strain against his cocks, it all fed his ego and his pride. It validated him as King. He continued to take you from behind and pistoned into you, chasing his high. 

With your hips held high and your chest shoved into the mattress, Sukuna pounds his cum into you. His hot white ropes fill your belly as your walls suck him dry. When he finally withdrew he yanks you by your hair to turn around and wipe off his cocks and hands with your tongue. You suck all twenty fingers and lick both cock till they are clean. 

Sukuna then has you lay on your back so as not to waste his cum. He doesn't normally finish inside his concubines. The wives may be different, but even then, it was rare. Tonight however, marks a new chapter for you. You don't quiet understand it yet as your brain is still recovering from being fucked stupid, but you are to become his Queen. He had never had one before but he knows he wants you to be held above the rest. You lay on his bed, happily gazing up at him, fingers tracing the tattoo on his wrist.

“My King, shall I take my leave?”

“No, you are to stay here tonight.”

“Oh? You desire company while you sleep?”

“Yes. I desire you to sleep here every night.”

“Oh…I see.”

“I also desire you to call me by my name sometimes.”

“My Lord, I am only your concubine, not your peer. I-”

“You will call me Sukuna. Maybe one day even Ryomen.”

“My King, what did I do to deserve this?”

Your eyes are watery with wonder as you gaze up at him. You hold one of Sukuna’s large palms to your cheek, resting your soft flesh against it, nuzzling into his hand.

“You are everything I need. You showed me that today. You can fulfill all my desires. I have no need for other women.”

“May I make a request or two?”

Sukuna thinks hard before he obliged. 

“Please keep your harem. If not for use then to keep me company…when you are away.”

“I see. Then the girls will stay.”

Sukuna sinks his large body down beside you, not caring about the wet spot you created with your earlier spray. His sole focus is on your delicate frame as you contemplate his words and your new role. You settle into his strong arms, feeling safe in his embrace as you continue to draw your fingers over the black ink of his skin. 

“One last request my Lord?”

“Sukuna.”

You make a point to start over. “Sukuna... may I make one last request?”

“Yes, my Queen.”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the heat in your cheeks as he addresses you with such a high honor. 

“Please my Lord, may I watch you tame your new toy before you dismiss her?”

The dangerous look in your eyes is one Sukuna has never seen before but he quickly comes to realize it is his favorite of your facial expressions. 

“Yes my Queen. If you’d like…you can even help me break her in.”

Kakashi/Obito Fics

Payment

Escape with the Cursed King

[mellowsaturns]

in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER

summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action

wc: 4.7k

a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)

Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.

And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.

Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.

On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.

Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.

“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”

He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.

One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.

You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.

With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”

The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.

“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.

But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.

Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”

Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.

On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.

Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.

Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”

Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”

After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.

The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.

Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.

But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.

Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.

Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.

How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.

Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.

During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.

Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.

You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”

He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.

His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”

When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.

“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”

“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”

He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.

He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”

You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”

“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”

He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.

“Let me talk to her. Please.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”

“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.

And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.

You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”

Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”

My darling.

For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.

The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.

You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”

Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.

There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.

You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.

“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”

He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.

“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”

Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.

“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”

“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”

In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.

You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.

He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.

Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.

They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.

During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.

And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.

Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.

He misses you. So damn much.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.

“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”

“I’m sorry I left you with them.”

You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.

He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”

The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.

He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.

A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.

The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.

You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.

“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.

Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.

Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”

“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”

You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.

Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.

You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.

But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.

“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.

Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.

“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”

He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”

You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”

“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”

Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.

“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”

He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.

He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.

When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”

You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.

“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”

Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.

Those were your trigger words.

“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.

Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.

Blue.

You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.

At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.

“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”

He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”

You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”

Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.

“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”

And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.

You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”

Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.

He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.

Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.

“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.

Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.

He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”

Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.

“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.

There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.

You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.

But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.

He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.

The blond raises his arms up in surrender.

“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.

“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.

Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”

You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.

Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.

A new beginning awaits.

[holylulusworld]

Their girl

Summary: Your boss doesn’t even know your name. This doesn’t keep his guests from finding interest in you.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Shy!Reader x Mobster!Steve Rogers

Warnings: shy reader, tension, awkwardness, fluff, polyamory, love-struck mobsters

A/N: The sequel no one expected to get.

Catch up here: The nameless girl

True to their words, Steve and Bucky stood in front of your apartment the next evening.

They prepared everything for your date while you spent the better part of the day looking for a new job.

This couldn’t be real. And you believed they wanted to make fun of you by inviting you for dinner like one of the beautiful girls from the club. 

“Hello doll,” Bucky lazily leaned in your door frame. He offered a bouquet of daisies to you and called you a pretty mouse.

“Sweet mouse,” Steve grinned and offered a single red rose to you, “you look…stunning.” They both looked dashing in their expensive suits, and polished shoes. 

“I-sorry. I’m not ready yet and…” you nervously babbled. Still, in your oversized Peanuts shirt and sweatpants, you looked ridiculous next to them. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

“Why?” Bucky furrowed his brows. He looked a little hurt at your words. “Why’d you think we would not keep our word and come here to court you.”

“I,” you dropped your gaze, afraid you angered the two of them. “Men like you don’t usually pay attention to someone like me. I’m shy, meek, and a grey mouse in contrast to the dancers at the club.”

“Doll,” Bucky pushed the flowers in Steve’s hands so he could cup your face with both hands. “If we say we want to take you out,” he leaned closer to look you deep in the eyes. “We mean what we say. We want to take you out. Not one of the girls at the club nor anyone else.”

You sniffled and murmured an apology. It was strange to you that two men tried to get your attention. Life taught you that most men only like a pretty façade.

Many guys you met didn’t care if a girl was selfish, dumb, or had the worst character as long as they were pretty enough to get their attention. 

“Y/N don’t apologize. I know we can be a bit overwhelming and intense,” Steve smirked when your eyes darted toward him. “Buck, tell her how much we like her.”

“Very much,” Bucky purred your name. He swiped his thumb over your lower lip only to groan deeply when you licked over his thumb and lightly sucked on it. “Fuck, Stevie. We got a dirty little mouse here.”

“Oh?” Steve watched you look at his friend like you were in a trance. “She’s such a cute surprise. Who would've thought we’d find our queen among all those boring girls.”

Bucky pecked your temple, making you sigh at the slightest touch of his lips. “We got lucky,” he said. “She’s one in a million.”

Steve chuckled at his friend’s eagerness. “How about we invite you for dinner at our home, Y/N. You can wear your cute shirt and sweatpants. We can have a sleepover and have dinner at the restaurant tomorrow.”

“We also got a job offer for you, doll,” Bucky whispered against your temple. “We got a free position in our organization.”

“Buck, that was a surprise!” Steve tutted but smirked when your eyes lit up. Losing your job at Clint’s club got you into trouble. Your landlord wants his money on time, not weeks or months later. “What do you say, doll? Do you want to come with us?”

“No.”

“No?” Bucky backpaddled at your answer. He looked you up and down, wondering if he misheard. “Did you say no?”

You took a deep breath and gathered all the courage you could muster and looked Bucky straight in the eyes. 

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful, Mr. Barnes,” you confidentially said, even though, your voice trembled, “but you are still strangers to me. I cannot go with you, to a place I don’t know. I’m shy, not crazy.”

“Aw, she’s even cuter than I thought,” Steve chuckled at your little outburst. “You’re right, Y/N. We will wait outside of your apartment for you to get ready like gentlemen. Please excuse our forwardness.”

“Steve and I will take you out for dinner and drive you back home. We can talk about the job offer on our way to the restaurant. Only if you want to, of course,” Bucky pouted and held out his hand. “Please don’t leave us hanging.”

“I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself and closed the door behind you, exhaling deeply. Your knees shook, but you were also proud of yourself for standing up against Steve and Bucky.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, smirking for a second before they chuckled. 

“She’s so cute when mad,” Bucky laughed. “God, it makes me wild imagining her squirming underneath me while I take her apart. She will whimper my name and beg me to fill her up and breed her. But not before I ate her sweet cunt.”

Steve laughed. “You’re a horny dog.”

“Says the man running around with a boner since he laid eyes on our sweet mouse,” Bucky bit back. “I hope you know I’ll have her first. She will melt in my arms.”

“I hope you know Y/N is not like the other girls you easily wrapped around your fingers.”

“I know,” the brunette smirked. “That’s what I like about her, Steve. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her that things would be different with Y/N. It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

“Phew, you got it bad for her,” Steve whistled.

“You are no better,” Bucky snickered. “I know you want to make her ours. Do not deny it. You’re in too deep yourself.”

Both men waited patiently for you to join them outside of your apartment. They offered their arm to you, acting like gentlemen while guiding you toward their car.

The ride toward the restaurant was both, exciting and a little scary. You got into a car with two strangers promising to make you their queen.

Steve held the door to the restaurant open for you while Bucky guided you inside.

“You’ll love the restaurant,” Bucky said as he pulled the chair for you. “Did I already tell you that you look beautiful tonight, doll?”

“Thank you,” you stammered. You didn’t know if he meant what he said. Your sky-blue mini-dress was far from elegant. While all the other women at the restaurant looked like they came straight out of a fashion magazine, you felt underdressed. “It’s new…”

“I like that color on you,” Steve cupped your chin with one hand to tilt your head. “It’s cute and sweet.” You gasped feeling his lips press against the corner of your mouth. “Just like you.”

Bucky’s features darkened when you leaned into his friend’s touch.

“Shall we eat, doll?” He pulled a chair for you, making your heart flutter. “Steve was right, Y/N. You look beautiful in your dress. Did you buy it only for us?”

You giggled and dropped your gaze. “No,” you lied. “I bought it some weeks ago.”

“Aw, our doll believes she can lie to us, Buck,” Steve flashed you a stunning smile. “We know that you wanted to look pretty for us, Y/N. It’s not a bad thing you want to impress us. We did the same. Bucky spent two hours in his closet to find the perfect suit only to drive to town and buy a new one.”

“Steve did the same,” Bucky grabbed a chair and moved it closer to your seat. “He just likes to make everyone believe he looks good in everything without effort, including a potato sack.”

Steve grinned and ran one hand down his chest. “I’d rock that potato sack, Barnes. You know that.”

“I bet you would,” you murmured while eyeing Steve. He looked damn good in his suit and knew it. Men like him and Bucky always know how handsome they are. “You’re both very handsome.”

“Baby, you don’t have to stroke Steve’s ego,” Bucky moved his hand to your thigh to tickle your skin. “It’s already over the top. How about you stroke mine.”

“I think yours is over the top too,” you replied and gave him a tiny smirk before clearing your throat. “So…can we talk about the job now? You got me fired last night.”

“Straight to the point. I like it,” Steve grabbed the remaining chair and moved closer to yours too. He sat down only to place his hand on your other thigh. “We need someone to take care of our paperwork for our more legal business.”

“We need someone we can trust. Steve and I are rather bored when doing office work. You on the other hand have a lot of experience,” Bucky toyed with the hem of your dress while telling you more about the position you always dreamed of.

“How do you know about my work experience?”

“Baby doll, we are enchanted by you. This doesn’t mean we let a wolf in sheep’s clothing inside the inner circle of our business.” Steve pressed a soft kiss to your neck, making you sigh. “If you want the job, it’s yours.”

Bucky mirrored his partner. He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, lips nipping at the soft skin. “Oh, and the best is. You can bang your bosses…”

Tags in reblog.

[notsosweetchan]

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Reader

WARNINGS: smut, sexual language

Minors do not interact

Hell week

ੈ✩‧₊˚Complete this task ੈ✩‧₊˚

Hyunjin, the new pledge at his fraternity, was barely surviving hell week. The older brothers had given him a list of tasks to complete and each one earned them points towards their initiation. He had managed to score well in some, but the last few days had been grueling. With only three days left, he was behind by half.

The final task staring back at him on the list read: "Sex with a virgin - 500 points." He groaned inwardly, knowing that it would be either this or punishment. He only knows one virgin his best friend Y/N he has known her since 5th grade but he has never thought of her like that, not till now.

Hyunjin gulped, feeling a knot forming in his stomach as he contemplated his options. He couldn't believe he was even considering this, let alone with Y/N. The memories of their countless sleepovers and innocent childhood games flooded his mind. But desperation clouded his judgment, and the thought of facing the humiliation and consequences of failing to complete the task loomed over him.

Hyunjin sighed heavily as he knocked on the door to Y/N's dorm room, his heart pounding in his chest. She opened it, looking at him curiously, her wide eyes taking in his nervous demeanor.

"Hey, Hyunjin! What's up?" She asked with a small smile on her lips.

He couldn't look at her face as he mumbled out the request. "I need your help with something... It's for my fraternity..." He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say the words out loud.

Y/N's smile faded, and she stepped back from the doorway, allowing him entry into her small space. "What do you need from me?" She asked warily, eyeing him suspiciously as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Hyunjin took a deep breath before turning to face her fully.

"I... I need you to help me complete a task. It's worth a lot of points, and if I don't...”

"...if I don't, I'll be out of the fraternity," Hyunjin blurted out, unable to meet Y/N's gaze any longer. Silence filled the room as his words hung heavily in the air. He could hear Y/N's breathing quicken, and he prayed she wouldn't freak out on him. This was his last resort, and he desperately needed her help.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N spoke up in a shaky voice, "What do you need me to do?"

Hyunjin exhaled a sigh of relief, but guilt immediately consumed him when he heard the hurt in her voice. He cleared his throat, "I-I need you to... I need you to have... sex with me."

Y/N froze, her face flushing red with shock and embarrassment. "You want me to... lose my virginity to you? Just like that?" she stammered, pointing at the floor between them.

Hyunjin looked at her for the first time since he had made his request and saw the pain in her beautiful brown eyes. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to put you in this position. But I have no other choice," he pleaded, his voice cracking.

Y/N averted her gaze, biting her bottom lip as she wrestled with her thoughts. "And if I say no?"

Hyunjin swallowed hard, preparing himself for the rejection he knew he deserved. "Then I'll understand and we’ll never speak of this ever again."

Y/N couldn’t believe this was happening. Her best friend since childhood was asking her to sleep with him to save his ass from humiliation and, worst of all, she was actually considering it.

Y/N met Hyunjin's desperate gaze, her heart aching at the desperation in his eyes. "Fine. I'll do it. But only because you're my friend and I trust you to take care of me ," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Hyunjin's eyes widened in disbelief and relief. "Are you sure, Y/N?" he asked, suddenly unsure if he could go through with it.

Y/N nodded, steeling herself for what was about to happen. "Just... don't make this any harder than it already is," she muttered, her cheeks flushed red with shame.

Hyunjin swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, unable to find the words to express his gratitude or even explain how sorry he was for putting her in this position.

He took her trembling hand in his and led her to her bed, Hyunjin had always has a small crush on Y/N but never thought he would be the reason her first time would be like this.

As they settled onto the bed together, Hyunjin's heart thudded in his chest while Y/N tried to push down the anxiety and fear bubbling up within her. The air around them was thick with the tension of their impending intimacy, making it hard for either of them to breathe normally.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm both his nerves and hers as he gently kissed her softly on the lips. His tongue slid into her mouth, seeking entrance as he began exploring her mouth with flicks and nibbles. His hands found their way underneath her shirt, tracing patterns on her bare skin as he deepened the kiss.

Y/N responded to his touch, moaning softly into his mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself closer against him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling gently as she surrendered to the heat building inside her from his touch. She shivered slightly at the feel of his warm breath against her skin, goosebumps rising along her arms in response. When he broke away from the kiss, she found herself whimpering softly in protest.

Hyunjin noticed her swollen lips and the desire in her eyes that mirrored his own. He couldn’t believe this was happening but vowed to make it as pleasurable as possible for her. With shaking hands, he undressed her, his gaze hungrily taking in the sight of her naked body underneath the layers of clothes.

Y/N blushed crimson as she let him undress her, unable to meet his eyes. She couldn't believe she was about to lose her virginity to her best friend – something she had always secretly fantasized about but never imagined would happen like this. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, trying to block out the reasons behind their actions and focus on the pleasure instead.

Hyunjin slid in between the sheets with her, his body tense with anticipation and guilt. He knew he should stop but couldn't bring himself to do it. Kissing his way down her body, he began to explore her pink folds, his tongue swirling and delving into her wet heat.

Y/N gasped, arching her back in pleasure as sensations she never knew existed coursed through her body. Her nails dug into the sheets as he continued his ministrations, her hips bucking against his face. He groaned, feeling her responding to him, knowing that she was close.

Y/N came apart with a loud moan, her body shaking uncontrollably as her first orgasm washed over her in waves. Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a small amount of pride well up inside him as he saw the pleasure on her face.

As she recovered from her climax, Hyunjin moved back up her trembling body, determined to make this as painless as possible for her. He positioned himself at her entrance, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y/N, I—"

"Please," she interrupted him, her eyes full of determination. "Just do it, I can't take it anymore."

Hyunjin nodded, kissing her softly one more time before he slowly pushed himself into her tight heat. Y/N groaned through gritted teeth, her nails digging into his biceps as he entered her fully. The intense sensation of her virginity being taken away caused stars to dance before his eyes, but he remained still, allowing her time to adjust to his girth.

After a few moments of adjustment, Y/N nodded, giving him the go-ahead to continue. Hyunjin started moving slowly, savoring every inch of her hot, wet heat. With each thrust, he felt her inner muscles clench around him, tightening her grip on his manhood.

Y/N could feel herself building up to another orgasm, her breath coming out in pants as Hyunjin picked up the pace. This time, she was more prepared for the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. Her nails raked down his back, urging him on as she met his thrusts with her own.

Hyunjin couldn't believe how incredible it felt to be buried deep inside his best friend, Y/N. She was tight, wet, and warm, enveloping him in a way that sent electric shocks through his body. He had fantasized about this moment countless times, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of it. The way she moaned beneath him, her nails digging into his back, was enough to make him lose control.

But he didn't want this to be over yet. He wanted to make her come again, to feel the way her body shook and trembled beneath him. He began to move slowly, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in, savoring the feeling of her body yielding to his. He could feel her clenching around him, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to lose it right then and there.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, his breath hot and heavy. "You feel so good, Y/N. I want to make you feel even better."

She moaned in response, and he took that as a sign to pick up the pace. He started to move faster, harder, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through his body. He could feel her getting closer, her breath coming in short gasps, her body tense and trembling.

He reached down between them, finding her clit with his fingers and rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles. She cried out, her body arching off the bed, and he knew she was close. He redoubled his efforts, thrusting deeper, harder, faster, until she finally came apart beneath him, her body wracked with convulsions as she cried out his name.

He let himself go then, burying himself deep inside her as he came with a roar, his body shaking with the force of it. They lay there for a moment, panting and spent, before he pulled out and rolled over onto his back.

He looked over at Y/N, who was lying on her side with her eyes closed. She looked beautiful, her skin flushed and glowing with sweat. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, "Y/N?" he whispered.

She opened her eyes, and he was met with a storm of emotions in their depths: fear, guilt, and, strangely enough, desire. "Yeah?" she breathed.

"That... that was..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say next.She gave him a weak smile. "I know."

They lay there in silence for a moment, the weight of what they just did settling between them like a lead blanket. Hyunjin knew that nothing would ever be the same between them after this, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy the moment.

Minors do not interact

[sansaorgana]

— THE FAVOURITE

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — As Feyd-Rautha's favourite concubine, your position is threatened after his affair with Lady Margot.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Once again I couldn't help myself and created some twisted & toxic dynamic between Feyd and The Reader full of mind games and scheming lol 😏 Thank you @little-diable for "letting me" to write this story. 🌹 I reached out to her after getting this request since she has a similar (and amazing) fanfic – "Guilt".

WARNINGS — Reader is some sort of a slave/servant, harm to Lady Margot and her child mentioned, mentions of sexual activities including non/dub-con (no actual smut)

WORD COUNT — 3,520

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE FAVOURITE

Being Feyd-Rautha’s favourite concubine made your position on Giedi Prime secure. Coming from nothing and having no drop of noble blood flowing in your veins, you ended up with a luxurious bedroom and your own team of servants. Baron Harkonnen allowed this arrangement only because of the little agreement between you and him – you were to spy on his nephew and your servants were doing the job when you personally could not. The stench of schemes and lies surrounded the fortress like a thick fog.

So, when your lover didn’t come to you after his own birthday party – even though you were waiting for him all dressed up and prepared – you wanted to know why. Your servants came back to you quickly, bringing you the news of Feyd-Rautha spending the night in a guest wing. In the bedroom of Lady Margot Fenring, to be exact. A known Bene Gesserit sister.

Concubines had no right to be jealous. They knew their place. Noblemen couldn’t marry a random woman they favoured just because of some sort of affection or sentiment. They had to keep their options open in case a political union would be proposed. And apart from that, noblemen had their responsibilities when it came to the Bene Gesserit order and their own plans and schemes. You knew enough to have a feeling what Lady Margot wanted from Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. To secure his bloodline.

Concubines didn’t exist to secure bloodlines – unless the circumstances were desperate. But usually, concubines existed to bear bastards.

You tore your dress off of your body, removed the jewellery and let it fall down on the cold, black marble as it shattered. The servants watched with terror in their eyes as tiny pieces of gemstones scattered all over the floor. You told them all to leave but they were petrified. So you yelled, you gave an order. And only when you were left alone, you allowed yourself to lay on your bed and cry.

You had sacrificed nearly everything to be in this position. Losing the title of Feyd-Rautha’s favourite concubine meant death to you. You knew what he was doing to the toys he was getting bored of. In fact, you often encouraged those acts. Now, you had to face a threat of becoming the next tossed aside pet.

You were finishing your breakfast when Feyd entered your chambers without a word or a knock upon the doors. He was the only person allowed such entrance and all your servants stiffened at the sight of him, bowing their heads and taking a few steps back. You decided to ignore him as you were sipping on your beverage and staring at the large painting on the wall in front of you. It was a landscape from your homeplanet. Or rather, how it had used to look like before The Harkonnen invasion and occupation.

As a little girl, you had been taken with others to Giedi Prime and forced to become a servant. Your hair had been shaved, the back of your neck tattooed with a Harkonnen sigil like you were a slave. Slaves died like flies on this court. Befriending the young na-baron had been your only chance of survival. And once you both had been old enough, the friendship developed into a romance. But sometimes, when you were forgetting yourself – too drunk on your own influence these days – you would touch the back of your neck and trace the tattooed mark. You had long hair again, covering it from the world. But you knew it was there. You were only a servant that had been promoted because of a spoiled boy’s whim.

“I have news for you, pet,” Feyd-Rautha stood above you with a proud smirk, showing off his black teeth.

You continued to ignore him and it made the smile turn into a frown.

“What is it?” He asked but you still refused to lay your eyes on him.

“I know where you were last night,” you finally decided to address the matter as you lazily leaned back on the chair and looked up at his face. He snorted at you.

“Not the first time I spent a night with another woman. Having a title of my favourite whore means that you are one of many – not the only one,” he reminded you and your jaw clenched at his choice of words.

“Not every night is your birthday. And not every woman is a Bene Gesserit witch,” you stood up angrily. “And I am not a whore.”

“Concubine is only a nicer way to put it but you’re big enough to handle the truth, pet,” Feyd was angered, you could sense that. But he was still amused by your little tantrum.

“Leave us,” you ordered to the servants and they bowed down before walking out of the chambers as fast as possible.

“What do you expect me to say? That I’m sorry?” Feyd’s voice was full of contempt as he observed your pacing around with squinted eyes. “I am not tied to you by any word nor oath.”

“What did she want?” You asked him and he shut his mouth. “She wanted to secure the bloodline, did she not?”

Feyd did not say anything and that was an answer for you. You nodded and walked away to stand by the window and gaze upon the cityscape of Giedi Prime. 

“I didn’t have a choice. And I probably will never even see that child. They mean nothing to me and will never be recognised as my heir. What does it matter to you?” Feyd tried to explain himself awkwardly as he sat by the table and put his feet up on the surface in a careless manner.

“Did she use The Voice on you?” You turned around to look at him with a furrowed brow.

“Yes,” Feyd nodded, looking away. “Does it change anything?”

“It changes everything to me,” you approached him to stand behind and put your hands on his tense shoulders. “They keep using you. Your uncle all this time, now her. And you just shake it off and pretend it’s no big deal but it is, Feyd-Rautha. Have you ever been able to make your own decision? Even choosing me as your favourite had to be accepted by The Baron.”

“Don’t pretend to suddenly care about me,” Feyd barked at you. “You’re spying on me for him.”

“Because I have to,” you whispered.

“And I have to do some things, too, which makes us fair,” he shrugged his arms and you let your hands fall to your sides again. You watched him reach for an orange as he began to peel it slowly in silence.

He was right but it was not enough for you to know that he was right. You were still raging inside; filled with jealousy and betrayal even though you had no right to feel these things. Swiftly, you reached out for a short knife that Feyd always carried by his waist. He was so relaxed and trustful around you that his reflexes didn’t catch on your actions. 

You pressed the tip of the blade to the back of his neck, the exact same spot where your tattoo was.

“I wish I could mark you as my own, too,” you whispered and he only chuckled, not fearing the knife at all.

“Do it then, pet. If that brings you relief, that is,” he dared you. “The pain will be welcomed.”

“I can’t do it,” your hand shivered as you lowered it.

“Then don’t threaten me with empty promises,” Feyd barked as he turned around rapidly and grabbed your wrist. He twisted it painfully, making you drop the knife as you hissed out of pain. “I don’t belong to you,” he reminded, his voice cold and sharp. You winced at the pain shooting up your arm but refused to show weakness.

“And I don't belong to you either,” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and hurt you had been suppressing. “If I am to live here my whole life like a slave, kill me then.”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at each other with hatred and passion as the tension crackled between you two like electricity. Finally, Feyd released your wrist with a dismissive shove, his expression hardening into a mask of indifference.

"Fine," he spat. "I am to inherit Arrakis and you are not coming with me. Stay here and rot, find yourself a new Master or leave, I do not care," he informed you and left your chambers just like that.

You were still standing there, petrified, as you blinked a few times before the meaning of his words made sense to you. He was abandoning you… but you couldn’t blame him. You showed weakness of your jealousy and that was something concubines were not supposed to do. Instead of playing your cards right, you snapped. And now there was no turning back from that mistake.

Your privileges were not gone overnight but everyone could see that something was wrong. While Feyd-Rautha was preparing to leave for Arrakis, you were not preparing at all. Your servants were nervous since their position depended on your own. And you were trying to work on a plan to be back in your lover’s good favours.

But The Baron was quicker than that. He requested your presence a few days before his nephew’s departure. You expected a punishment but, surprisingly, he was not as angry as you thought him to be.

“You lost the grip,” he informed you in his raspy voice, taking a puff of his pipe.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” you bowed down, nervously; humiliated.

“I should get rid of you. I’ve heard my nephew granted you freedom but we both know you have nowhere to go anyway,” The Baron pointed out and you swallowed thickly at his words.

“If I was only given one more chance…” You dared to look up.

“That is what I want to grant you,” he nodded as your eyes widened. Baron Harkonnen was not known for being generous or forgiving. “You see, on Arrakis I will need a spy next to Feyd-Rautha. Someone I trust. And you… We’ve worked for quite a long time now. You have never disappointed me nor showed any sign of disloyalty towards me. Looking for someone new, especially for such an important task… It would not be advised. I need you on Arrakis with Feyd-Rautha,” The Baron pointed his chubby hand at you.

“I understand, my Lord. But… He does not want me there. Not as his concubine at least,” you looked down, ashamed that you had to admit it out loud.

“That boy will soon start missing you. But we can’t wait until then,” The Baron agreed. “Since he has carelessly given you freedom already and you’re no longer a servant, I can promote you, child,” The Baron hummed to himself as you tilted your head out of curiosity – Feyd-Rautha’s habit you had picked up from him a long time ago.

Because your whole life had been about being his companion. It was about mimicking his behaviour and learning how to make him happy. Now, when he was somehow gone from your daily life routine, it felt oddly empty and pointless. It was painful to realise that Feyd-Rautha was your reason to live and your position as his concubine defined not only your position on Giedi Prime but also your whole life and personality.

“You will be sent to Arrakis as The Fremen Expert,” The Baron informed you and you couldn’t help letting out a little laugh.

“The Fremen Expert, my Lord? I do know nothing of them and their customs,” you reminded him.

“And we do not care about them nor their customs. We want nothing but annihilation of their race. But what we also want… What we need… Is your presence on Arrakis. Feyd-Rautha will be informed that you must take part in every council, in every meeting; making decisions alongside his generals,” The Baron whispered and you straightened yourself, suddenly feeling a bolt of electricity going through your veins. From feeling like a beaten dog, you began to feel confidence and pride in your new role, even if the title was made up for The Baron’s scheming plan.

“Yes, my Lord,” you bowed down with all respect.

“Now, go, prepare yourself for the trip,” he dismissed you and you turned around to walk away with your head held high.

Feyd-Rautha kept avoiding you but those few times you saw him in the corridor, he was giving you hateful looks. He had to be not very pleased with his uncle’s decision. You gained the courage to finally talk to him in private when you were on the ship to Arrakis, locked together in space with nowhere to run. Forced to spend time together since the ship was not as huge as the Giedi Prime fortress.

You chose the nighttime for this. In the evenings he was more vulnerable – you had learnt that over the years spent by his side. You entered his room on the ship without any guard stopping you as they knew your role in this mission. The Baron had given them direct orders to never stop you when you were about to spy on the na-baron.

Feyd was not in the room yet, so you waited, sitting on the armchair and nervously playing with the rings on your fingers.

“What are you doing here?” You finally heard his raspy voice after the doors opened. Feyd walked inside, visibly irritated at the sight of you. “Congratulations, you’re a full-time spy now. What a promotion,” he sneered. “Still his puppet.”

“And you’re not? His puppet?” You sneered back. “How does it feel to not be able to get rid of your own concubine just because The Baron does not approve? I told you. You can’t even choose the whores for yourselves,” you stood up to approach him but he walked away.

“You’ve sealed your fate, pet. Once I become The Baron myself, I am going to kill you,” he ignored your presence and began undressing to change into his nighttime attire. As if you were only an air in the room but it also meant that he still felt comfortable around you and allowed himself to be vulnerable enough to step out of his armour and expose. He trusted you, still.

“It’s not like I’m that valuable to your uncle. If you killed me now, he would be frustrated. But he wouldn’t even punish you for that,” you shrugged your arms. “So why won’t you kill me now?” You teased as you raised your eyebrow at him.

“Come here,” Feyd ordered as he sat on the edge of his bed. 

You walked up to him, a little scared of what was inside his head at that moment but you tried not to show it. You had mastered the act of not showing fear around him already. He hated cowardice and vulnerability only inspired him to be even more cruel.

“Since I can’t get rid of you, there’s still use of you, is it not?” He smirked as he looked up at you. “Please me, pet,” he ordered.

“I am no longer your concubine,” you pointed out, trying to keep a poker face on and a straight back. The truth was, you missed him. You missed his touch, you missed the intimacy, you missed how safe you felt with his arms around you. You missed the nights when he would fall asleep in your bed. But you couldn’t fall back so easily. He liked to chase, he liked to play. And you had gotten the title of his favourite because you knew how to provide it. “You dismissed me. I am The Fremen Expert now,” you added and he laughed contemptuously.

“The Fremen Expert, and what is that exactly, my little one?” He teased, pulling you closer by your waist. “And what do you know of these savages? You’ve been trained in different arts.”

“What sort of arts, na-baron?” You asked, placing your fingers on his muscular shoulders to keep steady on your feet.

“Pleasure,” he sat you down on his lap and you joined your hands together behind his neck. “I missed your cunt,” he whispered into your ear, his fingers pulled on the fabric of your dress around your hips, exposing your thighs.

“You forget yourself, my Lord,” you teased with a smirk as he looked up, questioningly. “You see, in your anger, you set me free. You released me and I am no longer your servant. I am my own person now,” you reminded him.

“I am still your lord na-baron,” he reminded you. “And I shall do as I please with you.”

“But having me back in your bed will cost you. I am not free of charge anymore,” you stopped his hands and watched his expression carefully. His jaw clenched and his gaze hardened with anger and curiosity.

“What do you want?” He asked harshly.

“Depends on how much you are willing to pay to feel my sweet cunt again,” you tilted your head.

You knew that it was just a game and he knew it, too. Because he didn’t need your permission. Feyd-Rautha didn’t care if you were his servant or a free woman now. He didn’t care if you gave him your permission or not. He was free to take what he wanted. Because that was his nature and that was the harsh reality of The Harkonnens.

“You want money?” Feyd could not hide the sheer disappointment in his voice. He had thought better of you. But you only laughed at his accusation.

You needed to take a deep breath in to say out loud what you wanted. It required lots of bravery for a woman in your position to say.

“I want to bear your heir,” you told him.

“Impossible,” Feyd pushed you aside on the mattress as he moved away from you. “Is it part of his plan?”

“He doesn’t know. He would kill me if he knew,” you assured him, truthfully. “He wants you for Princess Irulan, I think.”

“He mentioned to me he would make me an Emperor. But he didn’t mention how. I don’t think I have to marry her. We are strong enough to just take the throne with force,” Feyd told you. “I don't want her. But you cannot bear me heirs. Only bastards. Is that what you want? To push out my bastards?” He asked as he hovered over you to intimidate you, looking intensely into your eyes.

“Bastards, then. Let it be,” you nodded, swallowing thickly, confusing him. “I’d rather give you bastards and live on crumbs than to be dismissed like in the past few weeks.”

Suddenly, his face softened, confusing you as much as you were confusing him. Feyd caressed your cheek with gentleness that was unusual for him.

“Do you know why you are my favourite?” He asked in a whisper.

“Because I know how to play the way you like it,” you answered.

“No,” he shook his head. “Because you actually like me.”

You didn’t know what to say to this confession. It caught you off guard, surely. And Feyd leaning in to place a kiss upon your lips – a soft, delicate kiss that you had only shared a few times before – that only intensified the feeling of confusion.

“It’s cute to see you jealous, pet,” he breathed out after breaking the unusual kiss. “I swore to myself a long time ago I would never marry even if he forced me to. And my only heirs will be the bastards you bear me.”

You felt warmth in your cheeks at his words. Realising that what you had been asking for did not have to be said out loud. For him it had been obvious for a long time. It was the only way for Feyd-Rautha and you were a fool to ever feel jealous.

“All you have to do,” he added in a mysterious whisper, leaning in to steal another kiss, “is to help me with bringing him down.”

“You fool,” you giggled and cupped his face delicately, confusing him. “It has always been my plan,” you assured him. “And once I have the power of The Emperor’s Concubine, I will hunt down the Bene Gesserit witch and her spawn for I am the only one who shall bear your bastards.”

“You were such an innocent child when you came to Giedi Prime,” Feyd sighed but not without an excited sparkle in his cold eyes. “And look what a monster I have made of you, pet.”

You chuckled at that, relieved to have him back and much more than that – already planning out a future that was even more promising than in your most secret daydreams.

“You taught me well, Master,” you only said and pulled him back down. “But next time you put a child in another woman, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to father any more,” you threatened sweetly before a passionate kiss.

MASTERLIST

[shhhsecretsideblog]

No Time To Hide

This was something I wrote for an Imagine You’re Pregnant prompt, original post here. Thought I’d make a side blog and post it here as well cos I really enjoyed writing this and might be tempted to write more birth fics

Eva opened the wooden window of her small cottage, letting the cool autumn air whip through her hair. The smell of woodland and damp grass filled her nostrils as she took a long, calming breath.

Describing herself as a green witch, Eva loved her little cottage hidden away from everyone deep within the rich forest. Coven life was never something that appealed to her; the idea of being constantly surrounded by other witches, their opinions and their magic, was torture for Eva. She much preferred her own company, free to live her life the way she wanted. Free to use her own style of magic, without the distraction or judgement of others. It was why she decided to live here in the heart of the forest. There was a river that flowed through the centre of the woodland, the ancient trees stood tall around her home, and the forest floor was packed with all manner of plant life. It was perfect; just her, the elements and Mother Nature.

Despite her preference of living alone, as time passed Eva began to yearn for something… it wasn’t romance or friendship, but the idea of a child. Children were never something she had considered, but as she grew older Eva had begun to see the benefit of having children. Someone to pass all her knowledge and wisdom to, someone to love and care for and share all that she’d learnt. She wanted to pass on this way of living, to create a legacy.

A few months ago, nine to be exact, she enchanted a local townsman - not that he would ever remember it. And now here she was, rocking side to side and cradling the underneath of her heavily pregnant stomach, preparing herself as birth drew near.

The cramps had started yesterday afternoon, small and barely noticeable at first. Eva had been terribly uncomfortable these last few weeks, suffering constant aches and twinges, so she did not immediately give them any thought. However when they got sharper and more frequent, forcing her to pause whatever she was doing, they soon got her full attention.

Not knowing how long this could take but knowing she would eventually lose mobily as her labour progressed, she collected all her preparations and got the supplies ready. Blankets, towels, sterilised medical equipment, all within easy reach in the main living room. Snacks and drinks lay available on the coffee table and a pot of hot water sat by the open fire keeping a constant warm temperature.

“Mmmnnngghhhhh” Eva moaned deeply as the latest wave peaked. She leaned forward resting her elbows on the window sill, jutting her hips back and swaying them slightly. The baby was low and heavy in her pelvis, the head pressing downwards as her body slowly opened up.

When the latest pain had eased Eva straightened and looked down at her swollen stomach, speaking lovingly towards her unborn babe. “You’re really coming aren’t you little one? I’ve not done this before so please take it easy on me.” Her child responded with a gentle kick prompting the witch to smile.

Over the next few hours Eva got into a good rhythm riding out the contractions, each one hitting sooner than the last and with incrementally more vigour. She paced, rocked, squatted, kneeled, trying to find any comfortable position to ride out the waves. Her low and heavy stomach made moving from position to position cumbersome; one hand staying on her bump or her lower back at any given time, while the other kept her supported on whatever furniture or surface was nearby.

As the contractions ramped up, creeping steadily towards unbearable, the witch’s teeth clenched tight and she growled behind them. Three minutes apart. Holding on to the back of her armchair Eva lowered herself into a deep squat. Sweat covered every inch of her body, her thin linen dress and underwear clinging to every curve of her fertile frame.

Her hips were in agony, the pressure building. She opened her mouth to wail but no sound came out, shocked into silence by a sudden burst between her open thighs. Immediately the pressure eased and Eva could catch her breath again. The wooden floor below her feet was soaked; her waters had broken.

“Oooooooh okay- We’re getting so close- Are you ready to come out now baby? I cannot wait to meet you.”

Eva stood up, cradling the curve of her spasming bump. Her bare feet stepped ungainly out of the puddle on the floor and she quickly threw a tea towel down to soak up the worst of it.

“It’s just you and me, little one. We can do this.” Eva reassured herself, rubbing circles around her swell, preparing for the intensity to soar now her waters had gone.

However, before the next contraction could strike the witch startled at the sudden loud interruption of ringing bells. Rapid and urgent, the piercing chimes echoed all around her cottage, howling through every room.

Witch hunter!

The enchantments set up around her hidden home in the forest hadn’t gone off in decades - she had almost forgotten the wards were still in place. And yet the incessant ringing immediately chilled her to her very bones, suddenly haunting her with long forgotten memories of the brutal murders of her fellow witches.

Her stomach clenched with a new, different sensation - fear. At any other time Eva would arm herself with weapons and potions and storm outside on the offence, making sure to take down her enemy before he had the opportunity to strike. But now… the pressing weight in her hips and the constant aching of her contracting womb showed she was in no position to attack, or even defend herself, if put up against a murderous witch hunter.

She had to get out of here. The warning bells throughout her home would soon reach the ears of the witch hunter and then he would beeline straight to her hidden sanctuary. She needed to find somewhere else to hide.

Distracted by the chimes, Eva was unprepared for the next contraction when it ripped across her body, rooting her to the spot. She doubled over in pain, palms planted firmly on her thighs.

“Unnnhhhhhhhhhhhh no-no-no-no……” she whimpered through strained breaths as the pain skyrocketed and her belly hardened. Panting heavily the witch ignored growing desire to bear down. Her waters had broken, she was probably almost fully dilated, if not already. But she couldn’t stay here. If she stayed, both her and her child would certainly be killed. She had to leave and find somewhere safe to deliver this baby.

After what felt like an eternity, the contraction finally faded and she bolted straight out the back door of her cottage, leaving barefoot with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had wasted precious minutes since the warning alarm riding out that last pain - she couldn’t afford to waste any more time gathering supplies to take with her. Eva took off as quickly as she could, disappearing deep into the lush green forest.

She barely got out of sight behind the first set of oak trees before another contraction was already upon her. Two minutes apart. Leaning against the rough bark of the nearest tree, Eva squeezed her eyes shut and tried hard to swallow the whimper creeping out her throat. The unbearable pressure was demanding in its silent request and her knees trembled with the effort of ignoring it. The baby was so heavy, and dangerously low. Feeling like it would just fall out if she took a step too wide. Yet she remained strong, persevering and weathering the storm in her uterus, determined to keep this baby inside of her until she got somewhere safe.

The second the pain let up an inch the witch was on the move again running as fast as she could across the forest floor. Over ferns and moss, rocks and fallen branches, thankfully the hardened soles of her bare feet were used to the uneven terrain. She made sure to keep off the main footpath and stayed hidden within the dense trees, but it made for more of an obstacle course than she’d like. With added weight of her labouring belly she couldn’t move at speed and on a few occasions nearly lost her balance. But deeper and deeper into the forest she went.

The trees became her allies, providing cover and support when she was forced to stop with each new powerful contraction… 90 seconds apart... 60 seconds apart. A large, ancient willow tree with an unusually curved trunk was the latest comrade in her fight for survival. Eva had pitched herself within the alcove of the trunk, out of sight and leaning back against the bark, lifting the weight of her hardened stomach with both hands. The long hanging branches brushed the forest floor in a circle around her position, hiding the witch behind a nature-made curtain.

“Grnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Eva could no longer hold in the animalistic sounds of her extremely advanced labour. The baby was right there, nestled deep in her widened cervix, desperate to be born.

“Nooooooooo-please-baby-wait-a-bit-moreeeeeee-” she begged through gritted teeth. The next contraction started before the current had even finished and the need to push was too powerful to refrain. Knees bending and thighs widening, Eva’s body pushed of its own accord.

It felt right, pushing. It was what she was meant to be doing - to follow nature's primal instinct. And yet she couldn’t forget the very real threat of the witch hunter, still hidden somewhere in this forest, poised and primed to kill her.

The fierce contraction continued to hold her hostage. A long grunt escaped her mouth as her body pushed along with the pain.

“I can hear you, witch!” A gravelled voice taunted from across the thick forest.

Eva’s eyes widened and immediately clamped her mouth shut, biting her lips together drawing blood. Half squatting against the tree, every muscle in her body continued to strain as it forced the baby lower and lower and lower. She couldn’t stop pushing even if she tried. One of the hands cradling her stomach shakily ventured south, lifting up her dress and feeling between her legs. Through the thin damp fabric of her underwear she could feel the baby’s head begin to enter the world.

She panted silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The forest stretched out for miles, completely uninhabited in all directions; she was all alone. There was nowhere to go and no one to help. Heavily pregnant, being hunted, and seconds away from birthing this child.

A loud snap of wood echoed from a few metres away. Eva suddenly bolted like a startled deer, consumed entirely by fear and survival, and disappeared again into the thickened wood. She ran, wide legged, the heavy boulder of a baby’s head deep in her pelvis screaming to be born. Push! Her body cried out. Stop running and PUSH!

But she couldn’t. If she stopped she’d be dead.

Another contraction ripped through her as she ran. 30 seconds apart. Her muscles tensed and squeezed as she ran, her body trying to force the baby out despite the mother’s desire to hold on a bit longer. She could barely stay upright, the raw adrenaline no longer enough to keep this birth at bay. Her legs became jelly, all she could feel was pain and pressure and fear. Eva faltered, she couldn’t go any further. Out in the open she planted her hands against the nearest tree, widening her stance, and pushed. Hard.

“Mnnnnnnnrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!!!”

More of her baby’s head began to appear behind the fabric of her tight underwear.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh-Hecateeeeeeeeeeee!” she whimpered, praying to the deity.

Her baby was close to fully crowning, she could feel it. The white hot agony of being widened and stretched beyond anything she imagined made her eyes water and throat nauseous. She retched, a dry heave, and desperately tried to catch a breath through the dual need to push and the sudden urge to vomit. The texture of the rough bark beneath her palms was the only thing keeping the witch semi-grounded and preventing her getting swept away in the overwhelming sensations currently tearing her body apart. Still bracing the tree, Eva’s head dipped as she took slow deep breaths, ignoring the instinct to push in order to ride out the sudden nausea.

An ominous whistling sound drifted through the trees carried on the wind. Eva could barely hear it over the thundering beating of her heart, that is until she heard:

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The voice sang.

The witch hunter was close. But so was her baby... Eva felt between her legs again to evaluate just how bad her situation was. It was bad. Her underwear was stretched beyond repair as it housed a significant portion of her baby’s head, filling her cupped palm. Ignoring all the pain and her body’s pleas to push, she panted heavily and tried to think! She needed a plan to survive.

The witch hunter had physical strength, yes, but he did not know these woods like Eva did. This was her home, her sanctuary, and she knew every inch like the back of her hand. Beyond her laboured breaths and the unnerving whistling of the approaching witch hunter, Eva registered another sound nearby - the swooshing sound of running water. The river - she was by the river!

Lifting her head the witch frantically scanned the surrounding area, getting her bearings of where she’d ended up within the woodland. She was a few hundred yards from the river’s edge, about a mile from her cottage. It wasn’t an area she often visited because of…. That’s it! Okay, it wasn’t a great plan, and there was no way to know if it would work, but it was her only shot of survival.

She took a steadying breath through the current contraction squeezing her womb, fighting once more against the primal need to push. The baby’s head filled her underwear, millimetres from a full crown. If she pushed again there was no way she’d be able to stop until the head was fully born.

Whimpering through the pain Eva stood up straight, one hand staying between her legs, and she prepared herself to move. Just get to the river. She told herself before making her way unsteadily east.

The sound of rushing water grew louder as she stumbled slowly through the forest. One step. Another step. Nearly there. She knew exactly where to go, and where to avoid, desperately trying to stay focussed on her surroundings and not succumb to the agonising pain crowning between her thighs. Keep going.

“You can’t escape me, witch!” The voice threatened, getting closer.

Eva stumbled into the side of a tree, her bare shoulder scraping against the bark. Pausing, she took a brief moment to breathe through the pain. It was a mistake. The second she stopped to inhale deeply her body started bearing down again, forcing the baby down. Immediately the head came to a full crown in her damp underwear and she screamed.

“WITCH!” The murderous voice roared.

Eva turned and saw a flash of black leather through the distant trees, and it was coming her way. Cupping the baby’s head she tentatively wobbled forwards, knees trembling, staggering towards the riverbank. The blinding pain was constant, her eyes barely focussing. She had to make it to the exact right spot or her plan would certainly fail. Her footsteps were shaky but determined as she continued the last few carefully placed steps in her journey. Behind her the crunching sound of a disturbed forest floor drew ever closer.

Reaching the river’s edge Eva collapsed against the large boulder that sat on the grassy bank. She made it. Turning around against the stone, the cold granite pressed against her back as she faced the woods and waited for the imminent arrival of the witch hunter. But the baby’s head inched lower, her body stretched to its absolute limit. She wanted to cry, to howl, to scream. Instead she focussed inward, drawing on all the power from the earth under her feet, and taking a deep breath she finally, and intentionally, followed her body’s demands. Teeth gritted, a growl behind them, she pushed with everything she had. Her whole body trembled, bearing down against the pressure of the large round head slowly appearing between her thighs. The ears… a nose… she could feel it all. Her hands frantically scrambled under her dress and within seconds the baby’s head popped out into her underwear and she cupped it quickly within her palm. The relief was instant and for a brief moment Eva’s heart calmed as she held her child’s newly born crown.

The witch’s reprieve was short-lived as the approaching footsteps from behind one of the nearby trees resulted in another person soon entering the river's edge. The witch hunter was dark haired, full beard, but was not as athletic as Eva was expecting. There was sweat glistening on his temple and dripping down his neck, disappearing beneath a thick leather jacket. His mouth practically drooled at the sight of her and he gripped the long hunting knife in his hand. The lust for her death was haunting.

“At last… you’ve given it a good go, I’ll give you that, but you cannot escape your fate.” The man said as he took a step towards her, threateningly swishing the knife in readiness. “You are an abomination, evil incarnate. Witchcraft has no place here. My family has been taking your lot out for centuries. And it looks like I get the honour of not only killing you… but the next generation as well.” He glared at her pregnant swell.

“No- no! This- this child is innocent…” Eva panted, still holding the head of her half-born babe hidden under the draped fabric of her dress.

The witch hunter scoffed and took another two ominous steps in her direction through the fallen autumn leaves. Eva watched each step with a laser focus.

“No descendant of a witch is truly innocent.” He drawled, tilting his head with an unnerving animalistic incline. “Wickedness will run through its veins, there is no saving its soul.”

Eva couldn’t take her eyes off his feet, watching every step he took. She chose this location for a reason, knowing she needed to end up exactly here by the rivers edge - dangerously using herself as bait. His heavy boots crunched through the orange leaves, sauntering slowly towards her like he was toying with his prey. So close. Her heart stopped, breath held as Eva prayed to all the Goddesses for her plan to work. Then whoosh!

The witch hunter was suddenly hoisted in the air by his foot, caught in a primitive trap laid here many years ago by the previous inhabitants of these woods, whom were long dead and forgotten. The man roared as he was pulled sharply towards the sky, his arms flailing, the hunting knife falling from his hand in his shock.

Eva exhaled heavily and closed her eyes in pure relief. The steady thumping of heart pulsed around her body, beating once more now the immediate threat disappeared. The man yelled and shouted at her as he hung limply from the tree, but the sound barely registered with the witch. Her senses had been overtaken by the sudden movement of the baby, turning inside her, and an all too familiar urgent weight pressing down signalling her work was not yet over.

Eva tried to move but she was too far gone, too deep in labour, every muscle seemingly locked in position. “Unhhhhhhhh Hecate….. mnnnggghhhhh the baby- the baby is comingg…..” she whimpered, the pain splitting her in half as she was stretched once more with the baby’s shoulders. All her bodyweight was pressed back against the boulder, and she managed to sink towards the ground. Squatting deeply, her large rounded stomach rested heavily between her thighs.

“Ohhhh it’s coming…. I- need… mnghhhhhhhh I’ve got to… got to pushh...”

She ripped off her underwear as the next contraction started, freeing the baby’s head from the confines of the damp linen. With both hands ready to catch, the witch pushed with renewed determination. “Urghhhhhhhhhhhh!” One shoulder was out! Then the next shoulder. She took a breath, panting, holding the child dangling from her body. Eva became suddenly hyper-aware of the breeze and leaves, the nearby river and the crisp autumn air, all the elements surrounding them which her child was now being born directly into. Trembling, she beared down fiercely once more and within another few minutes a newly born witch entered the world.

Eva sobbed with relief, quickly pulling her daughter up over her stomach and placing her against her chest. The infant made a soft gurgling sound, her first breath, and then started to cry. To a new mother it was the most beautiful and reassuring sound in the world.

“Disgusting…. Filthy little vermin.” The witch hunter sneered with venom.

Eva had forgotten her audience and looked up with hatred at the man still swinging upside down from the tree. She held her baby tight and secure against her skin, as if shielding the child from the mere sight of him.

“You should drown that thing in the river.” He spat.

Red, blinding fury overwhelmed the new mother. With the pain gone and her baby safe in arms, pure fury raced through every pore of the witch’s body, consuming every atom of her being. Rising slowly, babe still clutched in hand, Eva approached the hanging man with eyes glowing with revenge.

“When I get free, I'm gonna enjoy splitting you from ear to ear!” He roared.

Her head tilted in observation watching the man’s disgusting arrogance in his determination to kill her despite still struggling against the rope binding his leg. Apparently unaware his threats were idle and his attempts to escape the trap were futile.

The witch bent down carefully to pick up the large silver blade that had fallen amongst the browning leaves. The man didn’t see the new mother pick up his weapon, and didn't notice the switch when the hunted became the hunter. Eva stalked silently, murderously towards the hanging man.

Before he could open his mouth to mock or belittle or challenge her, Eva’s hand swished past his vision in a flash, the blade gliding through the witch hunter's throat like a knife through butter. The man’s eyes widened, taking a heartbeat to register what just happened, before the cascade of blood erupted from the open wound and he began to choke and splutter.

Eva dropped the knife.

Delicately readjusting and shhhing the newborn cradled in her arm, she took one final look and started their journey back to the cottage. Eva found comfort in the sounds of the forest; of the flowing river, the whistle of a breeze, and the drip drip dripping of her enemies blood now pooling onto the forest floor.

[nahoney22]

Now or Never***

Hunter X F!Reader

word count: 2.5k

When Hunter spontaneously kisses you before he goes camping with the others whilst you look after the ship, your mind is set aflame. Both of you think about it and it's either now or never to see if there is a spark there.

warnings: warnings: Not exactly NSFW but is very steamy so 17+ only please. Spontaneous and accidental kiss, making out, brief breast touching, touchy touchy, non established relationship, female reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers, first kiss, one curse word.

authors note: a request for my lovely friend 🤍

"Have you made sure you've packed your canteen, sleeping bag, and comm device?" You stood observing Omega meticulously arranging her belongings in preparation for a camping excursion with her brothers, ensuring she's equipped for the night ahead.

The idea was originally proposed by Wrecker, who eagerly suggested taking Omega on a camping adventure in the wilderness, a proposition unanimously agreed upon by the others—except for you. Camping wasn't exactly your preferred activity.

"Yes, yes, and yes again," Omega confirms, playfully rolling her eyes before turning to you with a smile. "You're worse than Hunter AND Crosshair combined."

You chuckle and kneel down to Omega's level. "I'm not that bad," you tease, tousling her hair affectionately before rising to your feet. "But do be cautious, alright? Don't go picking berries unless you're certain about them."

"I'm not about to repeat Wrecker's mistake," Omega giggles, both of you sharing a fond memory of the time his hunger led him to accidentally consume toxic berries, resulting in a nasty rash.

"Are you absolutely certain you can't be persuaded to join us?" Hunter speaks and as you turn to him, you watch as he adjusts his backpack in readiness for the night ahead.

"I'll be fine. Besides, someone needs to stay behind to look after Gonky and the ship," you reply, giving the droid a reassuring pat as it waddles past. "I'll also tidy up around here. I wanna make sure it's neat and tidy for when you return."

A warm smile spreads across Hunter's face as he looks at you, a gesture that has become increasingly frequent lately. "Well, if you insist. Feel free to contact me if you require assistance."

'Me'? Not 'us'?’ you silently ponder, feeling a slight warmth tint your cheeks. "And the same goes for you. Stay safe out there and don't wander off."

"Can we get going before we lose light?" Crosshair interjects with a snarl, positioning himself between you and Hunter with an almost knowing look, as if he's aware of your burgeoning feelings for a particular Sergeant.

Hunter clears his throat, shooting a warning glare at his brother, who momentarily smirks before disembarking the ship, followed by the others. However, Hunter lingers back for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"Why the sudden protectiveness?" You raise a brow, accompanied by a smirk, though you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest.

"Just making sure," he reassures, offering another soft smile. "The others seem excited. It's been a while since we've done something like this."

Your heart swells at the sight of him finding peace, even if just for a moment. No empire, no war—just rest. "Well, stop lingering and get going before you lose the others," you prompt, playfully nudging his side with your arm, your touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

"Alright, alright. I'll see you tomorrow," he responds, but as he turns to leave, a brief moment of unexpected stillness descends. Without warning, Hunter reaches out and holds your waist, pulling you gently toward him, and kisses you.

You don’t even have time to react because he pulls back abruptly, eyes wide with shock, and you find yourself mirroring his astonishment.

He quickly releases you, running a clammy hand over the back of his neck. "I... I don't know why I did that."

"O-okay," you breathe shakily, trying to steady your racing heart as you nervously fiddle with your fingers, your mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy.

"Sorry, I..." he trails off, meeting your gaze once more, his expression a mix of anxiousness and apology.

You gaze back at him, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heart almost deafening in the silence between you. "No, it's okay," you manage to exhale shakily, taking a small step back, needing the space to collect your thoughts. "Y-you should really get going."

He nods in understanding, but you can't shake the feeling of uncertainty clouding his expression. Better yet, you’re certain he takes a longing gaze at your lips before snapping out of his trance. "Yeah. Alright. Are… Stars, are we okay?” He asks, a little exasperated. “I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"Go, Hunter," you say just above a whisper, a mixture of confusion and longing tugging at your emotions. "I'll still be here when you get back." Your smile feels forced, genuine bewilderment at how to navigate the spiral of emotions inside you. It all feels like a dream, yet you're not entirely sure if you want to wake up. Or perhaps you do?

Hunter gives you one last lingering look before he turns and leaves, leaving you alone with your tangled thoughts.

Watching him go, you can't help but dread the inevitable awkwardness that awaits you in the morning.

Hours had slipped by since the departure of the others, and you had kept yourself occupied as best as possible, channeling your energy into cleaning the Marauder. Discarded bolts, half-eaten ration bars, and an array of dust and weapon gear cluttered the interior, making it a challenge to find even a patch of floor. Wiping your brow, you stand back to admire your handiwork, but now what?

"What do you think, Gonky? Nice and clean?"

GONK.

"Yeah, I know," you sigh, sinking into the pilot's seat and propping your legs up on the control dash as you gaze out at the night sky. But try as you might to divert your thoughts, they stubbornly refuse to stray far from the unexpected encounter with Hunter.

There's a lingering tingle on your lips, prompting you to idly lick them as you recall the sensation of his kiss. Your stomach flutters, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration. "It's just a crush... just a crush."

At least, that's what it had started as. Sure, you had found Hunter attractive from the moment you joined the team, but it had been nothing more than a passing admiration. Yet, as the months passed and you grew closer to him, undeniable feelings—on your part, at least—had begun to emerge.

So, the question lingered: why had he kissed you? Was it merely a spontaneous impulse, or was there something more to it? Of course, you couldn't help but hope for the latter, but his immediate apology had left you questioning his intentions.

Suddenly, a rhythmic beeping emanates from one sector of the control panel, jolting you into alertness. You sit forward, inspecting the display, and your blood turns cold as you spot a heat signature approaching. Rising to your feet, you arm yourself and position yourself at the gangplank, ready for whatever may come.

But your fears begin to dissipate as you discern the familiar colours of clone armor in the distance. "Hunter? What are you doing back? Are the others alright?" you call out, relief flooding your voice as you watch him approach.

"Everything's alright, don't worry," Hunter reassures you, his chuckle softening the panic in your voice, though it leaves you feeling more puzzled than reassured.

"What are you doing back then?" you ask, your stomach fluttering once more as he takes a step closer.

"I came to see you," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that sends a shiver down your spine. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. It was driving me mad."

You swallow hard, feeling the nervous flutter in your stomach as your hands instinctively tuck behind your back. "Oh, Hunter, I told you I'd be fine," you manage to say, though your voice betrays a hint of uncertainty.

"I'm not referring to that," he replies quickly, closing the distance between you with each deliberate step. Your heart races, anticipation and apprehension mingling in equal measure as you realise the true reason for his return. "Your heart's beating so fast for me," he murmurs, his voice a quiet rasp that sends a shiver down your spine.

With each step bringing him closer, the tension between you becomes palpable, and you can feel the electricity crackling in the air.

"Hunter..." you begin, taking a step back to welcome him onto the ship, but your voice trails off as he enters and seals the door to the Marauder shut behind him with a button on his wrist.

"Did you mean to kiss me?" you finally manage to ask, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"No," he admits, his gaze unwavering, but a flicker of excitement dances in your chest as he continues, "but I can't deny that I haven't thought about doing it. Many times."

You're too stunned to respond, the weight of his words leaving you speechless, and you can only watch in disbelief as he closes the distance between you. His hand reaches up, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Tell me... if I hadn't pulled away, would you have kissed me back?" he whispers, his voice barely audible but filled with a raw vulnerability that leaves you breathless.

You stare into his eyes, all your uncertainties melting away in the intensity of the moment. Unable to resist any longer, you lean in and press a gentle, swift kiss to his lips, pulling back with a coy smile. "Does that answer your question?"

Hunter's chest rises and falls with a mixture of surprise and longing at your kiss, his hands finding a comfortable place on your hips. "Maybe," he teases in response, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think I need to just..." he leans in closer, his lips barely brushing against yours before trailing agonisingly slowly across your cheek and up to your ear.

"Hunter," you gasp silently, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips brush over your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Yes?" he asks innocently, his warm breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin as it fans over you, sending a rush of heat coursing through your veins.

"It's now or never," you whisper breathlessly, your voice barely above a murmur. "Kiss me... kiss me properly."

With a surge of desire, his lips leave your ear and find yours, his hand cupping your jaw as you both surrender to the heated passion between you. Your back presses against the wall of the ship as you eagerly reciprocate, your fingers tangling in his hair with a firm grip as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of each other's touch.

Gone are the smiles and lingering glances, replaced by the urgency of the moment that ignites a fiery passion between you. Both of you are breathless, yet neither of you wants to break away. The kiss is messy, with teeth occasionally clanging together, but it only adds to the raw intensity of the moment.

In a bold move, he lifts your leg and hooks it around his waist, drawing you closer until his body is pressed against yours. Your hands roam over his armor, desperate to remove every barrier between you.

He obliges, a small smirk playing on his lips as he swiftly removes his armor, his lips only briefly parting from yours before he's swallowing your moans once more. "I can't stop kissing you," he grunts, his breathing heavy and intoxicating, sending shivers down your spine.

"Good thing I haven't told you to stop," you growl against his lips, earning a deep groan in response before he deftly maneuvers you onto the floor, crawling over you and enveloping you in his arms.

His tongue dances along your lower lip, seeking entrance that you're willing to grant, but you can't resist the urge to tease him, to show him what he's been missing for so long. Ignoring his plea, you gently bite down on his lip, eliciting a gasp of surprise from him, and seizing the opportunity, you take the lead.

He meets your passion with equal fervor, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance. Both of you are panting, and you're grateful that you had cleaned the floor beforehand. "Fuck, you're perfect," he murmurs between kisses, his words sending a rush of warmth to your core.

Lips locked, one of his hands slips under your shirt, sending a tingling sensation racing along your skin as his fingers trail along your stomach and up the side of your ribs. Your breath catches in your throat as he continues his exploration, his touch gentle yet electric, until he ever so softly caresses your breast.

A soft gasp escapes your lips at the intimate contact, your body arching instinctively toward his touch as desire courses through you. With each delicate caress, the heat between you intensifies, and you find yourself completely lost in the sensation of his touch.

"More... please," you gasp into his mouth, your body ablaze with desire. He listens to your plea, his hand reluctantly leaving your breast before sliding back down your body. His fingers dance along your skin, teasing along the hem of your waistband, igniting a primal need within you.

Naturally, arousal courses through you, transforming this fleeting moment of passion into something deeper. "I've dreamt about touching you down here," he whispers against your lips, swollen and flushed with desire.

He's on the verge of breaking the barrier, your body eagerly anticipating his touch, when the shrill noise of his comm device, scattered on the floor next to your head, shatters the moment.

He looks at you, then at his comm, and back to you with an apologetic smile. "It's best I get that. Just in case."

You nod in understanding, suddenly feeling shy and bashful. But he doesn't move from above you, instead swiping up his comm and answering the call. "What's the problem?"

"We're heading back. Crosshair ate some of those berries that gave Wrecker a rash last time," Echo's voice echoes loudly in the cabin, interrupting the intimate moment.

"Fantastic. We'll see you soon," Hunter replies, cutting off the call with a sigh of frustration.

Despite the interruption, you can't help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Hey," you say softly, reaching up to cup his cheek, "we could do this another time... if you'd like that?"

He chuckles, meeting your gaze with a mixture of longing and gratitude. "I want nothing more than that," he admits, sealing the moment with the gentlest kiss on your lips. "I, uh, I liked this. A lot."

As he helps you sit up, Hunter's movements are gentle yet purposeful, his attention focused on reassembling his gear. Meanwhile, you take a moment to smooth out your hair and adjust your clothing before standing up.

"Hunter?"

Turning to face you, Hunter's gaze is warm yet curious. "Yeah?" he responds, his brow furrowing slightly in anticipation of your next words.

"Thank you," you say softly, sincerity lacing every syllable.

His confusion deepens, prompting him to take a step closer to you, his hand finding its way to your waist as he draws you near. "What for?" he inquires, his eyes searching yours for answers.

Your heart swells at his proximity, and you meet his gaze with a mixture of affection and appreciation.

"For feeling the same way I do."

There were many, many sneaky kisses from then on.

More Hunter Works

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan n @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904

[faevi]

can u do make up sex with saturo

SAPPHIRE LOVE. - (gojo smut)

Scenario: Gojo Satoru is your boyfriend and you were excited to celebrate your fifth year together in a fancy restaurant. It’s a pity that work seems to always come first. Satoru accidentally missed the date and left you feeling insecure. Can he make it up to you?

Word Count: 9,230 words.

Content/Trigger Warnings: female reader (she/her), angst-ish (not too bad imo), sadness, over-thinking, insecurities, fear of losing one another, fluff (does this need to be warned?), cheesiness, romance, love, sex, unprotected sex, consenting sex, make up sex, cum inside, cock-warming, praise, teasing, finger sucking, cunningulous, fingering, handjob, big dick, mentions of bulging (it’s fiction ok, it’s hot), side by side sex position, intimacy, crying, absolutely smitten for one another.

I think that’s it…? I never know what needs to be warned, lmao. Please (kindly) let me know if I missed anything!!

Note: I hope you like it, anon!! Please do let me know if you do (: Or well, that goes for anyone. HAHA, i’m a sucker for praise so I get happy if I hear someone enjoyed it. Personally, don’t think it’s my best work and that I can always do better ; ; . So forgive me. I’ll continue to try hard! Please enjoy <3333 Thank you for the request!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Your soft hands cup your own cheeks as you continue to sit at the reserved table, customers slowly filtering out of the restaurant around you. Sadness clouds your gaze, staring blankly at the candle that is slowly melting away. It’s already closing time and the staff are looking at you with nothing but pity. It’s embarrassing. You keep your head tilted down, taking the last gulp of wine before you sigh heavily. He’s not coming. How foolish of you to think he would.

You bunch up the tightly fitted red dress that you decided on for this special occasion before you stand up, ignoring the ache in your feet from wearing heels and grab your glittery clutch that matches the shade of your dress. Everything new, bought for this special occasion. Tears burn your eyes but you hold your head high, refusing to let the humiliation overwhelm you. You approach the counter, pulling your wallet out of your clutch.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay, it’s on the house.”

You stare at the waitress, soon glancing around to other staff members who pretend to look busy with cleaning and stacking dirty dishes. Humiliating. “I wasn’t stood up by a first date if that’s what you’re thinking. My boyfriend is just— a busy man. Let me pay, please.” You insist gently, silently wondering why you defend your boyfriend out of instinct. The waitress nods before preparing the machine and gesturing for you to tap your card, smiling. You hold it until you hear the beep before moving towards the door. “Thank you.” You say, ignoring how your voice wavers and finally part from the restaurant. You practically had to run out in hopes of ignoring their hushed whispers. You’re sure you’re their entertainment for the night. The girl who gets stood up for the night.

It’s not the embarrassment of being noticed that gets to you. No. It’s the fact that it happened. Your boyfriend not turning up. The pair of you had this dinner planned for months. It’s one of those restaurants that are just booked out every single night. Hell, both of you were excited to try the food… and to celebrate the fifth year together. You grip your clutch tightly to try and prevent your hands from shaking as tears blur your vision. It’s hard to walk in the heels on the pavement and you debate about taking them off. You should be calling for an Uber. It’s far too dangerous at night and you could practically feel eyes in the alleyways undressing you, but you just struggle to think of anything else. All you can think about is him.

Why? Why did this have to happen? You know that Satoru is a busy person. Incredibly busy and there were times in the past that he ended up accidentally missing, but he insisted that he’d be there for this one. Maybe that’s why it hurts so much. He said he’d be there with you. Still, even with your heart aching and tears down your cheeks, smearing your make-up; you found yourself not feeling angry. It’s more of a disappointment and a reminder that maybe you’re a lonely person despite having a loving boyfriend. He’s barely around, even when he tries. Insecure thoughts start to blossom in your mind. Is he intentionally avoiding you? Did he find someone else? Does he not want you anymore or worse… Does he not love you anymore?

A small hiccup escapes, trembling hands coming up to rub at your eyes frantically, smearing the make-up and teeth gritting. You shouldn’t be looking so vulnerable and easy for the taking on the streets that you continue to walk on. Would he even care if something happened? You start to feel a struggle to even breathe, chest so tight with heartache and worries. Butterflies are dead in your stomach.

“Y/N!”

You whip your head around from hearing a familiar voice. His voice. Satoru is standing there, hunched over with his large hands gripping onto his knees and panting heavily. He’s in his work clothing, tie loose around his neck. Hope briefly sparks at the sight of your boyfriend before it comes crashing down from realisation. He missed the anniversary date. You look away from the white-haired male, avoiding eye contact. You don’t want him to see you in such a mess. “Did you forget about me?” You ask quietly, voice wavering. He’s only able to hear you speak because it’s so late at night and the roads are quiet.

“What? No! Babe, I tried— Work was so busy, they kept asking for me. It’s hard to say no.” Satoru tries to explain, his own heart clenching from witnessing you look so miserable in front of him. He exhales out shakily, standing tall as he approaches, his hand reaching out towards you. You angle yourself away, arms crossing across your body as a way to protect yourself or more of a way to try and contain your insecurities and overthinking thoughts. You don’t want to bother him with them. Work is more important than you, after all.

It’s like a sharp stab to his heart, hand dropping to his side and already looking defeated. You’re angry with him and rightfully so. Satoru won’t try to argue back this time. He fucked up. You went out to buy a new dress for the special night. Even bought a clutch to match and styled your hair. You were clearly looking forward to it. Satoru can’t deny that he was also excited but, when an entire company relies so heavily on him… He forgot momentarily what really mattered to him. You keep your face tilted away, your hand wiping at your clammy face. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to cause you pain. I never want to see you in pain and to be one that caused it— I won’t let it happen again.” Satoru says softly, hastily stuffing his hands into his pockets to restrain himself from touching you.

“Work seems to be more important than me, Satoru. It’s always work. You’re always there. Rarely with me. Is it selfish of me to wish I was prioritised first? I feel like you don’t love me anymore.” You mumble out quickly, feeling defeated. Satoru’s crystal blue eyes widen with absolute horror at those words. He feels outright disgusted. Never by you, but the fact that he’s somehow forced you into a position where you think such nasty things. Awful lies. “Y/N, please. You are the most important to me. Don’t love you? That’s not tru—”

“I’m going to stay at a friend’s place tonight, okay? We can talk about this later… I just— I can’t do it tonight. Not after being left alone… I understand it was work.” You say quickly, pulling your phone out to call for an Uber. Even that feels like an impossible task because of how hard your hands shake. You feel like you’re too deep in your current heartache to be able to process anything he says. The insecurity triumphs over the truth. Satoru’s long fingers push through his hair, turning away for a moment as it’s too painful. Hearing those words and you pulling away from him. Fuck. It’s all his fault.

“Okay, can we talk tomorrow? Please?” Satoru pleads, nails scratching over his scalp and he shivers at the burning sensation. He’d rather have any form of physical pain than this mess at the moment. You look over at him briefly, phone clutched to your chest. His brows are knitted together to form a frown, lips puckering slightly. It’s hard to deny him. Always has been. “Tomorrow.” You confirm quietly, looking down at the screen. Thankfully, an Uber driver accepted that it was just around the corner. You won’t have to stand in awkward silence. The silver vehicle slowly pulls up in front of you and before you can reach for the handle, Satoru is already opening the door, gaze intensely focused on you. “At least text me when you arrive safely, too. I need to know that you’re safe.”

Your heart jumps a little, the gesture reminds you of when you first met him. He accidentally slammed a door in your face before frantically yanking it open. Since then, he always opened doors for you. Your free hand rests over his larger one on the car door, staring down at the touch you give. “I’ll text you.” You promise before pulling away to settle down in the back seat of the car. Satoru’s eyes are filled with sadness; desperately hoping that he’ll be able to fix this. He closes the door gently and watches the car drive off, hands pulling at his white hair in frustration. He severely fucked up.

---------

A day ended up being a few days before you were ready to face the music. It simply took you this long because you found yourself worrying that everything would turn for the worse and you’d end up losing him. Funny how your brain works when he is the one who missed the anniversary date. You should be the one who is angry and making that giant of a man drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness. Anger just isn’t who you are, though. Never. If you’re haunted by negativity, it’s always sadness. Insecurities and doubts. Jealousy. You turn into this little monster of overthinking and tears. Why would he want to be with someone like that? Especially when you had to ask just for a few more days.

Satoru eagerly obliged your request and you wonder if it’s because he wanted a break from you. In reality, you wish your mind would just agree that it’s because Satoru is secretly a gentleman and an amazing lover. He would agree with anything you say, even if it pains him. It’s funny how different he is with you compared to when he is with others. That should just be a clue shoved in your sniffling face to know how he really feels.

You sigh out softly, mindlessly rating the Uber driver the typical five stars and a tip, before pushing the door open and stepping out. It’s evening already on a Friday night. You doubt Satoru is home, but you’ll wait for him. The sun is already slowly starting to set, the sky a gorgeous hue of pinks mixed with reds. Thankfully the sun is low enough behind the apartment building that you don’t have to squint. Your hands tighten on your handbag and you enter the apartment complex after typing in the code to the building. Quietly, you entered the elevator that was already on the ground floor and pressed for your floor. You slump against the elevator wall, watching the number increase. Even your heart starts to increase, anxiety pumping through your veins.

You hate feeling so nervous. Your hands start to feel clammy and your knees tremble. What if he really does leave you after realising there’s no point trying? What if work is more important? You exhale out a shaky breath, cursing to yourself and bring a hand up to wipe the tears that threaten to spill. The elevator doors slide open and you’re finally on the floor of the apartment that you share with the white-haired male. He won’t be home yet, even though you messaged him that you were coming home a few hours ago. You’ll have to wait up on the couch, watching each minute tick by until he’s home as well. Sometimes you wish you could choke his workforce.

You slide the key into the slot and twist it around until you hear a click, slowly opening the door. Out of habit, your gaze focuses first on the alarm and is ready to type in the code; except the alarm wasn’t on… You see glimmers of light in the corner of your eye and finally turn your head to look. You choke on your own gasp of shock, hand coming up to cover your mouth. Tiny candles in glasses line up along either side of the hallway, rose petals of red and white scattered across the wooden floor and gentle music filtering through from where the spacious lounge and dining room are.

“What…” You mutter, soon letting out a small laugh of disbelief as you slip out of your shoes at the entryway and begin to walk down the hallway, eyes fixated on the petals and trying not to crush any of them. Does this mean Satoru is home? Surely, he’s not that reckless to leave unattended candles and… does this sweet gesture mean something good? You finally enter the main area of the apartment and Satoru is standing there, looking rather awkward yet hopeful as he gazes at you, hands twisting.

Satoru is beyond nervous. He has been since watching a stupid Uber drive you further away from him. It’s his fault, he knows. He heard you enter and the gentle shuffling of your feet down the hallway and here you are, right in front of him. You look beautiful, even in ordinary clothes. Your gaze is brief on the surroundings. More candles are scattered around the apartment, bouquets of roses in vases and you even notice a small box on the coffee table. You look at Satoru, confusion on your face as you move closer to him, heart swelling at the sight of his nerves. Satoru is never nervous.

“I thought you’d be at work.” You begin, dropping your bag on the couch and standing in front of him, smiling softly. Your insecure thoughts begin to gently wash away and ease your mind. Satoru laughs, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment. ‘Stay calm’, he thinks to himself. He towers above you when he’s closer, coaxing you out of your jacket, smiling. “Took the day off. Actually, took all of next week off, too.” He responds, draping your jacket over the edge of the couch. You stand there, mouth gaping and watching as he casually steps behind you, large hands clasping your shoulders and guiding you over to the dining table. Satoru never takes days off.

That’s when you notice that dinner has been prepared, and displayed so beautifully. It’s spaghetti and garlic bread. Something simple and smells so good. Most friends and co-workers always doubt if Satoru has a romantic side and you’re just thankful that it’s a private side that you get to see. Although, it’s usually just very small gestures. Nothing this grand. You wonder if he thought all of this up by himself. You press your lips together, not daring to ask yet. Satoru is clearly on edge and you start to feel guilt bubbling up inside of you. You made him wait anxiously, which feels so wrong; even if you were drowning in your own doubt and sorrow.

Satoru could practically see the wheels turn in your head, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze before moving to slide your chair out. “C’mon, sit.” He says, nodding towards the chair. You smile softly before you sit down, shifting as he pushes the chair in. “Satoru, honey. You— You didn’t have to do this. I’m sorry—“ You pause when he raises his hand to stop you, settling down across from you. Satoru knows you like the back of his hand and just knew you’d try to apologise when you’re not to blame. Rarely to blame for any conflict. This is his fault and while he can be often clueless to how people feel; it’s like he’s hardwired to be aware of your feelings. Hence his desperation to make up to you.

“I suck at expressing myself, you know that. But, I want to try right now.” Satoru says, crystal blue eyes steady on your face. He reaches out across the table to tenderly take your hand in his. “I shouldn’t have missed our date, Y/N. Simple as that. I shouldn’t ever be so busy that it gets in the way of time with you. You have always been my priority. The most important part of my life. It’s not an excuse when I say that work tends to manipulate my ass into staying busy— Yeah, the strongest being manipulated sounds like a lie.” He chuckles softly when he sees you raise your eyebrow in questioning, thumb caressing lovingly across your knuckles. “Truth is, I let it happen because all I can think about is being able to support us in the future… It just bounced back hard in my face. Again, not an excuse. This is on me entirely.”

You sigh softly, squeezing his hand. “Satoru, it’s okay..” You trail off and Satoru shakes his head. “You forgive too easily, y’know? It’s one of the things I love about you.” He expresses, gaze softening. You feel your cheeks heat up, flustered by the accurate callout, but also that it’s rare to hear him be so serious with his feelings. Satoru is never shy nor backs down from expressing his feelings. It’s just not so often like this. It’s often playful or to reassure you. Naturally, though, it does reassure you now. You always found it nice that he didn’t have some fragile masculinity despite being the charming male you first met him as and other people often assuming he’s a stereotype. A man who isn’t afraid of feelings. You adore it.

“I am sorry, Y/N. That I missed our anniversary and caused you to be in such a humiliating position. I know it probably wasn’t easy sitting there alone. It was a special night and I ruined it. I’m sorry that I caused insecurity— Nah, you don’t even need to tell me. I just know you felt them.” He sighs out softly, letting go of your hand. Satoru reaches for the bottle of wine, already popped and ready. He pours the deep red liquid into each glass. “I want to be a better boyfriend. Really. No more missing dates. More time with you. Fuck work, honestly.”

You let out a laugh, startled by his change of attitude. “You love that job, Satoru. I’m no fool.” You say, taking hold of the glass of wine, and gently swirling the liquid. “Yeah, but I love you more. I told work that no more calling me in on the weekend and that every second Friday was off. They can try and reject it… They won’t, though. They need me too much.” Satoru says rather cockily, grinning against the rim of his glass of wine. You widen your eyes from hearing the news, almost choking on your wine. “Y- You don’t have to do that!” You express hastily and the white-haired male shakes his head, broad shoulders shaking.

“I don’t, but I want to. I care more about you. Simple as that. This may be me trying to make it up to you, I won’t deny that. It’s also that I want more time with the one I love. We won’t live forever. Time is precious.” He says, taking a sip of his wine. “Try the food. I struggled over the stove for this.” Satoru jokes and you roll your eyes. Satoru is good at everything. Including cooking. It’s all a breeze for him. You sit up in your chair and twirl your metal fork in the noodles before leaning down to slurp them up, moaning at the delicious taste of the sauce.

Satoru shifts in his seat from hearing you, taking a gulp of wine before setting the glass down. “Good to know it was a success.” He snorts quietly and you kick him lightly under the dining table. You smile towards him before looking down. You should be honest. You quietly eat, trying to gather your thoughts before you speak. “You know me too well, Satoru. Sometimes it’s like you can see right through me. I did end up being insecure. Instead of being angry, like most would be… It’s like my mind instantly just goes down the other route. I worried that I was too much, I expect too much and want too much. When you didn’t show up, I blamed myself. I even worried that you found someone else… I panicked that you were going to leave me tonight. That our relationship was too much of a hassle.” You distract yourself by twirling your fork through the spaghetti noodles, unable to meet his sad gaze. “I could never be angry at you, but I’m selfish. I do want more time and I find myself hating your work.” You confess quietly, tearing off a piece of garlic bread to nibble on.

Satoru’s long fingers stroke down along your forearm before taking hold of your free hand. “Work won’t get in the way anymore, I promise. No more fuck ups, unless it’s together.” He jokes lightly, prompting you to snort with amusement. It’s even the little things that he says that make you feel better. “I could never be out of love when it comes to you. It’s like you produce an infinite amount inside of me.” Satoru continues, not expecting you to toss your garlic bread at him, feeling flustered. “What’s with the cheesiness? Come on, eat this delicious meal you cooked.” You whine and Satoru chuckles, wiping crumbs off of his shirt. Deep down, you love the cheesiness and maybe that’s why it’s easy for him to say it.

You both continue to eat the dinner he prepped, not afraid of the silence that falls between you both. It’s comforting, really. You feel as if the weight is lifted off of your shoulders, worries wiped away from not only his promises but also for the evening he prepared. Eventually, you set your fork down in the empty bowl and lean back, hands rubbing your stomach which now feels full. “Did you plan this all by yourself?” You ask, watching Satoru awkwardly puff his cheeks out and look off to the side. “Partly. I may have googled for ideas on how to make my girl happy, after causing her unnecessary sadness... Though, I think I could have easily come up with this on my own.” Satoru grumbles lightly, toned chest puffing out.

Your smile is soft, endeared by his childish behaviour sometimes. It’s cute that he wants all the credit. “Google isn’t taking any of this away from you, baby.” You say, voice laced with sweetness. “I love it, really. It’s sweet of you to do this. Better than a dinner in a fancy restaurant.” You continue and Satoru rubs his hands along his toned thighs. Still, he regrets immensely for missing such an important night. “Google didn’t help me with one idea, at least. It was all mine.” The white-haired male stands up, shuffling over. He didn’t bother with pulling your chair outright. Instead, his arms loop under your armpits to easily hoist you up, coaxing out a few giggles. “What are you doing?” You laugh, feet dragging along the wooden floor as he moves towards the couch, dropping you onto it.

Satoru, pleased by your adorable giggles; leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Wait there for a moment. I know if we leave the dishes out, it will drive you crazy.” He teases, moving to the dining table to stack up the empty dishes before bringing them to the kitchen. Satoru finds himself quite frantic as he stacks them into the dishwasher, not wanting to be away from you. He already had to suffer a few days without you. You stretch your limbs out across the couch as you wait for your boyfriend to return to you, thinking that you shouldn’t have left for a few days. Why did you do that? Especially when it feels like you can’t breathe when he isn’t around to provide you with life itself.

Satoru sets the dishwasher before eagerly returning to yourself, nearly slipping on a few of the rose petals. “Fuck—” He blurts out, laughing along with you. The tall male sits next to you, large hands reaching to pull you in close by your waist, refusing to leave a gap. The knees had to at least be touching. Butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach when you notice the way Satoru is gazing at you. With all of the warmth in the world. Everywhere out of this room must be so cold. “You’re the prettiest, you know that? When I first met you, everything just clicked and I knew you had to be mine.” He says, voice low and soothing. You glance down out of shyness, nudging the tall male. “You slammed a door in my face.” You remind him and he grimaces, large hands cupping your cheeks. “Forgive me for that. For everything.”

You lean forward, nose nudging against his before pecking his lips. “Always. That’s what love is about.” You whisper against his lips. Satoru pulls away for a moment, grinning. “Love, right.” Satoru pauses before he reaches for the small box on the coffee table. “Before you go freaking out, it’s not what it looks like. I wouldn’t want to do that after we had a moment of falling apart.” Satoru says, opening the box to reveal a simple silver ring. It has two dainty flowers wrapped around one another, sapphire stones sparkling gently in the middle. “Satoru..” You breathe out in complete awe from such a pretty ring. You couldn’t even process the fact that he’s already starting to slide it onto your finger. “A promise ring. Eternity ring? It’s whatever. It’s me saying that I promise to love and be with you for eternity. To never leave, yeah? A promise to spend more time with you, because I want to.” Satoru says softly, thumb gently gliding across the ring on your finger. One day, he really will marry you properly. Not just some promise ring.

You feel your bottom lip start to tremble, eyes fixated on the sapphire ring before you launch forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against his bigger frame. Satoru arches an eyebrow, soon grinning towards you. “I love you. I’m going to find my own ring for you. I want to promise that I won’t ever leave you either. You’re mine.” You whisper, fingers tangling into his silky hair before you press your lips against his, pouring every bit of love you feel for the male and hoping he can feel it all.

He can. Satoru, a man who is an absolute sucker for your kisses; slowly melts into the couch, hands on your waist as he returns the loving kiss. His soft tiers move slowly against your pair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. He could taste the red wine that lingers on your lips, but it was not the alcohol that left him feeling intoxicated. It’s you. You both seem to kiss for a long time, tongue sliding into your willing mouth, exploring every inch of it and happily tasting more. He finally manages to part from the kiss, now swollen lips dragging along the length of your jawline as he whispers. “Let me make it up to you further, Y/N. Let me show you how deeply I love you.”

You whine softly, fingers curling into the fabric of his dress shirt to pull him against you, lips forming a natural pout. “You don’t need to make it up to me anymore… I’m not against you showing that, though.” You purr softly, nipping at his sharp jawline, nose nuzzling against his cheek. Satoru chuckles, hands sliding down to firmly cup just beneath your ass and lifts you up with ease. He blindly carries you to the shared bedroom and you can’t stop the giggles from escaping when he accidentally bumps into the walls several times. “Hush, hush.” Satoru groans dramatically, smiling against the side of your neck. He adores your giggles.

Your arms are draped over his broad shoulders, leaning into every kiss that he plants against your lips, sighing out softly. He’s always been an amazing kisser. It reminds you of your first date with him and how you couldn’t get off his lap because you just wanted to spend those hours lost in a kiss with the white-haired male. Satoru lowers you onto the bed you share together, one arm wrapping around your waist to hoist you up further until your head meets the pillows. His long fingers dip beneath your shirt to soothingly stroke, free hand planted against the pillows near your head.

“You’re going to be my pillow princess tonight, understood? Your pleasure is mine.” He mutters, eyelids feeling heavy as he glances along the length of your body beneath him. Fuck, he’s missed you. You huff, fingers already twitching with the need to touch but if there’s someone who is more stubborn than you; it’s definitely Gojo Satoru. He won’t even let you near his cock until he says so and it just feels so unfair that you can’t provide him with pleasure in return. Even if he claims that he finds it through blessing you with pleasure. It’s also not fair simply because you’re obsessed with his pretty cock. If it’s not stuffed inside of you and filling you up to the brim? You want at least some sort of body part touching it.

A grin lingers on his visage when he witnesses your mental struggle, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “You’re too cute,” Satoru says before he begins to leave a trail of wet kisses along your jawline, teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh. You squirm a little as he travels down further, lips refusing to leave your neck. Instead, he sucks gently on your skin, tongue gliding across the warm surface and pulls back slightly to blow against the wet saliva that he left behind. You whine from the cold sensation, fingers curling into the front of his dress shirt. Satoru murmurs his praise and you’re barely able to process it. You just feel all floaty and good when he touches you.

Satoru’s cheeks hurt from smiling too much. Relief tends to wash over him in soft waves when he realises that you still belong to him and that you didn’t leave after his mistake. Final mistake. He doesn’t want to hurt you anymore. Not that he wanted to hurt you in the first place. He shakes his head to snap out of his thoughts, strands of hair tickling you. It’s over now. What’s important is to show you how much you mean to him. His lips latch onto the side of your neck once more, this time to suck harshly enough for a hickey to appear, repeating the action a few more times.

“Feeling possessive?” You pant out, toes curling as a pitiful way to contain yourself through his loving abuse. “Mm, always.” Satoru purrs, utterly oblivious to your hand skillfully unbuttoning his shirt until he feels the fabric drape against you. He pulls away to kneel above you, looking down at his now exposed upper body. You hungrily take in the beautiful sight of his chiselled abs and unblemished skin. So soft and begging to be touched. Your index finger playfully drags along the v-line that leads down towards…

He snatches your hand up, fingers curling around your wrist and pulling away. “You sneaky minx.” Satoru laughs, endeared by your cheeky behaviour. “Can you wait your turn like a good girl?” He asks, waiting for you to huff and nod your head. Satoru lets go of your hand before deciding to shrug out of his shirt, tossing it to the side to forget about it completely. Large hands caress along your sides. “I’m not wearing a bra.” You comment ever so casually and soon met with your shirt being peeled off of your body, lifting your arms to help with taking it off. “Fucking hell, you’re not.” Satoru groans, cock twitching in his slacks from just gazing down at your pretty breasts.

His hands were quick to cup them, eager to squeeze the squishy mounds and watch as they filled up the gaps between his fingers. Satoru’s hold is firm and his massaging is a mixture of gentle and rough, wanting to coax out your needy, filthy sounds. They slip from your couplets easily. You arch up into his touch, brows furrowing when he pinches the sensitive buds and twists until you cry out from the aching pain. He continues to tease your nipples, sliding his body down until he’s half laying on top of you, tongue flicking against the bud. A numbing sensation spreads from your nipples and pleasure straight to your core. You’ve been the sensitive kind since you could breathe and despite that, you always chase for more. Especially by your boyfriend’s hands.

“Is teasing making up to me, ah…” You moan out breathlessly, one hand fisting the blankets beneath and Satoru laughs, the sound muffled as his tongue continues to sweetly drag and swirl around each of your nipples. “In a way, yeah. ‘Cause you’re a little masochistic princess who enjoys being riled up and teased.” He says as he presses your breasts together to bury his face against your soft mounds. Flustered, you nudge your knee against his crotch, causing him to grunt out loud. You could be just as ‘evil’ with your teasing.

Satoru’s hands continue to tenderly squeeze and massage your breasts as he presses kisses down the length of your body, lips parted to allow saliva to seep out, each kiss left against your skin wetter than the one before. You giggle softly, feeling a light ticklish feeling spread across your stomach. Blindly, fingers thread through his silky hair to pull on, nails scraping along his scalp. Satoru has many addictions and each one involves you. Always you. Even when he continues to kiss up and down your midriff, silently worshipping your beautiful body with his touch. His tongue danced along your warm skin and teeth latching onto the softness so he was able to suck harshly, craving to mark you all over.

“Baby, come on..” You whine out quietly, feet kicking against the mattress. “What is it? Want more? Mm…” Satoru trails off, fingers hooking beneath your pants and begins to tug them down. “Bet you’re already soaked,” Satoru whispers, excitement pumping through his veins at just the thought. Fuck, he wants to see. You manage to help him tug your pants off until you’re only left in a pair of cotton panties in a soft red. His grip on your inner thighs forces your legs to spread and he lets out a low whistle of approval, lustful gazes fixating on the dump patch across your panties. You seem so needy just from how it nearly covers the expanse of your panties.

“Barely touched you and you’re soaking. Way to boost my ego, baby girl.” Satoru chuckles, shifting himself low enough so his face is directly in front of your covered pussy. He tilts his head to pepper kisses along your inner thighs, edging closer towards your womanhood. Of course, being an impatient girlfriend; you try to angle yourself so he’s already touching you where you deeply crave him. An utter failure as he easily pins you down with a hand against your hip, not needing to use much strength. You’re just so weak compared to him. You love it.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N. How did I get so lucky..” His voice is low and hushed, nose pressing against the damp patch and inhaling deeply. You smell delectable. The flat of his tongue drags across the covered pussy several times, eyes on your body to watch as you squirm, clearly chasing for more. Too cute… The tip of his tongue presses against the fabric until you gasp from the scratchy feeling of the panties making contact with your throbbing clit. His palms stroke along your thighs as he’s relentless with his teasing, refusing to move the panties.

Needy whines spill from your lips frustrated that you’ve yet to feel his actual mouth on your dripping cunt. It seems he finally takes pity on you, lifting his head. “Do you value these panties?” He asks, finger running along the edge of them. “Nn, no…” You answer, almost sounding like a question. One rough tug and you process the sound fabric ripping before you realise what just happened. Satoru rips the panties with ease, thinking it is far easier than having to move you around just to slide them off delicately. “That was hot.” You blurted out, watching him toss them to where the other discarded clothing lay.

Lips twist to form a smirk from your words, though he’s distracted. Completely. All he can focus on is the gorgeous sight of your bare pussy, dripping with your juices. “Fucking perfect and all mine to devour.” Satoru groans and wastes no time to dive in. He’s a pussy eater through and through. The world would have to try and take him down to stop him from eating you out. Sometimes, he thinks he’s made for exactly this. He refuses sex if there’s no chance to eat you out. This is a need. Your high-pitched moan laces with his breathless one, head tilting back on the pillow as his tongue eagerly laps up your juices, dragging between your slick-covered folds.

Already, your sweetness coats his lower face as he keeps his face buried between your quivering legs. Long fingers part your folds, tongue breaking the strings of slick before his wet muscle swirls around your bundle of nerves. You feel sharp shocks of pleasure spread from your core, whimpering loudly. Your fingers grip hopelessly onto his white hair to try and ground yourself as Satoru’s lips move against your sopping pussy. He always eats you out like he’s a man who’s been starved for weeks, refusing to pull away, even as he feels the painful tug on his hair. You taste so sweet, filling up his mouth as his tongue easily gathers enough of your juice to swallow. Always happy to consume.

Satoru’s nose rubs light against your clit now, moving his mouth until his tongue could drag along your hole, swirling around the tight rim of it. You feel too blissed out to even be flustered by the sounds of him slurping, the tip of his tongue pressing against your entrance and sending vibrations as he moans. Two hands come up to cover your face momentarily, unable to truly contain the pleasure you feel as it washes over you in constant waves. “Satoru…” You moan out sweetly and it encourages him to grind nice and slow against the mattress to feel some sort of ease for his raging erection.

The friction of the fabric rubbing against his cock leaves him moaning your name, already feeling the eagerness to be buried inside of you grow. No. He must take his time making love to you. His thumb presses against your clit to rub in a circular motion, soaking in the sight of you squirming against the bed and unable to escape. Not that you’d ever truly want to. It’s just when your body feels so sensitive to the pleasure; you need Satoru to pin you down. His tongue continues to lick nice and slow, only flicking quickly against your clit between movements of his thumb rubbing it.

“P-Please, just let me touch you somehow..” You beg through a whimpering moan, eyes threatening to roll back from the ecstasy. Satoru hums, deliberately slowing himself down before pressing a loving kiss to the bundle of nerves and pulling himself off. Your body that’s been sent through a high slows down, feeling sad that you couldn’t orgasm. Still, maybe this means he is obliging your needs. You smile, eyes full of love swirled with hope and doing the grabby hand gesture towards him.

Satoru melts at the sight. How could he say no to his girl? “Alright, alright. Miss needy. We’re doing it my way, though.” He warns lightly before his hands roll you onto your side and you raise an eyebrow in questioning. Satoru simply flashes his signature grin, unbuckling his pants before swiftly kicking them off, along with his underwear. He sighs with relief from his length finally being free. Instantly, you look down towards it hungrily, already wishing to wrap your fingers around the fatness of it, fingers tracing along the protruding veins. He says nothing as he lays down next to you, facing you. Your face heats up when you realise his lower face is still wet from being busy between your legs. You feel your pussy clench from it. “What? Getting shy on me?” Satoru says rather teasingly, guiding your leg upwards slightly.

With the way Satoru positions himself, his throbbing cock is now pressing against your stomach and his hand has complete access to your pussy, despite your thighs clenched around his wrist. “Come on, baby girl... You’ve been wanting to touch me.” He urges, long fingers gliding up between your dripping folds once more before he begins to gently rub your clit. You tremble, mind wiped blank momentarily from the tiny jolts of pleasure. Soon, you manage to wrap your fingers around the base of his length, always admiring how the tips of your fingers were barely able to touch. Your boyfriend has not only a pretty cock, but a big one, too. All yours to have.

Your hand strokes upwards, noticing the pre-cum beading at the tip and rubs the head lightly with your palm, watching the way Satoru’s brows already begin to furrow and biting down on his lip. The head of his cock is your favourite to tease. “You’re so big, Satoru..” You whisper, pressing your body up against his cock, slowly grinding down against his fingers that tease your entrance. If there’s one thing that really gets Satoru going, it’s praise. Whether for his bedroom skills or just how obsessed you are with his cock. His heart jumps from hearing your words, grinning a little. “Mm, yeah? Bet you can’t wait for me to fill you to the brim then. You always get so needy, even when I’m already fucking you.” Satoru mocks, sounding like someone knocks the wind out of him just from you spreading the leaking pre-cum along his cock as you stroke him, nice and slow. The white-haired male looks down towards your hand, finding it looking so cute wrapped around his cock. Barely. Even cuter with the glittering ring on your finger. All his. Forever.

You gasp softly, feeling two of his long fingers finally press against your entrance until they sink in slowly, velvety walls stretching around the new invasion and you squeeze around him. Satoru curses beneath his breath, already desiring to be inside of you with something much bigger. He can’t, though. He wants to take his time with making love to you tonight. You lean forward to press a loving kiss to his bare shoulder, nose lightly nuzzling against the warm skin. You close your eyes, focusing on how heavenly it is to feel his fingers pump in and out of you slowly, slightly restricted by your clenched thighs. Clearly, he refuses to let that stop him entirely.

His loving gaze refuses to leave your visage, taking in everything. The way your eyebrow twitches when he pushes his fingers in deeper or how your eyes widen in awe from the way he seems to finger you so perfectly compared to previous shitty partners. It’s like he knows everything about your body without question. What leaves you breathless and your mind spinning. Quietly, he angles his wrist, fingers searching for— Ah, there it is. You cry out suddenly, walls clenching around his fingers that are relentless with rubbing against your sweet spot. Thighs quiver and stroking hand stutters along his thick cock. It’s so hard for you to focus, your hand movements becoming sloppy as you curl forward, grinding down against his digits.

Satoru didn’t care about the sloppy handjob. Hell, it still feels good. The warm and snug feeling wrapped around his length leaves him craving for something more. He wants you. He wants to make love to you until all you can see is him amongst the stars. To feel nothing but sweet ecstasy. He stretches his fingers out slightly against your snug tight walls that are coated with your own excitement. You rub your palm weakly against the head of his cock, face tilting to bury into the pillows, muffling your filthy moans. The white-haired male is gritting his teeth, feeling his cock throb more than ever before. “Now…” You manage to moan out, looking towards him in a daze.

Usually not one to take orders, Satoru obliges. He slides his fingers out, rubbing them together to feel your slippery juices coating the length of them. Quietly, he leads them up to your face, tapping against your lower lip. Your face feels hot and never one to disobey, even his silent commands; you wrap your lips obediently around his two digits, moaning at the taste of your own sweetness. You eagerly suck on them, tongue dragging between and along each finger. Satoru watches with complete fascination, lips parting slightly in admiration. Fuck, even prettier when you suck on his fingers like some needy creature. Your lips are snug around his fingers, sliding off until there’s an audible pop and all you can taste is yourself, a string of saliva connecting from your lips to his fingers.

“Fucking hell… No condom, right?” Satoru hastily asks, eager to get going. Usually, neither of you wants the use of a condom, but it’s sweet that he still asks you. “Nn, make love to me and breed me, handsome.” You whisper, arms snaking around his neck. A string of curses falls from his lips, adjusting himself against the mattress. He guides your leg further up and around his waist, giving him access to position the tip of his throbbing erection against your pussy. Unable to resist, he grinds slowly to feel his length rub between your folds, enjoying the sensation. “Satoru.” You whine, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

A low chuckle escapes. “Impatient.” He scoffs lightly, though soon positioning himself properly; the head of his cock pressing against your tight entrance. One hand rests against your bare thigh, holding your leg against his waist and he leans in to rest his forehead against yours. His eyes meet yours, coaxing your heart into beating faster. You keep your body relaxed as much as you can, knowing that it’s always going to be a stretch with him. “I love you..” Satoru says quietly and before you could respond, he presses his hips forward and you feel the head of his length push in until finally, his cock sinks into you, stretching your snug tight walls out completely. A silent cry is ripped out of you, hopelessly clinging onto his muscular body, nails digging into his back.

No matter how many times you both sleep together. The stretch of your walls always feels so new, the pleasurable feeling becoming addicting. He groans quietly, forehead still pressed against yours as your slick-covered walls clench around his throbbing cock. Your breath mixes with his as you both pant. His hand on your thigh caresses soothingly to ease your body back into relaxing, cause fuck sometimes he swears if it wasn’t for his amazing stamina; he might come like some virgin feeling pussy for the first time. You’re so tight. Amazingly tight. Warm, too. He wants to keep himself buried inside of you at all times, if he could.

You keep your arms wrapped around him, leg hooked around his waist and a breathless moan of his name leaves your tiers when you feel him start to move, his cock thrusting slowly. The white-haired male’s fingertips dig into the flesh of your thigh, the other arm wrapped around your middle, between your body and the mattress. He groans, feeling your tight walls drag around his cock as if your body alone is refusing the mere idea of not being able to feel his throbbing thickness. Satoru keeps his thrusts slow and deep, refusing to go too rough. Maybe it’s silly but, he genuinely wants to show his love for you and if it means not doing the usual eagerness to break you in; he’ll do the opposite. Besides, his heart feels elated to just exist along with you. To connect with you.

You both embrace each other lovingly, your hand rubbing along his back and enjoying the gentle waves of pleasure that leave you all tingly, toes curling. His cock refuses to go halfway. No, he slides all the way out, hips pushed back before slowly pushing in until you feel full to the brim, hand against your lower stomach to feel it bulge from his thickness. No one’s ever reached so far. He grunts when you push down, feeling your walls wrap tight around his slick-covered cock, prompting him to tighten his hold on you as a pitiful way to contain himself. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He pants out, leaning forward to scatter light yet loving kisses all over your face, smiling when you giggle between your needy whines.

“You’re— ah.. more beautiful… love you so much..” You manage to mewl out, eyes rolling when you feel the head of his cock meeting that sweet spot every time he thrusts into you deeply. Drunk off of the pleasure, all you can do is cling to him, babbling out your love for him between moans. Your sweet reactions, along with your tight womanhood; make it so difficult for him to keep it slow, hips stuttering as you squeeze around him. “Fucking hell..” Satoru moans out, letting go of your thigh to take hold of your hand. His eyes fixated on the sapphire ring, pressing a tender kiss to it. You witness the sweet gesture and your heart just melts for this man. For Gojo Satoru.

You should never have doubted him. Why would he ever leave you when he makes love to you so sweetly? When his kisses leave you breathless and positively dizzy? When he goes out of his way to make a romantic dinner. You forgave him that night. The second you saw him holding onto his knees and panting heavily. He tried to make it in time. Even if it did hurt you. At least, he promised work won’t ever get in the way of your love journey anymore. You love him. You’re so in love with this man that you’d die for him. Not that he’d ever let that happen. With the overwhelming love and pleasure, the tears that made your eyes sting, spill down your cheeks.

“Pretty girl.” Satoru laughs, letting go of your hand to tenderly cup your cheek, thumb wiping away the tears. It didn’t stop him from fucking you deep. Utterly endeared by you, Satoru leans in to capture your lips with his own, kissing you sweetly. He didn’t care about the saltiness of your tears mixing with the lingering taste of your juices as he kissed you, lips moving against yours and tongue easily sliding into your mouth. Your moans are muffled, responding to the kiss with eagerness as you begin to roll your hips, meeting each of his heavy thrusts and squeezing so tightly around him. It’s like constant jolts of ecstasy that leave you tingling and crying into the kiss, loving the feeling of his length stretching you out.

“F-Faster, ‘Toru, wan’ feel you pump me full.” You whine against his lips, tongue rubbing against his in a lewd manner. It didn’t take much begging, really. You have him wrapped around your pinky and he’s eager to do whatever you crave. He loves you deeply and is even driven by relief that everything worked out between you both. He shouldn’t have worried, knowing you were made for him and he was made for you. Soulmates. His hips begin to snap forward, both arms wrapped around your middle now as he fucks into you, his throbbing cock sliding in and out of you steadily, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the bedroom, laced with heavy panting and loud moans.

Your breasts are unable to bounce from the hard thrusts, pressed against his chest as you both continue to cling, refusing any form of gap. Sweat coats both of your bodies, head tilting back and eyes rolling from feeling his cock pounding into your velvety tightness. You’re so wet because of the white-haired male, that the sounds of squelching are unavoidable. He’s panting heavily, swollen lips dragging along your bare shoulder. You don’t know how much more you could take, desperately trying to hold your orgasm back. “Don’t hold back, Y/N—” Satoru pants out, crystal blue eyes focused on your face and you whimper, face scrunching up.

With his thickness steadily pounding into you, it only takes one more deep thrust to send you swiftly over the edge. You choke on your gasp, nails clawing down his broad back as you desperately try to hold onto him through your orgasm. It crashes into you hard, leaving you breathless and your body feeling electrifying as you tremble hard. Your walls around his thrusting cock clench repeatedly, causing him to grit his teeth and fuck you hard just a bit further, his stomach feeling tight. “Good girl, fuck— so good. Love you— fuck.” He groans loudly before a final thrust has him spilling into you, thighs tensing up and shaking. Satoru holds you against his body, keeping his cock buried deep inside of your hole as ropes of sticky cum shoot from the tip of his cock and fill you up.

You feel even more full, not thinking it could be possible. You moan out sweetly, feeling a complete daze as you slump against the tall male. His hands are gentle as they caress along your bare back, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder between his heavy pants. Slowly, he continues to thrust into you, riding out his orgasm. His cum now paints your inner walls white and sticky, dragging along his length. Your leg manages to stay hooked around his waist, head dropping onto the pillow as you sigh happily. Quietly, Satoru makes movement to slide out of you. You refuse it by squeezing around his length in warning. You love the feeling of being so full of him.

“Stay inside of me..” You mumble out shyly, refusing to meet his stunning blue eyes. His gaze softens with the love he holds for you and naturally, he stops. Cock-warming? He wouldn't refuse staying inside of your tight pussy. He lays down properly next to you, head sharing the same pillow. Blindly, he finds hold of your hand, thumb caressing the ring momentarily before he laces his long fingers with yours to give a squeeze. Your eyes meet his and you smile, leaning in to peck his lips. Satoru leans in, craving to kiss you further and you giggle softly. Everything feels good between you both now. Comforting to know, that you both made up to each other and no insecure thoughts linger in your mind. You love each other; that is definitely proven.

You couldn’t wait to spend eternity with this man, Gojo Satoru.

[unholybacon355]

Kinktober Day 5 - Park Jihyo x M! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Your wife's big breasts were fully exposed to you. She was laying on the king size bed you shared, with her torso completely naked and a lovely expression on her face. You also could see how big her tummy was now, since she was entering the third trimester of her pregnancy. She was reading one of those books about how to be a good parent and other stuff that nobody prepared you before this situation, but she immediately left the book aside when you entered the room. 

Wasn't necessary for you to say anything more than hello to Jihyo to let her notice that your mood was down. “ What happened?” She asked, opening her arms waiting for you to hug her. You take your jacket off before joining her on the bed, connecting on a slow and lovely kiss. 

“Just problems at work. Some idiots completely messed up and seem like we are losing a big client.” You hugged her carefully putting your arm over her belly.

“That’s terrible, but isn’t your fault. So why the long face?”

“I gonna need to work a lot if we want to keep that client. The company cannot afford losing it so they chose me to work on a new proposal.” You kiss your wife again. “ I don´t wanna let you alone more than necessary, especially now, that’s the matter.”

“Oh don’t worry Honey, my sister can come to make me company if I need something. Now we should celebrate that they chose you. Who wants a special treat?” You smiled at her knowing exactly what she meant.

“Me. I want all I can take.” 

“So come and take it, Honey.” Your wife smiled back while settling better on the bed. You also changed position descending to face her huge breast, now bigger because she was pregnant,  with your mouth already salivating as you moved close to her.

Your breath stimulated and stiffed her right nipple, while you started rolling the other one into your finger. Your mouth could barely contain her large areola but you loved it, also now you just need to focus on the center. Soon your lips were glued to her nipple and you started sucking gently.

Just needed little effort on your part to make the milk start emanating from Jihyo’s nipple. Their breasts were already so full of the white liquid that was so easy to make them pour it directly on your mouth.

Some could find the taste of human milk disgusting, but for you was the best thing that ever had gone down your throat. The taste of Jihyo´s milk was flooding your senses, stimulating you to suck more and more in order to take all that your wife had to offer you. Suddenly you were feeling famelic, as if you had not taken any meal during the day, and the only thing capable of satisfying your hunger was the milk coming out of your wife’s nipple. 

Of course this act that for a big majority of people was very twisted, but for you two was very arousing instead. Your shaft was already so hard that your pants barely could contain it, and you were pretty sure that your wife had a mess between her legs. Reason why your hand left her other nipple and instead were down till the hem of her pajama shorts. You ran your fingers through her bush and quickly found the hot spot that was her cunt. In fact her folds were already so sticky and slippery with her own glassed that was so easy for you to insert two fingers between them. Jihyo's moans were not long in coming and she began to use her voice to let you know that you were hitting the right spot. But it was hard to know if she was more aroused for your finger or because of your mouth actions. 

“Easy, don't waste anything,” Jihyo took with her finger a drop of milk that ran out of your mouth and cleaned it using her tongue, savoring the taste of her own breast milk. “Be.. Patient. There is a lot of milk for you.” She said between moans because the movement of your fingers was really affecting her. You could feel your hand covered in her cunt juices, and how her slick began to stain her bush and shorts.

“Y-yes…” Jihyo put a hand on your head caressing you with her finger and preventing you to be apart of her brown nipple. “Be a good boy and drink it al…” She wasn't able to end the sentence because you added a truth finger inside her pussy, causing her to moan even louder.  

The feeling of her warm milk flooding your mouth and going down through your throat, convinced with her walls squeezing and clenching around your fingers was heavenly. Your hand was moving as fast as you could inside her pajama making filthy wet sounds along with the ones your mouth over her nipple was doing. All combined with Jihyo’s powerful moans. 

Your wife was reduced to a whimpering mess and all was because you were sucking her tiddie, drinking her holy milk. And stuffing your finger inside her wet cunt at the speed of light. But you couldn’t blame her because your own shaft was so hard that it started to leak pre cum for its head. Also making a mess inside your pants. 

She could no longer elaborate a sentence since she was just moaning and opening her legs as much as she could. While pressing your head against her big breast, forcing more of her nipple and milk inside your mouth. Suddenly you feel like it is raining over your hand and your wife's body starts to shake in the middle of a big orgamns. She was squirting in your hand making a mess even bigger and completely ruining her pajama shorts. Maybe the bed sheets too. 

You keep stuffing your fingers inside her hairy pussy during her orgasm, like she loves it, and drinking her milk. Once her tremors calm down and she releases your head you take your finger out of her wet cunt and let it go to her nipple with a big pop! sound. “I love you.” You say after dearly kissing Jihyo on the mouth..

“Love you too Honey.” She said once her breath was kinda normal again. “But I want milk too and look like you have some for me.” She added greedily looking at the tent on your pants.

[janeyseymour]

The Artist in Me

Summary: a request from a LONG time ago. Reader is the upper grades art teacher, but when the lower grades art teacher has to leave, Reader ends up taking over the arts for the entire school.

WC: ~3.45k

By some Grace of God, Abbott Elementary has it in the budget this year to hire a second art teacher. And you, after leaving your old school due to issues with the principal, were able to snag the position to teach the upper levels of the school.

In the time that you’ve been at Abbott, you mostly keep to yourself upstairs and throw yourself into providing the best education that you can for these kids. Despite being a related arts teacher, you’re also able to integrate different core subjects into your teaching, and you love being able to help enrich students with information that they might not get otherwise.

You’ve also made yourself out to be a bit tougher- the younger elementary art teacher is all sunshine and rainbows, and you can’t find it in you to be like that. So, you’ve gotten the reputation as the hard-ass of the related arts programs. You don’t really care. Some of these kids need discipline, and as long as they’re doing what they’re supposed to (and not trying to eat the clay you have for pottery projects), you really aren’t that tough.

The other thing is… your principal isn’t all that fond of you. You can’t quite figure out why though. You’re always on time, you’re prepared, you stay professional. It is what it is, you suppose. So, you keep to yourself, and you don’t really mind it. You’ve always been a bit more introverted and quiet, yet not timid. The only times you really see any of the other teachers is if you walk past them in the hallways or during a faculty meeting.

During those faculty meetings, you tend to doodle. All of the things that Ava speaks of either don’t relate to you, or they pertain to trainings you’ve already taken care of. You look up at her and her slides every once in a while, just to give off the illusion that you’re paying attention, but after diligently listening to the first meeting, you realized you didn’t have to do that to keep your job.

So, instead… you draw. You draw still lives of the library, you doodle up little flowers and other scenes, and then you take to drawing portraits. You have about a dozen drawings of your own face before you decide that maybe you should attempt another subject. So, your eyes wander around the room. Your gaze immediately focuses in on the beautiful red hair that is sitting with the one group of teachers that Ava always seems to chat with during her free time, which is conveniently a lot.

Melissa, you think that’s her name, rolls her eyes at something ridiculous that comes out of your boss’s mouth, and then she turns to another teacher and fake yawns. You only get a glimpse of her eyes for a moment, but in that second, you’re captivated. They’re a stunning shade of green, and you could swear you could see the little specks of gold in them too. You spend the rest of this pointless faculty meeting trying to get a sketch of her eyes just right.

The next faculty meeting that you find yourself dragging yourself into, you pick a seat where you can see Melissa fully. And… damn. The second grade teacher has quite a figure, and her face is beautiful. You spend most of that meeting drawing the redhead as she props herself up with her elbow. You’re just perfecting the glasses that hang off Melissa’s nose when you hear your name.

“And since we are losing Miss Lee so suddenly, Y/N will be taking over all of the art classes until I can find a replacement,” Ava sighs.

Your eyes widen, and you can feel every other staff member’s eyes on you. “I- Ava, what?”

“You heard me,” your boss shrugs. “Miss Lee is moving away next week, so you’ll have the entire school.” She then continues on about another topic- one entirely unrelated to the absolute bomb that she just dropped on you.

You glance to your lower grades art teacher and give her a questioning look. She just frowns and shakes her head, a tear falling down her face silently.

You spend the rest of the meeting trying to wrap your head around the fact that you are now in charge of the entire art curriculum, and your doodling of the redheaded teacher’s emerald eyes is put on pause.

It feels like an eternity before that meeting is over, but as soon as it is, your coworker is apologizing profusely to you.

“Y/N,” Miss Lee sighs softly. “I’m so sorry. I- I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I just haven’t had the time while trying to prep everything and come up with a way for you to be able to teach everyone.”

“What’s going on?” you ask her quietly as the two of you make it out of the library and into the hall.

“I’m leaving,” is all she tells you. “I- It’s for the best… if I want to live.”

“Soph,” your jaw drops. 

“Just… trust me, okay?” your coworker wipes a tear away. “C’mon. I’ve already come up with a schedule for you. You’ll have two classes at a time, but they’ll all be doing relatively similar things, so… I had the rest of this year planned too, so… hopefully this won’t be too difficult for you.”

You allow yourself to drop your act of not quite caring for your coworkers and squeeze the woman’s elbow gently. You don’t miss the way she flinches- it would be hard to. You immediately know why she’s leaving with such urgency.

“Don’t worry about me,” you tell her softly. “Just… keep yourself safe, yeah?”

“I’m gonna do my best,” Sophie grimaces. “If we meet during our preps the rest of this week, I can help you prepare.”

You nod. “And- and if you need any help with anything, I know we aren’t close, but… I’m here for you.”

As you transition into teaching the entire school for art classes, Sophia helps you as much as possible. You begin to combine classes, and you’re quite thankful that every teacher is a fan of your coworker’s, because they don’t ask questions about her leaving, and they are more than supportive of this decision. Although, those that don’t usually make it to the second floor aren’t necessarily thrilled about the trek they have to take to come up to your room. They just give your coworker a sad smile as they know it will probably be one of the last times they see her before she heads out and on her own. You continue to offer your support to Sophia as the days stretch on.

But she never asks for help. Instead, she whole-heartedly throws herself into helping to prepare you the best she can- everything from lugging materials up to your room to ensuring that what you’re having the older students do at least somewhat lines up with what she was planning for her younger students to make life even the slightest bit easier on you. 

And after Friday, it’s like she never existed. She completely goes off the grid. You can only hope that she’s alright in her endeavors.

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve taken over the arts for your school. You feel like you’re up to your eyeballs in clay, paint, paper mache, and pretty much any other art supply that would be able to stick to your body. You’re exhausted, to say the least. The days where your preps used to consist of cleaning up your room and settling in with a nice book are gone, and they’ve been replaced with a preparation period of running around trying to set everything up while also grading the elders’ art essays, firing up the kiln, scrubbing down tables from glue that the kindergarten and first grade students managed to get everywhere… it’s ridiculous. While you used to leave right as the teachers’ bell rang, you’re stuck staying late, and you usually come in at least an hour early to ensure that everything is as organized as it can be before your hurricanes you call students run amuck in your space. And if you’re being honest, you’ve had enough. 

So, while you should probably be preparing for the next… what feels like ever, you take your preparation period to head down to the teachers lounge and actually relax for once. You already worked through your lunch- you deserve this. 

As it would turn out, your preparation time is when the group that your boss loves has lunch. How convenient for them to all have lunch at the same time…

You give them a small wave as you practically drag your exhausted body over to the refrigerator to grab the small lunch you packed yourself this morning. You take a seat that’s somewhat distanced from the group and begin to eat.

You don’t even realize how tired you are until your eyes begin to droop and your head begins to lull forward. You have to catch yourself with a small gasp before you smack you face on the table. Of course, that draws attention to you, and your face turns about as red as Melissa Schemmenti’s hair.

“Oi,” the woman lets out a small chuckle. “Work wearing you down lately?”

You just nod as you continue to feed yourself from the tiny bag of pretzels you packed.

“Of course she’s exhausted,” another voice pipes up- Barbara Howard’s. “Who wouldn’t be exhausted after taking over art classes for the entire school. Oh dear, have you heard from Sophia at all?”

You shake your head silently before just barely offering up, “And I doubt I will. She left pretty abruptly, and from what I could tell, her situation was pretty serious.”

“Well, we do thank you for helping our classes,” Barb tells you with a sad smile. “As much as we hated to see Miss Lee go, our students are still going to get a fine arts education because of you.”

“I’m doing my best,” you sigh quietly as you finish off the rest of your pretzels. You nod to yourself as you close your bag and take another deep breath. You go to stand from your place at the table, but you find yourself seeing a few black spots in your vision. You force yourself to sit down again.

“You alright there?” Melissa asks, clearly at least a little concerned.

You nod. “Just a little tired is all.”

The green eyes that you still haven’t gotten quite right in your sketches stare into your soul for a split second. “Is that all you had to eat today?”

You shrug. “Don’t have much around the house.”

“No wonder you’re on the verge of passing out,” she rolls her eyes. Before you know it, she has a plate in front of you and is spooning some of her meal out onto it for you.

“This is yours,” you say quietly, in protest.

She dares you to challenge her as she continues to ration out her food. “And I also don’t need you passing out today… my kids have art later.”

You look to her, as if to see if she’s testing you or something. She just looks to the food pointedly and then back to you.

With a sigh, you thank her and begin to eat. “You didn’t have to,” you tell her softly.

The redhead shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. I blame it on my being Italian.”

The rest of your lunch is spent trying to subtly stare at Melissa Schemmenti’s eyes in order to perfectly capture how to draw them in your sketchbook.

When you’re finished, you sigh softly and thank her again before heading for the door.

“You should start having lunch with us if you can,” Janine tells you. “If we’re going to be working with you now, we should probably get to know you, right?”

You bite your lip nervously, thinking. Doing that would give you the perfect opportunity to observe the second grade teacher. You would probably be able to capture not only her eyes then, but different looks of hers, aside from just a standard sort of portrait. You nod. “Y-yeah. If I can fit it into my schedule, I’ll try to start coming down.”

When the redhead brings her class up to your room, she has a mug of coffee in hand too. Silently, you wish that you had a cup of coffee for yourself. The proper meal that you had helped to bring your energy up a bit, but the coffee would certainly be a nice pick me up. Maybe you can convince her to bring you one for when she picks up her-

The mug is being offered to you with the closest thing to a smile you’ve seen out of the tough teacher. “Thought you might like the pick-me-up.”

You tilt your head to the side, touched by this small but sweet gesture. “Thank you.” You take the mug gratefully, allowing the warmth of the steaming liquid to warm your cool to the touch hands.

Green eyes are rolled with a hint of a smirk dancing on her lips. 

Your days go by much nicer when you’re able to join that little crew for meals. They’re actually a lot nicer than you expected them to be. Melissa continues to bring you food, claiming that you’re actually helping her by eating some of the portions because she only knows how to cook for twelve. And when you aren’t able to make it down to the staff lounge, preoccupied with prepping new units for your classes, the second grade teacher makes her way up to you and sits with you while you continue to flit around the room and try to get everything in order. She continues to bring you cups of coffee on days where her class has art, and when her friends have art too, they usually come up with a mug and a soft, “from Melissa.”

As time goes on, you begin to show your less professional side- the side that your friends see. The Abbott crew begins to welcome it warmly, seeing that you aren’t as stuffy as you play. And in doing that, your boss begins to take more of a liking to you as well. It makes working at this school much easier. The only thing that is becoming more and more difficult as you integrate yourself into this school is the growing infatuation you have with a certain redheaded second grade teacher. She shamelessly flirts with you now, and you find yourself reciprocating quite often.

Since growing closer to the quirky little group, you have doodles of almost all of them down to a science. But there’s still one person who you can’t get quite right. Melissa Schemmenti. And for the amount of time you spend watching her and smiling with her, she should’ve been the first person you drew at the school to perfect. But you just aren’t satisfied. Or maybe you don’t want to be satisfied, because then that means you don’t really have a reason to sketch her anymore.

You’re sitting at one of the tables in the library while Ava drones on about God knows what. Your sketchbook sits in your lap as you continue to try to get her look just right- the way her eyes sparkle and her glasses sit on the tip of her nose as she clearly doesn’t pay attention to what your boss is going on about.

There’s something about this drawing that has you thinking you might just get it right this time. And because you have that feeling, you start to focus so intensely on your art that you don’t notice the meeting going on around you ends. In fact, you’re only made aware of the ending of the meeting when you feel a familiar hand on your shoulder.

“Wow,” is all she breathes softly as she looks at what you’re working on. “Is that… is that me?”

Instinctively, you try to slam your sketchbook shut. You can’t believe you got so into the zone that you didn’t realize the faculty meeting was over, and you really can’t believe you were just caught in the act of sketching your coworker.

“No,” Melissa says. “Open it back up. I want to see.”

You shake your head and try to stand.

“C’mon, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” the redhead tells you.

You just shake your head again as you head out of the library, refusing to make eye contact with her. You practically sprint up to your classroom and shut the door behind you. Your cheeks burn, and your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest.

Your coworker doesn’t try to approach you right after the meeting. Instead, she waits until her lunch period. You don’t come down, just as she predicted. So she brings you up the portion that she brought for you. As she expected, you don’t turn when she enters your room, instead focusing all of your attention on the papers in front of you and trying to grade essays.

“You ain’t coming down?” her gravelly voice asks you.

You just wave your hand as you continue to bite at the tip of your pen. “Gotta grade,” you tell her from the little corner of your room that has a bean bag.

Green eyes glance over at your desk, and right there is your sketchbook on your desk.

“I’ll just set your stuff over on your desk then,” she says slowly as she toys with the idea of peeking at it.

You just nod along, entirely forgetting that your book is sitting there and open to the page that you were working on during the meeting this morning.

You hear her heels clicking against the tile to your desk, but you don’t hear them walking away. Only then do you look up and see that she’s once again looking at your sketchbook. And then you watch her flip a page, and you’re mortified.

The previous page is quite literally just you trying to get her eyes right- something that you finally achieved last night.

“Hun, this is-“ she’s going to say incredible, but you all but tackle her to get your book back.

“Please stop looking at my things,” you say sharply as you grab the book from her clutch.

“Have you been drawing me during faculty meetings?” she asks you as she takes the book back into her hands. At this point, she’s holding it just out of your reach, and you know she’s already seen your work, so it’s futile to try to hide the sketchpad from her.

“I’ve been sketching a lot of things lately,” you sigh as she flips through.

Her eyes gaze over the still life of the library, of your classroom, of the portraits of your coworkers, but she looks at you with a furrowed brow.

“A lot of these are of me,” she notes quietly.

You worry your bottom lip through your teeth. “I’ve been trying to get your eyes right,” you manage. “They’re a bit more complicated than the others- brown eyes, green eyes, you know?”

The redhead continues to scan your sketchbook. There’s doodle after doodle.

“You’re real good,” she whispers as she allows her fingers to gently trace the pencil marks in your book. “Like… you shouldn’t be an art teacher, but an actual artist good.”

You blush. “I ain’t that good.”

“You are,” she promises you, and her green eyes look into your own. “But if you need help getting my eyes right, you can always just ask.” She looks up at you through those long lashes, and then her eyes flit down to your lips.

“M-maybe,” you whisper, your own eyes glancing down at hers, as you lick your lip subconsciously.

“I’m honored you would try this hard to get my eyes right,” the second grade teacher says softly as she moves just the slightest bit closer. 

You give her a nervous smile. “A beautiful thing deserves to be captured just right.”

“I’d say you captured my eyes nicely,” Melissa mumbles as she allows her hand to cup your cheek.

“Oh?” you raise a brow. “Can I try to capture something else of yours?”

“And what would that be?” You can practically feel Melissa’s breath on your lips.

As you give into your desire to kiss her, you mutter, “Your heart.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie

[gothic-thoughts]

Shameless

Sukuna Ryomen x Black Fem Reader Smut

MDNI, Enemies2Acquaintences, King!Sukuna, Knight!Reader,

CW: rough sex, dirty talking, 💦ing, unprotected cream🥧, implied 😻 eating, on the bed, against the wall

TW: blackmail

Word Count: 1828 (give or take)

"For someone that claims to hate me you seem to always find your way back to my castle."

(Y/n) squints at him before groaning heavily and hanging her head in annoyance. She looked up at him, knowing that bargaining was futile, but unfortunately, she was the only one brave enough to speak to Sukuna and return outside unscathed. His only request was that she come alone.

"I do hate you. You're a tyrant and a brute with no sense of mortals or human life. I loathe you as a king and individual."

The King of Curses chuckles, "And it is entertaining to say the least."

"You're unbearable."

"The last human to say that I turned them into a puddle, you should be praising my generosity, but I digress. You are here because I overheard your little plan with those friends of yours."

(Y/n gasps softly, before composing herself.

"I came to make a deal with you."

He smirks evilly, "Really now?" He sits up straight on his throne, "Never pegged you as the type to negotiate. I'm intrigued by the thought of what you could possibly offer me in return for any of your friends' foolish lives."

"That's what I came to ask; what would you want in return?"

"Hmm..."

"Something sensible, Sukuna. I'm not killing or allowing you to kill anyone."

He leans back in his chair, feigning empathy in an exaggerated pout.

"Last I checked, you were desperate enough to come to me for help. Not vice versa."

"So what...?"

"Beggers can't be choosers, now can they? With that said, you don't seem to be in any position to be making demands."

"I don't have to do this. But your help is the best way we can win this war without losing more than half our people."

"Oh. If that's all, then no."

"Thank-- I- wait what? Did you just say no?"

"If you don't have to, little one, then I don't either. I should just send you on your way."

"What?"

He stood up from the large golden throne and walked down the stairs in the opposite direction. His boots reach the floor and as he prepares to walk down the halls of his castle, (Y/n) gives in.

"Alright! Fine, fine, just tell me what you want and we'll go from there!"

He chuckles, knowing he won. He turned on his heels and walked closer and closer to the mortal woman, stepping around and behind her, holding her against his strong, body. His breath ghosted the shell of her ear making her tense with fear.

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"How dare you."

"Was it not you that said killing was off the table?" He whispered in her ear, "Other than that, dear I don't desire much else. I already have a kingdom, an army, immense power that your mortal brain will never comprehend... My only desire left is to bed you."

"Absolutely not."

"The way I see it, I am quite the saint for helping you. The only thing I ask in return is to break your puny mortal imagination with ecstasy."

"Pick. something. else. I am not fucking you."

"So vulgar. But in that case, I'll be happy to send you back. Let me know where you're ready."

She stutters in confusion before groaning heavily in exasperation.

"Fine, just know I would never do this if the world wasn't at stake."

"Sticks and stones."

"Let's just get it over with."

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

After making a meal of the sweetness between her thighs, I stand from my bed and lick my lips clean, savoring every last second as it fades from my taste buds. I stared down at (Y/n)'s trembling form as she panted lightly, knowing she was glaring right back, focusing on every flexing muscle on my upper body making me chuckle at her lack of subtlety.

"Staring is impolite but I won't stop you."

(Y/n)'s cheeks burn with embarrassment, "Fuck off, it's not like I've been devoured by a fucking god before."

"I can tell."

"Whatever, we're finished here."

"Finished?" I chuckle, "I haven't reached my climax yet, darling."

"What, but you said my pleasure!"

"I can't help myself, I have the desire to stretch you apart. Don't worry, I plan to keep my promise after the deal is sealed. But, of course, that implies that they've been sealed first..."

"Ugh. Fine, whatever just...."

She sighed heavily in exasperation before she propped herself on her elbows, boldly staring at me as she spread her beautiful legs apart to reveal her delicious dripping parts to me.

"Just hurry up and get it over with..."

I give a cocky smirk at her newfound eagerness as I rip my pants from my body, making my 10 inches of girth flop out. (Y/n)'s eyes widen, legs tensing in fear as I climb across the bed, large, heavy cock bouncing with every movement until my hips are settled between her deliciously plump thighs. I rub the head of my shaft along her sensitive, saliva-slick bud before I push it past the tight, clenching entrance. Her hole seemed to be already struggling to take it in, but the expression on her face told me she was in pleasure-filled pain.

"All I did was slide in the tip."

"It's just a little th-thick..."

"Hm, but I'm only 3 inches in. Since I 'like' you, I'll be nice this once."

"W-what? What do you--"

"Let's try for at least 6. And don't worry, I don't break the toys I intend to play with for longer than a night."

Before she can question me, anymore, I grab her right hip to hold her still while guiding a few more inches into her, watching as it stretches her hole wider and wider with each new inch. I finally stopped once my tip was pressed tight against her cervix and looked down at her blissed-out face, eyes scanning down to where she was stretched around me.

"S-Shit...."

"Don't tell me you're done already, Lady (Y/n). I've seen you get stabbed worse than this."

"Shut the hell up and just m-move already."

I smile evilly. My hips draw back before plunging back into her, making her throw her head back into my mattress and pull at my sheets. I raise my eyebrows at the sensitivity of her body making the situation that much more surreal. I laugh at the feeling of her pussy desperately clenching around me as her gasps adorably morph into moans. I wrap my hand around her throat, holding tightly to see how her moans sound when her air's been restricted.

"You make the most delicious sounds, (Y/n)."

"Sh-shut... Ngh, y-you don't get to call me that."

"Do you like it?"

"I- ngh... N-no~"

"Well that can't be the truth since you're moaning so very loudly. Tell me honestly; your friends are not here to judge." I lean down to whisper in her ear, "And trust that this night will stay to me, alone."

She wraps her ankles around my waist, inevitably pulling me a couple of inches deeper as she tightens around me and reaches her clmax with a yelp. I looked down at where we were connected and saw a patch of slick on my pelvis. Hmm, that was...mmm. After making sure I had a good grip on her body, I moved our activity across the room and pinned her against the wall, continuing to thrust with my heavy balls slapping and grinding against the plush of her ass with every stroke.

"F-fuck, hah~!" She panted.

"How the mighty have fallen, I recall you saying that you hated me."

"I-- f-fuck- do."

"Oh but darling, that implies you hate all of me. But look at you, against the wall in my room, gushing on my cock. You talk so big, that's what I like about you really."

"Sh-shut up."

"I'd admire your stubbornness more if it wasn't bordering on stupidity. But I do admire this body and brain of yours, not broken yet despite roughly taking 10 inches of a god like it's nothing."

With a raised eyebrow, I push the last inch of my cock inside of (Y/n)'s and make her drop her head to my shoulder. She uses all her willpower to lift her head and look me in the eyes while weakly attempting to push against my hips but she's so weak from pleasure it only makes my hips go faster to spite her efforts.

"Where are you going? You're off the ground, darling, you can't run from me."

"F-fuck~!"

"Hm, someone has seemed to go dumb. What happened to that attitude you had when you entered my castle? What happened to that?"

"Y-You fuckin' bastard..."

"You just needed me to fuck it out, didn't you? Don't worry, wench, I'll fuck you back to a state where you can watch your tongue a little better."

"Sukuna~!"

I continue drilling into her hole, watching as her enchanting eyes swell with ecstasy-filled tears before rolling back into her skull. I take her back to the bed, placing her ankles on my shoulders and thrusting deeper, even taking it upon myself to softly kiss her calves when she suddenly gushes again making her cunt even easier to slip into while she convulsed and screamed my name.

"There we go, ugh~ even better. that feels really good. It's been forever since I had such a willful, tight lover in my bed."

I start to lose my own mind at the feeling so I grab the headboard to find some semblance of control while she looks for some herself by tugging at the sheets, and babbling incoherently underneath me.

"Will you give me the honor of being the first mortal I happily give my seed to? I need to hear you say it cuz I'm getting ready to put my seed deep inside your womb so you can be mine.”

My cock starts to throb, dripping more and more precum inside her with every slow deep thrust. My lips ghost the shell of her ear while I pant and whine about how good she feels squeezing the life out of my cock. (Y/n)'s breathy whine makes me chuckle between more deep thrusts.

"You ready, mortal?"

"Uh-huh, p-please..."

"That's more like it~” I bury my face into her neck, kissing at the love bite I left earlier, "Ooh that's it."

My balls tense finally ready as hot, thick cum rushes inside her walls, filling up all the space. (Y/n) claws at my back as she trembles underneath at the sudden heat rushing through her insides.

"Oh yesss..." I moaned, "Take it, mmh, take it all just like that, little one."

"Sh-shit, too much...."

"Shh, I know you can.”

My seemingly endless stream of my divine cum continued filling her insides to the brim, making her lower stomach bulge out from the amount I grind into her pussy, sealing every last drop inside. (Y/n) head lolls on the pillows, her mind trying to produce more thoughts or insults as some cum started to seep out in trickles down her thighs. A few more spurts of cum were shot inside and I sighed, finally finished and panting.

"There we are. Now I feel more inclined to help you."

[ninii-winchester]

Trust In Ashes

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 2.7k

Warnings : angst, alot of angst, demons, blood, violence, slight spoilers but not exactly following plot, language, mentions of injuries, dean(?) I’m sure he’ll never do anything like this but wtv, not proofread.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

The fluorescent lights of the cramped motel room flickered as Sam sat hunched over his laptop, the glow illuminating his focused expression. His fingers danced across the keyboard, searching for any leads on unusual supernatural activity. It had been a slow week for the Winchesters, but something was nagging at the back of Sam's mind.

After a few moments of scanning through local news sites, he stumbled upon a small article dated just a couple of days ago. The headline sent a chill down his spine: "Strange Occurrences in Willow Creek: Locals Report Electrical Disturbances and Missing Pets." He clicked on the link, his eyes darting over the text.

He glanced at the couple snoozing in bed, Y/n leans back against Dean, who wraps his arms around her in a protective embrace. The warm glow of a nearby lamp casts a gentle light over them, highlighting the content look on their faces. Their legs are tangled together, and they shift slightly to find the perfect position. Dean buries his face into her soft hair, breathing in the familiar scent, while the she relaxes into his embrace. 

Sam knew the news definitely had something to do with demons, the omens were there, he just wanted to wait for the couple to have a good sleep before they got on the road. Things have been tense with the apocalypse looming and the two angelic brothers wanting to jump Sam and Dean. The thought of being a vessel to Satan himself was something that made Sam uneasy. He almost never wanted to think of the repercussions of him saying yes to him, sometimes he felt his resolve waver but Dean and Y/n kept him grounded, even he was ever going to lose himself and say yes to Lucifer he was sure Dean would never allow Michael to take over his body and cause the end of the world.

As he shifted in his chair, the mattress creaked under Dean's weight. Sam turned slightly, watching them. Dean's brow furrowed in sleep, his protective instincts still active even in slumber. Y/n's hair fell across her face like a curtain, shielding her from the worries that had plagued them for weeks. Suddenly, a soft rustling from the bed drew his attention. Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Sam? What's going on?" she asked taking in his distraught expression, her voice laced with sleep but edged with concern.

"Just some strange happenings in Willow Creek," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Electrical issues and missing pets. I think it's connected to something... supernatural."

"Demons." Dean quipped waking up, his eyes fluttering open as he stretched. Sam nods in agreement as he was thinking the same.

“Willow Creek’s not far from here, actually. If we leave soon, we can get there by nightfall,” Sam replied, glancing over at Dean and Y/n. He knew they needed rest, but time was of the essence.

Dean’s hand found Y/n’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What do you think, sweetheart. You up for a little demon hunting?” His smirk was faint, but the affection in his eyes was unmistakable. His first instinct was to keep her out of danger but he would never ask her to stay back. Y/n offered a sleepy smile and nodded, though she couldn’t ignore the knot forming in her stomach.

Sam quickly packed up his laptop, his expression hardening as he prepared for the road ahead. The looming apocalypse was a weight that hung over them all, a constant reminder of what was at stake. But now all their focus was on whatever that was waiting for them in Willow Creek.

The drive to Willow Creek felt fairly short with Dean behind the wheel. Sam took a nap in the backseat while Y/n accompanied Dean in the front. The Impala rumbled to a stop outside a rundown motel on the outskirts of Willow Creek. They walked into the lobby, where a tired-looking receptionist barely lifted her eyes from the old TV on the counter. Dean leaned forward, flashing a charming smile. They got themselves a room with two beds and turned in for the night.

The next morning the trio decided to talk with the townspeople for more information on the unnatural occurrences around the town. They went to see the girl who had reported her pet cat missing. She was teenager named, Alice. She told them that Alice has been missing for days and she had last seen the in her room. Upon investigating the room, Y/n found traces of sulfur on the window sill and even caught a trail. She gestured her head to the boys to follow her. The trio moved through the dense woods just outside Willow Creek.

Y/n clutched a small iron knife, glancing around with cautious eyes, while Dean kept his shotgun at the ready, salt rounds loaded. Sam walked slightly ahead, scanning their surroundings for any signs of demons.

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Y/n murmured, shivering slightly as a cold wind passed through the trees.

“Yeah, something doesn’t feel right,” Dean agreed, his voice low. Just as Sam was about to speak, a few people came out of the trees, ambushing the trio.

“Well well well, look who we have here.” A female said inching closer to the three. “The Winchesters.” Dean narrowed his eyes at the woman and then Sam spoke.

“Meg?” He questioned looking at her curiously. She beamed at him sarcastically and tilted her head to look up at him.

“You recognised me, though i must say this suit is prettier than the last.” She said running her hands through her raven hair.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean growled aiming his gun at her. But she laughed at him, holding out her hand.

“Please Dean, don’t even try.” She closed her hand cutting off Dean’s air supply and making him drop the gun and clutch his neck. Y/n immediately moved to his side trying to help him. Meg quickly released him and he coughed up a bit before she spoke again. “Had to create hell lot of ruckus to get you guys here. But I just need Sam.” She said looking up at the tall man.

“Why?” Sam glared at her, clenching his jaw.

“Oh nothing serious, just need you to say yes to Lucifer.” She replied nonchalantly making the trio rage.

“Like hell we’re letting you take him. Even if you do he won’t say yes.” Y/n snapped.

“You know what, I’m tired of this conversation.” Meg gestured her goons to capture Sam but Dean quickly killed of the demons with the demon blade, while Sam was fighting off other demons, Y/n started to chant the exorcism. “Can’t let you do that, honey.” Meg slapped Y/n making her stop and the latter punched her back.

Dean watched Meg slap Y/n and was distracted momentarily which gave the demon, he was fighting, an upper hand, getting him stabbed in the side. Amidst all chaos, Meg and Demons managed to take Sam and Y/n away. Dean screamed and yelled but they disappeared right in front of his eyes and he leaned against the three holding his wounded side.

Dean managed to go back to the motel and patch himself up. He grabbed a beer bottle from the fridge and gulped it down before thrashing the room. He quickly pulled out his phone and called Bobby. The man answered the call almost immediately.

“Bobby,” Dean breathed. The old man urged him to speak before he lost his mind. “We were on a hunt, me, Sammy and Y/n, it was ploy to get us here. Fucking demons.” Dean growled pulling at his hair as he paced the room. He filled Bobby in on everything that Meg said, and that he was going to lose his mind if he couldn’t find either of them.

“Dean, I think you should call for Castiel. He might be able to locate them.” Bobby suggested and Dean nodded vehemently. He was glad he called Bobby as his brain had completely shut down.

After ending the call Dean continued to pace the room as he called for Castiel. He prayed with his whole chest so the angel would hear him. He desperately needed his help.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel appeared in front of him. The blue eyed man was looking at him curiously as to why he’d called, since he was sure Dean would never change his mind about saying ‘Yes’.

“Castiel, man i need your help. I know I’ve cursed you a bit too much but you gotta forget it all help me.” Dean spoke way to fast for it be coherent but the angel somehow managed. He nodded and asked Dean how he could help. Dean told him everything that’s happened and waited for the angel’s response.

“I would love to help you Dean,…” Castiel spoke and Dean felt like there was a ‘but’ coming in and he was right. “But if Sam says yes then it’s over. You’re gonna have to say yes to Michael.”

“My brother would never say yes to him.” Dean glowered grabbing the angel by the lapels of his trench coat.

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was harsh. “Lucifer’s Demons have got him. You can’t even begin fathom the horrors they could inflict on him to get him to say yes.” Dean gritted his teeth at the mental image that flashed into his mind, he didn’t even want to think of it.

“You’re wasting time, Castiel.” A heavy silence settled in the motel room as Dean shoved his weapons into a duffel bag. Holy water, shotguns with salt, his regular gun and of course the demon blade. If Castiel isn’t going to help him then he’s not going to sit around waiting for a miracle. Two of the most important people in his life have been abducted by demons and he’d be damned if he didn’t do anything about it.

“Dean, I can’t locate them.” Castiel commented after a while and Dean stopped in his tracks.

“What do you mean?” He questioned, his brain already filling with the worst case scenarios.

“They’re probably under sigils, the demons must’ve painted the place to keep them hidden from me. They’re blocking me.” The angel explained and the hunter nodded.

“I’ll find them on my own.” Dean said leaving the motel room and getting into the Impala. He drove around like a madman trying to see anything that resembles a demon’s hideout. It must probably be a warehouse or an abandoned building. Castiel appeared beside Dean in the Impala, scaring him. Dean gave him a curious look.

“I’ll know when my powers are being blocked that way it’ll narrow it down for you.”

Dean gripped the steering wheel of the Impala, the engine roaring in protest as he sped down the winding road, his mind racing with thoughts of Sam and Y/n. Castiel sat in the passenger seat, his expression focused, eyes scanning the landscape as they searched for any sign of the hidden demons.

A few moments later, Castiel pointed out the window. “That abandoned warehouse—there’s a disturbance in the air around it. I can sense the darkness.”

Dean slammed on the brakes, the Impala skidding to a stop in front of the dilapidated building. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “You sure?” And Castiel nodded.

“I’m afraid I can’t go any further.”

Dean looked back at Castiel but nodded, he appreciated him coming along but he wouldn’t waste any more time. Without saying another word he loaded his shotgun and went inside. The walked further inside the dark warehouse and saw Y/n and Sam, tied to chairs and they were both in bad condition. Sam worse than Y/n. All Dean saw was pure rage.

Sam’s whole face was bloodied, the crimson liquid poured from the side of his head, his chest was covered in bruises, while wide gashes ran along his arms. Dean’s heart clenched in his chest as his gaze fell onto Y/n. Her lip was swollen and gashes were visible on her arms as well, he could see a faint fingerprints around her neck, and her forehead had a split, dripping blood onto her cheek. While Sam still wasn’t completely unconscious, Y/n’s head lolled to the side as she succumbed to the darkness.

“Sweetheart,” Dean kneeled in front of her tapping her cheeks lightly. She fluttered her eyes open and he sighed in relief.

“Dean,” she choked smiling painfully but then she remembered, “Sam.” She mumbled looking the side. “Help him.” Dean nodded at her.

“I’ll help him, I’ll help you both.” Dean said moving to untie her hands when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Ooh the hero is here to save the day, huh.” Meg taunted walking towards the trio. Dean turned to glare at her and she smiled.

“A few more hits and he’ll be begging to say yes.” She spoke evilly and Dean shot at her but she dodged it.

“Get him out of here.” Y/n mumbled to Dean. In that moment Dean’s mind was troubled but he knew if he left Sam with them they’d probably torture him enough to say ‘yes’, which will result in the end of the world. His mind kept chanting, ‘Save Sam’ and he knew he had to save his brother.

Dean stood up to his feet and punched Meg, knocking her unconscious, he quickly untied Sam and supported his weight on his shoulder. “I’ll be back for you sweetheart, I promise.” He said to her and she nodded weakly.

“I trust you, Dean.” Was the last thing he heard before he went outside. He quickly threw sat Sam in the backseat of the Impala.

“Castiel heal him.” Dean commanded and Castiel put his fingers over Sam’s forehead but nothing happened.

“I..I can’t.” The man in the trench coat said looking half ashamed and half perplexed. “I think this is some sort of dark magic that I can’t undo. He needs medical help.”

In that moment Dean forgot what else he was supposed to do, who else needed him. His brain kept telling him his brother was dying and he couldn’t let that happen. He forgot that he was supposed to go back inside and save the woman he claimed to love. But in that moment nothing mattered except for the fact that his brother was on the verge of dying and he had to save him. He got into the driver’s seat and drove off towards the hospital.

An hour later, Sam was out of the ER and shifted into a private room, while he slept Dean paced the hallway when Castiel approached him.

“Dean,” he placed a hand on the hunter’s shoulder. The green eyed man turned to the angel who had a sombre look on his face. “I heard Y/n.” All the color drained off of Dean’s face when he heard her name and he realised that he’d abandoned her. “She was calling out my name, even yours, she seemed anguished, pained.” Dean’s breath caught in his throat as Castiel’s words sunk in. Y/n was calling for them—calling for him—and he hadn’t been there to answer. The weight of that realization pressed down on him like a heavy shroud, threatening to suffocate him.

“I can’t hear her anymore,” Castiel continued, his tone grave, eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and concern. “I’m sorry.” The apology felt like a dagger twisting in Dean’s heart. He staggered backward, trying to process the implication of Castiel’s words. He had left Y/n, left her in the hands of demons. Despair washed over him in waves, threatening to pull him under. His mind raced with images of Y/n, her smile, her laughter, now replaced by fear and pain. He had failed her when she needed him most.

He sunk to his knees, the weight of the world crashing down around him. The cold concrete floor felt like a punishment beneath him, a stark reminder of his failures. His breath came in shaky gasps as he struggled to hold back the tide of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. This is something he would regret for the rest of his life. “I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he whispered into the emptiness, feeling as though his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

@10ava01 @n-o-p-e-never @itsdesiree86

@kr804573

[astray-anomaly]

Equivaltale’s story! (Part one)

Trigger warnings: Violence, character death, major character death, descriptions of body horror, cult activity, child abuse/neglect, mentions of grooming; physical abuse and sexual abuse, transpobia, child labour

Be very mindful of the trigger warnings! If you can’t handle some of these topics then don’t read!

This is very long so you better be prepared to go through a big chunk of text

Many Eons ago when the multiverse started to branch out there grew three trees. One of Life, one of Magic, and one of Feelings. The trees secured the balance of the multiverse, and each tree was protected by a guardian. All remained that way for centuries.

Until the downfall of one of the guardians. Nim, the Guardian of Feelings.

She had fallen by the hand of a mere mortal who wielded a dagger made to kill a guardian. Nobody knows how he got such a weapon as it was never recovered, yet he suffered a terrible fate. Being strangled by vine and bramble, left to bleed after the guardian had fallen.

Nim was losing blood fast, too weak to heal herself, yet there was one thing that she could do. She took all her energy, morphing it into two beings of light. One of positivity and one of negativity, Dream and Nightmare, two entirely new guardians.

Treating them like her children, even if she knew she couldn’t stay with them forever, but she couldn’t leave them without proper vessels either. After many attempts she finally found the perfect vessels for them that allowed their energy to flow perfectly, two skeletal bodies. But afterwards she had to fuse to the tree to heal. Leaving nothing for the twins to remember her by but the notes she left them and the tree she was binded to that they were to protect.

The twins lived peacefully for six years. Running around, playing with each other, catching bugs, and watching the stars, Then sleeping up in the branches of the tree after the sun had long set. It was just them and they were happy with that.

Until one night, it was different. When they woke up they found people, settlers not far from the tree, just ways down the hill where they were. Dream was excited, rushing to see the settlers; wanting to meet new people. Nightmare was cautious but followed their twin to look after them.

The settlers were overall nice people to the twins when they first met them. Some were skeptical, after all it’s not like the twins were ‘normal’. Nobody knew them. They didn’t understand basic things the villagers were used to. They were considered wild. After all, they didn’t know what “society” was.

But the settlers accepted them nonetheless, though it wasn’t long before they had to be taught how things worked by the standards of the people. Many things were unknowingly forced onto them, It wasn’t long before Dream and Nightmare had referred to each other as brother and sister. It was new, but they had gotten used to it even if they always referred to the other as ‘twin’.

Nightmare didn’t like it though, the title just didn’t fit. She wanted to be the same as her brother, she didn’t understand why the village disapproved of what she wore and how she acted, saying it was not very feminine. Like she cared what those stupid people thought though.

The village still tried to relatively respect them ,as they were related to Nim, the guardian which they had worshiped for a long time. It wasn't uncommon for people who lived around the trees to worship the guardians since they were god-like figures.

They viewed Nim as a symbol of growth, clarity, and spirit. Even having a temple built for her in the center of the village…At least that is how it started out.

It didn’t take long for the village to become more corrupt over time.

The people who ran the temple realized that they could use the twins for their own benefit, mainly Dream. Nobody wished to be unhappy, afterall. All they ever needed was happiness and it wasn’t long until Nightmare had been forgotten, discarded. Not being given the same attention that the temple leaders gave Dream, being looked at with disgust and disappointment.

The leaders would always grab away Dream from his sister and Nightmare would be left alone to suffer at the hands of persecutors who thought she deserved to be punished just for being the Guardian of Negativity.

It started as light insults, yet the words cut like a knife. Then it became actual cutting.. breaking.. Screaming…

One occasion leaving Nightmare’s right femur cracked from being stabbed. But she didn’t dare tell Dream. She didn’t want her brother to worry so she bandaged it up herself even if it left her with a permanent limp and pain, only forcing her to just stay by the tree more. Not explaining it to Dream and always brushing it off.

It wasn't like Dream would say anything to Nightmare either. He wasn't in the best place either . He tried to help Nightmare, going to the villagers to see if they knew anything about his sister getting hurt, but he was always scolded for asking. Dream could never question anything, he just listened to the temple ministers. If he didn’t he would be punished.

He just did what they said, even if it was tiresome to always be praised, looked up to, and running around helping the people, even if some things they did made him uncomfortable too. He didn’t like some of the praises, they felt weird, but he never said anything against it. After all he would always be rewarded for his work, even if the gifts they gave him barely equaled the amount of work he did.

He always listened to what they said, being molded (groomed) into what they wanted him to be like. Soon becoming more and more blind to what they were doing, becoming the perfect little guardian in their image. A being they could have complete control of and exploit.

Both twins were tired… so tired.

Nightmare would barely talk anymore, it worried Dream but he was pushed away again. The darker guardian couldn’t help Dream either, when she tried to convince him they should run away, he refused. Even if he cared for his sister, the lighter guardian was completely blinded by the village now. There was no convincing him to leave.

Nigwhtmare let herself drown her own negativity. Suffocating in her own body.. The days went by in a blur, always waking up with new injuries she didn’t know came from. And the cycle continued to repeat. It’s not like she even felt the pain anymore. She felt numb.

The only friend she had now was the voice from the black apples.

She didn’t know where it came from but it was comforting in a way, even if it was just a voice, it listened to her. She could pour all her feelings out to the apples, not really caring if it was real or not. It slowly convinced her to do what just felt right and listen to its advice. Promising help to her.

One day she decided enough was enough. She couldn’t stay like this, the voice was right. What was she doing?! She couldn’t let the village hurt her like this, she couldn’t let the village hurt her twin! She needed to get Dream back, they couldn’t take him away like this!

She snapped, finally lashing out, attacking the people who tormented her for so long. Hoping to get away, to injure them enough so she could run. Go to her twin, take the apples and run away with him from everything as fast and as far as they could, even if he would try to fight back.

..Her fighting really didn't do anything, she was outnumbered, and her bones were fragile. She was broken down and badly injured, bleeding out on the ground for just trying to protect herself.

The numbness was broken, she was broken. In pain, left to die like her mother before her. She didn’t want it to end like this, she wanted to see her brother again. Just once to see him again. Feel close to him again for one last time before fading away.

Everything was spiraling and echoing. Her head hurt badly, part of her skull cracked, now with only one eye to see. She forced her legs to carry her, reaching for one of the black apples. She didn’t think, she was just listening to what the voice was telling her to do. What the apples were telling her..

She needed the apples to be stronger.. to survive.

She would die without the apples. So she listened, after all the voice promised her help, it was the only thing that stayed with her. She trusted it. She bit into the first apple.. then the second.. then the third…

She didn’t stop, she couldn’t. No matter the damage, the negativity, the vile taste; she continued to eat and eat.

She was blind in her hunger, she didn't realize how badly the negativity began to grow. . The golden apples started to rot and snap off of their branches, turning into dust. Everything became dark as the moon began sheathing the sun, causing the sky to bleed a red hue.

A crowd gathered around her, horrified by the scene. The temple leaders demanded other people to try to stop her. To get rid of her before it was too late.

Dream watched in terror from the crowd, one of the first arriving in the scene . He yelled out and cried for them to stop. Trying to get to his twin but he was restrained. He clutched the last surviving golden apple in his hands while the villagers tried to drag him away to ‘save’ him.

A horrid scream pierced through the air and everything was frozen. Dream watched through tears of dread as half of his sister’s skull shattered and black twisted tendrils broke through the frail bone.

The last thread finally snapped and Dream broke away from the restraints, running to his sister. He didn’t care about the village anymore, he ran as fast as he could to Nightmare. Pushing those away that tried to stop him.

He held the last golden in his hands for dear life. Surely.. just surely.. There was a chance he could help Nightmare. There had to be a chance. He reached her even if Nightmare yelled at him to run away through her pain and cries.

Dream didn’t listen, pulling his twin close even if it burned. Trying to produce as much positivity as he could to counter the corruption. Using the help of the golden apple’s magic, trying to help Nightmare absorb its energy.

It didn’t go how Dream wanted, he was hoping the positivity would get rid of the corruption but it latched onto it instead.

Blood curdling screams were heard as the two souls fused together. The sound of bones breaking and mending back together filled the air with the disordered cries of the twins. There was nothing the villagers could do but stand there and watch, horrified as they saw the twins melt into this painful mangled mess. None of this would happen if it wasn’t for them.

Soon the cries went quiet for minutes after.

It was too quiet..

Then the sounds of bones snapping was heard again as the mush of goop and bones that was once the twins took shape into a single disfigured skeleton. Its purple and yellow eyes darted around, looking at its sudden surroundings.

It looked horrified and resentful at the villagers, feeling threatened. All it knew was the villagers were bad.. that they caused them pain. The sudden movement of one of them who tried to run caught its attention and triggered it to attack.

It was a bloodbath, one after another, each villager was ripped apart. There was no fighting back, it only caused the creature’s rage to grow. Blinded by its own fury until every single one was dead. Until every single one who threatened and hurt them was gone.

Once brought back to their senses, they saw the bloodshed that they had done. Not realizing it was their own doing, scared. Retreating back to the one place they remembered was safe, the tree.

Yet the tree was gone.. nothing but a torn stump. How did it get like this, what happened? The creature cried, collapsing by the tree. Their pain and shock finally caught up to them and they passed out at the roots of the rotting tree…

Part two

[sourgreenlupin]

james being convinced that remus and sirius are together even though they’re not

remus: hey sirius, do you wanna skip next class with me?

sirius: yeah obvi-

james: ARE YOU GUYS SKIPPING TO FUCK ???

sirius: james what the hell-

remus: james fucking merlin-

james catching remus looking at sirius while sirius has a sucker

james: do you wish you were that sucker moony?

sirius: (throws the sucker at james)

remus: (bashing james’ head into the table) hey! next full moon do me a favor and stay human!

remus and sirius being asleep on the couch in the common room, on opposite ends so they’re not even near each other

james: psst evans, do you think they’re dreaming about each other?

lily: i think they’re dreaming about digging your grave and burying you alive. merlins sake, leave them alone!

sirius: she’s right.

for sirius’ birthday james gets him a heart-shaped locket with a picture of him and remus. it has their initials carved into it.

sirius: james, i know you think me and moony fucked off from class one day and ELOPED ?? but if you dont knock it off, i swear im going to feed you to the squid.

and then when remus and sirius do actually get together, they were in sirius’ bed. remus just ‘hey. what if james was on to something?’

and they have their moment, but james saw remus sneak over, and prepared as always, is quietly pulling out a camera, just in case.

remus and sirius had just finished their emotional confessions, and were sitting there, remus’ hand still clutching sirius’ shirt collar, sirius’ hand on his jaw.

and james catches a picture of them staring at each other in this position. sirius and remus see the brightest light they’ve ever seen as the flash goes off, and remus falls to the floor while james is jumping up and down and screaming and waking up the entire floor. and hes yelling about finally having proof and finally proving lily wrong.

peter is throwing everything he can find at james to get him to shut the fuck up. there’s been 12 knocks at the door and various screams of ‘ITS 4 AM’. remus has scurried his way underneath sirius’ bed. and sirius is on the floor in tears laughing.

then james drops the picture on the ground cause something peter threw knocked it out of his hands. and remus immediately sets it on fire.

james drops to his knees and starts crying so hard he throws up. sirius is still losing his shit on the floor and remus is trying not to laugh from his spot under the bed. peter ends up just leaving and sleeping downstairs.

remus ends up having to give james a formal apology, agreeing to let him take another picture, and he agrees to name his firstborn after him. (remus doesnt mention that him and sirius cannot anatomically have children)