#and seize the day as much as i possibly can :’))

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -��So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Okay, we gotta talk about Pit Madness in the comics.

I keep seeing a bunch of people saying it’s not real. Problem. It is. It’s just rarely brought up.

It might not be the earliest reference, but we have this panel with Talia talking about how madness seizes him after dipping in the Lazarus Pit

Batman #244 (1972)

But this isn’t the only time we get reference to this. The panel below also talks about lore of the Lazarus Pits and again mentions that madness.

Batman: Bane of the Demon. Issue 3 (1998)

This gets referenced again in Hush when Bruce is fighting who he thinks is someone pretending to be Jason having been resurrected in the Pits during Hush.

Bruce is thinking about how he almost out Jason in a Pit after his death, but due to the madness the Pit can cause and Jason’s injuries to the head, he thought against it.

Batman # 618 - I think it’s volume 11 in the Hush omnibus (2003)

We see a reference to it again regarding Jason in the Lost Days. What’s super interesting here is that Talia states the Pits did NOT drive Jason mad, but Ra’s warns her that it’s possible the madness can occur up to years after a person’s dip.

I find this particular one fascinating, simply because of the lore that Pit Madness can take hold decades after a dip in a Pit.

Red Hood: the Lost Days #2 (2010)

Now, regarding Jason. There has NEVER been any concrete proof he’s suffered from Pit Madness. It’s very popular as a head cannon simply because Jason’s characterization is so all over the place.

Edit: Please keep in mind Jason was calm, cool, collected, and conniving in Under the Red Hood. Saying he’s Pit Mad there takes away all of the impact and gets rid of his motivations. Please be aware of this.

Now, that’s not saying there’s not a connection between Jason and the Pits. There was an entire arc in Red Hood and the Outlaws (2010) regarding this which also deals with Jason’s time with the All-Caste.

I still haven’t gotten around to reading that part, but it’s where the permanent augmentation theories come from. Oh, and Jason can canonically make constructs from Lazarus Water. Ra’s can too, but yeah… it’s a thing.

Red Hood and the Outlaws 2010 #27 (Released in 2014)

But while there’s no confirmation Jason’s dealt with Pit Madness, you know who has? Cass

Batgirl 1 #72 or 73 (2006)

Cass was revived after taking a blow for someone. And Shiva revived her, but there’s no permanence to it. And to my knowledge, I could be wrong since I’m not as familiar with her runs, this is the only time it gets referenced with her.

But going back to my original point that started this: Pit Madness is real. It’s just rarely seen in the comics. And if you want to use it, that’s fine - just be careful about its use since you can ruin characterization with it.

Edit 2: while there isn’t much of Pit Madness seen in the comics, it does seem to wear off over time. We also know a dip in the Pit temporarily increases brain power and physical strength/ability.

We also know that there’s a Lazarus Pit under Gotham and that its waters leech into Gotham’s water supply.

That’s referenced in Teen Titans vol. 3 issues 40-41 (2007) - forgive me. I don’t feel like looking up those panels

[yourfavvgal]

i hate the fact that ill probably have to work all my life. work the same 9-5 job until im in my 60s, having a partner, kids, grandkids - i dont want that

i want to actually live life. go places, spend time with friends, do stuff i’ve always wanted to do- actually live life and not being stuck in the same day to day cycle

[gutsby]

Bigger in Texas

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel won’t fit.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Size kink (seriously, don’t read if you hate big dicks / disgusting descriptions) Penis and pussy pronouns. Virginity loss. Age gap. Praise kink. Daddy kink. Joel ‘hung like a fucking horse’ Miller is a soft dom and also a good teacher. Competence kink (?)

Note: Somebody made a fic challenge to use penis pronouns, and I can’t for the life of me remember who it was. If y’all find them please show them this and tell them I love their brain 🫠

Update: @sp00kymulderr you’re a legend for this. Dick pronouns are engrained in my brain, and I’m forever grateful.

Word count: 2.3k

This wasn’t the life Joel Miller had pictured for himself.

The dead coming back to roam the world and eradicate most of its population, for one. The cold. Finding his baby brother way out here in Wyoming with a wife and a child on the way. The looks he was getting these days. It’s not like he’d asked to get mixed up with a girl your age. It just happened. And since damn near every-fucking-thing that had “happened” to him since outbreak day fifteen years back had been bottom of the barrel, full-blown nightmare territory, the second he saw a good thing fumble across his path, he’d seized it—you.

You, who were young enough to be his daughter.

You, who’d never seen a man fully before meeting him.

You, who hadn’t squeezed so much as a finger in herself.

But much like his past, Joel Miller was a sordid and sick kind of man, and he had the cock to prove it: presently weeping precum at the site of your softest, tightest hole, smearing the pearly-white slick through your folds with a sound so sweet it was nauseating. Begging for entrance.

“Oughta have a boy your age pop your cherry, kid.”

It was simple.

“Ain’t right havin’ a man my age all in your guts.”

And true.

The head of his cock made another wet, sickening noise through your folds, and as though instigated by the sound, your eyes flitted to the source. You smiled.

“Probably. But I want you,” you answered. Soft.

Joel got harder, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. His gaze joined yours, and the sight nearly finished him.

Beneath him, your legs had spread wider, showcasing that perfectly glistening seam alongside the head of his cock. He looked huge. Or you looked small. Or perhaps it was both, and he was old, and he really shouldn’t be doing this at all, but then his hips stuttered a bit and his length pushed in. Joel hissed and seized the headboard.

It wouldn’t even go in. The tip just stretched the rim.

“Baby, fuck—” Joel whimpered.

“He’s so big.”

Three little words from your lips, and it almost did him in.

Again.

You wriggled your hips and flashed another happy grin.

“He wants in, daddy. I can feel him pulsin’ like I am.”

You volleyed a look up to Joel as if to say, ‘So that means we’re ready, right? Will you let me have him?’

And, strangled by guilt as he was, Joel couldn’t resist.

He let his big, bulbous, leaking head sink in the tiniest bit, and he let out a groan. Your walls were so tight. This was him, too—his tip was oversized, just like the rest of him—and when it notched in an inch, Joel could see the pain flash quick in your eyes. His hips moved to retreat.

But then your heels were lifting and digging in his ass, and though strained, your voice made it out, weakly:

“Don’t, daddy. I want him.”

Joel couldn’t dream of refusing.

And his vision blurred more at that word, him.

“I-I know. He wants you too, baby—”

Another quarter-inch.

“—so, so bad.”

“Daddy!”

Joel had to blink to try and wake from his daze. His tip was so warm, hugged so perfect and snug and wet, that he didn’t even realize that was all that fit. He was stuck.

You whimpered again.

“‘S’too big, daddy. Just make him go in.”

Your eyes rolled with indignation and overwhelming pleasure alike, and your hips squirmed again. This time, you tried to nudge him in deeper, but your body simply wouldn’t budge; you’d reached the widest part of him.

“Honey, it’s—”

“Hurtin’! I need you inside me.” you cried, impatient.

“Just takes a little time to get there, darlin’—”

“Well, get to it, then. A tip ain’t enough.”

Joel’s face flushed. He might’ve been forced to bite back a laugh under any other circumstances, but this was your virginity. His bed. Your naked bodies, together, tonight.

He wasn’t about to rush it now and fuck everything up.

“This tip’s about to paint your pretty insides white and make you wait til next week to try again if you keep it up.”

That made you go still.

You shook your head while Joel released the headboard from his grip and took your hip in it instead. He grunted.

“Sweet pea, you gotta see—” he resumed, voice low, “—it won’t feel good for you or me if I just…push right in.”

You sighed, feeling his hold tighten.

“Tongue and fingers only do so much. You gotta learn.”

You whined, digging your feet in deeper when his tip drew back to your entrance. Looking a bit squeamish.

“Be brave…and patient for me.”

From the look in your eyes, Joel could tell you probably hated him right now. That was just fine. He adjusted his hips to a more comfortable place, and then he pinched your hip bone. He nudged you back, and he let you wait.

Then, right when you opened your mouth, he sank in.

Joel thrusted with only his tip, the size of a small lime, and he fucked your hole gently. Back and forth. Shallow.

It did enough. You squeezed both his forearms.

“Oh, daddy.” Your bottom lip trembled as you said it.

With his free hand, Joel smoothed your hair back.

“Yeah, what is it, baby?” he murmured, dulcet as ever, “Thought you said the tip ain’t enough for you, sugar.”

His words came slow. His strokes were delivered quick, though tenderly. Your brain appeared to be in a fog, or a trance, as your chin dipped down toward your chest, and you watched him breach the first inch of you repeatedly.

“Curious little thing.” Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle now.

“He’s so…” you trailed off.

You squeezed his arms, and he squeezed your hip back. He let you watch him fuck you with only his tip, and when your head began to tilt back from the strain, he reached up with his other hand and held the back of your neck. He felt you clench at that, and you both groaned.

“So…big,” you finished, eyes glazed.

“I know.”

This went on for the longest time: Joel stretching the first precious inch of your pussy with the head of himself, you watching and breathing deeply, whimpering occasionally, and him holding at the nape of your neck like a softer touch might lose you to him forever. Was this teaching? When you clenched again, he reckoned it was.

“That’s it, honey. Watch her swallow me.”

“Stretches real pretty for the tip, doesn’t she?”

“Bet she can’t even fit another inch of this cock.”

Suddenly, your head was jerking up under his hold.

Eyes flaring with a hot, juvenile kind of anger: “I can!”

Joel clicked his tongue against the backs of his teeth and pretended not to hear. He also had to feign indifference when your walls tightened and all but choked his head and a wave of new pleasure surged up through his body.

“She can, Joel, I’m serious!”

Another two seconds of this and Joel sensed he might see tears. Though his gaze had trailed up to yours, and the look in his appeared stern, deep down, he was just as quick to want to cave. He just hid it better than you did.

“You think so, sweet pea?”

“I know so. I need it.”

“Need him?”

“Y-Yes.”

How sweet you seemed. How naive you must be.

Joel might’ve been mean, but he wasn’t cruel. He also liked teaching lessons as much as he enjoyed showing you the way, so in the next second, he obliged. He took the last shallow thrust of his tip and sank into your cunt.

As he filled you, you whined. It only took an inch or two.

“Da-a-ddy. Please.”

You must’ve been begging for lenience. Joel retreated.

Then, much to the man’s surprise, you kicked your feet. Not in relief but in protest, shaking your head up at him:

“Put him back. Please. D-Deeper.”

It was as though Joel’s brain had exited through the back of his head and all rational thought escaped him, for the moment. The only voice he heard was yours. It was pleading. And in between your legs, you were soaked.

So drenched to allow him another inch. Then another. Then another. Joel fucked in gently and felt a seismic wave of pleasure seize his limbs—and likely yours, as well. It was as though in two blinks, you’d forgotten the pain altogether. You were suffused with need instead, eyes wincing and lips curling and sounds leaving your throat like an animal in heat. Want him deeper, please.

Joel sawed back and forth with just those five or so inches and made you writhe underneath him. Felt you clamp down on his thick, slippery cock and heard the remnants of your shared arousal making sounds as your body accepted him. Stretching wider. Getting wetter. Bringing him closer to the edge with every breath.

“She’s doin’…so good f’me,” Joel told you, brainless.

His thumb drifted to your clit. He rubbed it gently. No sooner had he finished the first circle around that nub when your hips were stirring again—this time incensed.

“Daddy.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Joel kissed the top of your head, thumb insistent. When his eyes met yours, he was surprised to find them wet this time. Tears pooling and streaking down to your temples while your body bounced gently beneath his thrusts. A whimper trembled out, and Joel slowed.

He could tell from that look you didn’t want him to stop, though. It just felt so good. So, instead of dropping his pace too much, Joel cupped your chin in one hand, and with the other, he kept thumbing at your clit. Humming.

“Poor thing’s never had something this big in ‘er, huh?”

You shook your head. Cried a little more.

Joel kissed the tears on one side, lips smiling as he did.

“I can tell, baby. But she’s taking it so well.”

“Y-Yeah?”

His hips sped up a little. The thrusts were still shallower than they normally would be, given your state, but they seemed to be working well enough. You winced again.

Joel kissed the other side of your face to take more tears.

“Uh-huh,” he answered, “Openin’ up real nice for daddy.”

It was like his words worked as well as his thumb on your clit. You whimpered again, lips parting a little wider now, and the sound that came out was as desperate and feverish and fuck-drunk as Joel had ever heard it.

“S-Say it again,” you pleaded.

“Say what?”

“That he’s…stretchin’ me open. Makin’ me his.”

The soft, slick resonance between your body and his seemed to amplify even more—you were getting wetter, and Joel’s thrusts all but shook the bed with their force.

His eyes darkened when he felt you tighten again.

“Yeah? You like hearin’ all the filthy fuckin’ things your daddy’s doing? The way he’s breakin’ you in for him?”

You nodded. Your throat constricted with a moan.

And, just when a fresh set of tears seemed to be close on the horizon, Joel lowered himself to you. He held you to his chest, hips working relentlessly, and he watched your face screw up in pleasure. A trace of pain surfaced again, but it was soothed with a kiss. Joel grinned against you.

Between your thighs, his cock was throbbing with a feeling just as big. He knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. Hurting and aching and needing as you were, he had to make sure that you would cum first.

When his cock grazed a fleshy, sensitive patch inside your walls, he knew it wouldn’t take much. He went on:

“C’mon, sugar. Daddy’s split you open on his cock so nice, least you can do is cum for him. Can you do that?”

His nose brushed yours. His thrusts sped up. You nodded, quickly, and when he shifted in the bed with his thumb still on your clit and his lips and his stubble grazing your mouth with every push of himself, he felt it.

It was a small pulse, at first.

Joel thought you might be adjusting—clenching—again, when the lips that were trembling against his own parted more. Your arms wound around his neck, and suddenly the throb of your walls around his member got tighter and tighter and tighter. One more second and your cunt might’ve squeezed the hot, sticky seed right out of his body and flooded your insides with it, but then came release. The ‘o’ of your mouth let out a shriek, at last, and your body went soft around him, beneath him, whining in turn, ‘Daddy, daddy, please’ while the muscles once taut and unflinching gave him reprieve. Fluttering repeatedly.

Joel fucked you through it. He talked you through it.

He stroked your hair, and he held you tight. Called you his sweetheart, pretty thing, perfect girl, you’re doin’ so good f’me. Keep going. That’s right, cum all over daddy. He told you to take what you needed, and without another word, he felt just that. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you consumed every inch he gave and drank every drop of spend shooting out in thick spurts.

You fell boneless on the bed when all was said and done.

You looked happy, and that made Joel even happier.

He stroked your cheek, and you leaned into it, clearly drained while your gaze held his in a weak sort of look.

It was soft. Loving, even. It could’ve been romantic.

Then Joel’s hand slipped down to the nape of your neck again. Your muscles were limp, like all the rest of you, but somehow, he was able to hold you up. Tilt your chin a bit.

Make you peer down between your shaking legs, where his cock was still sheathed inside you—partly, anyway.

Your eyes widened. Joel grinned.

“You did great, baby. Ready for the other half of him?”

can y’all believe this image is what inspired this fic HA

it’s only Thursday i’m sorry 😔

[carebearbussy]

𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙩𝙮 & 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩

ᥫ᭡ 𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙧𝙖! 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

ᥫ᭡ 𝙘𝙬: 𝙋𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 <3

ᥫ᭡ 𝙬𝙘: 1.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Your cravings have been going wild.

Ever since you had fallen pregnant by an absolute gargantuan of a man, you are forced to carry twice the amount of nutrients and food stored in your body. The local doctors had recommended that your usual meals be doubled in size, in order to support the extra weight it carried by having a child under Sukuna. And even Sukuna had chimed in, adding that maybe his diet would work for you. But you quickly declined the offer, taking into consideration the life growing inside of you. You did not want your child to grow up to be a cannibalistic monster, much like his father.

But your food choices have been much more bizarre as of lately. Things ranging from huge one course meals that could feed a family of 7, pickled everything, anything covered in cheese, and any regular foods you ate had to be made a specific way, or served in larger portions. Which is why you had decided to wake Sukuna up in the middle of the night, one of the cravings you had pondered on being at the top of your to do list.

Every now and then, your cravings would get really bad. To the point where it was now everybody else's problem. But you truly couldn't help it.

"Kuna, 'Kuna wake up!" You whispered, as you lay spooned beside him. You shook his body from behind you as you spoke, making sure he could hear you. You felt him stretch awake with a low groan, letting you free of his grasp. "Are you awake? Its important..." you ask, awaiting a response out of him. And to your avail, he is awake, but not with the attitude you were initially hoping for. He seemed annoyed that his rest had been interrupted, but those concerns were to be put to rest, as you stepped out of bed, sliding your slippers on by the edge of the bed. He looks at your standing form with half lidded eyes, clearly making the first of many signals of his annoyance with you at the moment.

"What is so important that you wake me from my rest, woman? Im giving you six seconds to speak." He says, as he props himself upwards, sitting at the edge of the bed. With you standing near him, he seizes your hips with his lower set of hands, forcing you into his proximity. "I'm not waiting all day." He ushers you on to speak, but as you think about his possible answer, you start to rethink telling him what you truly want. You look away, clearly starting to get nervous with the attention. But as you do, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look down at him, as he searches for answers. "Go on."

"Well... i've been having cravings lately, and I wanted to know if maybe the kitchen could make me something..." You say, fiddling with your thumbs, as you feel your stomach start to growl lowly. He looks down at your stomach, as you quietly protest his decision to be made. He closes his eyes for a couple seconds, before responding.

"If this is what you really need, then I will indulge this once, brat." He says with a low sigh, as he lets go of his hold on your waist, getting up from his spot on the bed. You look up at him eagerly, silently squealing to yourself as you jump up and down slightly. You wrap your arms around your husbands neck, as you reach up on your tiptoes to pepper kisses all over his defined face. He looks down at your cheerful form, looking unaffected by the attention you give him, but deep down is smiling on the inside. He knows that as long as you stay his sweet, happy wife, then he can get a good nights rest after this.

He picks you up by the back of your thighs, as you are lifted off the ground what seems suddenly. He hoists you on his left side, one hand holding your ass up, the other acting as a back rest. Letting yourself be carried, he opens the door with his right hand, walking into the large hallway to your favorite place since becoming pregnant, the kitchen.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

It seemed as if you had started a national crisis.

With the way you had Uraume, as well as a team of the estates chefs working like dogs in the kitchen. All that could be heard from the upper left wing of the estate was the clinking and clanging of pots and pans, as well as chefs scurrying to prepare the food you had requested. Because it was well known that any request of yours, was to be taken as seriously as if it were from Sukuna.

Uraume seemed to be the only calm one, with them being used to your shenanigans. They were the head of the kitchen, as they lead all of the preparations for the 'big feast', as they like to call it. That big feast being for your pregnant self, of course.

As the kitchen was torn shred by shred trying to prepare you the perfect dish, you stood by the entrance and watched, one hand on your stomach. Standing besides you was Sukuna, with lower arms crossed, as his upper arms conducted the kitchen staff with whats right and wrong. Your eyes lit up with excitement, as you watched all of these people cater to your needs.

"Kuna, how about... chocolate filled dumplings?" You asked, looking up at your focused husband. He was busy keeping an eye on everything, making sure not to mess up your multiple requests you had made in the past twenty minutes. He looks at you with upper set of eyes, his lower ones hyper focused on the kitchen staff.

"That sounds disgusting. But if that is what you wish, so be it." He tells you, scoffing at all of the ridiculous things you had said so far. He then watches as Uraume heads your way, a silver platter in hand, holding what seemed to be at least thirty pieces of bacon, covered in chocolate and sea salt. To any sane person, this would look downright vile. But to you? Sukuna watched as your mouth practically dropped. You squealed in excitement, looking at the dish in hand. "Please enjoy, my lady." Uraume says, still holding out the dish to you as you happily devour it.

But you pause as you look over at Sukuna, still looking down at you. And thats when a lightbulb flicks in your head. You grab a piece of bacon from the tray, as you step in front of Sukuna. He looks down at you, wondering what you're up to, when you reach up on your tippy toes to try and pry open his mouth. "Pleaseeee try it!" You say, pouting your lips, still trying to open his mouth with your fingers. He looks down at you as he furrows his eyebrows, curling his lip upwards. "No, that is repulsive."

Your pout lowers into a full frown, your eyes glossy with the want for him to try what you are offering him. He rolls his eyes, as he picks up the piece of bacon you are holding with two fingers. He looks at it, as he scoffs, swallowing it in one go. "See! Its good right?" You ask him, a smile crossing your face. He looks at you with a 'are you serious?' look, before ruffling your hair, amused with how happy you were that he divulged you.

"It was horrible. Never again are you going to make me do these kinds of things for you, brat."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

[3amfanfiction]

You and Simon are walking home when something frightening happens. One thing about being in a relationship with him, you just KNOW he would be hauling you around like a sack of flour if something dangerous happened.

Cw: ptsd

It’s been a good day. Simon is home from deployment, the sun has just set and the weather is clear.

You’ve been out running errands with him for most of the day. Your partner’s been home for a week and this is the first time either of you have left the house. You miss him badly when he’s away but you’d give anything for days like today.

You’re walking down the sidewalk, hands tangled together as Simon carries the shoulder bag of groceries on his other side. The quiet evening is peaceful, storefront lights beginning to click on as the day winds down.

You’re not sure exactly what happened. One moment you’re chattering at Simon, telling him about the new recipe you were going to try out tonight and the next you’re being forced against the building, Simon’s hand pressing your head towards your chest while he slams his body into yours, covering as much of you with himself as possible.

You gasp in a stunned breath once your lungs stop seizing before your ears recognize the reverberating boom in the air. You watch with wide eyes as the bag Simon had just been holding spills groceries onto the sidewalk, cans and jars rolling away from the spilled bag.

You yelp as he pulls you away from the wall and half picks you up while keeping you tucked into his chest. He moves quickly into the alleyway you had just passed, keeping himself between you and the street. You shuffle your feet trying to keep up as he bodily drags you.

Si-Simon you gasp breathlessly in shock. What are you doing? But there’s no response. You look up into his face only for your heart to stutter in your chest. You’ve never seen that look on his face before. Two more booms shake the air before there is a faint crackle.

His eyes are steely above his mask. He doesn’t wear his balaclava when he’s home, but dons a blank, black face mask when you need to leave the house. You never thought you’d be scared of him but if he looked at you with that face you would freeze up in a heartbeat.

You realize what’s going on as a red glow lights up the alleyway before fading back into darkness.

Simon, it’s okay. We’re okay. It was a firework, baby. We’re safe. You’re home with me. Nothing. His gaze is jumping to every shadow, still sheltering you between his body and the wall.

You raise your arm to try and cup his cheek, attempting to bring him back to you but he rips his face away with a snarled stay down before shuffling you further into the alleyway.

His grip on you is tight as he shoves you into a deep doorway, wedging himself in after. You can feel his heart pounding from where your face is pressed against his chest, his other hand still holding the back of your head, pressing you against him.

You try again. Simon. Simon you’re home. You’re here with me and it was a firework. Some idiot has gone and started setting them off. There’s probably going to be another boom here in a minute and then you’ll be able to see it in the sky.

Like the universe is listening, there is another explosion right then with a trailing shower of lights afterwards. It casts enough of a glow for you to see his eyes again. They’re panicked and darting every which way trying to see where the danger is coming from.

You decide to wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze as hard as you can, hoping the pressure would help bring him back. You start talking, not giving a chance for silence to fill the space.

We were walking home from the grocery store. We were going to make that new pasta dish I was telling you about for dinner. I had just asked you about stopping in at that new tea shop on our way. You know the one, on the corner of 4th? They have a jasmine tea I’m really interested in trying. And I saw on their website they have a chocolate croissant too. I know how much you love them.

On and on and on. Narrating what you’d done that day, what you were going to do when you got home. The newest show you and him were watching together, how you had trimmed his hair for him yesterday, anything you could think of.

Finally, after what felt like years, his hold on you begins to loosen and his body begins to shake slightly with the adrenaline crash. The periodic booms making him clench back up each time.

After every explosion you made sure to reiterate, that was a blue firework. It looked almost like a weeping willow tree. You know the one . . . trying to bring him into the present and keep him there.

Eventually he stands up straight and you’re able to look him in the eye. He seems almost ashamed of what just happened. It’s okay baby. Let’s go get our bag of food and then we’ll go home. I’m thinking we order takeout and then cuddle for the rest of the night, how does that sound?

He nods his head before pressing a hard kiss to your forehead through his mask, apology or thanks you’re not sure. You make your way out to the street together, Simon insisting on staying bodily between you and the street still, head on a swivel with every movement that catches his eye.

By the time you get home he’s well and truly crashing. Slight shaking accompanying his movements, eyes beginning to go unfocused. The rest of the evening ensuring some part of you was touching him at every moment.

Next Story || Story Repository

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Your Loyal Servant

Yandere Villainess/ Maid x Isekai Princess Fem Reader

TW: obsession, reader is trapped in the girl love/ GL book, DARK CONTENT, horror, yandere themes, cannibalism (reader consumes blood), SOMNIAPHILIA/ NONCON (nipple play), creepy behavior, abuse of power, betrayal, sapphic yearning, etc.

Della was once a princess of the shadow kingdom before she became your servant. A princess with dreams of ruling her kingdom until your kingdom invaded and decimated her home when she was eight. Your family’s knights easily seized her throne since her father had been greedy and tried to conquer your kingdom first. She could never forget the fire and death she saw that day… the day she was dragged up by her black locks and thrown into a cage on a cart to be sold off as a slave. The day her emotions died and left her an empty vessel.

Yet you were her saving grace. You were at the auction that day and you insisted to your butler that you had to buy her. “She’s my age! She can’t possibly become a slave, she’ll die!”

At first, Della was weary of you. Her small body curled up in her cage as she cowered in a fetal position. Did you purchase her to satiate some sort of sick sadistic tendency of yours? To rub in your family’s victory in her face? Della despised you… until you innocently smiled at her. Your hand outstretched to her dirty ones when your purchase was a success. “My name is (your name), what’s yours?”

And despite her current status of being a commoner, you never treated Della like one. You let her take baths with you and held her hand. You always requested her to lay beside you at night for a ‘sleepover.’ Della thought you were strange.

You often invited her for walks in your garden with you and shared your woes with her. Sometimes you’d even sneak her sweets from the tea parties you had to attend. If Della didn’t know any better, she’d say the two of you were friends. Best friends. Yet she never saw you as such. Your conversations were typically one sided.

“Della, I want you to be by my side until I’m old. Can you do that?” You were twelve when you made that request to her. Your maid smiled softly at you.

“Of course, mistress.” You puffed out your cheeks and pouted at her.

“It’s (your name)! You don’t have to be so formal with me all the time. Aren’t we friends?” Della just hummed which only made you sigh. All these years together and Della was still as stiff as a board. It would take years to tear down the walls around Della’s heart despite your attempts to be close to her… it made you terribly sad that you couldn’t tell Della your true secret. The secret that you were from another world trapped in the body of the original heroine, but you doubted she’d believe you. After all, you made it your goal to not die at the hands of this GL novel’s ice cold villainess. You did your absolute best not to let Della fall into depravity and turn to dark magic like she was supposed to in this doomed Yuri novel. You were on a mission to insure her happiness! At least not until you were ready to free her from servitude once you were married off with a nice sum of money. You didn’t want her to suffer…“I will always have your best interest in mind, Della. I just wished you’d see that…”

Even when the two of you grew older, you still insisted on spending time with Della. It often gave the poor maid a headache but she never complained. You were her mistress no matter how much she wanted to ring your pretty little neck with her hands. No matter how much your kindness secretly touched her heart. She was your loyal servant.

Della often found her cheeks flushed when the two of you became teenagers. She couldn’t believe you’d still try to get her to bathe you or lay beside you in bed. You two were practically adults now! That was indecent! Had you no shame as a lady?! Yet another thought couldn’t help but crawl into the back of Della’s mind. Was there a possibility you were attracted to her? The thought didn’t entirely bother Della. Most of the women in the empire were with other women so it wouldn’t be strange… right?

You often rained down compliments on Della but she hardly responded to them. She was still taciturn and stoic. You often felt as if you were conversing with a rock rather than your self-appointed ‘best friend.’ It made you feel even more lonely as the years went on. Were you doing this all for naught? Would Della still murder you like she would in the book? You hoped not! You still haven’t met your favorite character! The female lead! Except you weren’t the original, naive female lead that would be offed by the villainess…

As the two of you approached adulthood, you promoted her to head maid. Yet she still remained close to your side. You no longer asked her to bathe you or asked for ‘sleepovers,’ you were more lady like now. You also ceased with your compliments to her and her work, a small fact that bothered Della a bit. Didn’t you like her still? Why were you being so different?

Meanwhile you were antsy. The ball was coming up and you’d soon meet the female lead! She was a holy knight and she’d be the one to save the empire from the forces of evil… she was so cool and muscular! A butch from your sapphic dreams! You felt yourself internally fan girl out of excitement. Yet you didn’t want to express that to Della. No, you’d still remain civil with your maid since she didn’t seem to care much for your companionship…

Della brushed your hair as you sat on your stool, your hands in your lap as you hummed a soft tune to yourself.

And that’s when you dropped a bomb on Della. “I really enjoyed Stephanie’s cooking yesterday. Could you ask her to make me food again?” Stephanie? The new cook? What was so great about her cooking that made you praise her? Della was the one who doted on you. Della was the one who always took care of you.

“Ouch!” You jumped when Della accidentally tugged on your hair. “Della, that hurt-“ Your heart stopped in your chest when you glanced up at the look on Della’s face. Her eyes held a murderous glint in them which made you shudder. Oh god… was she going to hurt you?

Della snapped out of it the instant she heard your voice, she quickly bent down to make sure you were okay, but you swatted her hands away. “I’m sorry, Della… I can finish getting ready by myself.”

Della felt her world crash around her. She hadn’t meant to pull your hair… don’t kick her out. Please don’t do this… yet she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She instead, bit her lips and bowed her head to you. She then rushed out of your room in haste. It wasn’t until Della rounded the corner of the hall that one of the other maids pointed out that her lips were bleeding.

Della absentmindedly touched her lips and frowned. Never had she been so emotional… yet all these feelings were brought out by you. Her princess… her princess that she wanted to serve forever.

“Where is Stephanie?” Della softly asked the maid who quirked a brow. The maid told Della the location of the cook in a confused tone, “oh, she’s in the kitchen. Why?” Della just gave the maid a smile. “I just have a message for her is all.”

Yes… she was the head maid so she could use that to her advantage. She’d get the ginger bitch fired. You should only compliment Della. No one else mattered.

You were surprised when a plate was placed in front of you by Della. This wasn’t Stephanie’s cooking… this looked like Della’s. “Oh? What’s this?”

“Your favorite.” Della replied in her usual stiff tone. The maid poured you a cup of your favorite tea as well. Della wasn’t wrong but you couldn’t help but feel a bit suspicious of her. Where was Stephanie? Oh well… you’d eat your meal.

Della’s green eyes studied you as she watched you eat the meal without complaint. Your face scrunched up when the meat had a bit of a strong iron taste to it, but you kept eating. Della played with the bloody bandages on her fingers as her smile grew wide. She hoped you liked the way she tasted. What better way to stay with you forever than to give you some of her blood?

When you retired for the night, Della snuck into your room to lay beside you. Her olive hands snuck under your dress to cup your chest. Her fingers pinched your nipples to see your cute reactions. She hadn’t realized how sensitive you were… did you need her to take care of your body’s needs? She’d do it. Della would do anything you asked of her… just don’t throw her away. Della pushed your dress up as she licked her lips at the sight of your bare body. What a dirty girl you were to not wear undergarments… perhaps she’d teach you a thing or two about being indecent?

You woke up the next day with sore nipples. They were a bit swollen and red and you couldn’t figure out why. You nearly cried when you accidentally touched one. Did you have an allergic reaction to your meal yesterday? No… this was just so odd.

Della dutifully entered your room and began to help you get dressed. Her green eyes filled with satisfaction from her handiwork on your nipples. You seemed so confused… like a little lamb. Della thought it was so cute.

Della began to order the other maids to work far away from you. She needed to get you to alone so she could express her feelings for you properly… so none of the other servants knew she was going to fuck you. She didn’t want any rumors to spread about her darling princess! Della would be a horrible maid if she did that…

You were a bit shocked with how touchy Della was throughout the week. She was stuck to you like a shadow now. And you had yet to see another servant other than Della attend to your needs. You found it so odd…

“Della? Where are all my personal maids?” You asked as you sat on your stool. Della scowled for a brief second before she recovered to her usual icy exterior.

“You only need me, my princess. They’re all inferior.” You froze and turned your body around to look at your maid.

“Pardon?” You’re shocked when Della’s hands grab your face. “D-Della-“

Della presses her lips to yours in a passionate kiss. Her large chest pressed against yours as she pushed you against your vanity. You’re absolutely mind boggled at this development. What was happening?! You thought Della hated you.

“Princess… my princess.” Della whispered against your lips as she reached a hand to undo her bun. Her black curls now cascaded down her back like a cape. “I’m your forever servant and only I can properly fulfill your needs. And I mean all of your needs.”

You gasped when she yanked your legs up onto her shoulders. Your eyes widened in confusion until your face flushed in realization. Della didn’t hate you… Della was obsessed with you.

“So let me please you properly, princess. I swear I won’t disappoint you.”

[heytheredelulu]

Unbreakable

Unbreakable Part 2 can be found here!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

C/W: Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, language

Summary: You’ve always wanted to be a mother but your husband is too tormented by his past to believe he could ever be a good father. For so long you’ve accepted that it will never be in the cards for you- after all, it’s only a small price to pay to continue to live the life you’ve built with the man you love. But what happens when you finally admit that you want what he refuses to give you? Will you push him away with your confession or will you finally make him realize that he’s not the man he believes himself to be?

A/N: Look, I’ve been hormonal as hell for the last two weeks and it’s got me craving some angsty, soft, needy Bucky-

And some passionate, sensual baby makin’ sex.

So without further ado, please enjoy the longest fic I’ve ever written.

“Doll?” Bucky asked softly, kneeling down in front of you and lowering his head to your level in an attempt to draw your attention up from the book sprawled open in your lap.

You’d been much more reserved as of late and it was beginning to worry him. Your smile seemed a little weaker, a little more forced, and your overall demeanor had reversed; as if the bright light that you always exuded had been extinguished and you were now floating along on the furls of smoke that were left behind- here physically, but mentally you were always elsewhere.

“Hmm?”

You turn the page gently without looking up and Bucky sighs, reaching to carefully slide the book off your lap, snapping it shut and placing it on the coffee table.

“Look at me, angel.”

You let out a slow breath, lifting your head to meet your husband’s troubled gaze, his brows furrowed in concern.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, or are you gonna keep hiding out with your nose in a book all day?” He asks quietly, hoping that this time you’d open up, pull back the curtains you’d drawn so tightly and let him into those veiled thoughts of yours.

You shrug, trying to avert your eyes but his hand gently grasps your chin, tilting your face back towards him.

“Angel, please.”

You shake your head, afraid to share with him what’s been troubling you for weeks, afraid to dredge up long washed away agreements.

“It’s stupid.”

He raises an eyebrow, pinning you under his cerulean stare.

“Nah, it’s not stupid if it’s got you this worked up. C’mon.”

He affectionately tucks a piece of hair that had fallen loose when you’d shook your head back behind your ear before offering you a small smile that breaks your resolve and you feel the tears beginning to form on your lower lash line, the translucent beads of heartache obscuring your vision.

“I want a baby.” You whisper, immediately wishing you’d never uttered those four words once you see the corners of his lips begin to pull downwards.

When he slowly stands and takes a hesitant step backwards, that mask of stoicism you’ve worked for so long to peel away slipping back into place, your heart seizes in your chest.

“Bucky..” You plead, a tear slipping down your cheek as you rise from your seat and reach out for him, afraid you’ve pushed him too far with your admittance. “James.. Baby.”

He shakes his head, holding his palm out towards you in a feeble attempt to maintain his distance while he mulls over your confession but you press forward, placing your hand gently on his forearm.

“I need some air.” He mumbles, shrugging off your hand and moving quickly towards the door.

Before you can muster the voice to call out for him again, the door is closing behind him with a soft click and he’s gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Why couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut?

You scold yourself, your mind reeling with the possibility that you may have said too much despite only saying so little when you hear his motorcycle roar to life out in the garage.

He was running again.

You’d known the idea of children was a difficult subject for Bucky. It had only come up in discussion a handful of times before and when it had, he was always quick to dismiss it, stating he’d be a terrible father before descending into a rabbit hole of self-deprecating comments you’d have to reach down and pull him out of with a steady hand of reassurance.

As time went on you’d pretty much conceded to the idea that you’d never have the chance to be a mother if you wanted to continue to live the life you’d built with the man that you loved and you’d grown to accept that fact. At the time it felt like a small price to pay for the joy and love that Bucky brought you but as the years went on and your friends and coworkers grew their families, welcoming new, bright eyed babies, you began to feel a sense of longing for what you had always thought you’d never want.

His behavior was so much different this time, the way he’d clammed up, shut you out and needed to completely remove himself from your presence. His reaction had never been so extreme before and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was how desperate you’d seemed- the tears in your eyes, the pleading in your tone.

Those thoughts and unanswered questions weighed heavily in your mind while you escaped the afternoon inside the pages of your book until the sun began to set through the bay window and you finally dragged yourself up to bed, your restless mind carrying you into a dreamless sleep.

It was nearly 2 in the morning when Bucky crept barefoot into your bedroom, the hall light bathing your sleeping figure in a corridor of fluorescent light as he quietly opened the door. His breath caught in his chest as he lingered in the doorway, this vision of you reminding him just why he always affectionately referred to you as his angel.

He shut the door softly behind him, shedding his t-shirt and jeans before gently pulling back the sheets, his heart and his cock simultaneously swelling when his gaze settled on the image of you in your silk night gown as it rode innocently up your supple thighs.

He crawled silently up the foot of the large bed, lowering himself onto his stomach and settling between your legs, his hands gently kneading the tender flesh of your thighs as a low and shuddered breath blew from his lips.

He carefully pushed the hem of the silk garment higher, exposing your cotton briefs and the soft flesh of your belly, moving to rest his head against the bare skin. His hand hesitantly caressed your abdomen.

All afternoon his head had been plagued with the fear of losing you, the feeling of inadequacy resulting from the pain in your tone when you confessed the desire for something he felt he could never provide.

But once alone with his thoughts as he tore down the interstate on his motorcycle, physically trying to outrun the deep rooted trauma of his past, the pieces began to fall into place for him.

You’d loved him unconditionally through his trauma, offered him unwavering support and shined light to the darkest depths of his soul, always seeing something inside him that he could never see in himself.

But you were fading. Becoming physically and emotionally withdrawn under the weight of sacrificing such a fundamental need that you craved- all for him.

Maybe he’d never overcome his past. Maybe there would always be a darkness beyond the surface that kept its claws dug deep into the innermost reaches of his subconscious.

Or maybe he had already overcome it and had just been so blinded by his own self loathing that he hadn’t realized. Surely if he was as cold and broken as he believed himself to be, he never would have been capable of loving you in the all encompassing way that he did.

You, the one person in his life that could melt the ice encapsulating his heart with only a flash of your warm smile.

He’d never wanted children. He always believed he’d be a terrible father but the desperation in your eyes when you confessed that you wanted a baby with him brought him to consider that maybe it had always been his own insecurities rearing their ugly head as they always did when he tried to imagine himself as anything more than the man he used to be.

His hand stroked idly across your bare abdomen in slow, languid movements as he tried to picture the soft flesh stretched and swollen with his child.

His child.

A life created from the love and the passion that the two of you shared, to raise in the home you’d built together, to nurture with the kindness that you exhumed and to mold into a better person than he could’ve ever hoped to have been with the guidance only someone as patient as you could provide.

He’d never wanted to be a father, never thought he was capable of being a father.

But you, you made him feel as if he were capable of anything and as he had pulled his motorcycle over onto the side of the highway and wept that evening, he knew now without question that he wanted- no, needed you to bring his child into this world.

“Baby?”

Your sleepy voice penetrated his thoughts as you spoke into the dark room and reached your hands down to tenderly run your fingers through his brunette locks.

“You came home.” You mumbled, trying to rouse from your slumber enough to properly talk to him.

Bucky raised his head off of your belly, sliding his hand up your torso, through the valley of your breasts to settle at your nape. He gently cupped your jaw and tilted your head to look at him as he hovered above you.

“Of course I came home.” He says, the hurt evident in his tone. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent it from quivering as your emotions begin to rise to the surface again.

“I don’t know. I just-“ You hesitate, worried that you’re toeing a fine line of sending him running again if you don’t choose your words carefully.

“Angel..”

He settles his thumb over your mouth, effectively silencing you as he gently strokes the pad of his calloused thumb across your bottom lip.

“I always come home.” He whispered, leaning down and tracing the tip of his nose across your jawline. “I will always come home to you.”

“I thought I’d scared you off.” You admit softlyly, reaching your hand down to caress his cheek, the light stubble rough against your skin.

He leans into your touch, his eyes slipping closed as he draws in a shaky breath.

“You could never scare me off.”

His jaw clenches and he opens his eyes, looking at you with a haunted gaze.

“If anything I’m scared of myself, doll.”

You move to sit up, wanting nothing more than to take him in your arms, chase the demons from behind his eyes with the comfort of your loving embrace but he’s quick to place a large hand between your breasts, firmly pressing you back down onto the mattress.

“No.”

He repositions himself above you, dipping his head and bracing his weight on his muscular forearms as he trails a line of open mouthed kisses down your bare abdomen.

His breath fans against the soft cotton of your panties as he hooks his fingers under the waistband and removes them at a torturously slow pace.

“I don’t wanna talk about me and my bullshit.” He says in a low voice, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh and sending a shiver up your spine.

“Actually, I don’t wanna talk at all.” He adds, lifting your legs to rest over his shoulders.

“Bucky.” You warn softly, reaching your hand down to push his hair off his forehead. “We really should talk about this. We can’t avoi-”

He steals the words from you when he gently spreads your folds with his fingers, his breathy chuckle warm against your sex.

“I’ve got a much better way to make use of my mouth.” He murmurs, bowing his head and glancing up at you with lustful eyes. The image of him between your thighs, looking at you with such intensity was enough to silence you entirely.

“Let me show my angel what heaven feels like.”

A desperate moan rises from your throat as Bucky laps at your weeping cunt in long, slow strokes with his flattened tongue. He laves upward, tracing gentle circles around your clit, catching the swollen bud between his lips and suckling, your back arching off the mattress in response.

“Fuck.” You whimper, carding your hands in his hair to hold him in place.

He hums, flitting the tip of his tongue downwards and dipping into your fluttering hole, drawing a gasp from your throat as he fucks you with it, euphoria building at the base of your spine.

“For an angel-“ He mumbles and raises his head up, his unshaven chin slick with your arousal, pinning you under his gaze as he sinks two fingers inside you and begins pumping them slowly.

“You sure do taste like sin.” He muses.

He latches back onto your clit, flicking his tongue in quick movements while simultaneously curling his fingers inside you, stroking you closer towards climax with every ministration.

“Baby, I- fuck!”

Fire erupts through your core and you clench around his fingers, tightening your grip on his hair and jerking your hips upward to grind your cunt against his face as you cry out in ecstasy.

He chuckles against your tender flesh as he withdraws his digits, the warmth of his breath causing you to writhe against the sheets as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You’re so goddamned beautiful when you come.” He whispers, wiping his mouth on his forearm and shifting his weight against the bed as he rises momentarily up to discard his boxers.

He positions himself above you, bracing himself on his palms, his biceps flexing as he dips down to press a kiss to your pulse point.

Dazed and breathless, you reach down to guide him to your entrance, pausing when your hand curls around the warmth of his bare cock.

“Shit, condom.” You mumble, working to maneuver yourself out from under him in order to reach towards the bedside table.

He stops you with a loose grasp around your throat, gently pushing you back into the pillows.

“Don’t need one.” He breathes out, settling himself between your slick thighs.

Your brows furrow in confusion and your mouth falls open in question but he carefully slides his hand up your neck to grip your jaw, pulling you into a deep and sensual kiss.

You slide your hands across the expanse of his toned back, returning the kiss with equal intensity before he breaks it, resting his forehead against yours.

He silently guides your hand to his hard and aching cock, closing your fist around it as he releases a shuddered breath against cheek.

“You’re gonna take my cock.” He grunts, peppering kisses across your jawline. “You’re gonna take my cum.”

He bucks his hips against your grip, urging you to bring him against your weeping hole.

“And you’re going to have my baby.”

Your eyes widen at his words, the quiver in his voice telling you this isn’t just some form of dirty talk but that he’s sincere and desperate.

“Bucky, are you sure?” You ask in a broken whisper, clarifying for good measure.

“You are going to have my baby.” He repeats, his voice carrying demand.

You let out a whimper, lining him up with your entrance and withdrawing your hand once he presses the leaking tip of his cockhead into your cunt, quickly burying himself inside you with a purposeful thrust of his hips.

You gasp at the stretch and he stills, his pelvis flush against you, sucking in a sharp breath at the way your inner walls are gripping him, free of the confines of a condom for the very first time.

“Goddamnit, angel. I don’t think I’m going to last very long.” He chokes out, the feeling of your tight, wet cunt engulfing his cock leaving him nearly breathless.

God, what he would do to stay inside you like this forever.

He draws his hips back, retreating almost completely before thrusting back into you. His lips part and his brows knit, breathy moans rising from his throat as he picks up a rhythm, his very soul craving to feel you around every inch of his length.

His hunger for you is apparent with every deep and merciless thrust and that sense of needful longing sets your every nerve ablaze.

He crashes his mouth against yours, kissing you frantically as reaches for your hands, lacing your fingers together in a fervent grip.

Pleasure pools low in your abdomen and you bring your trembling legs up to wrap around his waist, rolling your hips up in sync with his strokes as you chase your climax.

He groans in response and increases his pace, his heavy sack slapping against your ass with every frenzied rut into you.

“Oh fuck, please, baby. Please come on my cock. God, I need to feel you. Fuck, fuck!” He pleads with a shuddering breath that betrays how desperately he’s fighting to maintain his tempo as he climbs closer towards the edge with every passing second.

The sight of this beautiful man barely able to refrain from falling apart for you, begging for you to come on his cock, is enough to break you. White hot pleasure spreads through your core, flooding your body in a wave of euphoria as you cry out for him in choked sobs.

“Bucky! James, baby!”

He pounds into you at a brutal pace, incapable of holding himself back any longer, drawing strangled noises from you as he fucks you through the waves of the orgasm gripping your body.

“I love you, I love you, I-“ You whimper over and over in a cock-drunk stupor, rocking your pelvis sloppily against his movements.

He grunts, his hips stuttering as he stammers out your name in a breathless plea before giving one final deep thrust and he stills, emptying himself inside you with a throaty moan.

Bucky slumps forward burying his face into your neck, words of praise falling from his lips in a whisper against your skin as you remain in each other's embrace, hearts racing and chests heaving in the afterglow.

The steady thumping of his heartbeat begins to lul you towards a state of peaceful sleep and as your eyes slip closed, you feel the bitter emptiness of him withdrawing from inside you only to jerk back to full consciousness at the sensation of his fingertips against the tender flesh of your swollen cunt.

As you start to rise up on your elbows in order to better observe what it is he’s doing, he softly shushes you, smirking as he trails his fingers along your slit, gathering up any of his seed that had managed to escape your aching hole and gently pump it back in with his fingers.

“Not letting you waste a drop.” He murmurs, collapsing onto the bed beside you and reaching an arm around your waist to pull your back against his broad chest.

He envelops you in his warmth, his strong arms wrapped lovingly around you as he rests his nose against the crown of your head, slowly and deeply inhaling your scent.

“What made you change your mind?” You ask softly, snuggling your cheek against the bicep of his flesh arm.

His vibranium arm drapes across your abdomen and he splays his palm above your pelvic bone, gently brushing the cool metal of his thumb back and forth in affectionate strokes along your bare skin.

“You.” He replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Me?” You ask incredulously. “How the hell did I manage to change your mind about something you were so adamant about? We didn’t even talk about it, Buck. I just told you what I wanted.”

He sighs, settling his chin atop your head. “You’re right, we didn’t.” He admits in a low voice. “But you know I’m a man of few words, angel.”

“But that doesn’t mean we just avoid the subject completely and then jump headfirst into this. Not that I’m complaining, it’s just that I need to understand how you managed to get here. That was- this was unexpected.” You respond, placing a gentle hand over his forearm and stroking your fingertips lazily across the spray of soft, dark curls adorning it. “You say you’re a man of few words but I know damn well you have a lot to say, you just don’t like saying it. You don’t like grappling with your emotions, Bucky. I think maybe its because you spent so long having them repressed against your will.”

He’s silent for a beat before drawing in a slow breath and in those several moments of quiet you feel a rising sense of dread that maybe you had overstepped with your assessment.

“Do you know why I call you ‘angel’?” He asks quietly, his thumb stilling against your lower belly.

You tilt your head in confusion. “What?” You question, your own fingers slowing their leisurely circles along his arm. “Baby, you’re deflecting.”

“I’m not.” He explains, raising his head, his thumb resuming its languid strokes across your skin. “Just answer my question.”

You huff, resisting the urge to roll your eyes by instead moving them back and forth to follow the movements of his thumb. “It’s a pet name, like baby or doll.”

He shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

“It’s a pet name, yeah. But do you know why I call you that?” He asks.

You shrug. “No, I guess I don’t.” You reply, tilting your head back to look up at him. “Are you gonna tell me?”

His lips curve into a smile as he looks down at you and in the dim light of the bedroom you notice how glassy his eyes appear, as if he’s just a blink away from a tear escaping his blue eyes.

“Because you saved me.” He whispers with a small crack in his voice that makes your heart ache. You want to ask him how- how he could possibly say something as bold as that you saved him, but your breath is caught in your chest at the vulnerability Bucky is showing you in this moment.

“Baby, when you met me I was so broken. I think maybe I still am.” He continues, resting his cheek against your shoulder in a clear attempt to hide his expression from you because he was stubborn and you were right. Emotion was not something Bucky expressed freely because he spent nearly his entire life with them suppressed so if he had any hope of baring his soul to you now, he couldn’t possibly let you see his face as he did it.

“No one dared to get close to me because they were too afraid of getting cut on the shattered pieces of who I was. But not you. Never you.” He explains, pausing as he draws in a slow and shaky breath while he considers how to express how much you mean to him when he wasn’t entirely sure there were even words capable of doing so.

In his brief pause you shift your weight, rolling over to face him properly before he continues.

“You didn’t care if you got cut because you saw something in me worth believing in and you weren’t afraid to bleed to get to it. You rebuilt me. You saved me.” His voice is hoarse as he struggles to hold his composure and keep from breaking down completely. “Your faith in me gave me hope- it gives me hope that maybe I’m capable of more than I think I am.”

A single tear finally breaks free, slipping free of his lashes and sliding slowly down his cheek in the wake of his heart lay bare to you.

“You give me too much credit.” You whisper, reaching up to brush away his tear with a trembling thumb. Your touch lingers on his skin and he places his hand overtop yours, pressing your palm to his cheek as he pins you under his tender gaze.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He counters.

“Neither do you.”

He opens his mouth to argue but closes it and sighs when he realizes you’re right. You’re always right.

“I love you. I love all of you- every single piece, including ones you say are broken.” You whisper, offering him a soft smile as you gently push the hair back from his sweat-slicked forehead.

“They are broken.” He breathes out.

“I don’t think that’s true. If it were, could you really love me the way that you do? Think about it, Bucky. After everything you’ve suffered? You’re not broken, you’re unbreakable.”

He hesitates, running his hand down his face to mask the way it crumples at your words and wipe away the tears now falling steadily down his cheeks.

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispers.

You sit upright, leaning forward and cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You deserve everything, Bucky. Life owes you love. It owes you kindness for fucks sake.”

“Not after what I’ve done.” He mutters, the ghosts of his past flickering behind his eyes as he begins to retreat down that godforsaken rabbit hole inside his head again but you won’t allow it. Not this time.

“Especially after what you’ve done. Because you weren’t given a choice.”

He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut as if he can’t bear to let you see him this way.

“And what happens when they find out who- what I used to be?” He asks in a pained tone, nodding towards your belly as if he somehow believes his seed has already taken root in your womb. “They’ll find out. We won’t be able to shelter them from the truth.”

“Baby, look at me.” You demand, your expression stern as you rise up and lean forward on your knees. “Will it matter when they only know you as the you that you truly are? How can I make you see yourself the way that I see you?”

Bucky sighs, his shoulders slouching. “What would I do without you?” He asks quietly, resting his hand against your thigh and kneading the flesh beneath his fingers.

“Never have clean laundry or dishes.” You tease in an attempt to lighten the sullen mood. He stares up at you in disbelief for several long moments before unexpectedly delivering a swift smack to your bare ass, drawing a yelp from you that is immediately followed by a string of lighthearted giggles.

“Damnit, doll- I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” You argue, stifling a laugh. “I found a cereal bowl under the bed!”

He groans, covering his face with his hands. “It was one time.”

You smirk, your eyebrow quirking up in skepticism.

“That’s one time too many.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He grumbles.

“But you love me.”

He hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace with a dramatic groan and you rest your head against his chest, draping your arms around his neck.

“I do.” He whispers, tracing his fingertips along your spine. “More than I could ever begin to explain.”

“A broken man couldn’t love me. A broken man wouldn’t know how to love me.” You point out. “And God, baby- you make me feel loved every moment of every single day.”

His breath catches and you can hear his heartbeat begin to quicken in his chest against your ear before he rolls over abruptly, pinning you underneath him as he looks down at you with an expression of adoration and that familiar fire in his gaze.

You tilt your chin up, a grin stretching across your face as you place your palm against his chest and state proudly, “You are James Buchanan Barnes and you are-“

He devours the words from your mouth before you can finish speaking them as he kisses you with urgency, stealing the breath from your lungs with the way his mouth moves desperately against yours.

Your hands explore his toned back, the feeling of his muscles flexing under your touch driving you to greedily draw his body closer to yours until he settles his weight onto you.

He breaks the kiss with a smirk on his lips as your head falls back, sucking in a sharp inhale at the warmth of his cock pressing into the soft flesh of your bare thigh, already hard and weeping for you again.

He lowers his head, nuzzling his forehead against your temple as he completes your stolen sentence in a whisper against the shell of your ear:

“Unbreakable.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@badbunnybabygirl01 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @wintrsoldrluvr @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe @ihavetwoholesforareason @km-ffluv @shortnloud @mrs-katelyn-barnes @somnorvos @22rhianna2006 @misshale21 @angelbaby99 @deans-spinster-witch @kezibear @alexakeyloveloki @terry2227 @acornacreacure

[kenjakusbraincum]

Heey, I LOVE your writings on soft sukuna, you write so beautifully🩷 please can you do one where he is jealous (fluff)😭🩷

Thank you sm for the kind words!!! Here's my best attempt at doing your idea justice <3

Sukuna has no real reason to be jealous. He practically owns you, controls every aspect of your life, who or what could he possibly be jealous of? Every servant who dared approach you in an inappropriate way would be dealt with swiftly. And you're a good pet, who has eyes for no one other than your master. You really don't give him a reason.

But there's this one thing... Since you've been so good and obedient, Sukuna has allowed you many liberties. You're permitted to skip around the mansion, watch Uraume cook, even enjoy little hobbies. You've tried many before you found that crocheting particularly piqued your interest. Ever since you've learned the basics, you've been spending hours working on perfecting your skills. At first it was cute, watching you squint in concentration as you move the hook. But then the math became really simple - having this hobby to keep you busy meant you approached Sukuna out of boredom a lot less. And he noticed it. It irked him, but you're not technically doing anything wrong. You were still as happy to serve him as ever, he just had to ask. But why would he have to ask? You should be all over him on your own. He should have to push you away, not beg you to give him attention. He didn't like this disturbance in your master and pet balance that this little hobby of yours caused.

He stands at the door now. You're crocheting again. You and your favorite servant laugh at your failed creation so sweetly, you don't even notice he's waiting. He clicks his tongue to establish his presence, and your servant falls to her knees immediately. You however, are not held to that high of a standard anymore.

"Master!", you call him, and hop up to greet him with a deep bow. Before he can say anything, you've picked up the piece of fabric you've been working on and ran into his arms to show him.

He looks at the ugly form and scoffs. "This is what I'm sponsoring?", he says and pulls a loose piece of yarn, making your little creation fall apart. He always was a bully, but you note his bad mood.

"I'm only a beginner...", you sulk.

"That much is obvious.", he flicks the yarn away and it falls onto the floor. Before you can bend to pick it up, he seizes your wrist and pulls you back. "Aren't you a little young to waste time with hobbies for the elderly?", he asks. You look at him with your cutest, practiced doe eyes, but it doesn't work.

"Come, pet. I know an activity more suitable for your age.", he says when you don't respond, and steps out of the room. You hop after him, unaffected by his condescending comments. You know that they're just for show. If he really thought you were a hag, you would've been gone a long time ago.

"Sitting at your throne all day?", you tease innocently and join him at his side, sliding your arm underneath one of his. You hope your playfulness will distract him from whatever is bothering him. "Or in a bath?" His lower set of eyes peeks at you and smirks, noticing that you're feeling particularly daring today. He's not sure how he feels about that. "Or in your bed." He rolls his eyes gently and opens the door to his chambers.

"At least then you'd be serving your purpose and actually spending time with your master.", he comments and shuts the door. His comment catches you a bit off guard and you stop in front of his bed. He makes his way towards you, and you look up at him with an insulted expression.

"Master, are you jealous of a ball of yarn?", you ask playfully, and squeal when he suddenly pushes you down to sit on the bed. Now you're at eye level... with his crotch.

"You've got quite a big mouth today. Put it to good use for a change, will you?", he runs his hand from the crown of your head to the back of your neck. You seem to have struck a nerve, so it really is the ball of yarn. Is it possible that Sukuna is this clingy?

"Will you?", he repeats and tugs on your hair and narrows his eyes. You smile obediently and reach behind him to untie his obi.

"Yes Master."

-

You try your best to manage the time you spend crocheting from then on, working on productivity in the hours that you dedicate to developing this skill. And it helps that you have a specific goal in mind now: helping Sukuna realize that this hobby is a friend, not an enemy. He still catches you engaging in it sometimes, and gives you a dirty look, but you're as quick as ever to drop what you're doing and join him. That seems to satisfy him.

When you're finally happy with the result of your creation, you look for Sukuna around the mansion. It's not really that hard to find him, as he frequents three places most of all: the dining room, his bedroom and his throne room. This time, he's sitting on his throne, and a small line of people wait for their turn to be gifted his attention. You on the other hand, don't have to wait in line to get it. His lower set of eyes spots you the moment you enter the chamber. You're allowed to roam the mansion, but barging in unannounced is not standard even for you.

Still, Sukuna has learned that you usually only feel daring enough to cross boundaries when you're sure he'll like what you have in mind. So for now, he will let this slide. He's bored as hell anyways. The people are dismissed and you pass by them on your way to his throne, nestled on a pile of bones. You stop in front of it and greet him with a bow.

"Master, I come to you with a humble offering.", you say with your hands on your thighs and your eyes fixated on the ground.

"Show me.", he says simply, but you recognize entertainment in his voice. You climb up the bones and feel his stare scan you from head to toe, before you sit on his knee.

"May I ask you to close your eyes?", you ask and flutter your lashes. Oh the way you seduce him. Who else could ask Sukuna to do something as dangerous as close his eyes? Give his opponent valuable time to land an attack. Who else could dare? And who else would he ever listen to and really close his eyes? Really do as he's told? Oh how safe he feels with you.

You take one of his large hands into yours, and gently pry his long fingers away to open his palm. He has beautiful hands. The only ones you've ever known, but you're sure they're the most beautiful hands in the world. So dangerous, so elegant. You want to press a kiss to his palm, but you hope your gift will have the same, maybe even more profound effect.

Something soft touches his skin, and then you speak, as politely as before. "You may look.", in your softest voice. And when he opens his eyes, he finds himself looking at you first. You're an offering on your own.

Then he looks at his hand. Two crocheted plush figures resembling him and yourself lay flat on his palm, connected through their holding hands. At first glance, it looks like they're two separate creations. In a sense, they are, but... He tries to part them.

"We're sewn together.", you explain. He hums in amusement and inspects your gift more closely. His plush is bigger, recognizable by the pink hair and four buttons for eyes. It's even wearing his favorite kimono. Yours is smaller and less detailed. You look like any other human when placed next to him, insignificant. But in a sea of pets, entertainers and lovers he's had in the past, he would never fail to recognize it as you.

He's spent so long looking at it with that face of his that you just can't read. You're starting to grow restless in his lap, and he feels your eyes dwell into his soul. When he looks back at you with one pair of eyes, your brows are furrowed in worry and you're fiddling your hands in your lap. He pats you on the head and pulls you closer, so you have no choice but to lean on his frame.

"It's beautiful, darling.", his fingers run through your hair, scraping your scalp softly. "No loose threads either.", he looks at you with all four eyes now, and you feel so small in his arms. You're not used to receiving this many compliments from Sukuna at once. Not ones that weren't directed at your body or performance. Especially not when he's looking at you so tenderly, when every word sounds so loving and genuine. "You've improved so much.", his hand is on your face now, and you catch him glancing at your lips. You part them to start thanking him, but you already know how much he hates listening to that.

You stay quiet instead, and lean closer, letting him take you. And he kisses you so softly, fingertips light against your heated skin. You feel like you're floating, like a lily pad in a warm pond. The littlest gesture of his affection has you melting in his embrace. The power he has over you... and how wonderful it is to surrender yourself to it.

None of the liberties and privileges you've been awarded with compare to this. You know that many pets have walked these halls before you. Many warmed his bed and claimed the title of his favorite. But how many loved him like this? Enough to dedicate time of their day to making intricate gifts. How many could say Sukuna kissed them lovingly, for no other reason than to show gratitude and affection?

You're flushed completely red by the time his lips leave yours. You can't hold the intensity of his gaze, as he stares at you in adoration. "I'm happ.. I'm glad you l-like it...", you stumble through the words and win a giggle out of him. You are just so cute. Like a pet should be. He rubs your head again and pushes you away lightly.

"Go now, the people await me.", he says with a benevolent smile gracing his face. "I'll see you tonight."

You bow to him and leave.

And when you visit him that night, he is as gentle as he was when he kissed you earlier, still in a good mood after your gift. Caressing your hair, shoulders and back, as you lay comfortably with your head on his chest. Keeping you warm in his embrace. You're trying your best to follow the conversation, but sleep is slowly taking over you. Sukuna notices and plants a kiss to your forehead, wishing you goodnight. The last thing you see before your eyes close, is your handcrafted plushies sitting on his nightstand.

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirtling skills part 10.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

Levi must have been too confident in his self-defense capabilities to agree to go somewhere unfamiliar, possibly inside a house he hadn’t been to before, and, overall, without telling anyone. He considered it a perk of being an Ackerman; there was no chance that anything happening there could be a real threat.

That, and thanks to his Ackerman powers, he was irreplaceable to the Scouts. Erwin was not going to be pleased when he realized Levi had disappeared in the middle of the event.

‘I know I have good judgment,’

But the moment they stepped foot into the bustling city, where the cobblestone streets were alive with the energy of the king’s coronation, she seized the opportunity. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she gripped the collar of his suit and pulled him into a kiss. Her lips met his with a fierce passion, and before he could react, she had backed herself against the cool brick wall, dragging him with her. 

He could taste the faint sweetness of the coctails on her lips as she tugged him closer, her hands fisting the fabric of his suit's collar. That goodjugement had abandoned him the second he could finally feel her lips against his. Levi’s breath hitched at the sudden intensity, his mind momentarily blank as he responded to the kiss, his hands instinctively finding her waist. The noise of the festival, the laughter, and the music all faded into the background. All that mattered was the feeling of her lips against his, the warmth of her body pressed to his. 

Under anyother occasion, Levi would have minded to be tongue kissing someone at a random hallways in the middle of a festival. But when his hands could finally trace the cruve of her hips as they moved from her waist to her hips, nothing else mattered. It felt like any of the fantaises he had envisoned under a steamy shower or trying to relax a bit after work on his desk, finally between his hands. 

Sweeter than he anticipated, softer. He groaned against her lips as one hand moved to the back of her head to push her closer, frowning while trying to take her breath away. But as he was trying to push closer, he felt her grin on her lips. 

But just as quickly as it had begun, she broke away. A spark danced in her eyes, mischievous and daring, and for a second, he caught a glimpse of what felt like a challenge. She didn't say a word—didn't need to. She slipped from his grasp like smoke, a laugh bubbling past her lips, leaving him with a sudden rush of cold air where her warmth had been. 

‘What the hell?’ 

“Oi!” Levi shouted but her words dissapeared on the waves of people. 

He watched her dart into the crowd, her laughter trailing behind her, almost swallowed by the swell of the festival-goers. For a moment, Levi was still. He could sense every heartbeat, every movement around him—the push and pull of bodies in the crowd, the distant shouts of vendors, the rhythmic beat of drums further down the street. His instincts screamed at him to stay put, to remain in control. 

“Tch,” With a low, resigned growl, he pushed off the wall, his sharp gaze honing in on the trail she left. “She got me chasing her around since day one,” At this rate, he was talking to himself, cursing under his breath. He’d make her pay for that little stunt. And he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight. His shoes barely made a sound on the cobblestones as he weaved through the crowd, his movements swift and precise, honed by years of maneuvering through much more dangerous places. 

She was quick, he’d give her that—slipping between groups of revelers, vanishing behind a cluster of stalls only to reappear further ahead. He caught flashes of her in the flickering lantern light: the glint of her hair, the swirl of her skirt. She was leading him somewhere. Somewhere specific. 

As soon as their eyes met, she flashed him a teasing smile that seemed to say, if you can. Levi's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing with determination. She was baiting him, and damn it, he was taking it. ‘When I caught you...’ 

He picked up the pace, his footsteps echoing off the cobblestones, his focus sharpening as the noise of the festival fell away. 

The alley was dark, lit only by the occasional flickering lantern. He was close now—he could feel it. And then, he saw her. She stood at the entrance of an apartment building, her back pressed against the door, watching him with that same playful glint in her eyes. She waited until he was just a breath away before slipping inside. 

But the moment he reached for her, she slipped through the door and slammed it shut right in his face. He could hear the muffled sound of her laughter through the heavy wood. 

“Y/N!” He scoffed out her name as both of their faces were inches away, only the fusing glass of the front door separating them.  

"If you're such a good thug, break in before I reach my floor." 

Levi's eyes widened slightly, a mixture of disbelief and a grudging admiration. She was pushing every one of his buttons, but he'd be damned if he let her win this round. His lips curled into a smirk—she wanted a challenge, and she'd get one 

“Damn it,” he began to search inside his suit something that he always carried with him, no matter where he went. Old habits died hard. Pulling out an army small knife, frowning as he placed the tool between the lock and the frame of the door. Knowing  too damn well how to break in. 

‘You are lucky I’m in a good mood, I would have fucking kicked the door in,’ 

‘I’m already winning your neighbour’s favour,’ 

There wasn’t a door in this damn city he couldn’t get through if he put his mind to it. As he twisted the knob around, he smirked to himself, “Holy fuck, I’m hard,” 

Levi worked swiftly, his fingers moving with practiced precision as he slipped the blade into the narrow gap. The click of the lock was faint, almost lost to the revelry outside, but it was music to his ears. His smirk deepened as the door yielded to him with a soft creak. 

'Too easy,' he thought, slipping the knife back into his pocket with a flick of his wrist. He pushed the door open just wide enough to slip through, his movements as fluid as a shadow. Inside, the stairwell loomed before him, dimly lit by a single bulb that flickered weakly overhead. 

Black metal railing, marbel steps. He glanced up, already catching the faint sound of her footsteps as she ascended the stairs.  Only to see her already halfway up the staircase, glancing back at him over her shoulder with widened eyes. She hadn't expected him to be so fast, not like this. The little squeak of surprise she left out that echoed throught the empty walls that late at night made him smirk. 

‘Well... isn’t it fucking cute?’ seeing how she tried to rush on in her stilleto while he bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time, his hand sliding along the railing for balance with the calmness of a cat that knows its playing with its prey since their chances of running away are thin. Her nervous laughter echoed down the stairwell, a siren's call urging him to keep pace, to push faster. 

Her feet barely touched the steps as she darted upwards, her breath quickening in time with her hurried ascent. But Levi was on her heels, his presence looming like a shadow that she couldn't shake. Before she could reach for her door, his hand shot out, not rough but unyielding, catching her by the arm and pulling her back with an ease. 

With a swift motion, he hoisted her up, slinging her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. She let out a startled yelp, her legs kicking in a half-hearted protest as her fists pounded lightly against his back. Levi held her firmly, his grip unbreakable as he ascended the last steps, his breath steady despite the exertion. 

“What the hell, Levi!” she gasped, trying to twist around to get a better look at him, but his hold was secure, Her struggles against his shoulder were little more than a nuisance. Her puffy skirt bunched up awkwardly against his shoulder, revealing the frilly white can-can underneath, a flash of fabric that contrasted innocently against the dark maroon shade of her dress. 

“Shhh,” he chided softly, a teasing lilt in his tone. “You’re going to wake up your posh neighbors.” His voice was low, almost a purr. 

She huffed in exasperation, her attempts to free herself growing weaker. “You’re going to make my cats sneak out!” she protested, her voice tinged with genuine concern as they approached the front door of her apartment. 

Levi glanced down at the keys still clutched in her hand, then smoothly plucked them from her grasp with a deftness that made her gasp. “Don’t worry, girly,” he murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. “I’ve got hands for everything.” 

He reached the door, her body still slung over his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. With a flick of his wrist, he slotted the key into the lock, twisting it with practiced ease. 

The apartment was in complete darkness as he slap the door close with a kick, making sure that the three animals that were coming over while stretching their paws in the air were  safetily inside. Trying to not step in any of them, swinging around an unknown place, Levi reached the livingroom and let her fall on the couch. 

She landed on the couch with a soft thud, her hair fanning out in wild disarray, and before she could even catch her breath, Levi was already on top of her. His movements were swift and unrelenting, like a predator finally claiming its prey after a long hunt. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow seeping in through the gaps in the curtains, casting shadows that danced across the walls. 

Her cats darted around, curious but cautious. One peeked at them from over the table, while another ran back to a room, petrified after realizing there was an unknown presence in the house. The last one began to scratch at the glass of the balcony door, begging to be let outside. Maybe on another occasion, Levi would have minded having a pair of eyes watching them so intently. 

But at that moment the only thing crossing his mind was how jis knees dug into the cushions between her legs, pinning her in place. Sliding them apart to get a steady possition. The smirk that had never quite left his lips deepened, dark eyes scanning her flushed face, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. 

“Finally, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, his voice gravelly and low, vibrating with barely contained desire. His gaze roamed over her, lingering on the swell of her breasts. “An entire year wet dreaming about this moment,” he added, his tone dripping with the raw honesty of a man who’s spent far too many nights haunted by the thought of her, of this. 

Once her arms wrapped around his neck and she lifted up to connect their lips, Levi didn’t need a second invitation. He leaned down, capturing her lips with a fervor that left no room for second thoughts. The kiss was searing, their mouths colliding with a desperate, almost bruising intensity. The sound of their smacking kiss against eachother echoed in the empty apartment and mixed with the continous insistance of the cat scratching the glass. 

Levi's lips moved with a fierce urgency, each kiss growing hungrier than the last, as if he were trying to make up for all the nights he had spent fantasizing about this exact moment. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until there was nothing but the press of their bodies and the heat building between them. He groaned softly against her mouth, his hands roaming her sides, his grip firm yet controlled. 

His hands eagerly moved backward, searching for the zipper of her dress. He fumbled for a moment, then managed to locate it and began to pull it down. 

“Ah—” she moaned softly, both of their hair turning into a mess. She broke the kiss with a chuckle. “Slow down, Soldier,” she teased as he was already trying to undress her hastily. 

“Slow down? You got me chasing you around Mitras like an idiot,” he groaned, finally breaking the kiss as he threw his jacket off. Slightly sitting up, she gripped his face while they shared a sloppy kiss. This made it easier for him to start rolling down the upper part of her dress, and soon he was kissing her collarbones, descending to the valley of her breasts. 

The cat’s loud meows and persistent pawing were impossible to ignore, creating a background symphony that contrasted sharply with their passionate encounter. 

Levi's desire only intensified, his body responding to the heat of her skin pressed against his. He could feel his cock pulsing against the tight fabric of his trousers. “Mh—” she hummed, a mix of a moan and a giggle, as his hands moved to knead one of her breasts covered by sheer black lingerie that did little to hide her hardened nipples. 

She mumbled something, but Levi was too focused on how soft her breast felt against his hands, how their bodies pressed together, grinding against each other through their clothes. “Levi—” Her soft moans urged him on, but there was a hint of urgency in her voice that he barely registered. 

“Levi, wait,” she panted, pushing lightly against his chest. Levi groaned in exasperation as she created space between them. Her chest felt cold from the saliva he left behind after sucking the inner part of her breast. The cat’s scratching at the glass persisted, growing louder and more demanding. “You got condoms, right?” she said between breaths, feeling his hardness pressing against her. 

Levi, already trying to resume the kiss, initially looked confused as his mind struggled to focus on anything other than continuing. “Right?” she insisted, slightly irritated. 

“Yes, yes,” he muttered, finally processing the question. “They’re in my jacket’s pocket,” 

“Levi,” she panted again, a hint of laughter bubbling in her voice as she turned her head to the side. “Open the balcony door. The cat wants out.” 

Levi blinked, momentarily thrown by the mundane request that felt worlds away from the heated moment they were in. His gaze flicked over to the fat ginger cat, its small paws scratching insistently at the glass of the balcony door, meowing in protest. 

Levi growled softly, his forehead resting against hers. “Seriously? Now?” His frustration was evident, but he didn’t hesitate. With a sigh, he shifted off her, his knee still pressed between her legs as he reached for the balcony door over’s the couch’s back. The city’s noise poured into the room as he slid the door open, letting the cool night air and the eager cat outside. The feline slipped past them with a flick of its tail, clearly satisfied. 

She smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks.” 

Levi just shook his head, leaning back down to capture her lips once more. His lips found their way to her neck, trailing kisses that sent shivers down her spine, his hands resuming their exploration. Her hands traced his chest, moving down to his groin, and gripped him over his clothes. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, breaking their kiss as they both panted against each other's faces. He frowned deeply, gritting his teeth as she moved her hand up and down over his trousers. 

“I want to taste you, Cap,” she purred, their faces only inches apart. 

The mischievous grin on her face was driving him crazy. ‘Where have you been my entire life?’ 

“What a good girl, asking for permission,” his husky voice murmured as one of his hands traced her thigh beneath her skirt, crumpling it up. He gave her thigh a good squeeze before smacking it lightly. “Go on, get on your knees and work for me.” 

“Ngh!” she faked a complaint before grinning and slowly descending onto the couch. Her hands unbuckled his trousers, slowly lifting up his shirt. 

He caught a glimpse of her eyes, enhanced by the makeup she wore for the party, looking up at him before she began to kiss the bottom of his stomach, tracing his happy trail. 

‘Holy fuck—okay, asshole, think of the entire Scouts’ formation for the upcoming expedition,’ his mind scrambled to count names as he tried to make sure he wouldn’t finish just from seeing her between his legs. Head thrown back, ready to enjoy it all, a faint voice from the street caught their attention. 

It made her stop momentarily as the voice became more familiar. Levi’s eyes opened to see what was going on. His hand moved to caress her hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail, trying to get back into the moment as she hesitantly returned. 

Then again, this time she straining to hear.  Her roommate's voice, calling out her name, barely audible over the closed windows and din of the celebration. 

‘No— No fucking way,’ Levi packed as he reached downwards trying to suck the sweet spot on the crook of her neck, luring her back on it. 

“Levi, wait—” she started, her voice faltering as he nipped playfully at her ear, his fingers skimming the hem of her dress. 

“Just ignore it,” he murmured against her skin, his tone edged with frustration. “They’ll go away.” 

‘God... you’ve given me the worst fucking luck my entire life. You’ve never played in my favour, not even when I was a little kid. Please, for fuck’s sake, make her say that we can keep going if we stay quiet. I’m begging you; I’ll turn into a believer.’ 

But the voice outside grew louder, more insistent. Her roommate was talking to someone, and the words filtered up through the open balcony, catching their attention. 

“She’s just up there,” the roommate was saying, sounding exasperated. “Her cat’s on the balcony; she’s definitely home.” 

Levi froze, his eyes narrowing in irritation. Her eyes widened in realization, and she quickly pushed Levi away, sitting up to re-adjust her dress. “Levi, my friends,” she said, smoothing down her hair as she stood up and rushed her way. 

Levi’s brows furrowed, his jaw clenched in a silent battle of annoyance and reluctant understanding. He watched as she moved to the balcony, sliding the door open and leaning over the railing to see her roommate below, standing next to another friend who looked worse for wear, slumped and swaying. 

‘I’ve never hated an animal so fucking much in my entire life,’ he half-closed his eyes in pure hatred as he watched the fat male cat swagger back into the flat once the door opened. ‘Just because they cut your balls off and you don’t have fun anymore doesn’t mean you have to cockblock me too, you little shit.’ 

Levi let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he sat back on the couch. 

“I’ll be right down!” she called, then turned to Levi with a concerned look on her face. “My friend’s not feeling well. I need to help them get inside.” 

‘I really gotta be the man with the worst luck inside the walls,’ 

Levi’s jaw tightened; the disappointment clear in his narrowed gaze. 

“You can’t be serious,” he said, a mix of disbelief and resignation lacing his words. “Now?” 

She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, her lips lingering for just a moment before pulling back. “Don’t give me that look,” she teased, grabbing her keys from the table. “Come on,” she said softly, pleading with her eyes “I need you to help carry her. Please?” 

Levi rubbed the back of his neck, muttering under his breath, the thrill of their earlier encounter replaced by a twinge of reluctant responsibility. He cast one last glance at her, taking in the way her cheeks still held a faint flush, and her hair was slightly dishevelled. For a moment, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he exhaled sharply, giving a small nod. 

“Fine,” he grumbled as he put his trousers and shirt back on, trying to hide his erection by tucking it behind his belt. 

She moved quickly, her steps light but purposeful, and he kept pace behind her, his eyes still lingering on the curve of her hips as she descended. ‘I could have those riding me but no...’ 

As they reached the ground floor, she pushed open the heavy door to the street, and the cool night air rushed in. 

Her roommate stood there, trying to steady their friend who was leaning heavily against the brick wall, her face pale and eyes glazed. The moment her roommate spotted Levi, her eyes widened slightly in surprise. 

“Were you two... uh, did I interrupt something?” the ginger girl asked, glancing between Levi and Y/N. 

‘No... I’m here at 3 am without my jacket on because I got nothing better to do,’ 

Before Levi could respond, Y/N shot him a sharp look, silently warning him to keep quiet. She forced a smile, masking her embarrassment. “Nah, we just arrived. Levi was just walking me home,” she said, her voice firm and reassuring. 

Levi moved past them without a word, approaching the brunette who looked moments away from collapsing. He crouched slightly, slipping one arm under her knees and the other around her back, lifting her effortlessly. The friend groaned softly, her head lolling against his shoulder as he adjusted his grip, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. 

Her roommate, rubbing her arms as if to ward off a chill, leaned in closer, her voice low and tinged with anxiety. “I think someone spiked our drinks,” she whispered, her gaze darting nervously around. “I’m not feeling great either, but the hospitals are packed with all the celebrations going on. I figured we could just get home—we’ve got what we need, you know?” 

She nodded, concern creasing her brow.  “Yeah, makes sense,” she replied softly, glancing up at Levi as they ascended the stairs. 

As they walked, her roommate gave her a sideways glance, her curiosity piqued. “So... what are you guys doing here?” 

“The party was boring,” she lied, shrugging casually. “Levi was just walking me home.” 

Levi shot her a glance over his shoulder. ‘There goes my chances of getting a blow job.’ 

The brunette lay on the couch they had once been on, while the ginger was getting a glass of cold water since she wasn’t feeling well either. Y/N rushed around, trying to take their blood pressure and get a handle on the situation. 

“Thank you, you’re a saint,” the ginger said quietly, clearly not feeling well herself. 

‘Yeah, well... maybe I should start being an asshole, because being a saint hasn’t exactly helped me empty my balls,’ 

“Tch, nothing to thank,” he replied. 

Eventually, Y/N walked him to the front door once again. “Sorry... well, at least you’ll have a reason to come back from the expedition,” she teased him as he lingered at the front of her building with an annoyed stare. She leaned in and gave him a soft peck on the lips. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll think of you tonight,” she whispered against his mouth. 

“Can I stay by and watch while you do?” he said, half joking, half serious. She scoffed, entertained, and gave him one last peck. 

“Get home safe, Lev.” 

As the door he had broken into not long ago shut in his face, he clicked his tongue and frowned in defeat. “Ow…” 

‘Maybe if I stay here and start scratching at it insistently... she’ll open up for me... like the cat.’ 

(Sorry for the delay, I had been very sick. Going back to the doctor all the time and I couldn't post it on time. Hope you can forgive me T-T)

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[occamstfs]

Green Eyes of Envy

Adam finds a necklace that promises anything his heart desires and nothing does he desire more than a body no one could deny.

Vaguely Halloweeny possession story based on a well-trodden trigger! Twink -> Jock -> Bear(ish?) IQ drain/corruption. Don't forget to vote on my Viral Transformation Story poll, only one day left! Hope you enjoy! -Occam

As soon as he sees the necklace lying on the ground Adam throws it on. So far it’s another subpar night spent going home alone from the bar, at least if he nabs a cute accessory there’ll be something gained. After throwing it on, when there’s a sudden buzzing in the back of his head that’s increasingly approximating a voice Adam chalks it up to his conscience trying to speak up about his and promptly ignores it.

Once he arrives home and takes time to stare at the medallion dangling on his thin chest however, he finds the voice may well have been something external, something supernatural. As a voice resounds in his head that is clearly not his own, “Adam is it?” Concluding he’s already fallen unconscious, hopefully indeed in his home, or that he’s had far too much to drink tonight for him to remember whatever he’s about to get into he plays along. “Whazzit to ya-” Realizing just what a goldmine position it has found itself in, the presence within the necklace prepares to strike.

From the drunken grumblings made by the young man in their short time together there is clearly insecurity to pray upon, and his new owner seems adverse to caution. The being within the necklace feels close enough to gaining a physical form, a body, it can almost taste it. It cannot slip up this close to the finish line and must act swiftly and with care, “So Adam, I take it you did not fare too well in your night on the town?” 

The drunken Adam’s small hands suddenly grasp the chain and pull slightly, moaning incoherently all the while. Feeling the tug the necklace quickly speaks up once more, “Woah woah woah my dear, do be careful! If you allow me, I can help you achieve your wildest dreams!” Eyes suddenly grow deathly serious as he hears the metallic voice speak in his head, “you cuh- anythin-?” 

Calculating faster than a human mind can, the voice seizes on the curiosity, banking that whatever the drunk asks will indeed be in his purview, “Anything.” The hitherto thoughtlessly lolling mouth curls into a smirk and his mind dances with the possibilities, “Uhhhh, genie ruleshh, ish it?” 

The medallion somehow sighs not wanting to highlight the potential, or fact rather, that it’s going to twist the man’s wish to his own end but sensing its holder’s brain seems the type to rarely make a connection deeper than surface level it concludes it should be fine. “Sure, something like that.” The chain jostles on Adam’s thin shoulders as he shrugs, “whateva- can you jussht give me the body of a fuckin’ stud?” Perfect. Mission accomplished.

Adam’s eyes flash green as the medallion does similarly, connecting them and giving whatever surely sinister being lies within the small coin carte blanche. Speaking from a deeper foothold in Adam’s mind the voice gives the perfunctory warning that any act of magic requires, “Do be wary of course, the inner bits of yourself have a nasty habit of matching the outer changes.” Though knowing that it’s now only a matter of time before it’s in control it begins to reveal it’s less than amicable side, “though given how fast you let me in it seems your deep inner tapestry hasn’t all too much to lose.”

Treating the slight as if it were the annoying buzz of an insect flying around his head, Adam quickly ignores the voice altogether and pulls out his phone to hunt for the perfect body. Lucky for the spirit Adam was already beyond horny before the necklace even graced his neck, so it is not long before his envious eyes find a man enthralling. In no time at all Adam is halfway drooling as he stares at some influencer’s massive pecs. He’s doing some skit but Adam doesn’t hear a word he says, as he stares his desire proves enough tinder for the spirit’s work to begin on his body.

Adam’s eyes simply flash green and laughter fills his mind, just as muscle begins to fill out his chest. Having always made excuses to shy away from the gym for one reason or another Adam smirks as he gropes his growing pecs. Suddenly bursting from non-existence into the by far largest muscles on his body, eclipsing his ass and thighs in a manner that should not be possible. Nipples surge larger as a few thick curls begin to smatter themselves across the burgeoning pecs. Nails scratching into the soft muscle Adam smirks as he imagines that no matter how hard he tries from here on out he could never hide these powerful pecs.

Emerald shade clearing from his eyes the aftereffects of his proud new chest are less than apparent. Rather than any grand changes to the horny drunk’s personality, the spirit simply allows the current drunken recklessness to seep in deeper. Suddenly the type to never back away from challenges even in a sober state, Adam smirks as he imagines all the heads that will turn when he gets a chance to show off his bulky new pecs. Though despite how impressive they are, they can’t be the only brawn on his body hm? Before the spirit even has a chance to seed the desire for more changes, Adam himself hungrily returns to the hunt for his own aggrandization.

Only having just faded back to his natural eye color his eyes quickly shade a darker green than even that of the medallion as Adam stares at the arms of a gymnast that pops into his feed. He clenches his jaw and reflexively flexes his arms as his weak biceps suddenly surge with the strength of someone who has spent a lifetime working towards his own betterment. He smirks as veins bulge down his biceps as his own laughter resounds even louder than that of the spirit in his own head. Forearms and triceps suddenly hold strength that hasn’t a hope to reasonably wield. 

Adam’s eyes then trail from the impressive arms towards what he always paid more attention to when the gymnast was trending, the man’s thick pits. Instantly does intense itching begin in Adam’s armpits. They burn with pleasure as a forest begins to surge outwards, growing thicker as he desires to be more than any man that pops onto his screen. The few hairs painting his chest rapidly expand in kind to compete with the dank jungles that now thrive and drip with sweat under his arms. Sitting there smirking as he tears his eyes away from his phone to delight in his new beyond hairy pits as rivers of musky sweat begin trickling down his bulging pecs and thick biceps.

Suddenly having the upper body of an Olympian, Adam’s mind grows foggy with a pride even greater than the sum of his impressive parts. Bouncing his pecs for the first time while doing a double bicep flex, Adam is filled with lust for his own form and a growing confidence that already no man could ever possibly resist him. He grunts and notices that his neck has similarly grown thicker, his voice resounding deeper as an adam’s apple bulges onto his previously smooth neck. Moaning as he takes a deep breath and enjoys his new heady musk, he feels his mind start to drift away from the pursuit of perfection and to instead just give in prematurely to hedonism as his larger hands inch towards his crotch. 

Before getting the chance the voice returns and whispers like a snake, “ahh ahh ahh Adam… We are not complete yet.” Looking down at his lower body he shakes off his horny delirium and agrees, rapidly returns to the more than mindless scrolling, thankfully easily able to hold up against the whims of his still average cock. Adam again does not have to search long before his eyes land upon men he longs to be, to have, to be with. His eyes once more glow a searing Emerald, and the medallion scarcely lights up, at the sight of two specimens that alight more jealousy than anything yet.

Memories of his anxieties and self-doubt quickly vacate as confidence imbues every inch of him, staring at the thick thighs and powerful calves of the bodybuilders he feels his power and pride grow to new heights. Immediately sending tears down the ratty old skinny jeans he wore to the bar, thighs that make it immediately clear that their owner could break a watermelon between them surge into existence. Finally regaining their top spot as the largest muscles on the body they grow larger than his pecs before being similarly outmatched by his ass growing firm and flexing larger with each hungry glance at the two men.

Legs cramping outward the spirit within Adam feels his ability to control the man almost come to a head. Adam doesn’t notice as his fingers twitch and flex beyond his control nor does he care as his toes strain in the air as his feet inch larger. Why does it matter that his chest is flexing without being told, it’s hot, Adam surely meant to do that anyway. Looking down and inspecting his new form, concern slides off his mind anyway as he sees hair begin to increase across his chest, rapidly shooting down abs that he didn’t even notice forming. 

He plays with the forest of hair beginning to shadow the whole of his torso as he feels similar stubble being to scratch against his chin. Tilting his head, his foggy mind struggles to wonder how he’s still changing without looking at men like the medallion instructed. Looking at his reflection in the mirror and seeing the impossibly alluring figure he has become however he decides to not care what the stupid thing said anyway. He must have gotten what he needs from it already.

Thoughtlessly he removes the necklace and tosses it away having decided he’s more than enough man. Only then does his bulge begin to grow beyond what he has always known it to be. There’s a sigh of relief and anticipation as he realizes he almost missed a chance to grow his cock with whatever that coin did to him. Face and chest burning red with blush he forces his hand into his crotch and smirks as he feels his thick fingers begin to tangle in his new bush. His free hand still dances across the bounty of chest hair and his new mustache scratches against his shoulder as he bathes in the new musk that resounds from his pits.

Mind clouded from his changes, having far too much to drink, and the cocktail of new hormones issuing forth from balls rapidly filling his briefs, Adam pulls out his larger cock and begins to go to town. Experiencing the new heights of pleasure that his dream body allows Adam loses himself to new ecstasy. His cock stretches to a size that rivals the forearm of a lesser man and his balls race to match the size his impressive body warrants. If it weren’t for his hand slowing down its thrusts it’s likely that Adam would never notice what was to happen to him next.

His face moves in unfamiliar patterns as something besides him stretches it to understand how to control it. Eyes slam shut as far as they can and then reopen, and Adam suddenly realizes that he can no longer move them of his own volition, and yet he still sees. Staring out from eyes seemingly out of his control, Adam feels his mouth smirk without instruction as a voice he has barely gotten the chance to use spills out from his thicker lips, “Well well young Adam. Excellent work thus far, think I’ll take over from here though lad.” 

Adam struggles for dominance as he finds himself but a voice in his own head, watching his new fingers dance at the end of powerful arms he scarcely had time to appreciate. He feels them flex and struggles not to give in to the delight of the power and continue fighting. Feeling himself not totally lost he endeavors a hail mary and focuses all his attention to the one thing that has always been able to override his mind in the past. His balls churn and his cock bounces as even whatever clearly powerful spirit now controlling his form is unable to resist his rising lusts. The need for release that suddenly blares through every sweaty inch of his skin and the being totally not used to self-control or human weakness struggles to not give in.

The spirit grunts as it remembers its tenuous position on reality, through its own suddenly clouded mind it goes into bargaining mode, struggling to stop their body from its uncontrollable thrusting into the air, “Ohh oh fuck okay, another deal. I can’t- We can’t cum yet or grgh- Please not yet!” Adam grinds the well-trodden neural pathways of lust to a halt as he desires to hear the being out. To signal his willingness to play ball, as well as out of the hope Adam should be better at staying his hand from masturbation, it allows Adam full control once more. Adam does begin playing with his cock immediately, moreso from the ever-pressing desire to cum rather than intimidation at expelling the spirit though it works for both. 

The spirit somehow clears his throat within Adam’s head, “To level, I am in here now, for good. But we can work out an arrangement, we can share. You can fuck and frot whatever, but every so often I’ll need a chance at the wheel for my own, uhm ends. Worry not, if anything it’ll only amount to more pleasure for yourself!” Adam cups his larger balls and struggles to understand the implications of this agreement. He hasn’t the capacity to care that his intellect seems to have diminished as his body grew, in fact as clearly duller words spill out of his mouth it only turns him on more, “Uuhhh, so we’ll share my body?”

Somehow rolling eyes he doesn’t have control over, the being realizes this must be a two way street and agrees, “Of course, you just let me do my thing and we’ll get along great.” Adam scratches his beard itching thicker and shrugs, “Sure dude, whatever.” At the lightest sign of agreement the spirit seizes control, too late does he realize his haste has caused him a misstep. Whether its his limited time in the corrupted mind of Adam forcing human err unto the spirit or simply from just how unprepared the spirit is to handle the overwhelming lust in Adam’s mind, rather than sharing control the two become irrevocably one in both body and mind. Whatever sinister priorities the spirit had rapidly shift to match the hedonistic needs of Adam. Rapidly fading into the bestial desire of Adam the spirit turns up its nose as it finds itself wanting to change their now shared form, “If we’re gonna share, uh bro, need a bit more space in here eh?”

With that, Adam’s eyes cross and he struggles to not burp as he feels his powerful form begin to bloat. His beard thickens as both minds become one and mass begins to pile onto his torso as abs grow into a bulky muscle gut underneath his still impressive pecs. Scratching his ass as it too grows a jungle of hair before going back to palm his cock, both minds feel sedated as they smell his thick musk and Adam can scarcely remember any priorities besides the all-important goal of seeking his own pleasure. 

To this end the pair find themselves awash in exploring their-his body, for countless hours of making a mess of his bedroom, living room, and kitchen Adam finally remembers that there is more to the world than his small apartment. There are more holes to explore than the few in himself and far more to see than the steamy videos he can pull up on his phone. Wiping drool off his face and crusted cum off his torso, something at the back of Adam’s mind itches as he feels there was something greater he was supposed to do, something he was supposed to spread or some control he was supposed to enforce. Giving his pits a good sniff he smirks before opining that perhaps there is no greater goal than spreading his own glory far and wide.

Quite the easy enough task as it runs out as whatever the spirit did before fading into but another aspect of Adam’s lusty mind gave him the ability to attract anyone to his cause. Rather than whatever dire cause intended, with the two totally merged the only purpose of his inhumanly alluring self is to spread pleasure. As soon as he steps out of his front door he finds men throwing themselves at him in droves. Jocks, twinks, and bears alike could not possibly resist the titan as he walks down the street, always shadowed by a heavy wave of his aphrodisiac musk.

Adam’s eyes glance across and stare through every man whose hungry eyes cannot look away, whose shoulders fly back in submission, whose noses lead them to trial behind him. While many of them get the chance to enjoy time with the inhumanly alluring man, only a few get to experience the truly rapturous experience of being changed by Adam himself. Only a select few find themselves molded into something greater than that they are when they first submit to Adam’s will. Though even a few is enough to spread and as time goes on the number of musky men wandering around could certainly become a problem. Lucky for the world perhaps, whatever cause the medallion held is long forgotten and the changed men yearn for no higher purpose than pleasure. And with the enhancements gifted by Adam, that is precisely what they find.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad deserves better than Belly. After he sees Jere and her kiss, he get his ass to Stanford and meet this cute and smart maybe tutor girl (Haley James style) and falls in love with her and then they show up at Jere's wedding years later and Belly is jelly

I've spent the last five days working on this one.

p.s. it's 2k words...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Conrad finished his exam, he went back to Jeremiah and Belly. He was going to tell and confess his love to her before she had to get home, but when he got to his car, the scene Conrad walked on made him sick to his stomach: Belly and Jeremiah were full on making out against his car. He stopped short of the car and cleared his throat, causing the two to spring apart from their heated kiss and see Conrad looking right at them. 

Conrad’s face was white. He would rather have had someone shoot him in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly, than have to watch the two of them kissing.

He didn't know who he was more angry at. Belly, who, not even a day ago, had told him she would have fought harder for him if she knew he loved her that much. Or Jeremiah, who, although he knew how much Belly meant to his brother and how fucking in love he was with her, seized the opportunity to kiss Belly the moment he was alone with her.

‘’Conrad—’’ Belly started, guilt settling in her guts. 

He cut her off, his voice cold and cutting. ‘’I don’t want to hear it.’’ 

His gaze shifted from Belly to Jeremiah. There was so much hate in his eyes. How could Jere do that to him? They agreed to stop hiding things from each other and talk, but Jeremiah must have forgotten already. 

‘’You broke up with her, Con, remember? We did nothing wrong,’’ Jeremiah said, pulling facts in his favor to make himself feel better — less guilty — for kissing his brother’s ex.  

When Conrad kissed Belly on the beach last summer, he didn’t know she and Jeremiah were a thing — if he could call it that — or that he liked her. If he had, he wouldn’t have kissed Belly or confessed his feelings to her. Had the situation had been in reverse, Conrad wasn’t sure Jeremiah would have backed off. 

‘’I’m done.’’ Conrad's voice was resolute, his heart heavy as he turned away, unable to bear the sight of them any longer.

Jeremiah moved to follow, calling out Conrad's name. He didn’t stop, needing to be as far as possible from the painful scene. His mind was racing with a jumble of emotions. Anger, betrayal, and a profound hurt gnawed at him. He had trusted both Belly and Jeremiah, yet they pulled this shit behind his back. 

‘’Why do you always have to act like that?’’ Jeremiah said as he quickened his pace to catch up. 

Finally, Conrad turned to face Jeremiah, his expression a mix of sorrow and resentment. ‘’You don’t get to tell me how to react, Jere. You kiss the girl I love outside my school, against my car while she’s wearing my sweatshirt. If you don’t see how disgusting and messed up it all sounds—’’

‘’She kissed me,’’ the younger one quickly defended. 

 Hearing this made him want to pack his bags, get his ass to stanford and focus on school. He needed to turn the Belly page, and in order to do that, he needed to be away from both she and Jeremiah. California seemed far enough, right?

*

The first days and weeks were tough for Conrad, struggling to accept the definite end of the relationship. She was still all over him like a wine-stained shirt he couldn’t wear anymore. 

He blocked both Belly and Jeremiah’ numbers. If he wanted to move on, he had to keep his distance from them. For a while, at least. Then, he deleted all the old pictures he kept of Belly on his phone. There was no going back for them anymore. 

He was done.

*

You met Conrad a little before Christmas break. Just like those cliché rom-coms, you walked right into him and spilled your chai latte all over his sweater. You wanted to break the cliché and not fall for the victim of your clumsiness, but after one look into those beautiful blue eyes, you knew it would be impossible. 

 After that day, you kept crossing paths around campus and, one afternoon, you asked him out. He was so surprised, but he said ‘yes’. 

Although you had sealed the end of the night with a few kisses, you decided to take things slow. You had a very busy schedule with the tutoring lessons on top of your regular program, and Conrad was unsure if it was too soon to get in another relationship, if he was ready for it. The scar Belly had left on his heart was healing, but was he ready to open his heart to someone again? 

‘’Have you ever been in love?’’ you asked one night in his dorm while studying. 

Your question had caught Conrad off guard. It was visible on his face. 

‘’Have you?’’ he returned, not taking his eyes off his textbook. 

He was trying to dodge the question. 

‘’I asked you first,’’ you said, seeing through his plan.

‘’Then yes.’’

‘’How many times?’’

‘’Once.’’

His answers were flat, annoyed he was by all your questions. He wished you would stop and get back to studying in silence, but you kept going. 

‘’On a scale of one to ten, how in love were you?’’

‘’You can’t put being in love on a scale,’’ he said, lifting his head with furrowed eyebrows. ‘’Either you are or you aren’t.’’

‘’But if you had to say.’’

Conrad started flipping through his notes. He hadn’t thought of Belly in months. He missed her — in a different way he used to. She was his friend before they got tangled into this mess.

He didn’t look at you when he finally said it. ‘’Ten.’’

*

The more time he spent in your presence, the more Conrad was — unknowingly — letting go of his past. 

The pictures he deleted months ago became pictures of you, filling his phone until there was no space left. The smell of your perfume lingered on some of his clothes and in his car. He had your coffee order memorized, along with your favorite study-break snack, which he made sure to have in stock in his dorm. 

You became part of his routine — part of his life —, brightening his days even on his darkest, saddest nights. 

He didn’t want to bother you, but nothing was calming the ache in his chest. He tried getting some air and smoking weed, he even thought of calling Laurel, but it was almost 2am in Pennsylvania. Conrad didn’t want to scare her. 

So he pulled up your contact and called, the weight of his grief still heavy in his heart, wishing Susannah was still there. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since she took her last breath. 

You were about to slip into bed when you saw his name flashing on your phone. You almost didn’t pick up, but you got a gut feeling that he needed you. 

When you opened your door, a saddened look was etched onto Conrad's face, his beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. The sight pulled at your heart and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him for the whole night.

Supported each other through finals and all-nighters.

‘’Getting tired?’’ you said, catching him actively fighting against his own eyelids. 

Conrad shook his head, taking a long gulp of his coffee. ‘’No time for sleep. I have this huge exam first thing tomorrow and I still have a lot of chapters to cover.’’

‘’You can take a short nap if you want. I’ll wake you in thirty minutes,’’ you kindly offered, flipping through your notes for a specific annotation. 

‘’Nah, I’m good.’’ He flashed you a soft smile, then returned to his studying. 

A few minutes later, and you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's eyes had begun to droop. They would halfway close and then he would either blink a bunch of times, or widen his eyes until they were bug eyed. It was cute.

‘’Con? Conrad?’’ you called out gently. 

‘’I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes,’’ he mumbled defensively, fighting fatigue.

There was no way he was getting through the night, so you put your notes down and slipped on Conrad’s flannel shirt that was on the back of your chair to shield you from the night air. ‘’We’re gonna need more coffee.’’ 

As you came back with two fresh cups of coffee, you found Conrad fast asleep on your pillow, still clutching his pen.

And held his hand through the rainiest times — literally.

‘’Isn't California supposed to be the sunniest state?’’ Conrad asked, watching the downpour through the windshield, drenched from head to toe. ‘’The seats are all wet...’’ 

‘’You gotta learn to live with the consequences of your own actions, Connie baby.’’ 

It was his idea to get waffles when the sky was looking very gray and angry. He insisted that it would clear out, but a loud clap of thunder echoed on your way back to the car and rain started pouring. You took the road back to campus, but it got too dangerous, forcing Conrad to stop the car on the shoulder of the road and wait for the rain to calm. 

You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips, still the most beautiful to his eyes despite your wet hair and the slight smear of mascara under your eyes. 

 ‘’Rain happens everywhere. Even in the dryest desert,’’ you reminded him, pulling out your phone to check the weather app.‘’Unfortunately, this one isn't gonna stop anytime soon.’’

You toed off your sneakers, making Conrad draw his eyebrows.

‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’We’re gonna be here for a while.’’ You peeled off your hoodie — also wet from the rain —, leaving you in your skirt and dainty bralette. ‘’Might as well occupy ourselves,’’ you explained before leaning over the middle console and kissing him, fastening yourself to him with a stitch. 

The kiss took him by surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. He could spend hours kissing you and never get bored. 

You crawled over the console and on Conrad’s lap without breaking contact, your hands easily finding grip on his hair as you felt his hands all over your body, caressing and pulling. The windows were fogging quickly around you, creating a veil of privacy as more layers were peeled off.

Conrad once believed he had found love, that Belly was it for him, but the feelings he felt back then were nothing compared to how he felt right now. 

‘’You’re the best thing that happened to me,’’ he confessed, his forehead pressed against yours. 

*

The invitation came in a few weeks before the wedding. Conrad couldn’t believe his brother was going through with this. Everything was happening so fast and seemed rushed. Him and Belly weren’t even twenty. Who gets married so young anymore? 

He arrived in Cousins a few days prior to the wedding, surprising everyone — and stealing the attention from the soon-to-be-weds — when they saw a girl with him. 

The only person who knew exactly who you were was Steven. A few months ago, you had posted a picture with Conrad at the beach and tagged him, leading to Steven finding out about his friend’s new girlfriend. He was surprised when he saw it, but very happy for Conrad. He deserved better than someone who plays between two hearts. 

Laurel put down the table-center she was holding and went over to pull Conrad in a hug. She turned to you, making quick introductions, and Conrad held his breath. He’s always been close to Laurel and her approval meant more to him than his father’s or Jeremiah’s. 

While the two of you engaged into a conversation, he saw her. Belly. Dressed in a white sundress and talking to Taylor, she looked just the same. The only difference was, Conrad felt nothing. No pain, no old feelings rising back. 

For the first time, what’s past was past.

‘’Belly, come greet Connie and his girlfriend,’’ Laurel called out to her daughter. 

Although you had never met her, you could tell exactly who she was in the room — and not only because her dress was white. The jealousy filling her eyes when they fell on you gave her away.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti @lomlolivia @5sosbands @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @a-band-aid-for-your-heart @gilbertscurls @brandirouse86 @leilani-nichole @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr  @bchindureyes @bellysbeach  @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster  @johannelis2302nely  @aqshua @foockingasshole @straberryshortcake143 @luiise

[strawberrytoki]

kairos

Jacaerys Velaryon X reader

summary: You and Jacaerys have yearned for each other for as long as you can remember, but all you could spare one another were lingering glances, hesitant touches, and stolen moments of solitude, all on borrowed time.

warning: slight changes and deviations from the books, implied smut

forbidden love, slight angst.

1 hour.

It had been 60 minutes since you began frantically pacing through the echoing, vacant halls of the castle, not knowing what your next move should be.

This was due to the explosive dispute that ensued earlier within the very walls of the keep that stood atop Dragonstone. Your parents, both proud Velaryons and representatives of the house, were invited by Rhaenyra to further discuss strategies to strengthen her claim to the iron throne. Both your houses were strongly tied by bounds of marriage, and extensive history dating back centuries. There had even been talk about further strengthening the bond both houses shared by betrothing you to Jacaerys, an idea both of you were more than pleased by. However, relations between your houses have been less than sturdy as of late, due to your father discovering Jacaerys' parentage. It was surely the whispers of the court that unveiled the truth, they were hard to silence after all. Your father deemed Jacaerys a bastard with sullied blood, viewed him as someone who'd taint the bloodline with shame, and essentially wanted nothing to do with the house altogether, but war had ways of bending even the strongest of convictions.

Your father decided to put all differences aside in consideration of the imminent threat of war, and accepted Rhaenyra's invitation. She was aware that Corlys was exposed to the truth regarding Jacaerys' father, but decided that she was not going to address the matter if he wasn't, in order to prevent further destabilization within the realm. You were elated when your parents asked you to accompany them, as you were gradually taking on greater responsibilities, and were surely to be asked to weigh-in on their discussions soon. However, that wasn't the only reason you couldn't hold your excitement.

Jacaerys Velaryon was always a constant factor in your life, and denying your feelings for him was simply postponing the inevitable. It wasn't long before you learned that your feelings were reciprocated. That being said, the two of you couldn't come forward with your love just yet, considering that both your families currently had bigger fish to fry with war looming ahead and what not. You were both aware that you'd have to eventually join Rhaenyra's forces as dragonriders and fight for her cause as rightful heir to the throne. Therefore, you both wished to spend as much time in each other's comforting company as you possibly could. Despite your protests, Jacaerys posed the idea of seizing the opportunity of the presence of both your families, and declaring your love before them this day.

As you approached the gate's entrance, you noticed Jacaerys staring at you, with a glint of adoration in his eyes, which you gladly, but subtly returned. After both families were done greeting one another, you entered the chamber, and took your seats around the painted table, where both of you continued your exchange of fleeting glances.

The determined discussions were then paused for a meal, after which you noticed your father call upon Jacaerys for a word, his face a controlled mask of fury. Fearing what was to come, you quietly followed them both, making swift maneuvers to avoid getting caught.

You saw Jacaerys hesitantly follow your father into the Great Hall and quickly made your way to the giant door before it was fully shut, leaving yourself some room for eavesdropping.

"I have always treated you with respect," Lord Corlys began, his voice low but steady. "I have welcomed you into my home as family, as kin. But it seems my respect has been misplaced." Jacaerys frowned, confusion and fear knotting in his chest. "My lord, I don't understand." He did. He understood, and his racing heartbeat and beads of forehead sweat betrayed him. Lord Corlys' eyes mirrored his blazing anger. "Save yourself what little dignity you have left and do not play the fool with me, boy! I know the pitiful truth of your birth and I am certain you do as well. You do not bear Velaryon blood, and most certainly are not suitable for my daughter."

Both the accusation and the denial of your love hung heavy in the air, making it too thick to inhale. Jacaerys was always aware of the rumors and hearsay that circulated regarding his legitimacy, but to be ambushed with it so harshly, so firmly, was a blow he was not prepared for.

"Who told you?" Jacaerys managed to choke out, his facade of confidence slowly crumbling. Lord Corlys condescendingly scoffed. "It matters not, it is true isn't it?"

Jacaerys felt his head spin, and his identity scramble with it. "My mother loved Laenor. He raised me as his own-"

"But he did not father you," Lord Corlys snapped. "And you will not corrupt my bloodline with your tainted heritage." Deciding that you heard more than enough, you stormed in the hall, desperate for your father to bring his verbal assault to a halt.

"Father! Please stop this at once!" Lord Corlys turned to face you, his expression softening slightly. "You deserve better, my daughter. You deserve a true Velaryon, not this pretender."

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked between your father and Jacaerys. "I love him, Father. He was raised as a Velaryon, he knows our ways, is that not enough?"

"It is not." Lord Corlys said firmly, maintaining his stance. "You will not be betrothed to him." Both you and Jacaerys were speechless since your throats tightened with heartache, leaving no room for words.

Jacaerys quickly turned and walked away, his head hanging low, not sparing you a glance. You looked at your father in despair, but he was unmoved. Knowing that your protests would've fallen on deaf ears, you decided to save your breath and go after Jacaerys, whose heart was sure to be in pieces after what transpired.

Ever since both of you were children, Jacaerys loved taking warm baths whenever he was upset, since he felt like they imitated the warmth he lacked at the time. Old habits die hard, so you were more than certain that's what he was about to do.

You were torn between giving him the space he needed and offering him the comfort he surely wished for at the moment, which was why you were pacing back and forth near the entrance of the bathing chamber. Eventually, you decided against your better judgement to enter the chamber, convincing yourself that this was solely to comfort him even though deep down, this was comfort you sought for yourself as well.

You stepped into the dimly-candlelit chamber to find Jacaerys soaking in the warm water, his eyes glazed and his lips slightly pouted. Even in sadness, he was beautiful. His eyes then met yours as you were idle in your spot. The silence was deafening but understandable. Tentatively, you approached the tub, and sat at the edge of it.

"Jacaerys-" You started, but were promptly interrupted by him. "He tells the truth, you know? Lord Corlys." He stated shakingly, his eyes fixed at the rippling water.

You were angry at this sentiment that he held, angry that he thought of himself so lowly, it pained you. "I've heard it all before," He continued. "I didn't wish to believe it at first, but I'd have been a fool not to. I thought it'd sting less with time, but it seems I've been mistaken. I loathe how I can be dismissed with just a word." A pensive, frustrated sigh escaped his lips, and that was when you grabbed his sharp face with both your hands, gently coaxing him out of his worried trance. You carefully caressed his face, not breaking eye contact. "My father is only concerned with titles, with names. You are a dragonrider, and dragon blood courses through your veins. He cannot take that from you."

Much to your delight, his lips curved into a serene smile, and with one hand, he pulled you in for a tender kiss. Unbeknownst to you, he used the other to slyly sneak around your waist and pull you into the tub. The water splashed up around you as you let out a surprised gasp, stifled by Jacaerys' kisses. The comfort of his embrace and the laughter that bubbled up between you two created an atmosphere that enveloped you in its warmth. Your bodies were desperate to be bound, and so you let them. In that stolen moment, you and Jacaerys found solace in each other’s warmth and could not think of anything else that mattered as much.

[freyito]

Can you do Smoke and Reptile, sfw, them burying their face in readers boobs, using them as a pillow and how they’d react to reader to reader doing it back to them? You could do somthing suggestive.

I'm curious also, besides Kenshi and Kuai Liang who else are you a fan of?

imma be honest anon, this is such a fire idea. when i was at this a7x concert me and my friend saw a guy with double ds. like. BODACIOUS bro. that was the first thing our eyes went to. he looked like jesus christ brother. he spoke like he had a message from the gods.

anyways. to answer your question. sentimentally i'm very attached to Kitana and Scorpion in general, i played Kitana when mk9 came out (i was 7, my dad let me play mk when i was SEVEN) and my dad played Scorpion and i always got my ass handed to me. but he worked a lot and playing mk9 was the only time we really got together when i was a kid. with mk1, we've been able to play a lot more together and it reminds me of those times, it's really fun. now i win about half the matches we play, but i just don't play Kitana anymore. i really do prefer Kenshi.

I am actually married to Johnny Cage and Kenshi, soooo Also, to be honest, the first characters to draw me into Mk1 were Smoke & Sub-Zero. Hadn't really been a big Sub-Zero fan beforehand, not of Bi-Han or Kuai Liang. So it was fun having that revelation. And Tomas is just super cute, I actually love that he's Czech. We're not the same, but hey, we're atleast both slavic. I dont know why, I just love finding Slavic characters cause more often then not I end up relating to them. Sorry for the monologue, anon. Here's your boob request :P

cw: gn reader cause everyone can have boobs brother, bonus character!, proofread

"ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡꜱ" || ᴛᴏᴍᴀꜱ & ꜱʏᴢᴏᴛʜ

-Tomas Vrbada

Tomas loves nothing more at the end of the day than getting to bury his face in your chest. As long as you two are in private, he'll wiggle his way into you somehow.

Half the time you two have together, he's face down in your chest, it is a regular occurrence and will stay a regular occurrence.

Does he do anything other than that? No. He's planking. He's in love, man, you can't blame him.

So, when you find him laying on the bed that one fateful night, defenseless, you give him the same treatment. You climb onto the bed, and slink your way into his arms.

He reaches out for you absent-mindedly, running his hands through your hair. Then you strike. You plank right into HIS boobs. He hasn't even registered yet. But you understand why he does it to you. Even if you can't breathe, it's somehow euphoric.

Tomas pauses, looks down at you. And his face flushes. You can feel his body temperature rise. He doesn't know how to react, he's been caught in just an inconvenient situaton.

He doesn't complain, though. He's just flustered. Real flustered. He holds you close after he can find his composure, still unsure but grateful of your touch.

-Syzoth

Syzoth almost always makes a dive for your chest when you two are cuddling. He'll be tangled up with you- quite literally, the man really enjoys being as close as possible- and still find a way to bury his head into your chest.

Doesn't matter how much you dodge out of it, he's going to wrap himself around you and find your chest somehow, someway.

But, he thinks he's free of this torment. He gets to lay his head in your chest, and run off freely. He does it when you two nap, when you cuddle, wherever, whenever.

You find him one night, after a long day and seize your chance. And your boyfriends boobies. Without a second chance you throw yourself at Syzoth, aiming directly for his chest.

You can see him realize in that moment what's happening. And you can see the exact look of 'awh fuck', almost as if in slow motion. And when you finally get to lay your head onto his sweet, sweet, pillows, he gives up right then and there.

Syzoth accepts the love, completely. He might act all pouty because you robbed him of his favorite thing to do, but secretly he loves it. You can almost hear him purr.

-Bonus Points! Bi-Han

Bi-Han doesn't really find himself buried in your chest too often. Mainly because he feels like he's controlled for that. He's thought about it, but refuses to do it.

But let's be honest, how can you not shove your face in his tits? They're massive, H cups AT LEAST. So you stalk your boyfriend, until you can find a private moment between you two.

He doesn't know your game, but he does know you've been following him. He's not annoyed, he's simply confused as to why you won't directly approach him.

So, when you ambush him, he's only slightly prepared. You go straight for his boobs. And you land directly in between them. Silence washes over you two.

Bi-Han doesn't understand. Part of him doesn't want to. So he simply wraps his arms gently around your waist and pulls you closer. He kind of thinks you're in need of comfort.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS

[mythica-ithaca]

the fact that I see some of y'all posting more about how important it is to vote for Biden than you ever have about Palestine just shows that you fucking "vote blue no matter who" people genuinely don't give a fuck about anyone but yourselves.

you only choose to speak up when YOUR hypothetical rights are threatened. you love to fear monger about how much hypothetically worse it would be under trump than acknowledge the actual atrocities that Biden is committing and condoning every single day. how exactly is he the "lesser" of two evils for?

do any of you actually look at the images coming out of gaza, or are you too fucking ~triggered~ to fully acknowledge other peoples suffering rather than your own. have you seen the video that came out recently of the little boy whose brain is exposed, about to be laid next to his dead family members, only to twitch and seize in his fathers arms as he screams and runs in horror to find a doctor, because his son is alive. his brain is literally falling out of his skull but he is still alive. that is one brief example of the most horrific shit you've ever seen in your life coming out daily for almost a year. how on this earth can you watch that and possibly claim that Biden is in any way shape or form "less" evil.

instead of demanding that the dnc force a different candidate, you're trying to guilt trip people who have actually seen the mutilated bodies of children on their timelines every single day and watched the press briefings of bidens administration denying genocide and defending Israel at the expense of literally everything else for the last 8 months, into voting for a man who supports it 100% and has not and will not be convinced otherwise.

this is where allowing them to push widely unpopular and centrist candidates has gotten us. it didn't work with Hillary in 2016. it BARELY worked in 2020. and hate to break it to you, but its probably not going to work again. so congrats. your "vote blue no matter who" rhetoric has got them thinking that they can push the most right leaning liberals on us and think that we'll vote for them just because they're in a blue tie instead of a red one.

if you care about democracy like you say you do, then the Democrats should be fucking TERRIFIED that you won't vote for them if they don't deliver. not constantly reassured that they can commit literal fucking genocide and still get your votes if they dangle abortion rights over your heads. you realize they see those posts too right? the ones that say "Yes! protest vote in the primary but make sure to actually vote for the guy in the general!!" like. you are literally telling them how performative your activism is.

if every election at this point is the one where democracy is on the line then we are already fucked. if they don't get it through their heads now that we will not support this shit, then every election to come will be between a fascist and a fascist who cares slightly less about whether gay people get married or not. but that's all you care about right? as long as your domestic policy is in your favor then the rest of the world can suffer at your tax dollars.

this isn't about morality voting. this is about recognizing that there is not actually a "lesser" of two evils in this situation, just because you think that the causes that you personally care about will be less affected one way or the other. because what if it was abortion rights? what catholic Joe Biden was firmly against abortion and was threatening to ban it completely and throw anyone getting or giving one in prison for murder. what if it was videos of lgbt people being slaughtered coming out every single day for a year. genuinely fucking ask yourself if you'd still be saying "vote blue no matter who" and that he's the "lesser" of two evils.

vote for whoever the fuck you want. and I do genuinely urge you to vote for the most progressive candidate you can for the house and senate and your local elections. but for the love of god, stop trying to convince people that there is, in any sense of the word, a "Lesser" evil in this situation. stop trying to absolve yourselves of the fact that you are CHOOSING evil. it's genuinely sick.

[yogurtkags]

congrats on the milestone, cid!!! for the event, how about kageyama with YOUR favorite premise/trope? 🫵

❝ STUCK WITH YOU ❞ — kageyama tobio

cw. gn!reader, implied friends to lovers, forced proximity (there is only one bed), mutual pining, comfort, confessions, not beta read. word count. ~ 1.2k synopsis. whispered confessions and hesitant embraces of a boy in love event masterlist

well shit.

“i can take the floor—“ the both of you splutter out at the same time, causing a little giggle to escape your lips and even tobio to crack a tiny crooked smile, both of your cheeks flushing a light pink.

“the floor’s so uncomfortable, it’s going to ruin your back and you’re not going to like it during practice tomorrow.” you pointedly remark, eyebrow quirked and hands on your hips, thinking you’ve won with your argument.

the rain pelts against your bedroom windows, little taps growing progressively louder and faster and as the winds howl and the trees sway, like a ticking clock counting down to a verdict.

you gave him the option to stay over with his best interests in mind, he can’t afford walking home drenched in the rain and getting sick right now with a match in a few days. but the idea of being in such close proximity for a night with the boy who seized your heart causes it to hammer anxiously in your chest, like butterflies emerging from their cocoons. maybe i didn’t think this through.

crossing his arms over his chest with a scoff, he grumbles matter-of-factly, “and let you go through the discomfort instead? no way in hell.”

once he's made up his mind, there's no convincing him otherwise.

he swears that he cares so much for you, he just doesn't know how to express it in words without being a little blunt and sometimes a little mean, but you know he has good intentions. you wouldn't willingly be friends with him if he didn't, at least he hopes that's the case— his stomach threatens to drop at the idea that he had possibly made you feel upset in any sort of way. it might seem dramatic, but he'd rather die than make you feel like you'd have to walk on eggshells around him.

“well if you’re so against it, we can…" you clear your throat nervously, eyes darting across the floorboards and unable to meet his, "...share?"

tobio's cheeks burn with the implication of your words. the two of you, in bed, together, just the thought alone is enough to cause his brain to short-circuit, leaving him in a stuttering mess and avoiding your eyes, suddenly finding the band poster on your wall very interesting.

you would've missed his quiet "okay" if you weren't looking at him and trying to gauge his reaction from the corner of your eye, his voice barely above a whisper, “but i’m pushing you off if you kick me.”

“excuse you, it’s literally my bed?!”

“dumbass.”

with a huff, you turn and crawl into your bed, rolling to the side closer to the window and grabbing part of the blankets, giving him some space if he decides to join you. facing away from him to hide your nerves and expression, you announce, "well i'm turning in now, it's up to you if you want to get in or not."

you try your best to play it off nonchalantly, but everything in your being prays and hopes that he does. every second that you wait, the faster your thoughts race, you worry that he only said yes to appease you, that you made him uncomfortable with your question, that you were getting ahead of yourself. maybe this was a bad idea.

the swirling tornado of thoughts in your mind was interrupted by the feeling of the empty space behind you dip with weight. it doesn't do much to soothe your nerves, but you focus your eyes on the raindrops trailing down your window, letting it still your heart, even if just for a little while.

as the two of you lay in silence, backs facing each other with a little river of a space between your bodies, neither dare to move even an inch. your senses are on high alert, taking note of every single movement, every breath, the fibers of your sheets feeling scratchy for the first time, just waiting, longing for something to happen.

the sudden flash of lightning and loud thundering causes a small yelp to slip out of your lips, flinching as the burst of bright light floods your vision and temporarily illuminates the dark room. your back lightly brushes against tobio's and you're quick to apologise, "i-i'm sorry, i was just shocked by that."

"i know," you told him some time ago that storms make you a little anxious, he remembers every little detail about you, committing it to memory, "are you okay?"

turning his head to look at you over his shoulder, his heart clenches at the way you shake your head with embarrassment, almost trying to make yourself smaller and shrinking your frame against him. you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it, silently glaring and cursing at the sky and the dark clouds that inhabit it, why did this wretched rain have to make things weird?

with a sharp inhale, he bites the bullet and tests the waters, turning around and reaching for your hand. as his fingers brush over your knuckles, your breath catches in your throat at the delicate motion, the callouses and roughness feeling like light tender scratches on your skin, creating a gentle distraction to your weary soul.

it’s odd. you two were always close, but not like this, yet it feels natural. your hands fit together like pieces of a puzzle, yours cradled in the palm of his larger ones. in your vulnerability, you rest your forehead on his clothed chest, trying to ground yourself and slow your breathing, finding comfort in the rhythm of his heart thrumming against his chest.

tobio hopes that you don’t notice the speed of his pulse, and even if you do, he wishes you won’t bring it up for the sake of his sanity. before this, he longed for the day that he could hold you in his arms, but now that the time has come, he can’t help but wish it was under different circumstances, nonetheless counting his lucky stars for this opportunity to be there for you.

with tremoring hands, he pulls you closer and strokes your hair, running his fingers between the soft strands in a light caress, recalling the days when miwa used to do this for him as a young child riddled with fear. your body melts against his in relief, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, sinking into his steady hold and letting the rise and fall of his chest slowly lull you in a calm rest.

this feels... nice.

tobio thinks you look beautiful in this light, the faintest glow from the streetlamps below shining in through the sheer curtains and fanning across the apples of your cheeks. he almost gives in to the temptation of brushing his lips against your forehead but decides against it, settling with admiring your delicate features and letting his eyes trail across the fine details of your face.

in the quiet of night when he thinks you're asleep, he plucks the courage to whisper into the crown of your head, three words he's had on his mind for a while now, allowing himself to drift off into slumber with your soft smile pressed into the crook of his neck.

notes. mac my fellow tobio enjoyer, thank you for requesting our beloved blooberi boy and my favourite tropes (you know the way to my heart) ♡ i look forward to more screaming crying thirst sessions with you over mr tobio, much love to you !! (dividers: @/cafekitsune) reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.