#and they still DESERVE to do all of those things no matter how much of a pretentious little brat they r

[lazysoulwriter]

In the Quiet Moments - Drew Starkey.

She hadn’t realized how long it had been until she saw the calendar on the wall. Almost a month. A whole month since she’d felt Drew’s touch, heard his laughter echoing in her apartment, or seen the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. The constant whirlwind of interviews, photo shoots, and events had swept him away, and she tried to convince herself she understood. His career was booming, and the attention he was getting was deserved—he worked so hard for it. But that didn’t make it any easier.

She sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone, but the truth weighed heavily on her heart. She was fine on the surface, managing work and life just as she always had, but underneath it all, there was this ache. A quiet loneliness that had crept in, something she hadn’t felt before when he was around. Drew had always been a constant—his presence, his voice, his smile. Now, it felt like he was slipping through her fingers, no matter how hard she tried to hold on.

She knew the game. She knew how it worked. Drew wasn’t the first person in her life to put their career first. But with him, it felt different. There was something unspoken between them, a bond that had never been just casual, even though they weren’t officially anything. Yet.

The pain of the distance between them didn’t come from lack of affection; it came from the lack of him. She missed the way he’d brush her hair from her face as they laughed about some silly thing, or how he’d reach for her hand during those quiet moments when they didn’t need to say anything at all.

Her phone buzzed with another notification, but she ignored it. The screen blurred as her thoughts wandered to him again. To Drew. She hadn’t heard from him in a few days—no surprise, given the hectic schedule he’d been navigating. But as much as she tried to bury the feeling, a part of her longed to hear his voice. To be in his arms. Just to know he was still there.

She took a deep breath, convincing herself she was being ridiculous. He had his reasons. She would wait. She could be patient.

But then, the sound of the doorbell rang out, sharp and unexpected.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She wasn’t expecting anyone, not at this hour. Hesitantly, she stood up, her feet carrying her to the door. She opened it without thinking twice, and there he was—Drew. Standing on her doorstep, his face softer than usual, eyes slightly downcast. He wore that familiar pouty face, the one he always did when he knew he’d messed up or let something slide. But now, it felt different. It was almost as if he was apologizing without saying a word.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She just moved aside, silently inviting him in. Drew stepped over the threshold, but neither of them said anything at first.

The silence in the room felt heavy, thick with all the things they hadn’t said, all the emotions they’d kept buried. Drew shifted, running a hand through his hair, his gaze lingering on the floor, not sure how to begin.

“I know I’ve been… distant,” Drew said, his voice low, but clear. He didn’t need to say more. She already knew. “I just… I got caught up in everything. And I know that’s not fair to you.”

She stayed quiet, watching him with a mix of sadness and understanding. She could see the way he was struggling with his words. He had never been good at expressing his feelings, but this time, it was different. She could tell.

He stepped closer, closing the gap between them, and when he reached for her hands, it felt like an unspoken plea. His fingers brushed against hers, his touch tentative at first, almost as if asking for permission.

“I love you,” he said, his voice stronger now, more certain. “I know I haven’t shown it the way I should have. And I’m sorry for that. But I love you. And I want to do better. I want to be better… for you. For us.”

His words hit her harder than she expected. Her throat tightened, and her heart swelled. She could feel the sincerity in his voice, but there was also the sting of the last month—the distance, the silence. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it was hard.

“I love you too,” she whispered, barely audible. Her voice cracked, betraying the hurt she’d been trying to hide. “But I’m hurt, Drew. I needed you here. I needed us.”

Drew’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his hand gently cupping her cheek. “I know. And I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice filled with regret. “Please… let me make it right. Let me take care of the hurt I’ve caused. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Her breath hitched, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself. He was here. He was here, and that meant something. It meant he hadn’t given up on them, even if he’d been lost in his world for a while.

Without another word, she let herself be pulled into his arms. Drew wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, his warmth flooding through her. She could feel his heart beating against hers, the steady rhythm grounding her. They stood there in silence for a moment, just holding each other, as if they could undo all the hurt by being together again.

And then, Drew leaned in, his lips brushing gently against hers, soft at first, as if testing the waters. But she responded immediately, her arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate, as if they were both trying to make up for the time lost.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a promise. A promise to love, to be there, to make things right. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of everything they hadn’t been able to say until now.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads resting together, Drew’s voice was low and full of emotion. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I promise. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, she believed him.

･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Baby you are the baddest

Baby you are the baddest, baby you are the baddest girl

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎. 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒆 u 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆? 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓.

Characters - nanami kento , gojo Satoru and Suguru geto

Warning ⚠️ : contains suggestive smut, sexual content!

Gojo Satoru

Jujutsu Tech was hosting a huge party for all the students and teachers, and as one of the teachers, you were excited at least, you tried to be. You had asked Gojo to accompany you, but he refused, saying he was the organizer and had things to handle. So, you arrived alone.

You were wearing

Beautiful Right? Right??

But the moment you stepped in, something felt off. The room was filled with stunning people your coworkers looking absolutely amazing, dressed to impress. You knew you were beautiful, you reminded yourself over and over, but tonight… you just weren’t feeling it.

Then you saw her.

Gojo’s ex.

She was wearing blue too, but hers was a deeper, richer shade. Her dress was shorter, hugging her figure in all the right places. She looked effortlessly stunning, drawing attention from every corner of the room. Compliments flooded her way, and with each one, your confidence sank a little more.

Before you could spiral any further, a loud voice echoed through the room.

"ATTENTION!"

Gojo.

He cleared his throat, a smug grin already forming. Then, as expected, he started the program with one of his signature flirty lines something smooth, playful, the kind of thing he always did. Normally, you’d just roll your eyes, maybe even laugh.

But tonight?

Tonight, it just made you feel worse.

Everyone clapped, the room filled with cheers and applause. Lost in your thoughts, you barely reacted until Utahime lightly smacked your arm, snapping you out of it.

“Come on, at least pretend to enjoy yourself,” she muttered.

You let out an awkward snort, forcing a small laugh as you clapped along with the crowd. But no matter how much you tried to play along, that sinking feeling in your chest just wouldn’t go away.

His eyes scanned the crowd as he spoke, but the moment they landed on you his breath hitched.

For a second, his mind went completely blank.

Why the hell were you looking like that in front of them? Dressed so beautifully, so effortlessly stunning, yet standing there with an unsure look on your face? It made his chest tighten in ways he didn’t expect.

And the worst part? He was the one organizing this damn event meaning he couldn’t just walk over to you, couldn’t pull you aside, couldn’t do a damn thing about the way you were making his head spin.

Frustrating. Absolutely frustrating.

With every passing second, the insecurity crept in deeper. No matter how much you tried to shake it off, the feeling only got worse.

Then, between the chatters and musics, you heard a voice that made your stomach drop.

"Satoru was definitely checking me out. He still thinks about me. Maybe I can get him back." His ex..

Absolutely not. What the fuck?

"Hell nah, he has a girlfriend," her friend scoffed.

But she just waved it off, laughing dramatically before saying something that hit you like a punch to the gut.

"That girl? Yeah, she looks good, but be real would you pick a cute girl with a basic look or someone hotter?"

Her friend chuckled, brushing it off like it was nothing. But you?

You stood there, frozen.

And for the first time tonight, a terrible thought crossed your mind.

Maybe… just maybe… she was right.

You couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not anymore.

Your chest felt tight, your hands clenched at your sides as those words replayed in your head over and over again. Would you pick a cute girl with a basic look or someone hotter?

Maybe… maybe she was right. Maybe Satoru deserved someone better. Someone who could match his energy, his confidence someone who wouldn’t feel small next to him.

Your vision blurred slightly as you turned on your heel.

Hell nah, you were not staying here any longer.

Maybe you'd even

No. The thought hurt too much to finish.

But a small, painful voice in your head whispered anyway.

Maybe you should break up with him.

Gojo was stress-eating sweets.

He had been trying really trying to get you off his mind, but it wasn’t working. Every time he glanced in your direction, he felt that same frustration bubbling up again. Why the hell did you have to look so good tonight? And why did you look so sad?

He hadn’t even noticed his ex in the crowd. Didn’t care, didn’t want to care. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t exist.

He took a deep breath, ready to continue his speech, when something caught his eye you.

You were leaving.

His heart lurched. And were you… wiping tears?

His stomach twisted, but on the outside, he kept his usual grin. Flashing a charming smile to the crowd, he smoothly passed the mic to Geto without missing a beat.

Then, without hesitation, he followed you.

You walked outside, tears streaming down your face as you tried to steady your breathing. Your chest ached, and no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts away, they just wouldn’t leave.

Before you could take another step, you heard hurried footsteps behind you.

“Oi—”

Gojo caught up to you in an instant, his usual carefree presence feeling different this time. He let out an awkward laugh, but it wasn’t his usual teasing one. No, this one was tense forced. Because if someone had done this to you, if someone had hurt you enough to make you cry, he would fucking hollow them without hesitation.

This was the first time he had ever seen you like this.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt unsure.

His voice wavered slightly as he reached for you, hesitating before speaking.

“B-baby… who got you crying like that? Tell me, what’s happening?” He tried to mask the worry in his voice, tried to keep up his usual playful charm, but it was useless his concern for you was far too obvious.

You swallowed hard, looking up at him, your heart breaking before the words even left your mouth.

“Gojo… let’s put an end to this.”

What.

The.

Fuck.

His mind short-circuited.

What in the world did you just say?

He looked at you like he had just seen a ghost.

For a moment, he didn’t move just stood there, staring at you, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard. Then, without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed your hand, gripping it tightly like he was afraid you’d slip away.

“It’s not time to joke, babe.” His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it something desperate, something scared.

But you only shook your head.

“I’m not kidding, Satoru.” Your voice wavered, but you pushed through. “I looked at myself… and then at your ex… and I realized no, not realized, because it’s the truth you deserve someone better than me. Someone more attractive, someone at your level. After all… you’re the strongest sorcerer.”

You expected him to laugh it off, to tell you you were being ridiculous. But the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip on your hand tightened just a little more

He wasn’t laughing.

He was mad.

Not the kind of playful, teasing irritation he usually had no. This was different.

It wasn’t just anger. It was disappointment. Not at you, but at the fact that you his girl were standing here, crying, actually believing you weren’t enough for him.

His eyes darkened for a split second, jaw tightening as if he was holding something back. But then, just as quickly, he dismissed it, forcing a smile onto his face.

And if you were being honest… that smile scared you a little.

Before you could say anything, he moved.

Swift, effortless he scooped you up into his arms without warning, ignoring your startled gasp.

“Satoru what the hell?”

“Shh, sweetheart.” His voice was calm, but there was something in his tone that made your breath hitch.

Without another word, he carried you straight to the washroom, his grip firm, his expression unreadable.

He gently pulled you inside the bathroom and started to make out with you.

The moment he locked the door behind you, there were no words.

No hesitation.

Just him grabbing you, kissing you, devouring you.

It was rough, desperate, his lips crashing onto yours with a force that left you breathless. First, you had shown up looking so damn beautiful, completely stealing his focus. And then, you had the audacity to say you wanted to break up because you weren’t enough for him?

Enough for him?

Fucking enough for him?

You were everything to him. The most perfect, precious woman in the world. He saw perfection in every flaw you thought you had, and the fact that you couldn’t see it? The fact that you even doubted it?

It pissed him off.

His hands cupped your face, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes burned with something unreadable, something intense, before he let out a sharp breath and snorted a quiet laugh.

Then he kissed you again.

Again.

And again.

“Ooo, look at this woman,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with something dark, something possessive. His hands trailed down, fingertips skimming over your thighs inner thighs, to be precise.

Your breath hitched.

“S-Satoru, what the fuck?” Your voice wavered as you tried to gather your thoughts. “What if people-”

“They’re too busy, babe,” he cut in smoothly, lips brushing against your jaw as his fingers traced slow, teasing circles.

“But what if they catch us…” you whispered, your pulse racing. The last thing you needed was for someone to walk in and see this.

A smirk curled against your skin.

“I hope nobody catches us,” he hummed, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

Then, he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“But…” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, "I kinda hope they catch us"

You gasped, hands gripping onto his shoulders when his fingers ghosted over the thin fabric covering your heat.

“You wore blue for me, no?” His tone was teasing, but the satisfaction in his voice was undeniable.

It was true. You had wanted to look good tonight. But more than that, you knew blue was his favorite color.

And yet, as his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along your waistbandyou found yourself lowering your gaze , feeling shy.

"You are so gorgeous," he hummed against your skin, his lips trailing along your jaw, pressing slow, lingering kisses.

"Baby, you’re the baddest girl… nobody else matters. Not anyone. Only you."

His voice was low, dripping with conviction, and the way he said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world made your head spin.

It was almost like he was gaslighting you into believing you were the most beautiful woman to ever exist.

And fuck it was working.

He gently pushed your dress up to your waist, exposing your soft skin to the cool air. His touch was slow, deliberate like he was savoring every moment, every reaction.

Then, with the same maddening patience, he hooked his fingers around your panties and slid them down, removing them effortlessly.

But instead of tossing them aside, he smirked and casually slipped them into his pocket.

You gasped, your breath hitching as you instinctively clamped a hand over your mouth.

His smile only grew.

"Oh?" he mused, tilting his head, eyes dark with amusement. "Shy now, baby?"

You said nothing your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. Each one sent a shiver down your spine, his lips warm, teasing, possessive.

Your fingers curled into his shoulders, gripping onto him as he moved lower, his kisses trailing along your collarbone.

Then, without breaking contact, you heard the soft clink of metal.

Your eyes flickered down just in time to see him unfastening his belt, the sound making your stomach tighten with anticipation.

Satoru smirked against your skin.

"Still think I don’t want you, baby?" he murmured his voice dripping with amusement as he pulled his belt smoothly.

You swallowed hard, heat rushing to your face as he slowly slid the belt from its loops, letting it fall to the floor with a quiet thud. His fingers moved next, unbuttoning his pants with agonizing slowness like he was giving you a chance to stop him, to protest, to run.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Not when his lips returned to your neck, kissing, biting, claiming you.

His hands roamed over your bare thighs, squeezing, kneading his touch firm yet teasing, possessive yet gentle. He was so big, his presence alone swallowing you whole.

"Still quiet?" he murmured, voice laced with amusement as his fingers traced the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Not gonna fight me on this?"

Your breath hitched when his fingers slipped higher, parting your thighs with ease.

"Satoru—"

"Shh, sweetheart." His thumb brushed against your clit, barely applying pressure, yet it was enough to send a shiver through you.

Your legs instinctively tried to close, but his grip was firm.

"Uh-uh," he tutted, his other hand gripping your hip. "You’re not running from me now."

You let out a shaky breath, fingers digging into his arms as he kept up his slow, torturous pace, his touch deliberate, calculated meant to break you.

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice dropping lower, thick with something dark and dangerous.

"Let me show you just how fucking perfect you are."

And that’s how it was Satoru making love to you in the bathroom, his touch reverent yet desperate, like he needed to prove something to you.

You muffled your gasps and moans, biting your lip, your hands gripping onto him as he moved against you, within you, filling every inch of your senses.

His eyes never left yours, filled with something deeper than lust something raw, devoted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses wherever he could reach.

“So fucking perfect for me.”

He watched you intently, drinking in every expression, every quiet sound, and when you looked up at him desperate, vulnerable he swore under his breath, leaning in to kiss you again.

As if he could make you feel just how much he meant every word.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t stop touching you, didn’t stop kissing you, didn’t stop whispering words that made your chest ache and your stomach tighten.

"God, baby… you have no idea what you do to me." His voice was hoarse, filled with something dangerous, something utterly worshipful.

"You’re not just beautiful. You’re stunning. The kind of gorgeous that makes people stop and stare, but they don’t even know the half of it."

His hands slid over your body, tracing every curve, every inch of skin like he was memorizing you.

"It’s not just your looks, sweetheart." He pressed a lingering kiss to your collarbone, then another, his lips trailing up your neck. "You. It’s you. Your smile, your laugh, your stubborn little attitude that drives me crazy."

You whimpered when he thrust deeper, and he groaned at the way you clenched around him.

"You’re so fucking smart, too," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "The way you think, the way your mind works I swear, it’s the sexiest thing about you."

His fingers threaded through yours, pinning your hand above your head as he met your gaze.

"And don’t even get me started on how kind you are," he breathed, his tone almost pained. "You care so much about everything, about everyone but you don’t even realize how easy it is to love you."

Your heart clenched.

"You are everything to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "So don’t you ever say you’re not enough for me again."

Then, with a smirk, he tilted his head and added,

"If anything, I should be worried about keeping up with you, gorgeous."

After some moments, you heard the click of heels approaching, and before you could even react, the door swung open.

It was none other than his ex.

Her eyes widened in pure shock, and her makeup kit slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor with a loud clatter.

But Satoru?

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he smirked, his movements slow and deliberate as he reached for his discarded jacket and draped it over you, shielding your exposed skin.

Then, as if this was the most casual thing in the world, he turned to her and tilted his head.

“Oh?” His grin was lazy, smug. “Didn’t see you there.”

His grip on your hips tightened possessively before he let out a soft chuckle, his tone downright mocking.

“Hope we didn’t… interrupt anything.”

His ex ran away crying, heels clicking rapidly against the floor as she bolted out of the bathroom.

Satoru barely spared her a glance.

His attention was still on you.

His smirk softened into something more genuine as he gazed down at you, his hands gently running over your waist, your thighs, as if grounding you.

“Look at you, baby,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your flushed cheek. “So fucking pretty… too pretty to be worrying about anyone else.”

You tried to say something, but your head was spinning, your body still trembling from everything. Words felt impossible.

Satoru chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, his expression dripping with admiration.

“Lightheaded already? Cute,” he teased, but his tone was filled with nothing but warmth.

He kissed you again slow and deep before murmuring against your lips,

“Let’s get you cleaned up, gorgeous.”

Satoru cleaned you up with a level of care that made your heart ache his usual teasing replaced with soft kisses, gentle touches, and whispered praises.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he murmured, smoothing down your dress and fixing your hair, his blue eyes scanning your face like he was checking for any signs of discomfort.

You nodded, still too dazed to form actual words, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“God, I wrecked you, huh?” His smirk returned, but his touch remained soft, almost reverent.

Before you could even try to respond, he scooped you up into his arms effortlessly.

“Satoru—”

“Nope, not letting you walk,” he said firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he carried you out of the bathroom. “You look too fucked out to stand properly. And besides…” He grinned down at you. “Gotta make sure everyone sees you wrapped up in my jacket, looking all cute and satisfied.”

Your face burned as he carried you back into the party like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Every single head turned.

Gasps. Stares. Murmurs.

Your coworkers exchanged looks, some shocked, some amused.

And his ex?

Nowhere to be seen.

Satoru, on the other hand, was absolutely thriving. He wore his usual cocky grin, his chest puffed out like he had just won the grandest prize of all.

Which, in his eyes, he had.

Because you were his.

And he had just made damn sure everyone knew it.

And in that moment, wrapped up in his arms, surrounded by the warmth of his jacket and the even warmer way he looked at you

As he carried you through the party, past all the stares and whispers, he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before murmuring against your skin

“You know… in this whole damn world, you’re the only one who can bring me to my knees.”

His voice was soft, but his words carried weight, filled with something undeniable.

Because Satoru Gojo the strongest, the untouchable, the man who stood above all

Would willingly fall for you, every single time.

All your insecurities melted away.

[nightscythe]

the primarchs as dom/sub

sorry if this has been done before, I just couldn't get it out of my head. based this on my more dark view of the lore/universe and how I write them. there is a secret third (sixth?) option, vanilla.

nsfw, 18+ below the cut. mostly pre-heresy

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the lion: dom. top of the charts. in his everyone is there to serve him, and you are no different. into all that humiliation and degradation, thoroughly enjoys the way you writhe under him and beg him so desperately. he'll hold your face towards him and ask you if you really deserve him in that way. makes you beg until you're crying. he just looks at you lovingly and finally gives you what you want, not before he makes it agonisingly slow for you. will still please you just to prove a point and he's surprisingly good at it, especially with his huge hands and his tongue. loves you deep down, but truly believes its his place to be above you and telling you what to do. gets you to clean him up afterwards and maybe lets you lay with him.

fulgrim: switch. it's too easy to say he's into everything, but I do believe he would try everything at least once, and is happy to indulge anything he likes. sometimes that's putting a collar on you and admiring his view as he tells you step by step what you'll be doing next. sometimes it's being held down to the bed with the softest of ribbons as you pour hot wax over his chest. he wants to explore what there is to offer and if you're open to it, so is he. so that does mean odd things as well, unexpected little kinks and treats along the way. admires the marks left on both your skin and his, as long as its not permanent.

perturabo: soft dom. doesn't like giving up his control to you, but doesn't reach the hard limits of dominating you fully. his touch is soft and his words and commanding, but only because he is usually like that. probably prefers to not treat you like another one of his men behind closed doors... but still doesn't want you telling him what to do. most probably tried it once and hated it (secretly didn't mind it but he struggles with actually acting submissive, as much as he wanted to be babied some more). there's not many kind words, just pulling your hair where he wants you, grunting as a return of satisfaction, pushing your face into the mattress but giving you enough room to breathe. its a personality thing, really.

the khan: soft dom. he would explore with you, try many things to understand what they are and how they feel, but ultimately he wants to take care of you. the natural result of that is someone who's stroking your cheek and hushing away the tears as you choke on his cock for the seventh minute straight. calls you his baby (or like, something equivalent) as he watches you use him to get yourself off, whimpering and moaning his name, something which genuinely warms him. can make any day better for you, loves to whisper to you how much he cares for you, loves to make you forget anything bad happened with those hands and fingers of his. tucks you in afterwards, protects you with his whole being. aww.

leman: vanilla. my most controversial take. my feeling is he craves connection and someone who understands him, and he's a passionate lover. that isn't to say he wouldn't try being dominant or submissive (probably the latter less so) but his preference is vanilla. something pure filled with emotions. he's so caught up in the moment that he doesn't have time to stop and thinking about telling you to what to do and how to do it. he just goes with whatever happens. maybe externally he puts on a gruff and domineering persona but actually, that doesn't matter to him. he just wants to see you happy and whatever that takes he will do - so he'd happily try any of the kink stuff you wanted. just don't expect him to want to be called daddy/master/etc or submit to you.

dorn: switch. thought about him being vanilla but I don't think he would be. its an interesting world to explore. he's perceptive to whatever you need, but understands that one person has to take a submissive role, and one person a dominant role. maybe that goes to extremes sometimes and he's telling you to call him sir, or he's presenting himself to you tied up (because you may have enjoyed that), but mostly its just the soft things. likes it either way and lets you take control most of the time. only thing he's precious about is giving head, he will always do that in the most submissive way, like he's feasting on nectar from the gods, blessed with each move of his tongue. an interesting experience, to say the least.

curze: soft dom. thinks it is his place to be in control but isn't precious about it like some of his brothers. not as gentle or as caring as he could be during sex but he certainly takes the lead and has something to show about it. wraps his fingers around your neck, holds your hands down against the bed so you can't move, leaves bite after bite over your neck and chest until you're covered in a reminder that you are his. in the same vein, quite possessive, and his more dominant tendencies seem to come out of that is threatened. would probably overstimulate you to let out his frustrations and remind you again that you are his. greedy is the word. wants all of you, to himself, forever and ever. kinks is a different story, but is holding your head underwater until you cum a really dominant thing..?

sanguinius: sub. sorry but like, the first ever thing I thought about with him was calling him a good boy. a very soft lover in general, he lets you take control and thrives off being told how well he is doing, that he's the one who makes you feel this good. isn't afraid to whimper for you, lay down all his strength just so you can tie his pretty arms to the frame of a bed and stroke him over and over again until he begs for it. endures it all just so he can see you ride him. lets you push him around test him. oh, he loves it when you tease him. cockwarming. rubbing him through his clothes. whispering to him that he needs to wait, but doing everything in your power to make him cum there and then? would do absolutely anything for you.

ferrus: soft dom. a bit vanilla at first, with actions and feelings not being his strongest selling point. a man of practicalities seeks to understand everything about you and learn your interests. but of course strength and perfection is key to him. everything he does is dominant. it starts with seeking you out, pushing you against the wall, lips ghosting your ear as you feel how much he needs you. the smirk when he feels how wet you are from just... the thought of him. every movement is precise, and equally intense. you feel all of him, and he makes sure you understand that he is in control here. making up with him in this manner may result in more dominant, hot tempered moments, telling you exactly what he's going to do, and you're going to like.

angron: vanilla. maybe a bit controversial as well. was thinking soft dom but then changed my mind, he's just naturally imposing and domineering but not dominant. when he had the capability to understand love and relationships in that way, I feel it was very personal to him. he wanted to feel the truth, not arbitrary words of praise or command. so therefore it does not steer in a particularly dominant or submission direction for either of you, it's a moment of you being truly together. probably the least kinky as well imo. as time progresses it becomes more feral, more of an untamed desire, which is still unmatched to either side. personality wise he is probably more dominant though so take that as you will.

guilliman: soft sub. but like close to vanilla. he doesn't need to be told what to do or pushed around, but just a little guidance. someone to kneel beside him, stroke him slowly, maybe play around with him to test his limits, really learn to understand him. very eager to please you especially when he's between your legs looking up at you with his eyes wet and eyes devious. just tell him he did well, you enjoyed it. makes him come back for more. almost a bit timid, afraid he may hurt you in some way, shy as well. of course by the time he is resurrected he's just baby boy™ but also a regent so the second he has some time away from, you know, being the regent, he just wants forget everything else going on and get lost in you.

mortarion: dom. how could he be anything else? at first its just letting out his frustrations but then it's something more. primal. there's no maybes with him, no suggestions. he tells you what to do and you do it. sometimes he would be a bit softer, but its rare and usually when he's tired or his mind is elsewhere. he's in control of everything, he tells you when you can cum, he tells you when you can move, and god forbid you don't listen to him. if he hasn't given you permission well... its a week of edging and desperation for you. likes seeing you helpless before him. but when it's all finished and his needs are dealt with, he's got his arms around you and he won't let go. a weird way of registering his feelings.

magnus: switch. thought about this one too long. sometimes he'd love to be cared for, have his hair stroked as you praise him. other times, he's got you up against a wall and using all that size to his advantage. kind of like exploring what their is to offer, but his preferences do not lean towards dom or sub individually, maybe just a very small amount towards sub because he feels utterly useless without being told just how well he is doing. doesn't mean he's not smug about it when he finds you alone thinking about it. that's when his more dominant side comes out. if we are talking about demon form though it's definitely dom all the time.

horus: soft dom. it's not that he can't be fully dominant. he can. but why do it when he can be taken care of with soft kisses and making you happy too? hence the soft bit. likes to watch with his hand in your hair as you suck him off. tells you to take a little more of him and softly encourages you, never forces you. it's like a subtle hint, one you will get, or he'll just add a touch more dominance for show. discovers the daddy kink by accident and is fascinated with it. show daddy what a good girl you've been. holds your hands down as he's behind you. praises you gently and rewards you for small things during the day. probably loves going down on you as well as a reward for bigger things. but he'd never take it too far, he just enjoys the simpler things.

lorgar: sub. so eager to please. wants to be rewarded. he'd be on his knees for days if you'd let him, begging, wanting a small taste. even just your scent makes him hard. would wait for your command to do anything - touch himself, touch you, etcetc. whines and whimpers until you finally let him cum each time. at first its seems like he hates it but he does very much like it. any time you don't tell him what to do he looks lost and needs your guidance. based on this he would always let you be on top and especially likes it when he can look at you and worship you. every part of your body is divine to him. any time you're apart he's thinking of you and wondering when he will next get to hear your voice command him around. whipped.

vulkan: soft dom. super protective of you and isn't afraid to show it. has you take about your day as he goes down on you. tells you not to stop and looks to you curiously when you can't get your words out straight. is always so gentle though he could never reach the level of dominance like some of his brothers, its barely even soft dom - it's gentle, passionate, but every single one of his movements means something. tells you how well you are doing as you take his whole length and holds you close. likes hearing every sound you make and still asks permission to do everything, uttering things like may I? as his lips and tongue finds your body. really cautious of hurting you.

corax: dom. nothing soft about him. maybe to everyone else he looks like he would not value anything physical, but really, he's an absolute...menace? has you over his knee letting out his frustrations one spank at a time. likes it when you cry his name. rubs you through your clothes and laughs when you're an overstimulated mess on the floor. master/slave dynamic at some points. and it feels like it goes on and on for hours with him, he plays out fantasies in his head, has you on your knees then in his lap making you watch in the mirror as you cry and beg. but afterwards he would clean you up every time and fall asleep with you between his arms because he's quietly, and a lot less obviously, devoted to you too.

alpharius: soft sub. though he could be anything. i like to think one twin is soft sub and one is soft dom, which would technically make the single entity a switch. is it too late to change? considering I see him as a bit of a yandere it may be a bit of a surprise, but his darker side is outside the bedroom. inside, he is sweet and innocent, he's begging for praise and to be held. has you straddling his lap with your fingers in his mouth making him wait patiently for you to be ready to actually please him. handsy, touches you everywhere, barely contains himself around you. you'd get suspicious when he tells you to stop, throws you onto the mattress and takes you from behind... but hey, they don't know what each other are like. daydreams about you though. has a little notebook with hearts around your name but no one can see it.

˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗

I know not everyone will agree but I hope I at least made you think!!

[meelusinee]

𝜗𝜚 the breaker | mattheo riddle

warnings: toxic!mattheo (like extremely), psychological abuse, drug use and drugging, corruption, blackmail mention, manipulation & coercion

THE BREAKER. usually it’s the heartbreaker, but you know better than that. at the end of the day, mattheo is nothing more than his father’s son. we all know how toxic he can get, sometimes people might like the toxic fantasy. but what if it got worse? more dangerous than that? would you still want him then? he’d make sure you would.

THE BREAKER. a man who’s dangerous and cunning, who knows how to get a job done when he’s ordered. and when his father ordered that he get information out of you? the pure and innocent girl who had been wrapped into dumbledore’s schemes? well, it was almost too easy for him. so in pure mattheo style, he had to make it fun. not fun for you, oh no. just fun for him.

THE BREAKER started with a clock. a ticking clock. act one of his plan was to get you to trust him, to fall in love. he’d make you feel special, like you where the only girl in the entire world. astrology dates, picnics at lunch, sneaking off in the middle of the night for nothing more than a simple hangout. he was insatiable for you, there was nothing that could go wrong. right? he’ll give you the time of your life in any way you can imagine once he has a hold of you, taking all of your firsts so nobody else could have them without you thinking of him. dancing in the kitchen? he’s pouring wine. your first kiss? already perfected his lips. any intimate moment? already crafted careful and sweet just for your tastes. tastes he doesn’t care too much about, but he’d need in the long run.

THE BREAKER who has fun playing with you once he truly gets you. you’re already too far down to notice that he’s slowly manipulating you. he’ll isolate you from friends. lie to you about things. lovebomb and blackmail you. you’d question everything about anything, whether he truly loved you. surely he did, right? he did all of those nice things. so why would he do this? surely this wasn’t the mattheo you knew. did you deserve this treatment? and anytime you’d try to leave? he’d play a game of chase, always in the woods where you end up back in his arms and your mind fuzzy with the after effects of amortentia. maybe somewhere down the line he fell for you too, though you would never truly know.

THE BREAKER who slowly starts to control your entire life. friends? gone. food? fed directly by him. classes? he could easily threaten the teachers into his bidding. clothing? all chosen by him now, pink and dainty just like a porcelain doll. he liked the innocence you had about you, wanting to preserve it in any way he could.

THE BREAKER who stole a bit of your magic in your sleep to enchant chess pieces. they represented his control over you, every move bringing him farther and farther into your mind until you had no choice but to obey everything. and once you did? you’d become his entire world. something that could follow orders and listen to commands aimlessly, something that he started to admire for those qualities. you had finally won over his affection, which only pulled you in deeper and deeper. you’d tell him secrets about everything, do anything that he asked. and when you were asked why? it’s nothing more than just pure love!

THE BREAKER who broke you so far you can’t recognize yourself in the mirror anymore. you’ve changed, a living doll for his amusement. but that didn’t matter anymore. only he needed to see you now.

[thepossummoldypasta]

Home in the Forest part 1

a sequel to this short fic

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

When Steve Harrington presented as an omega, there was much talk and excitement in Hawkins. Not the good kind of excitement, mind. Steve was (supposedly) very rich and peculiar, and had been the wonder of Hawkins high for years. In the beginning Steve was the ideal, perfectly set to present as an alpha and live life in the Fast-n-Easy lane.

But now.

Oh now, Eddie has front row seats to the king's great downfall. And it's hard to watch. Eddie's life turned upside-down when Steve turned up in the back of his van, still woozy from his first heat. To be perfectly clear the alpha would change nothing.

Well almost nothing.

When he had found Steve, the brand new omega was close to inconsolable-- it had taken close to an hour and copious amounts of comfort-cuddles before Steve had calmed down--all because of how his family had reacted to his designation. Apparently when someone is raised their entire life to be the ideal alpha and doesn't live up to those expectations the results are harsh.

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington had apparently thrown the screaming match to end all, hurling violent insults at each other, at Steve, and then at each other again. When words had eventually failed Mrs. Harrington had confiscated everything soft in the house , locked it in the garage, and skipped town with father dearest. (It still make's Eddie feel sick remembering Steve's heartbroken proclamation of having no nest besides the sad clump of blankets he'd commandeered from Eddie.)

Those things Eddie would change, alas they are things he cant control. What he can do, what he did do, is bundle Steve up into the Munson trailer and try to help him out as much as he can going forward.

They're starting slow; getting Steve settled into a real, actual, nest, and a safe place to stay. Wayne has agreed to let the young omega shelter at the trailer for however long he needs and Eddie has agreed to make off with as many of Steve's belongings as he can so Steve never has to go back to the Harrington House of Horrors. There's not much to whisk away, just what little comforts Steve had hidden away and hoarded, Eddie doesn't even bother with the starched-stiff clothes in the closet.

He does bother to pick the lock on the garage door and grab every sheet and blanket he can get his hands on. If Mrs. Harrington figures Steve can do without them, Eddie figures she can too.

It's all worth it when he nudges open the door and finds Steve lounging comfortably on the Munson's squishy couch with a mug of tea and Scooby-doo dancing across the tv screen. The alpha has never seen the young boy look so relaxed before, even in the van there was a looming undercurrent of uneasiness. All of that is gone now replaced with lazy joy, stiff polos traded in for Eddie's favorite band tee.

"hey sweetheart" he murmurs gently as he makes his way over, planting a shy kiss on Steve's temple.

Eddie still isn't used to the soft comfort of their new, blooming, relationship. It feels akin to a summers love, temporary yet all consuming. They have been tiptoeing around each other and leaning in for shy affection, neither quite sure of the complete nature of their relationship. They're scent mates, that's for certain, but scent mates aren't soulmates. Scent mates aren't destined for romance and while Eddie and Steve have been taking comfort in physical affection with each other, the omega has been starved his whole life of that very same thing. Eddie would never complain if the gentle holds and kisses where wholly platonic, but part of him hopes for something more.

Eddie hopes that one day Steve's Lemon-honey tea and lavender scent will be so intertwined with his own basil smell that neither one of them will remember what it was like before. He hopes one day Steve will have his own pack and all the love he deserves, no matter where it comes from.

Steve responds to the kiss with a small purr waiting for the lanky alpha to meander around the couch and join him.

"how'd it go Eddie?" he asks hesitantly.

"It went good," he smiles "got everything you asked for, and some souvenirs to boot." Steve flips around so his whole body is facing the alpha, smacking Eddie's arm.

"Eddie!" Steve squawks, interrupted by The other boy's laughter, "Eddie please don't tell me you stole my Dad's watches!" laughter bubbles out from Steve's lips as he talks so Eddie knows he wouldn't be in any trouble if the answer was yes. Instead the wild haired alpha lets out a scandalized gasp.

"Stevie you wound me! I would never, especially when you told me not to." Eddie lets a playful pout overtake his face as he pulls Steve against his side and into a loose side hug. "I simply secured as much nesting material from castle Harrington as I could. Now if you're done slandering my good name I shall bring such belongings inside for you." Eddie stands, his pout has been replaced by a sly grin as he releases his hold on Steve. The alpha slaps his knees and stands watching Steve fold his legs underneath him and get comfortable again.

"You really didn't take anything besides blankets?" Steve asks, arching a skeptical brow.

"Well--" Eddie drawls hand slipping to his belt. "that and your mothers pearls." Sure enough when he holds his hand aloft, Eddie is holding Mrs. Harrington's favorite pearl necklace. The alpha presses a smarmy, sarcastic, kiss to the gleaming white string of pearls as he makes his exit and Steve howls with laughter.

Eddie isn't normally such a ham but if it makes Steve laugh so carefree and happy then he's more than willing to double down on the dramatics. Steve is healing--and he knows that will be slow going--but there are so many little moments like this that tell him everything is going to be okay.

[sir-myst-cake]

First post on here and it's a rant!! If you want more cool takes you should totally follow me as I'll be posting here more often and have totally cool art to share‼️‼️

I'm not completely sure how to tag this? I'm talking about the ships in a positive light so I think it's okay, and besides, I want lots of peeps to see it, I'm aware I probably won't change many people's minds at all, but it's okay lol, I just want Anti's to see they genuinely have a nothing burger and need to leave people alone.

This is a mostly TikTok only problem regarding Beast x Ancient's (thank god) but I've seen my fair share elsewhere like on here. So lemme counter every argument I've seen so far cause you got a lot of time on your hands to be telling people to off themselves over Cookie ships 😭 put that hate into people who actually deserve it.

BILLFORD COMPARISON

Regarding ShadowVanilla specifically, people have compared the ship a lot from both sides, but what really got me is what I've seen here:

"Shadow Milk Cookie is way worse than Bill! He drove Pure Vanilla to insanity! He tortured him!"- This is in regards to how people bring up the fact Anti's are fine with one thing but not the other when it's basically the same thing they're against. Psychological, physical, mental, and emotional torture. I'll be honest I haven't watched Gravity Falls whatsoever, but my friend has, and from what she says, yeah Bill is the definition of a cruel and unusual punishment. He's done some crazy things, absolutely heinous, might even be a little worse than Shadow Milk or on the same level, either way though-

You can't like one thing and then not the other, it's different flavors of the same thing, it's hypocritical. Either you hate them both or you hate neither.

"Those are 2 different fandoms!"- Doesn't matter, it's the same thing, just different media, it's not different whatsoever aside from the universe, there's much torture involved on both ends.

ABUSER X VICTIM

This one I've seen A LOT and I'm just ??

"If you ship Beast x Ancient's you support Abuser x victim btw"- That's a STRETCH. You are reaching FAR. Nobody is romanticizing the abuse, nobody is normalizing it, it's stuff that happened in canon and we acknowledge it but nobody is doing any of that other stuff. I'm not condoning anyone in real life to do that shit lol. It's called exploring, they have an interesting dynamic, romantic or platonic, two sides of the same coin. You can say the same thing about horror movies, they put a lot of disturbing stuff in there. Do the movie producers CONDONE any of that stuff? Obviously not. Goes for Devsisters too, they don't condone body mutilation yet they still made Burning Spice rip off Cheese's wings.

But even so, for the people who DO like it for the angst, I won't say fiction doesn't affect reality because it does in many cases, but this isn't one of them. Not every relationship is going to be peachy and perfect, just like in real life. I can give an example on this one too actually.

GoldenLily, they aren't condoning what Lily (technically) did to Golden Cheese's kingdom, but they like it for all the potential, complicated feelings and emotions that come along with it.

Also, that's basically the same thing with Beasts x Ancients, just turn it around to enemies to lovers.

"This isn't Villain x hero, this is abuser x victim"- Are you saying MOST of media is abuser x victim then? This is in fact a typical hero x Villain trope, it's nothing new. Respectfully, you guys freak out when a Villain does villain stuff, I'd be surprised if there was a villain who DIDN'T cause any trauma for the opposing party. But according to this logic, media is just dead, no more fanfiction, no more what ifs, no more content since it's all apparently problematic and not canon. Even if somebody switches stuff up in an AU, and makes things completely fluffy, that's apparently still not enough.

"oh you had to make an AU to ship them because you know it's toxic"- No, it's just playing around with scenarios. Learn to separate fanon from canon. This specifically goes for the redeemed AU's I see of the Beasts, people still complain, they act as if people can't change. One of the biggest examples I have of that is FlutterCord, Discord did plenty of messed up things, but in the end, he still managed to change. You'll still get burned at the stake for it though.

"You must be an abuser yourself to condone this!!"- Extremely disrespectful and a WILDDD take. Need I say more??

"I ship Beast x Beast rather than Beast x Ancient's"- According to your logic, the Beasts are abusers right? And if we followed the same story, they are not mentally well whatsoever. You'd rather ship 2 dangerously mentally unstable characters together who'd just make each other worse? Destroy each other? Fuck each other up beyond belief? It doesn't make sense does it, nor is it fair for y'all to praise these ships but hate on the others. You like watching the cookies crumble huh 😭

CANON

"The ship isn't canon!"- We know that, everyone should know that. With what I said earlier, please learn to separate fanon from canon. That's what a fandom is, we do non-canon stuff, it's very fun, you should try it.

"It's a Proship/Dark ship!"- Going the canon route, Beasts are Eons old, Ancients are thousands of years old. Big gap yes, but nonetheless all of them are old as fuck. Older than bloodlines. Treating the Ancients as if they aren't grown adults. You're intentionally trying to make it weird. Stop calling ships you don't like proships please.

Also a little off topic but please don't listen to everyone you interact with on TikTok?? I remember one time I was scrolling through a comment section and saw somebody say "Doesn't Mystic Flour Cookie hate Burning Spice Cookie?" On a MysticSpice vid, looked in the replies, somebody asked for proof/where it was implied, and they didn't answer 💀 just blatantly spreading misinformation. Sources around you are way more reliable than people who don't back up their claims.

CONCLUSION

Even despite all this, you still have the right to feel how you wanna feel. Just please stop harassing people for simple stuff like this, in all honesty, I feel like it's more about seeing one of your favorite characters shipped with somebody who hurt them in canon that makes peeps upset. Which I can totally understand because I used to be exactly like that, I LIVEEEE for Dark Cacao Cookie, when Mystic Flour's update came out, I wanted her dead. Quite literally blocked someone because I couldn't stand seeing their MysticCao art. Hated what she did to my baby boy fr.

But then It started growing on me, over time, I just realized it was never that serious.

Even so, notice how I still didn't go out of my way to harass said person about it because I specifically didn't like it? It really is that easy. Block and go about your day.

I also suspect this because of stuff like this 💀

Love that person who replied, but it's not that hard y'all. We all can in fact, get along.

ANYWAYSSSS thanks to those who took the time read, I love you my pookies hope you have a good day or night💕💕

[badomenslullaby]

Chapter One

Paring: Noah x Fem reader Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Abstract: In a kingdom on the brink of upheaval, Princess Lilith is thrust into power far sooner than she ever imagined when her father suddenly falls gravely ill. With a sword in her hand and a mind sharper than any blade, she navigates treacherous waters: politics and royal expectations. Ensuring her kingdom's security, she is forced to go through a political marriage with the ruthless Lord Cassius; a union at an unbearable price. Yet in the shadows stands Noah, her devoted knight, and forbidden love. He is her unspoken promise, the man willing to sacrifice honor, life—everything—for her safety and happiness. As they fight against the chains of the lives the world has imposed upon them, they are faced with decisions about whether or not love will be able to bear the pressure of duty, deception, and the ever-present threats of those who

MasterList

“I will dispose of him for you,” Noah says, kneeling before her.

His hands are rough yet gentle as they clasp hers. He’s always gentle with her. 

“Your Highness, My love, please… it is of little consequence to me. I would rot in prison if you asked me to.”

Noah is not above begging, even though he knows he’s been reduced to this. He can’t bear the thought of her marrying that man. With her father's sudden illness, the Kingdom of Aeloria, now crowned by its young queen, had been thrown into turmoil. She deserved so much more than this fate. Noah, her knight, would give everything and anything to ensure she received nothing less than the best.

As her lover, he only wants her.

“That man will drag you down with him. He frequents brothels and has not an ounce of loyalty in him. He’d make you appear incompetent.” 

He has had this Lord Cassius followed around long enough to know all about his less-than-savory tendencies. A marriage to the son of the duchess with the largest territory in the empire would do her good. It would strengthen her claim and solidify her position on the throne. But Noah knows that, no matter how strategically advantageous such a union may be, a vile man is no match for her.

He's never been naive enough to dream that he himself would ever marry her. Noah, a former street urchin who was knighted, owes his position in life to the pity she showed him on that rainy day. But to her, he is nothing more than her loyal shadow, her secret, something hidden behind closed doors. He'll never be more.

She still needs to marry someone who will bend to her every whim, someone easy to manipulate and control. Why her parents, King Aldric, and Queen Seraphine, want her to marry that heathen, Cassius (whose name alone disgusts him) is beyond Noah. The extra allegiance may be useful, yes, but at what cost? Surely, she'd only look a fool marrying a man who openly consorts with other women. Noah can’t let that happen.

She must have so much on her mind, Noah thinks. Her younger brother, Prince Emyr, was sent to marry the tyrant of another empire, and now she’s being forced to take the throne far sooner than she ever expected. He wants nothing more than to lighten her burden. He would do anything, kill anyone, to make her life even a little bit easier.

Lilith gives him a sad smile. She hated to see him begging. She gently takes his fingers and kisses them. His face softens, though he looks no less determined as she does so.

“Your father…he should not have put you in this position,” he says bitterly, the words like bitter poison in his mouth.

It’s treason to speak ill against his king, and it could get him killed, yet Noah has to bite his tongue to stop himself from being even harsher with his words. It’s the only thing he can do if he must, to prevent his lover from being married off to someone she will despise. Despise him.

"Noah, I could never bear to see you in prison," she said, her voice quiet but unwavering. "I don’t know what I would do without you by my side."

His eyes close, and he lets out a tired breath. “You’d manage, Your Highness. Perhaps you’d find someone who suited your position better.”

The words hurt to say. His fingers caress her hand before he dips his head and presses his lips to the back of them. “I do not wish to decide for you, Lilith. I only wish to see you in an arrangement more suitable to you.”

That Cassius man is not worthy to be on his knees before Lilith, nor his lips upon her knuckles. Noah hates it.

She lets out a sad sigh, her gaze dropping for a moment. "You know how I feel… I hate the thought of marrying someone who isn’t you."

A spark of hope in the back of his mind makes his lips part, to say something, when he hears one of her guards coming up the hall. Quickly, he lets go of her hand, stands, and bows his head. The guard doesn’t spare him a glance. Lilith’s good reputation keeps her from having to deal with any unsavory gossip, despite Noah’s late-night visits. They’ve been so careful.

Once the guard has passed, Noah’s eyes meet hers, and her hands. “I understand, Your Highne—” He stops. “Lilith.”

She gives him a small smile and slightly chuckles. She always finds it cute when he catches himself calling her by title and not by name.

Your chambers?" he says, a small smile on his face. The expression is different from hers, a little darker.

He is already thinking of what he'll do to her once they're behind closed doors, how he'll lose himself in her and let everything else fade away. Just for a little while, he wants to forget.

Forget the impending threat of Cassius.

Lilith meets his gaze, her voice is soft. "Please… lead the way."

He gives her his arm and leads her to her chambers. The guards give him the same disinterested looks as they pass. Once inside he can’t help himself: her lips are too soft and too sweet. His arms go around her and he holds her in a firm embrace and kisses her.

She gently cups his face in her hands, her touch warm and steady. Then, without hesitation, she kisses him—deeply, desperately. It’s a kiss filled with sadness, anxiety, and love, all tangled together in a way only they could understand.

They move to the bed, and he gently lays her down, his touch both careful and certain. He stays beside her, his lips lingering just above hers before pulling away just enough to speak.

"Let me take care of everything," he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise. "I can make your situation more desirable."

Before she can respond, his mouth finds her jaw, then her neck, trailing slowly, reverent kisses as if he’s committing every inch of her to memory.

"He won’t be a problem much longer," he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin as his fingers work at the buttons of her dress. His kisses are slow and firm, each one laced with unspoken promises. He moves with practiced ease, half the buttons undone when a sudden, urgent knocking shatters the moment. Rapid and insistent.

In one swift, instinctive movement, Lilith and Noah pull away from each other. She hastily readjusts her dress, smoothing it out as she sits upright on the bed, her composure returned. Noah, sensing the shift, crosses the room and positions himself, standing guard with his back to the door.

"Come in," Lilith says, her voice calm yet carrying authority.

Two of Cassius' guards enter the room, but the Lord himself is noticeably absent, much to Noah's obvious annoyance. They bow low and Lilith gestures for them to rise.

"Excuse the interruption, Your Highness," one of them says, his voice respectful but with regret. "We have had to confine your betrothed to his quarters; he was found drunk with not one, but two women. We are at a loss with what to do about this situation, and I deeply apologize."

Lilith rubs her face, her fingers pressing against her forehead as if trying to push away the weight of the situation. She’s lost for words, a moment of stunned silence hanging in the air as she processes the news.

The guards exchange nervous glances, the weight of what they have to say hovering over them like a cloud. After a brief pause, the first one hesitates before speaking again, his voice even more strained.

"There is more, Your Highness," he says, his gaze lowered. "The women are with child. We know not what to do, especially in light of your engagement to Lord Cassius, set for two turns of the moon."

"With... his child?" Lilith’s voice trembles slightly, a mix of disbelief and rising anger. "Both of them?"

Both of them. Yes, Your Highness," the guard replies, his tone regretful. "We would not have believed it if not for the doctors and midwives who confirmed it. What would you have us do? The… ladies of the night… are adamant about being taken care of, and Lord Cassius was quite insistent on not doing that."

Noah stands in the background, his jaw clenched tight, his hands clamped down on the hilt of his sword. He's doing the best he can to not look too satisfied, though a flicker of something dark crosses his face.

Lilith takes a deep breath, her eyes steady as she processes the news. "For the ladies," she says calmly but firmly, "No woman should have to go without proper medical attention during these months. The situation may be regrettable, but the gift of life is always beautiful. I won't allow them to stay in the castle, but I still want to make sure they have a safe place. See to it, please."

The guards bow and exit, the door clicking shut behind them. As the silence settles, Noah lets out a low laugh, the sound rich with satisfaction. 

“Good,” he says, his voice tinged with amusement. “I was beginning to fear you’d have to marry him.”

Lilith's gaze narrows, eyes pinning to him. "You did this. How?" There is both curiosity and a hint of suspicion in her voice. He is standing too pleased for her taste.

Noah walks toward her, his steps measured, and kneels before her, taking her hands gently in his. He presses a soft kiss to her knuckles, his lips lingering for just a moment.

 "Nothing is ever for free," he says with a knowing smile. "But I can tell you one thing, my coin was well spent."

Lilith rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the smile that tugs at her lips. She reaches out, her fingers brushing his cheek as she gently caresses his face, her thumb tracing soft circles.

 "You, Sir Knight," she says with a teasing tone, "are one tricky cat."

She giggles softly, her lips curving into a playful smile before she leans in and gives him a soft, sensual kiss, the warmth of the moment lingering between them.

He leans into her, gently pressing her down onto the bed as his hands work with urgency, starting to work her out of her dress. The feel of her warm skin and the intoxicating scent of lavender overwhelmed his senses. Every touch was a silent declaration, that he loved her, and was consumed by desire for her. The thought that she might one day marry another was a torment that made him ache with a fierce longing never to let her go.

Her soft sounds, the quiet moans escaping her lips, ignite something deep within him, a fire that burns brighter with every breath.

If only she weren’t forbidden fruit. Noah desires nothing more than to marry her, that they be on even ground in all aspects, and she doesn't have obligations and responsibilities that keep her beyond him. Maybe in another world, in another life…

"Lilith," he murmurs, lips grazing from hers down her jaw, down the side of her neck, farther down to heaving breasts.

"I live and breathe for you alone."

"I cannot ask you to live and breathe for me alone," she says softly, her voice filled with both love and sorrow. "You deserve to live for yourself. But know this; my heart beats with yours, and I will carry you with me in every step I take. Our love may be forbidden, but it will never be forgotten."

“I could live forever hearing those words from your lips,” he whispers, with each word being a vow. He will spend every moment of his life ensuring she gets the praise and affection she deserves.

His lips trail further down her chest, pressing soft, light kisses to her collarbones, her shoulders, and along her arms. He’s determined to kiss every inch of her body, every piece of her body that's his, if but to show how deeply he loves her. And he must.

Her heart races as she feels his soft kisses, the weight of his devotion sinking deep into her chest. She lays a hand on his face, guiding him to look up at her. 

"You are my protector, my knight," she whispers, her voice filled with tenderness. "But you must remember, your life is bound to me only by duty, not by choice. And yet, here you are, choosing me despite the consequences. I could not ask for more, and I can only hope that in this love we share, you will never lose yourself.”

Her words melt every fiber of his being, much as they had when he first swore himself to her the day they met, much as they did when they confessed their love. Noah can only stare at her, helpless, his lips parted in awe.

“My only duty is to you, always," he whispers, a devoted tone in his voice. He holds her face between both hands, pulling her close for another kiss. 

"I will worship you however you demand it," he purrs softly with reverence. "For you are my Goddess.”

Her heart swells at his words, but she feels the weight of the responsibility she carries. She cups his face gently, her fingers brushing his skin with a tenderness that combines affection and quiet strength.

“I do not ask to be worshiped Noah,” she whispers, her gaze delving into his. “I am a woman, flesh, and blood, bound by the same fears and longing as anyone else. But your loyalty Your heart. They are everything to me.” She presses a kiss to his forehead, her love for him evident. “And for you, I'd stand against heaven itself.”

Noah feels like his heart will burst in her grasp. She’s so beautiful, so kind, so perfect. His eyes shine with love and worship. He nuzzles into her hand, shutting his eyes in adoration.

He’s the luckiest man in the world to be able to love her; he wouldn't trade it for anything. His hands gently caress her legs as they lay there together, and in this moment, there's nothing he desires more than to please her.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice soft yet filled with longing. “Allow me to stay the night?”

She smiles at him, her eyes filled with warmth, before leaning in to kiss him gently.

"You may stay the night," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with devoted affection.

[sainz100]

2024 Singapore GP | x

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[sysig]

Pivotal bright spot (Patreon)

[cream-and-tea]

SORRY for doing even more pallasposting (<- not actually sorry) but a fun thing about planning for the rest of the gravespeaker trilogy is the realization that pallas actually gets much more bitchy as they start 2 heal. bc like. for most of the the first book they are doing Dissociation Station Level 9000 they are doing “brain fog is to light a term it’s like silent hill in here” they are doing ego death speedrun they are so disconnected from themself that they interpret literally every single emotion they feel as negative because the act of Feeling itself is so wildly uncomfortable that they react to it like a hypothermia victim being dunked into boiling water (<- dying). and all of that goes a long way towards making it hard to express their personality which—crucially—includes the fact that they r annoying. so fucking annoying. absolutely irritating. ungodly petty and spiteful. a hater to their CORE. pallas self actualizing and using everything they’ve learned and how they’ve grown to be a little bastard at a level previously unseen by man they don’t even NEED the horrifying bloodflesh magic anymore they can just enter every fight like “your coat is ugly your shoes are tacky your parents must have never loved you or else they would have taught you the meaning of fuck around and find out you fucked around cutting those bangs and now you’re gonna find out” and kill their opponents that way instead ❤️

[evilkitten3]

having some thoughts on itachi and radicalization and how people can do the most horrific shit imaginable while fully believing it's the right thing to do and police states

[snekdood]

idk who needs to hear this but im giving you a free pass to not give a fuck about anything going on in the world and to unplug from tumblr for a while to focus on yourself and actually take a breath. your problems matter just as much and deserve just as much attention. dont over weigh the worlds problems over your own. you cant even help the world if you dont take a breather. focus on yourself and what you still need to heal or whateva's goin on for you personally.

[protobrieile]

ooooooo i am feeling particularly riled up about marginalized community infighting today

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Career Day

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, crack, jjk men as dads / fem!reader

An: Your child comes home and says tomorrow is career day at their school. They want to bring you and their daddy to school to show off how cool you two are, but.. their dad doesn’t exactly have the most conventional job.

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA

SATORU

“My daddy is the strongest!” Your son explains to a room full of his peers. Satoru is proudly beaming next to him. You note how much they look alike. The white hair, the bright blue eyes. Your son looks like he came straight from Satoru and had nothing to do with you.

But your son, Aoi, definitely had your personality.

“Nuh uh. He can’t be the strongest. Superman’s the strongest!” Another kid protested with an unconvinced frown.

“Well, my daddy is like superman!” Aoi retorts, keeping his headstrong personality like his mama. “Actually, he’s even better than superman!”

“He’s not even wearing a suit!” A different child speaks up. You share a nervous glance with Satoru. He’s enjoying this all too much.

“He doesn’t need a suit to be the strongest, dumbass!” Your sweet boy yells, and you promptly cover his mouth. Satoru is laughing his ass off, making the entire situation worse.

Correction, Aoi trying out his dad’s signature hand signal and saying “domain expansion” made the entire situation so much worse.

“You’re grounded, Aoi. You can’t say those things to other people. It’s rude and hurtful.” You say as you and Satoru walk your young boy home. Aoi lets out a small frustrated groan.

“I’m still getting him ice cream.” Satoru interjects with a proud smile. “My boy tried to cast his first domain at just six-years-old. He deserves a sweet treat.” Two wide smiles look up at you, and you realize you’re outnumbered here. Rolling your eyes, you nudge Satoru.

“I want a girl next.”

SUGURU

Mimiko and Nanako begged Suguru to come to their school’s career day. He was of course hesitant to do so, given that Jujutsu sorcery was still a hidden art in Japan. He didn’t exactly know how to explain his career to a bunch of kids.

He had a plan though. He would just tell the children that he was a preacher at a church. It’s not… completely a lie. He was a leader for.. a type of church.

You and Geto walk into the cozy looking classroom and see a load of other parents there. Your husband grimaced at the thought of having to interact with all these… people.

You give Suguru a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “It’ll be okay. Anything for the girls, right?” You whisper into his ear, making him nod. Anything for the girls.

When it’s finally Mimiko and Nanako’s turn to explain what their daddy does for a living, your small family gathers at the front of the classroom. Plenty of small innocent faces and reassuring smiles fill the room.

“Okay girls, tell us what your parents do for a living.” Their teacher prompts with a warm smile.

“My daddy swallows balls for a living!” Nanako says proudly with a beaming smile.

The kids erupted into laughter while their parents gave you two disgusted looks.

To make matters worse, “He also hates filthy mo-“ Mimiko tries to add on, but Geto quickly covers her mouth with his hand.

After explaining what a vivid imagination your twins have, you go on to explain that Geto is a leader at a church, and well, that doesn’t go over too well either.

“Homeschool?” Geto suggests as the four of you walk home.

“Most definitely.” You agree. Mimiko and Nanako are now educated by you at the home, where they can’t out their dad for swallowing balls.

TOJI

“Mama, make papa come to career day.” Your young son, Megumi, demanded. He had a small little pout on his face, and his arms were firmly crossed over his chest. Behind him, Toji stood, shaking his head at his son’s determination.

He often did this: telling you to make Toji do something because you were the only person who could make Toji do anything. After all these years, mans was still wrapped around your finger.

“Baby, Papa’s job is kinda private.” You explain quietly as you pet Megumi’s soft hair.

The small boy’s look of determination shifted to a look of reserve. Even as a young child, he wasn’t great at showing when his feelings were hurt, but you could always tell.

“Gumi.” You say his name softly, bending over to look at the boy’s flat expression.

You were also the only one who could coax Megumi into showing his real emotions.

Tears welled in his eyes, and his bottom lip started quivering. “I don’t wanna be the only one whose parents didn’t come.”

“Oh baby.” You frown as you pull your son into a hug. You glare upwards at Toji, and his eyes widened slightly. He knew what that look meant. “You’re going to career day.” You say to him, leaving no room for argument.

The next day,

“Okay Mr. Fushiguro, what do you do for a living?” The teacher asks Toji as he’s sat next to Megumi. Your son is actually smiling, enjoying the fact that Toji actually came to career day.

“People pay me a large sum of money, and I take care of someone for them.” Toji explains vaguely.

“Oh! Like a doctor?” One of the kids asked with an impressed smile.

“Sure, like a doctor.” Your husband lies, knowing that he does quite the opposite of what a doctor does.

SUKUNA

The look on the kids faces as your tall, muscular, tatted husband walked into the classroom was hilarious. Most of them were completely mortified, giving Sukuna frightened stares.

Your husband was completely unfazed. If anything, he was soaking in the kids’ fear. He sat at the front of the room with a look of arrogance.

Your nephew, Yuji, sat between you two. No, he was technically not your kid, but he didn’t have anyone else to bring to career day. So, Unc Sukuna and Auntie Yn were to the rescue.

“And.. what do you do for work, sir?” The teacher asked in almost a judgmental tone as she eyed Sukuna. You couldn’t tell if she despised him or wanted to fuck him.

“I don’t work. I live off tithe.” Sukuna bluntly answered with a shrug. His lopsided smile never left his face.

“What’s a tithe?” A small child asked quietly.

“It means people pay me out of fear of that I’ll harm them if they don’t.” Your husband gives a child a sharp stare with a challenging smile. He wanted the kids to keep asking questions. The thought of scaring multiple children all at once fueled him.

“Like… beat them up?” Another child asked.

“Like eating their snot-nosed children.” Sukuna answered with a toothy grin. The children all shrieked and cried in terror. Hell, even their parents looked frightened.

“Ryomen.” You chide as you look over towards your husband. He was laughing maniacally, even slapping his knee like the old man he was.

Yuji never invited you two to another career day.

[imawreck]

His

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky broke up a few months ago against your wishes, and you’d been trying to move on. When Bucky sees you flirting with another member of the team, he leaves for the next mission to avoid getting in your way. Unfortunately, the mission goes bad, and Bucky isn’t himself when he comes back. He also has a lot to say…

Author’s Note: I realize that in most of my fics Thor is the other romantic interest/situationship, but you CANT tell me that man wouldn’t flirt up a storm with a beautiful woman any chance he got. Also, this is my first smutty fic so feedback and comments would be much appreciated! This is on the more explicit side, so please read with caution.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions self loathing/guilt (it’s Bucky, kinda normal), choking kink, Possessive!Winter Soldier, flashbacks, hair pulling, fingering, metal arm kink, dominant!winter soldier, probably some more but those are the big ones.

Word Count: 4,850

Breakups are ugly most of the time, and almost always one sided.

You and Bucky had been apart for at least three months. You’d stopped counting, wanting to forget it and focus on anything else. It was easier that way, to ignore the heartbreak and clutter up your life with other things to do.

Unfortunately, you still lived in the same tower on the same floor, right across from one another. He was constantly around, and no mattered how hard you tried, you just couldn’t avoid him.

It was hell.

And it was only hell because Bucky hardly gave you a good reason for the break up. Sure, you had your arguments. Mostly about his past and how much better he thought you deserved, to which you’d list all the reasons he was wrong. In reality, those weren’t really arguments. It was just Bucky having a low point, which you were more than willing to help him work through. Outside of those moments, you had felt that your relationship with Bucky was near perfect.

So when he had come back from a mission and broke up with you, his only reason being ‘I can’t be with you,’ it’d been a slap to the face. Like someone had shoved a knife in your heart and twisted.

The worst part was that he wouldn’t even allow you the chance to talk to him afterwards. Every time you were in the same room together alone, he’d find every reason not to speak with you.

So, you’d taken the hint and were now trying to figure out a way to move on.

That was made a little easier when a certain God of Thunder made his interest known to you. Thor was sweet, charming, and a little goofy. Not to mention handsome, with his blonde hair and sky blue eyes.

He’d made an effort to woo you not long after you’d parted from Bucky, and you’d informed him that the breakup was hard for you and that you couldn’t really do something new right now. Thor had been surprisingly understanding, and even took to just being friends quite well. Granted, he was still flirty, but he knew where you both stood and was always happy to lend an ear when you needed one.

He turned out to be just the friend you needed.

From the outside looking in, none of the others thought it was ‘just friends,’ especially when Thor would openly show his interest in you. Especially to a certain Super Soldier.

Bucky was painfully aware of what was going on between you and Thor even though he desperately tried not to be.

His super hearing picked up on the soft laughter you and the god would share, on the hushed whispers you’d exchange late over a mug of coffee when you thought everyone was asleep. His every fiber was attuned to you, and he couldn’t help but fixate on your presence.

You were like gravity to him, and he always found himself near you when he knew he should be as far as humanly possible. He saw the little looks you shared when Thor would compliment you, noticed your shy smile when the god would enter the room. He could tell that Thor was winning you over slowly but surely.

He couldn’t fucking stand it.

So it wasn’t a big surprise when he shipped off on the next mission possible.

You worried, your heart still set on loving him, but you tried to pay it little mind. And after a few days, it actually helped. You felt better, found yourself smiling more. You were beginning to move forward.

That was, until the jet was reported missing. Then Bucky was all anyone could talk about in the tower.

Thor tried his best to keep you in the dark about most of what was going on, and it wasn’t hard seeing as you were just a rather good strategist and not a serious Avenger. You were only really included in skimming over preplanned attacks and making sure they hadn’t missed anything critical.

But word still spread, and worry was ever present.

Needless to say, it was very strange when Mr. Stark called you into a private meeting with himself and two other of the elite team.

“Y/N,” He spoke softly in the kind of tone that lets you know that whatever he says next is going to ruin your whole week. “There’s a situation with Barnes.”

You frowned, eyebrows scrunching at him from where you sat at the rather empty end of the long black table. “I’m confused. Bucky and I broke up months ago. Why are you talking to me about it?”

Steve, who you’d befriended while dating his best pal, looked at you with poorly concealed pity from his seat next to Stark. “Because we know he still means a lot to you and that you’re our best hope in this situation.”

That didn’t make you feel better about whatever was going on at all. “What do you mean ‘this situation?’” You eyed them both, before dragging your eyes over to Doctor Banner who hadn’t done much more than stare at you with a concerned expression bordering on panic.

Stark pressed his fingers to his forehead, “Barnes got triggered on his mission and has infiltrated the tower. We have reason to believe he’s after you.”

You gaped at him. That didn’t make any sense. You weren’t important, at least not as important as one of The Avengers. “Me? Why me?”

“We’ve silently shut the building down and we’re working on evacuating the floors without anyone freaking out.” Tony went on, ignoring your questions, “He doesn’t know that we’re aware he’s here, and we’re trying to keep it that way.” Tony motioned towards a monitor, and the image of Bucky popped up on the screen.

Only he was in your room, and he was dragging his fingers over the picture of the two of you that was perched on the nightstand. They way his fingers smoothed over the glass, the slight pinch in his brows as if calculating instead of recalling. It was like he’d never seen it before in his life. Like he had no connection to the image of himself.

It was a picture he had taken, his arm extended and a smile on his face with your lips pressed to his cheek. You had meant to take it down and stuff it in the box under your bed with all the other memories you had hid from sight, but it was just too painful. You needed something to hold onto.

You watched through the screen as he moved around your room, taking note of certain things and taking careful precautions to ensure that anything he moved was set right back in place. It was eerie to watch a man who was once so comfortable in your space tread with so much hesitance. Like it was the first time he’d been in the space all over again.

“Y/N.” It was Steve’s gentle timbre that brought your attention away from the screen this time. He tried to smile, though it was clearly forced. “We need you to lure him down towards the lower levels. We have to get him to a room where we can better contain him. If he finds out we know he’s back and not… him, then he could snap.”

“You want to use me as bait? For the Winter Soldier?” You stared at them both with wide eyes, panic blooming in your chest. “This is insane!”

Steve sighed, “Y/N… Bucky told me about the incident that happened in the beginning of your relationship.”

Your attention zeroed in on the blonde’s words, your breath hitching.

“He told me what could’ve happened… and what didn’t.”

You walked down the corridor of the Stark tower office floor heading back towards your desk from a late night research meeting with a few of your coworkers. You had decided to stay later than the others so that you could collect and organize the information you needed for the meeting with Mr. Stark the following morning. It was very late, and you were tired, the heels you wore had begun to irritate the soles of your feet hours before.

You clutched the files you collected in your arms, heels clicking on the glossy floors and echoing into the dimly lit corridor. So dim that you didn't see the silhouette of the man standing just feet from you until it was too late.

You only saw a flash of silver before the door beside you was torn open and you were roughly shoved inside. Cleaning supplies clattered onto the floor, spilling liquids over your feet as you cried out. A hand clamped over your mouth, and your head hit the wall with a thunk.

Stormy blue eyes stared at you, cold and unfeeling. Eyes you had seen just days before smiling at you and filled with life.

Your lips moved to say his name against the cool metal of his hand, but his grip on your face was nearly bruising. You could only stare back in fear and attempt to press your body further from him.

He didn't speak, only stared at you and kicked the door to the closet shut.

Fear was a living thing in your stomach, writhing as his eyes snaked down to your red heels and back up again. His head tilted to the side, as if he was trying to remember something. But his eyes remained cold and unrelentingly empty. His flesh hand came up to press a finger threateningly to his lips.

‘Quiet.’

You weren't stupid enough to scream, not with the way he was looking at you, with how close he was. When he removed his hand, you did exactly as he wanted. Silence hung in the small closet, suffocating you. Would he kill you? What did he want? Why hadn't he killed you already?

The cool metal of his palm slipped further down, wrapping around your throat and pressing against your thundering pulse. Your head pounded along with it, and a foggy feeling settled over your mind.

But your lungs still filled with air, and you remained aware. The pressure of his hand was ever present, but it was light enough not to cause real damage... Almost like he didn't want to hurt you.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips, the movement catching your eyes. His body leaned forward, his nose pressing into your neck and his warm breath hitting your skin. Goosebumps rose in its wake, and that lick of fear heightened again. He was acting so strangely, and the longer it went on the more unsettling it was.

When he pulled away, there was a heat in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A hunger, and… and recognition.

“Hello, Beloved.”

“We know that he didn’t hurt you, and that he displayed… certain feelings towards you.” Steve’s voice brought you out of the memory, dragging you back to the reality at hand.

The one where he wants you to put yourself smack dab in the path of the Winter Soldier.

“You’re serious about this?” You blink up at him, trying to gauge if he was joking or not. Level headed as Steve was, you trusted him with your life. But this? This was terrifying and completely unexpected. Ridiculously dangerous.

“It’s the only nonviolent way we can think of. And we’re almost certain there’s no high risk for you.” Steve tried to give you a reassuring smile, tried to hide the hint of unease that shone in his tense shoulders.

“You’ve all lost your mind.” You laugh, sighing and raising your chin. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Apparently, so had you.

You stared at the metal doors of the elevator, your heart pounding with each toll of the floors passing. This was probably—no, was— the riskiest thing you’d ever done in your life. You trusted Steve and Mr. Stark, but your brain was trained to find the flaws in plans like this. And so many things could go wrong.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Steve said calmly into your ear, startling you. You’d forgotten they’d given you the earpiece. “I’ll be here the entire time. I’ll guide you through the compound and make sure you stay out of danger.”

You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if they could see you.

“Bucky is leaving your room. We’re going to drop you off in the commons area of your floor. All you have to do is make some noise and then head for the stairwell. Just listen to me, and I’ll get you through this.” Steve sounded so confident in your ear, but it did little to soothe the nerves.

The elevator leveled out, and the doors quietly opened. The large living room opened up before you, unnervingly bright and welcoming despite the danger you knew lurked just down the hall. You stepped out onto the carpet, walking towards the kitchen. Your palms sweat, heart pounding, as you made your way up to the cabinets.

You just had to make some noise. Easy, right?

But your body wouldn’t move.

“Y/N.” Steve’s voice called in your ear again, gently coaxing you from where he watched the cameras. “Make some noise, and then head for the stairs.”

You swallowed, nodding again, and reached with shaky hands towards the cabinet. You grabbed a bowl, and hesitantly set it down on the granite counter. The echoing pok of the ceramic felt too loud in your ears, like a gunshot.

“Good, now move quickly. He’s just down the hall headed your way.”

The words sent a chill down your spine… and something else followed. Something you’d never felt before.

You headed towards the stairs, but your feet felt like lead weights. Like you couldn’t move fast enough even though you knew you were going as fast as you could.

But you could hear the faintest scuff of boots coming behind you and the sound sent your heart into a frenzy.

You raced down the stairs, tripping a few times before righting yourself and continuing your decent down towards the lower levels. Your floor was four levels up from ground level, which meant you had six floors in total to descend before you could get to the containment floor.

Six flights of stairs being chased by The Winter Soldier. A superhuman man who was definitely faster than you, and probably wanted to do something terrible to you. Like a wolf hunting a sheep.

Oh God.

The thought only served to spur the panic rising in you. You kicked up your speed when the door slammed behind you, footsteps pounding after you as the dark silhouette of Bucky Barnes rounded the stairs two flights above.

He took the stairs four at a time, his long legs swallowing up the distance between you. The panic clawed its way up your throat in a strangled cry, and the sound just seemed to quicken his pace.

“I’m not fast enough!” You tried to keep your voice even, tried to keep it quiet in the echoing stairwell so that the soldier behind you would hear.

“You’re almost there, Y/N. Just keep up the pace. Two flights left and—“ but he didn’t get to finish his sentence.

You watched in shocked horror as Bucky’s figure leapt over the railing and plummeted towards the ground. He dropped several flights before his arm snapped out and wrapped around the railing. The sound of metal hitting metal rang out around you as the railing dipped under the crushing pressure.

He hauled himself back onto the stairs just before you. Those cold eyes found yours, dark hair framing sharp features, painting him into something primal. Something wild.

That feeling pounded through you again, skittering along your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck. You still couldn’t place it, not with him stepping towards you with a look that promised violence.

You heard Steve’s voice ordering something over the earpiece, but it was distant. It became clearer a moment later. “We’ve got a team heading in. Just… just hang in there.”

You swallowed, but your throat had gone dry in the presence of the assassin before you. His eyes held you in place as his towering form finally stopped a stair below you, leveling with you face to face. So close you could count the stitches in the Kevlar of his suit.

You felt your body shaking, heard your heart thundering in your ears as your chest rose and fell with each short breath you managed to drag into your lungs.

And he watched every move you made.

His head titled to the side exactly like it’d done the first time you’d been trapped with him. His gaze never left you, eyes wandering over your face and heaving chest before that faint look of recognition settled into those hollow eyes.

And then that heat you’d seen before consumed them.

He stepped forward, and you answered with a step back. For each one he took, you pedaled backwards until your body was plastered against the wall. When you tried to flee back up the stairs, his metal hand planted itself against the wall inches from your head.

You were utterly trapped.

Rough Russian left his lips in the softest whisper. The sound was the same as you’d heart him say before, though you didn’t understand it.

Not until now, as the earpiece Steve had given you translated his words as he spoke them.

“Hello again, Beloved.”

Those blue eyes bored into yours, as his other hand came up to brush your cheek with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of.

“He’s kept me from you for so long.” Bucky’s body leaned forward, caging you against the wall. His metal hand remained pressed against the wall beside you, and the other dragged across the skin of your neck and shoulder in an almost reverent manner.

Bucky’s— no, this wasn’t Bucky. This was the part of Bucky he kept farthest from you. This was a man known for cruel, unimaginable violence. An assassin known by reputation around the world by both hero and criminal alike and feared by all. This was the Winter Soldier.

Winters lips brushed your jaw, stubble tickling the column of your throat as his voice rumbled against your skin. “Kept you to himself. Never let me touch you. Worried I’d damage you, Beloved. Couldn’t see you needed me.”

His teeth nipped at your skin, and a shiver rolled down your spine in answer. That feeling tugged at your mind again, spurred by his words. But still, you couldn’t place it. Not with your mind consumed by his statements and barely contained yearning.

When his head lifted to find your eyes again, the fingers of his right hand tangled themselves in your hair and pulled hard enough to have your scalp stinging. His next words were guttural and biting, “And then he let you go.”

Winters grip loosened a bit, but his hold on your hair remained. “He pushed you away, and then that god tries to take you from me?” His eyes held you, demanding your utter attention as his head shook slowly, “You don’t belong to him.”

Tugging your lip between your teeth, you clenched your eyes shut. God, you wished Bucky would say that to you. Having Winter here saying these words with Bucky’s voice, Bucky’s face. Touching you with familiar hands…

Heat had begun to pool low in your belly.

The words were spoken in English. “Open your eyes.”

There was no room for objection in his voice, so you did as he said. With his jaw was set in an angry line, and those blue eyes boring into your soul, he leaned in closer. “He thinks that being with you is too dangerous, that you aren’t safe with… with us.”

“What?” Your heart hammered in your chest at his words. It was the first real reason as to why Bucky had broken up with you.

Those silvery blue eyes zeroed on your lips as he spoke again. “He thinks we can’t protect you, that I’ll hurt you. That somehow being further from you keeps you safe from what comes with being what we are.” His metal hand left the wall in favor of brushing over your lower lip and trailing the cool tips of his fingers down to the dip of your breasts and back up to the column of your throat. “I’d never hurt you, not the way he has. Not if you didn’t want it.”

“W-what do you mean?” You just knew he was picking up on how your heart beat harder as his fingers trailed over your skin. Or the way you kept shifting on your feet to stave off the heat thrumming in your veins with an all too familiar want blooming and begging for his hands to explore more.

The faintest hint of a smile graced his face as he gave your hair another gentle tug, then loosened his grip once more. “You like this. I’ve seen how you react with him. How you quietly treasure the marks he leaves on your skin even when he feels nothing but guilt.” That metal hand slipped over your throat again and pressed on your neck exactly as he’d done the first time you’d seen Winter. Your head spun at the pressure, but you could breathe easily under the cool press of his palm as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered. “I see how badly you wish he’d touch you with this hand,” he squeezed your neck and loosened it quickly, “How badly you want those marks. How badly you need me.”

You had no words. Nothing to say as he wrung out the truth you’d thought was hidden from him— from Bucky.

Bucky was notorious for avoiding any situation that would make him use the metal arm. He would much rather let it hang there, or act as if he didn’t have it at all. That included when the two of you would get intimate. He never dared to bring it anywhere near you no matter how many times you’d reminded him it was fine, that you weren’t afraid of it. He outright refused to allow it to touch your delicate skin, to let such a catalyst for agony so close to something as precious as you.

Winter knew that you’d secretly craved to feel the cold metal in contrast to his warm skin when he held you. He knew that you would always find it more satisfying when Bucky would lose himself and get rough with you when things got heated. How his flesh hand would leave bruises on your thighs or hips to keep you steady as he thrust himself deeper.

Just the thought had you aching, and here was Bucky’s darker half offering you everything you’d ever wanted.

You were losing your fucking mind.

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, but the words were flimsy and meaningless. He knew the truth, but that didn’t mean you had to say it aloud.

His metal fingers dug into your jaw, his grip near bruising as he tilted your head up to level your eyes with his. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Dollface.” His lips were a hairs-width away, his warm breath fanning over your face.

The scent of him was intoxicating, muddling your mind even further with heady leather and metal invading your nose. The hint of that aftershave you’d missed so much since Bucky broke your heart.

Winter was tearing you apart at the seams.

“Please,” you whispered. Please what? You didn’t know. You could hardly think straight. That feeling was so strong, thrumming along with your pulse and the ache for something. Anything.

“Tell me I’m right.” He mumbled against your skin. Soft lips, a vast contrast to his rough demeanor, to the calloused hand that remained tangled in your hair, trailed down your cheek. “Tell me that you want me. Not the pathetic excuse for a god, or him. That you want me.”

His metal hand released your face, drifting over your neck and dragging over the left side of your chest. He circled once, thumbing over your nipple with a knowing look filled with every sinful promise known to man.

And then he went lower and lower…

His fingers caught the waistband of your leggings, the chill of his fingers raised goosebumps across your stomach, only serving to worsen that burning need.

“Doll,” a command and a question wrapped in one word.

All you had to do was admit your darkest most guarded secret. Confess, and he would give you what you wanted most. What Bucky was too afraid to do.

You opened your mouth, the words tumbling out as he gave your hair another tug.

“I want you.”

That smirk grew just a fraction more, his fingers slipping past your waistband and toying with the hem of your panties.

Fuck, did you wish you’d gone commando today.

“Who am I?” He asked, teeth nipping down your neck hard enough to know they’d leave marks. “I want you to say it, Y/N.”

Those fingers slipped further, rolling over your aching clit in a teasing stroke before he pulled them away again.

If he wasn’t a literal assassin, you’d consider strangling him.

“For fucks sake,” you gripped his arm, your voice unfamiliar in your own ears, ragged and broken. “Winter, please.”

He didn’t waste time, deft, cool fingers dipping into your core with confidence. Soothing that aching heat.

Fuck.

His thumb circled slow as he pumped his fingers, his mouth leaving wet kisses along your jaw up to your lips where he paused long enough to catch a glimpse of your face. You knew you looked like an utter mess, but those blue eyes showed nothing but twisted delight. He leaned forward and tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, bitting hard enough to make you groan.

Winter’s answering grunt of approval urged you further towards the edge of oblivion those perfect metal fingers were working you towards.

God you were so close. Each movement, every touch and bruise he left on your skin pushing you closer and closer. Just a bit more, a fraction more and you’d—

His fingers wrenched away, gone in an instant.

Your eyes, closed from the pleasure just moments ago, snapped open just before the doors to the stairway above and below you burst open. Floods of agents filed through the doors, and a gun fired.

The sharp sound echoed in the confined space making you flinch. Winters back pressed you against the wall, a solid shield of muscle keeping you out of harms way.

Then the weight was too heavy. His body crushing you as he slumped toward the floor. You screamed, immediately thinking the worse as your eyes searched his form in a panic.

But you found no blood, thank God.

“He’s fine, Y/N.”

Steve’s hand on your shoulder had you flinching back, head snapping to his suit clad form. “The gun—“

“It’s just a tranq. I promise, Bucky will be fine.” His face was the picture of practiced reassurance.

A horde of agents rushed forward and cuffed Winters hands and dragged his unconscious body out of the stairwell and further towards the confinement room. Steve remained with you, his eyes flicking to your neck a few times and checking you over to make sure no serious damage had been done.

When you’d gotten yourself back to your room away from the prying eyes and the relentless questions, the reality of what had happened slammed into you.

You just let the Winter Soldier finger you in a fucking stairwell.

And you liked it.

Plunging your fingers into your hair, you took a shaky breath. What the fuck were you thinking? Had you lost your damn mind? Bucky broke up with you three months ago! You were done; over, moving on. He could remember this, for Christ sake! How would you explain it?

Panic writhed in your stomach, but so did the faint ache of need that reminded you of what had just happened mere minutes ago.

The feeling of his metal hand on your skin, the feeling of those fingers working you perfectly and the pressure of his bruising grip.

And that feeling that you couldn’t place.

But now you had a word for it.

From the thrum of your heart as he chased you down the stairs, the promise of violence and sinful pleasure in his eyes. The roughness of his actions…

It was the thrill.

You liked the chase. You liked how rough he was. The delicious blend of panic and pleasure.

And he’d been interrupted before you got the release you’d craved. That you needed.

Frustration boiled to the forefront of your mind, a dozen different strategies with it.

He’d made you confess your darkest secret only to leave you high and dry.

And damn him if he wasn’t going to finish what he started.