#even better if you refuse to spoil the series

[applesafterlife]

anyways does anyone like The Magnus Archives here because I want friends. That will talk to me about it. I don't think my mom wants to hear me ramble 24/7

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Spoiled Brat

Remus Lupin x Fem!Gaunt!Reader

August Taylor Swift

Masterlist

Summary: When your escapism over the summer turns a bit more real, as you fall in love with a half blood your father would never approve of}

Wc- 3642

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, sexual themes and scenes, cussing, }

A/N- This was an idea I have been toying with for a while, this may become a mini-series if you'd like

Taglist- @otterlockholmes

Part two

If it was one thing your parents stuck into your head when you were younger, it was that you, {Y/N} Gaunt, were better than any other witch in your presence. 

‘The Lost Gaunt’ is what they referred to you as. You, and of course, your parents fed into this idea. People were sure they had died out, either from your family's admittedly embarrassing financial status, or from a few choice family members disgracing your blood line with Muggle blood.

It wasn't a secret, your family's blood soaked history and ideals on muggles of any variety. Your father spoke especially lowly of half bloods, saying they were some of the most loathsome and desperate of them all, with parents who tainted their good family names by giving it to scum. 

Very opinionated, that man.

You were much the same when you were younger. Snappy and spoiled, demanded everything and no one ever fought you on it. Even with your family's position with lack of wealth, when your parents came out of hiding as Voldemort started his horrid flock, your father didn't hesitate to join. There was no lack of support from expected places. Every pureblood with half sense wanted to be in the good graces of the heir of Slytherin, even if she didn't attend the school. Little you was treated like an absolute princess. Even receiving a letter from Durmstrang personally, your father opting for the obvious choice, burning your Hogwarts letter before you even read it. 

It made you an absolute terror when you got to the foreign school. Suddenly, you weren't as special as you were in London. Your name still carried a lot of marit, but so did several other students. You learned to keep your mouth shut, to keep your cards to your chest, and eventually, you unlearned everything your parents taught you. You met half bloods there, stronger than you had ever known witches and wizards to be, making close friends with several other open minded purebloods and friendly half bloods. 

Of course, you still had a family name to uphold. You studied and worked your hardest, eventually making it high enough on a social latter that Gaunt no longer mattered, but {Y/N} did. 

You started your rebellious streak in year 4, when your father asked you if you wanted to return home for the summer. It was the first time he gave you the choice, you refused. Instead, you traveled to Muggle London without his knowing. You went with a few friends, half bloods, they wanted to show you where they grew up. Your father would have your head for this. You thought in amusement as you danced through the market and gawked at all the muggle contraptions. You were sure to them you looked absolutely delirious, but you couldn't care less in the moment.

You wandered down the streets with a few girls who had broken off from the group. When you noticed a record store, your friends waved you off, refusing to join when they knew you'd be in there for hours. A boy who fancied you gifted you a small record player, and since then, you had been collecting muggle records at any opportunity. Thank Merlin your father didn't keep track of your spending.

You walked in with your head held high, you already gave off the impression of someone too good to be there, a force of habit. You walked down the aisle and searched the albums, dismissing people who tried to educate you on what was best, mostly men trying to impress you, you figured. Nothing more charming than being spoken down to. Eventually, you made it to some of the older ones, clearly used and used and used again. A soft yellow album caught your eye from the top shelf. Etta Jones? You thought for a moment. You had never seen it before, but the woman on the cover looked beautiful. 

You got on your toes and began to balance on a shelf, struggling to reach the damned record. You have a huff, ready to give in, before you hear a chuckle behind you. Whipping your head around you nearly spun around completely. Then, you saw him. A boy, he looked to be your age, tanned skin with soft pink scars littering his form, with one large one across his face. He had shaggy sandy blonde hair, almost brown, and the cockiest smirk on his face.

You huffed at him and put your hands on your hips, tilting your head at him. “Not very polite, you know. Watching a lady struggle without even an offer of help.” 

His smirk slowly turned to a dazzling smile. “You want my help? You've been blowing past people who've offered you help this whole time.” He remarked and you scoffed.

“Don't be coy. They weren't exactly being truly helpful. Also, no one here is as,” You gestured to him with both hands. “Vertically gifted as you.” 

He laughed at this and you got another flash of his pearly whites. “That so?”

“I only speak the truth.”

“That I see.”

“So will you?”

“Will I what?”

You scoffed with a scandalized look, gesturing to the album. “Help a damsel in distress?” 

He gave a playful hum and put his hands in his jean pockets, leaning forward a bit in his brown jumper that laid over a mustard yellow button up. “I'm not really the princely type, princess.” He teased and you slowly smirked. “I'm more in line with the monster.” 

“Well, kind monster, would you do your princess the kindness of grabbing her this single?” You hummed and he laughed. “My princess?”

“If you behave.” 

He looked you up and down before he walked over and grabbed the record, looking it over and holding it just out of reach as you tried to snatch it away. “What if I don't?”

You huffed and gave up on trying to swipe it, crossing your arms and biting your cheek. “That's not a very gentlemanly thing to do.”

“I'm not a very gentlemanly person.” He gave you a look that had the alarm bells in your head sounding, but you bit your lip and nodded. “Fine then. What would you like in return, hm?”

“Your name.”

“My name?” You huffed and smiled once more. He nodded with a serious look, but a smile tugged at his lips.

“{Y/N}.” You introduced and held your hand out. “You don't need my last name. You'll never have to call me it.” You remarked and his eyebrows raised in delight. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You mused as he handed you the record. 

“And your name?”

“Remus. Guess I'll skip the last name too. But please, call me Moony.” He remarked and you nodded. 

“Until next time, Moony.”

“Next time, {Y/N}.”

The summer was absolute bliss. You spent it doing all the things your father hated about muggles. Running in fields and jumping in stray bodies of water, going to parties and drinking until you were sick. You kissed muggle boys, went to underground concerts, and even took enchanted pictures for yourself to keep.

Though, you didn't see that record store boy for the rest of the summer. Not from lack of trying, however, going to the store twice a week to try and snag a glimpse of him. Eventually you gave up and went back to your friends.

The next summer, you did see him again. This time, it was a month in, you were out late at a party, and were waiting for the bus to take you to the flat you had bought under a fake muggle name. Well, you say you bought, in reality you had been taking portions of money from your father and pureblood families that wanted your favor, from the start of the school year, saving up enough to be the spoiled girl you were. 

You were standing under a street lamp, leaning against it as you pulled out a packet of cigarettes. You put it to your lips, just as you did, a voice called over to you. “Need a light?”

You turned to face the boy who seemed to sneak up on you in alarm, before you slowly lit up at the sight of him. He seemed puzzled by your expression before recognition covered his features. “Record store princess.”

“Record store monster.” You cheeked and he walked over, leaning down to cover the end of your smoke from the wind, lighting it with a simple flick. You didn't even think about how you didn't hear the usual metallic click of a lighter, instead, a snap. That was how you lit them anyway. 

“Where have you been, pretty boy?” You asked after a long drag, and he watched you breathe the smoke out of your lungs, eyes lingering on your lips. This made you curl them to give him a better view. “Around.”

“Something caught your eye?”

“Someone.” He muttered and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, glancing at the bus station. “I'm heading home, to my flat. Care to make sure your princess gets home safe?” 

He chuckled at the bold offer, rubbing the back of his neck and wetting his lips. There was a pause as he thought about it. “... lead the way.”

That summer was somehow even better than the previous. He spent the night with you, that night, then every single other night. He came and never dreamed of leaving, only gone a handful of days for a few hours at a time for his summer job.

There was this amazing peace, waking up, laying in your stomach, hugging your pillows in your plush massive mess of blankets and pillows, with him. Most of the boys you brought back would be gone in the morning, you preferred it that way, but when you woke up to his arm around your bare back and his nose in the nape of your bruised and bite ridden neck, you couldn't dream of another outcome.

He joked, the second he saw the large canopy bed, about you letting monsters into your private quarters. He seemed to not think so highly of himself, but with every part of your skin he discovered, with every touch and sound he drew from you, he seemed to grow more confident in your situationship. It was dangerous, you knew it, this muggle boy had you wrapped around his finger. Judging by the way he looked at you when you would fall into the clouds of euphoria, he met the same fate.

You had never felt so content, going out and partying, coming home before he did, and spending your nights and afternoons together. With the odd exceptions of a few days out of the months, he was glued to you. Your friends teased you, but for once, you couldn't find it in yourself to be embarrassed. When school came, you had never felt so crushed. You spent the day before lingering in each other's presence without a word. The silence was enough. 

When he brought you to bed, and your skin was pressed to his, his nose to your temple as he whispered sweet words of encouragement and pure infatuation, you were wreathing and gasping in short spouts, you muttered something that drew his rough movements to a stop. You hadn't even realized it, and he noticed how your eyes squished together and you whined with a huff. Fluttering open your eyes, staring up at his knee weakening hazels. He stared at you in silence and you slowly moved to sit up. It clicked to him, you hadn't even realized what you said. You'd never know that those three little words utterly destroyed him. Knowing that tomorrow he would be away from you again. He knew it would be hell.

He huffed and slowly pulled back. He began slowly, taking you in as if he was trying to commit you to memory. Every curve and blemish, every bit of scarred flesh he devoured with an open mouth kiss. You were lost once more to your own ecstasy. 

He wanted to say it back so horribly. 

He wanted you to know he loved you too.

~~~

You spent all of your sixth year waiting for summer, but when it came you dreaded it. Your father told you that you were to move back to London and resume your normal life in preparation for finding you a suitor.

He had promised your mother that he would wait until you were at least 20 to start, but her passing this year it seems he changed his mind. So you returned to business as usual, being enrolled in Hogwarts for your last year of schooling, and being undertaken by the Black’s matriarch, Walaburga, to learn how to be a pureblood witch worth marrying.

Every day she would come to the Gaunt manor, quiz and train you on behaviors and etiquette. You hated those meetings, she was needlessly cruel and fake nice, to the point it was painful for you to watch her try and flatter and build your fathers ego. It made you sick. Soon, but not soon enough, the summer was over and at least you would be at Hogwarts and away from that sour faced woman.

~~

Remus had gone to your flat that summer, he stayed there for a week before he realized you weren't coming home. He hated it. He hated how you didn't tell him where you were, where you were going. There was this silent agreement between the both of you, You never told him where you would be and he never asked, Never exchanged much about your current personal lives, just the past. So if someone was to ask him where you were, he wouldn't have a clue.  You promised him you'd see each other next summer, and that was enough. 

At first his bitterness was winning, he wanted to believe you left without a word because you wanted nothing more than what you were that summer. Deep down, however, he knew. He knew by the way you looked at him in the morning, how you would pull him into the middle of the room in your socks and his shirt, like it was a dress on you, twirling around and slow dancing to that record he got you the first time you met. You always got what you wanted, and Remus knew he was what you wanted. When he left, he set a paper folded up between the door and the wall, a simple but desperate note. He needed you.

So when he got back to Hogwarts, he was a wreck. His friends noticed immediately. When he sat on the train, and looked out the window instead of shoving his nose in a book or teasing the others together.

“Moony, you good man?” James spoke up first after the three shared awkward looks. 

“Yeah dude, you look like a kicked puppy. Or James when Lily isn't looking at him.” Sirius tried to joke, looking through his suitcase before he paused and his eyes widened.

Remus was suddenly filled with dread. “Don't-”

“Let me guess, the cool girl you met last summer didn't show up this time? Told you, muggle girls her age are crazy.” Sirius laughed, not looking up, only to get jabbed harshly in his side with James’ elbow. Sirius hissed and held his side, looking at James with a glare before James flicked his eyes to Remus.

Sirius looked over and saw just how broken up Remus seemed to be about it. He sighed and gave him a pained sympathetic look. Watching as Peter took out a chocolate bar and handed it over to Remus. He muttered a thank you and took it. Sirius sighed and shook his head. “Look, I'm sorry dude. I don't mean it.”

“It's fine.” Remus answered quickly. “I was surprised she even gave me the time of day. I guess I always have that summer. I'll be over it in time, I'm sure she isn't missing me as much, as I'm moping over her, maybe that will help me get over it.”

He tried to believe that. He really did. His words were coming out low, he tried to sound wise but he truly sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. She was all he could think about. From the train, to the carriages, to the Great Hall. Lily saw him and gave him a pout, he had written to her over the summer about what had happened. He wanted her perspective about what had happened, where he could have gone wrong, and out of the thirty he sent her she responded in kind to all of them. She walked up to him, straight past James which left the tall boy to theatrics. 

“Sirius did she just-” James gasped and clenched his chest.

“She did, James, she did.” Sirius walked up behind him with a smirk.

“Does she love me anymore?” He turned to Sirius and the shorter boy snickered.

“I don't think so, Jamie. I'll always love you, though.” Sirius indulged his theatrics and caught James (totally not with a struggle, totally smooth, Sirius is very strong) and James gasped. “You will, won't you, pads?”

“Always, my love.” Sirius declared his affections and James fanned his face like a swooning Victorian debutante. Lily rolled her eyes so hard she swore they would fall from her face. 

She turned back to Remus who gave her a painful smile. “I left her a note like you suggested.”

“Anything?”

“Nothing.” Remus sighed and she nodded carefully. 

“I'm sure there is more to it, Remus. Don't let it consume you.” Lily tried to reassure him and he sighed again, making James and Sirius catch up as they sat down. 

“Yeah, there are a million girls in the world!” Sirius tried to cheer him up and both Lily and James winced at that.

“None of them are like her.” Remus sighed and Sirius gave an owl-like look and then gave a breath of shock. “... Damn Remus, that much, huh?”

He groaned and hit his head on the table. “I just want to sleep.”

“We could always ditch the sorting ceremony.” Lily tried to nudge him, he seemed to smile at her a bit at the offer. 

“Yeah, but then you'll miss a seventh year being sorted.” Peter piped up and the four of them snapped over to look at him. 

“What? Seventh?” She asked as she looked up at the kids in front of the hall, before she bit her tongue. “Right.. that Gaunt girl every Slytherin is losing their mind over?” 

Sirius choked on his pumpkin juice before he quickly cleared his throat as James patted his back. “Woah mate!”

“Her! My mom was tutoring her all summer. Regulus told me. That girl, trying to be the perfect bride or some shit? Just another spoiled pureblood.” Sirius huffed and Lily gave a faint nod. “I hate to agree, but apparently she's the worst.”

“Of course, she's the Slytherin heir.” Sirius huffed. “Apparently she went to Dumstrung, and you know how awful they are.”

“Ah.” Lily mumbled and her eyes landed on you past the crowd, nudging Remus. “There she is. Oh Merlin, spoiled and pretty? Dangerous combination.”

Remus sighed and looked over as you sat on the chair. His entire body froze. “Ahh! {Y/N} Gaunt! Slytherin!” 

The hat didn't hesitate. You had a calm blank expression you were tutored on all summer. Looking across the students, almost bored. You stood up and dusted off your robes, before you froze up at the sound of your name being shouted across the hall.

Remus didn't think. He saw you and shot up from his seat. Lily looked at him, startled, looking between the two before her eyes widened at the name. Oh Merlin. 

Sirius was bewildered, James was stunned, and Peter hid his face away from the crowds of students who turned to look at Remus. He got a variety of different looks from everyone, but there was a running theme. Who do you think you are? Talking to Gaunt.

“{Y/N}.” He called again, firmer. You looked like a deer in headlights. Staring at him in a stunned silence before one of the girls you met on the train tugged at your sleeve. You glanced at her and by the time you looked back, Remus was rushing across the hall to you. No no no no no.

“Fuck.” You hissed and snatched your sleeve from her. You watched as he closed in on you. You felt every hair on your neck stand up. “Fuck fuck.” You whispered.

You panicked. And you ran. He was stunned and froze on the spot. You ran straight out of the hall. Remus cursed and turned to his friends, then to the professors. Lily tried to stand and bring him back to sit down, but as if he was a wild animal, the movement gave him a rush of adrenaline. What did he do? What did this absolute stupid and love sick fool do? 

He ran after you. The entire hall was silent, even the professors stunned before his head of house yelled at him to sit down. He ignored them, turning the corner out of the hall and dashing down the hall he saw you run down.

The hall was quiet for a moment or two, before Lily spoke up. “I'll make it up to you, Professors!” She shouted back before she ran after the two. 

“Me too!” James shouted and followed after her. 

“I will not!” Sirius laughed and ran after them, Peter looking at the shouting professor before she made eye contact with him. Peter slowly sat up and she gave him a warning glance, before he quickly scrambled after his friends. 

McGonagall could only sigh as Dumbledore stifled a laugh into his sleeve.

[meo-on-prairie]

Deserve Better

Prompt: After a shitty breakup, involving a douchebag of an ex, who makes you realize he never loved you to begin with. You went to your best friends for comfort, but instead of telling you “you deserve better”, they show you the best you deserve. 

Word count: 1786

Tags: FLUFF, a tablespoon of Angst, hurt and comfort, Gojo and Getou being sweetest boys, satosugu established, satorugu x reader not yet, mention of: manipulation and love bombing.

Rambling: This is an extremely self-indulgence fic, heavily inspired by my shitty ex lmao. I just wanna be sandwich between Gojo and Getou to comfort my angry heart :((. This is a mini series, I wanna able to make this series to be compose of a bunch of stand-alone fics that merge together. This is my first time writing after a long while so… 

//////

“He was a pathetic liar!” you shout as soon as Suguru opens the door. Tears are streaming down your faces and you can’t seem to make them stop. The sight of your face full of anger and sorrow quite nearly broke Suguru’s heart. Oh, how he wished he could erase your pain. Not make your pain go away, no, he wanted to erase it from your life completely.

Satoru walks toward the door after hearing the loud commotion, “what did he do this time?” he said knowing exactly who was responsible for your tears. With all honesty, Satoru is only asking for your sake, if he could have it his way, violence is always the answer.

Satoru and Suguru are used to this, it’s been 2 years of this clockwork. Ever Since you start dating your pathetic boyfriend, Anthon, it been a cycle of you venting to them about your relationship problem, them telling you to break up with the fucker, and you “work it out” with the douchebag, who can only tell lies and empty promises, the next day and all is good for about 1 month. It’s the same cycle of them clearly seeing that you are being manipulated, yet unable to do anything. But then again, what can they do? They’re only your friends, nothing more even if they want to be more, and as friends, the only thing they can do is be there for you.

Anthon was your first love, your glasses were not tinted, it was dyed rose-pink. You loved him with everything you got, always there to support him mentally, emotionally, and even sometimes financially. In return, he would love-bomb you with constant, nonstop, overly cheesy affectionate words. He also made a lot of promises to you: of marriage, of spoiling you, of being a better man for you, of being faithful to you; all of which are empty and meaningless in hindsight. They’re so meaningless in fact that it led you to break-up with him 2 weeks ago.

You were tired of his empty words, so you laid down your boundary, you told him you would never want to marry someone who refuses to find a job to support themselves. His answer? “Why can’t you be nicer about these things? Your words cut deep”. Anthon was a man of nothing, he had nothing but his words, and even then he couldn't even keep them. But you loved him, so you put it all aside, all his actions, all his shortcomings, his unwillingness to change for himself; you put it all aside and waited with baited breath, surely, surely…. Surely he’ll do as he said. He never did. 

“Come in first, the night is cold, I don’t want you to get sick” Suguru ushers you through the door and into their apartment. As Suguru guided you toward their living room, Satoru went into the kitchen to grab some tissues, water, and something for you to eat your feelings away. 

As soon as your body touched the soft velvet material of their couch, you crumbled into Suguru’s arms. He pulls you in closer to his body as yours shakes and heaves, you two sit like that for what feels like an eternity as you let the tears that carry your pain and sorrows fall from your eyes. Your hands balls up Suguru’s shirt as you cry in his embrace, you try to control your sob but it only makes your body shakes harder, almost hyperventilating.

“Shhhh, take your time, let it out. I’m here… we’re here… we’re not goin’ anywhere”

“He said he loves me! He said he wanted to marry me! And not even 2 weeks after our breakup, he’s getting his dick wet and telling another girl he loves her!” you choked out in anguish, still in denial that any of this is real.

“How did you find out about that?” Satoru asked, carrying a tray full of food; after hearing your sobs, he decided that a few snacks wasn’t going to cut it. 

“Because the fucker doesn’t even have the decency to keep it private, he been posting her all over his social media!” you swipe out your phone in frustration, pulling up Anthon’s account to show your two best friends the picture of your ex and the girl sitting on his lap, kissing. 

They both make a face when you show them the picture, “gross” they said in unison as Satoru places the tray on the table and sits down on your other side.

“I’m just so angry, I can’t believe I wasted 2 years loving someone who never was truthful to me! How can I be so stupid?” your tears are boiling hot, they feel like acid on your skin.

“Hey, hey, look at me, you’re not stupid for simply loving someone.” Satoru cups your face with his hands, nudging you to face him, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. You close your eyes and feel the warmth of his hands. It’s comforting to be held so gently.

“That’s right, don’t shame yourself for being strong enough to love someone with all you got. That’s a strength, not a weakness.” Suguru agrees, pulling a couple of tissues from the box and handing it to you. 

You take the tissues from him to wipe away the tears and blow your nose, it was getting a little hard to breathe from crying, “Thank you… It just hurt realizing that even though I loved him, he never loved me; at least, I don’t think someone who loves me would go out of their way to hurt me like this. Him posting her and rubbing it in my face not even 2 weeks later makes me feel like… I just wasn't worth loving…”

“You’re right, someone that loves you wouldn’t hurt you like he did. But that doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. To us, you’re worth all the love this world has to offer…” Suguru whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder, and he means it. God, does he mean it. Satoru can see it in his partner’s eyes, the same feelings he has.

Satoru and Suguru have loved each other deeply since they were kids, but they always feel something is missing in their relationship. When you walt into their life when they were 15 through the door call “physic group project”, they thought something was wrong with them. They still very clearly love each other, their love is still burning, but their hearts forget how to beat when you smile at them.

How can they not fall for you? You’re kind, so kind you would push aside your shyness and discomfort to help those that need it. You’re intelligent, you quite literally carried them through that physics group project. And dear god, the way you just fit perfectly into their dynamic makes them realize very quickly that they desperately want you to be a part of their life. So desperately, they couldn’t bring themselves to tell you about their feelings in fear of scaring you away from them forever.

“Tell you what? Let’s watch some true crime documentary that you like so much since you’re secretly a sociopath, maybe they’ll give you the inspiration of what to do for revenge?” Satoru said with a smirk.

“If inspiration striked you, we’ll be your executioners.” Suguru added, smiling in relief seeing that you're feeling better after letting it all out. You let out a small giggle and nod. 

Satoru turns on the TV and searches for “Unsolved” while Suguru goes to grab the three of you a blanket. When Suguru comes back with the blanket, you get comfortable cuddling between the two of them on the couch. Between Satoru’s jokes about how if he was the detective case wouldn’t have gone cold, and Suguru’s soft chuckles of ‘sure babe’ at his boyfriend’s comment,you start to feel a lot better. 

You have always felt the most at home with them. It felt natural to be with them, Satoru’s humor brings laughter into your day, Suguru’s gentleness makes you feel safe. They ground you. You’re starting to wonder why you were even with the dirtbag when you have best friends who show you how you should be treated. But before you can think more on that, drowsiness takes over you.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. With how hard you were crying and the emotional turmoil you experienced, it would be more surprising if you stayed awake. Satoru looks over to the sight of your sleeping face. He squeezed Suguru’s hand he been holding behind you on the headrest of the couch.

Suguru looks over at Satoru and notices where his gaze was directed at. “I don’t want to see her like that again. She deserves all the sunshines life has got to offer, not heartbreak” Satoru whispered softly. 

“Do… you think⸻” Suguru started

“Yeah.” 

It’s a silent agreement between them. They’re done with watching you on the sideline. They’re done with seeing you in pain. They don’t want to be afraid of losing you anymore if it means they have to leave your happiness in the hands of some other dudes that’s not them. In the hands of someone that doesn’t know how to cherish it like they do. 

Suguru gives Satoru’s hand 3 long squeezes, I love you. A soft and silent affection flows between them. You always joke that they’re each other's twin flames due to how they seem to be sharing the same soul; their ideology, way of thinking, even how they feel. They’re so similar despite different personalities it’s uncanny. But they think that if they’re each other’s twin flame, then you would be their soulmate. 

They let go of each other's hands so Satoru can carry you into their guest’s room. Well, they call it that but the color and decorations they have in it are all catered to your liking, plus no one beside you ever stays the night anyway. 

Suguru opens the door to the room for Satoru. They laid you down and tucked you in. 

Suguru went into the bathroom to get a damp face towel. He softly wipes away your streaks of tears so you can sleep comfortably without feeling the stickiness from your tears. 

They closed the door as quietly as possible so they don’t wake you, not before glancing at you one last time. 

Looking at each other, eyes full of love and determination, they silently vow to each other. They’re going to make you fall, sweep you right off your feet. They’ll treat you like you’re their most prized treasure. You’ll fall for them so hard, you’ll forget you’ve ever loved anyone but them.

[pedge-page]

Joel dealing with Preggo Wife # 7: House Pet

Can be read with others in series or standalone

Warnings: unprotected sex, slight Daddy kink, suggestive of oral M receiving, annoying reader and annoyed Joel

18 + ONLY

- - - -

You watch one depressing commercial of shivering dogs left emaciated in the cold begging for love and care, and all the water in your entire body comes flooding out in tears.

“J-j-j"—snUFFF—“JOeeeOEeeeoelllLLLL!!!" You wail, wiping your snot on his shirt sleeve while curled up against him. “THEY NWEEEDDD MWEEEEE!!!!”

“You wanna donate?”

N-d—nooo--“sniffle—“wanna -wa-wanna aa-ad-ad-opt—“

He chuckles like its some obvious joke, but when he sees the absolute shine in your giant eyes staring pleadingly at him, he puts his foot down as gently as possible: “Honey, we can’t have a dog right now. With you—being like this, and a baby on the way, I’ve got enough on my plate as is. Wanna make sure you and babygirl are well taken care of first, okay?”

There’s a tense silence hanging in the air as you seize a breath in your throat. 

And then you’re LOSING IT, whining and crying like a child into his face.

“Jesus,” he mumbles softly, gently stroking your hair, hushing little shhhhh into your forehead and rocking you in his arms like a baby in a cradle— a giant baby stuffed with another baby currently rattling the emotions of the big baby.

 He's given you a cup of water for bed and tucking you in, picking up the litany of tissues tossed around you, while you refuse to quit your puffy eye’d and endless barrage of tears. 

By the next morning, swollen lids yet calm, he thought he’d heard the last of it last night. And you were doing much better mood wise—no cries, though a little cold shoulder to him. He gives you a few hours till you’re over it and asking for ice cream like nothing happened. 

Until now, five days later where every minute is just a retort to his face about getting a dog.

When you best friend comes over to give you extra baby clothes:

"Aww your girl named her puppy Winston? That's so adorable! Joel, ya hear that??” You peak loudly so he can hear from the kitchen. “Too bad I don’t have a puppy named Winston.”

"When you have our daughter, she can get a puppy named Winston"

"Oh! Already picking her over me for getting a dog?"

He rolls his eyes, tuning out to focus on making you biscuits that are too salty so you’ll have something else to whine about.

-

During movie night:

“…If only I had a dog to help keep my feet warm on the couch.”

He shovels a fist full of popcorn into his tilted back, wide mouth. “‘At’s what a blanket’s for.” he yanks your favorite soft one over your toes and keeps his eyes on the TV.

-

To the neighbor that just fucking moved in two weeks ago:

"Joel doesn't kiss me enough. If I had a dog, I wouldn't complain as much since the pup would love me unconditionally."

He grits his teeth, excusing himself to the bathroom.

-

At Tommy’s place for a Sunday BBQ:

“Bought the wood second hand—I re constructed our living room myself,” he says braggingly, drawing a beer from the cooler.

"Yeah, Tommy, it’s real nice.” You charm, and you can already see Joel's fist clench at his side. “Would look even better with a dog in the window."

-

“Wish I had a fluffy dog to cuddle instead of your big ass."

-

"My husband spoils me so much. He usually gets me anything I want without asking! Unless it's a dog ..."

-

Joel finishing adding furniture to the baby room.

"You know what else this room could use?” 

"A dog bed, a dog blanket, a dog.”

-

"If you say-one more-god damn thing-about the dog..." he huffs.

"What dog? We don't even have a dog."

"We don't-need one. Got a cat in the house already."

He thrusts in again with a grunt, your trail of thought disappearing for a second just as Joel’s fat cock penetrates you.

 The two of you are lying sideways on the bed, his chest pressed flush against your back. With your leg just barely propped up with his masculine arm hooked under your knee, a hand splayed protectively over your big belly, he has enough room to slot his length into your achy sopping cunt, slowly fucking you with harsh little jolts. You grip the back of his neck, fingers clutched in his sweaty locks, feeling his hot breath dampening your collar. 

He lets out a pained hiss. “This lil pussy right here is all the animal I can handle now. Now quit it.”

His hips begin to crash lightly over your ass, rutting his tip deeper into you with muffled slaps. He loves the sight of your now largely grown thighs jiggling with each impact. Loves the feeling of your swollen breasts suffocating his other hand. Loves the knowledge of his wife so stuffed full of him for everyone to see. 

You moan lightly, clenching around him at the leisure, unhurried yet pent up pleasure coursing through you. But your mind wonders again. “If you don't want a rescue we can get a certain breed: How about a malnoise? Or something smaller like a corgi? Or aussie. Oh Pitties are so cute!"

He rolls his eyes, nose buried in your hair. How are you even able to have a coherent conversation right now while he's rearranging your guts? Rather than hushing you with another quit it, he decides to entertain you. "Jesus woman. Ain't pitties all mean?"

"Nooooo —mmm baby, right there—“ you whine, panting in sync as you lowly try to hump him back. “Protective, intimidating looking.” You smile, mouth agape and eyes closed when he hits that sweet spot deep inside.  “Just—like you, big ol sweethearts…Who give their wives exactly what they fucking want—like a dog."

“Christ.” The hand from under your leg glides over your wet clit, his rough digits rubbing fast circles while his other free arm  unfolds from under your throat to grip it lightly. His knees bend so he can rock just his hips with ferocious power, railing with the intent to fuck you so dumb, you can’t help but shut up. “One more peep and I'm switching us up and gonna fuck you like one.”

You really didn’t want to —resorting to this lounging position because your back hurt too much to be fucked doggy, and the baby weighed too heavily to ride him. Thank God his cock was fucking huge—it could reach deep into you at any position. No fucking wonder you got pregnant so easily. 

“no- no Daddy, I'll be good," you hum. "Unfff—mmm-yeah—yeah! Fuuuck—fuck me baby that’s it!” You shout. Joel’s hand works endlessly on your little nub, now at the mercy of his ministrations to get you off since you can’t reach yourself anymore. You grip your belly and cry, walls convulsing around his meat with a much needed orgasm. Joel follows suit not too long after, biting your shoulder as his hips still against your ass, pumping you full of his pearly cum.

The two of you stay in the same position, breathing heavily as you come down from your respective highs. 

His eyes close, breath slowing and getting deeper in relaxation as his fingers lightly dance over your swole bump.

You feel the gentle cooling breeze of the fan spinning above you. Sighing contently now filled with your husband’s love and caressed with his tender hands. 

 “…So I was thinking, when we get a dog..."

"WE ARE NOT GETTIN’ A DOG AND THAT’S FINAL."

-

Tommy comes over and can tell something is up between you two.  When Joel leaves the room, he asks "so what is it this week with Joel?"

"He won't get me--what do you mean THIS week??"

"Nothing nothing, he won't get you a what?"

"A dog. I want a dog. He doesn’t want a dog. So I don’t understand why he can’t compromise and get a dog.”

He laughs. “Honey, cuz that’s not a compromise. You know why he won't get you one, right?"

"Cuz he doesn't want to take care of me, a baby, and the dog at the same time"

"Nah. He's worried you'll only want the dog’s affection, and the baby gets the rest of your attention. Then you won’t have anything left for him.”

“…Oh!"

-

Later that night, Joel is still steaming from your earlier conversation after sex, having no regard for listening to another thing you had to say the rest of the day. You waddle into the bedroom, looking apologetic as possible with your hands held behind your back. He only looks up from the bed to see you: in his large T shirt with nothing else, freshly lavender scented from your bath, and big pleading child-like eyes full of sorrow. He purses his lips before returning to his book, glasses perched on his nose.

You approach Joel with an apology gift that you hid behind your back: a stuffed wolf.

He smiles gently unable to even pretend to hold his temper against you. you kiss the tip of his nose as he caresses your smoothed bump. “You're my favorite dog anyway,” you say warmly. “Needy. Grumpy. Likes food. Gives me kisses."

“Thought I didn’t give ya enough kisses? Least that’s what you told neighbor.”

“That was—a lie.” You bat your eyes cutely. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Mmmm,” is all he says, his eyes raking over your curves just barely covered now due to your size. “I don’t know, Daddy might need more apologies — ya did treat me real bad this week.”

You hum sadly, nuzzling yourself against his chest. your hand trails down his firm middle, all the way to the growing tent sticking up from his boxers.

“I can lick it better,” you whisper seductively in his ear, nipping at his pulse point.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

And after one of your famous deep throated blow job with Joel's balls happily emptied in your already full belly, he leans over to his side table and pulls the drawer open, holding something tight in his hand.

You just barely stop yourself from falling asleep with your head on his lap when he dangles a dog collar above your head. You sit up, inspecting it with grubbing hands: it has your home address etched on to the metal plate, but no name on it. 

“What you want me to be your dog? I’ll wear the collar but I’m not getting on my knees, nor crawling around and drinking from dog bowls  and shitting in the yard—“

“No angel,” he shushes you. Although the image of you wearing the collar, naked and heavily pregnant on your knees in front of him wasn’t a bad idea at all…he shakes his head from the delusion. ”Aint for you. Thought about it—but ONLY after have the baby and are settled, and ya know IF —and that’s a mighty big if—we find one that’s not too rough shape, got a good sense about ‘im, then MAYBE I’ll consider it.”

"Oh my god! Thank you! Thankyouthankyou--"

"I said IF sweetheart. Got along road ahead till then."

"I'll give you as many blow jobs as you want."

"You already do that for yourself."

"Yeah but... how about I sit on your face? Fully?"

His ears perk up. "Yeah?"

"After the baby is born," you quip, smirking with more confidence then your swollen body can muster trying to wiggle away from his grasp like a devious chubby oompa lumpa. He just laughs to himself as you slip down the bed, and the sudden urge to pee has you B-lining to the bathroom.

- - - -

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[waywardcrow]

I’d do bad things with you.

Summary: The day after the wedding, Bucky and his new wife go to Stark's house to plan their next step because that's why they are married, right? Not because they love each other.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.

TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, implications of mafia kind of stuff but please remember all I know about this I learned from SoC and fics lol, allutions to death, mention of cheating and sex, lots of angst, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Part of the Yours to lose series.

All eyes on us <<<

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Bucky didn’t dare to say anything when his wife closed the door of the guest room, how could he? His dragă asked for one thing: help to protect her family.

That didn’t mean she owned him something, she was his wife but not his woman, not anymore.

If only he wasn’t so impulsive, if he weren’t so blind to recognize what he had in front on him, they wouldn’t be in this situation, their wedding wouldn’t be an arrangement, he would had ask her to marry him instead of trapping her.

Still, he had hopes, he would never give up in getting her back, and when Bucky finally did it, he would make up for the lost time.

Alone in her room, Bells felt the Barnes’ family ring heavy in her hand, not only for the rose diamond, it was heavy because she didn’t deserve it. She was well aware she only had it because she ended up being a Stark, there was no way this could ever happen to her being the mistress on turn for the Winter Soldier.

And even knowing it, she missed those times.

Everyone that worked in the restaurant knew she was sleeping with him, they also knew it was better for their tongues that she never heard them talk about it, Bucky made an example of the first and only one who tried, a jackass named Julian who liked to make women uncomfortable.

After that, everyone turned a blind eye when Bucky when to the bar and talk to her for hours, when he called her to his office and she used disappeared in there to don't go back to work for the whole shift, they saw them going home at night, both being walking proof of the affair.

Her friends sometimes looked at Bells with concern; especially Kate but no one said a thing.

She would get in the car with Bucky who would try to convince her to stop working so he could spoil her and Bells would gave him the same answer, she only wanted him, not his money.

It was so stupid of her, to believe he could feel the same one day but how could she not think it when he played his part so well? Treating him like she was something delicate, something beautiful, she wanted to believe he could want her, love her.

That was why she spent most of the nights with him during the months her fantasy ran wild, she was even familiar with his men, Steve and Sam adored her, Scott, Thor and Clint were sweet with her, even the stoic Loki smiled sometimes at her jokes.

Bucky made her feel at home, she had free reign in the house except for his office and they found their routine very quickly.

Even in the nights Bucky couldn’t join her right after work, he would find her sometimes eating alone in the kitchen or taking a shower and he would made up to her, he was so tender with Bells, making her feel everything was right, maybe it was because she never had a real home and she craved it that she was so easy to fool.

After taking the dress off her and removing her make-up, the girl curled in bed, refusing to cry again for him.

“Good morning, dragă, I made breakfast” was the first thing Bucky told his wife in the morning. His wife, he would never get tired of saying it even if it was only in his head.

She looked beyond beautiful, the ivory set of pants and jacket hug her curves and he was loving the cleavage cut he could see from his place in the counter. His wife looked like what she was, a Queen.

“Don’t call me that, James” hearing his name on her lips hurt but he deserved it, at least she didn’t call him by his last name.

Their last name.

“Does my lady prefer any other nickname?” he asked without stop smiling, serving her coffee like he knew she liked it.

“I have a name, stick to it”

Her name was beautiful, both of them, the one her parents gave her and the one he met her with but she was the woman he loved, dragă was really appropiate.

“You used to love when I called you that, I don’t think I should change it if we want this marriage to be believable” he shrugged, knowing well why his wife didn’t like it anymore.

“We made a deal, Barnes” oh, James was gone “you will not make anyone believe this after we deal with our enemies”

She really did believe he would give up on her, which almost made him smile. His dragă still had to learn a few things about him.

“You should eat, Mrs. Barnes, we have to be at your brother’s house in half an hour”

Bucky was the least happy about working with Tony Stark, he supposed they could have been friends in another circumstances but he hurt his sister, if Natasha would ever did the same to Becca, Bucky would never forgive her.

Thor drove them to Stark’s mansion and Bucky hated how at ease his wife was there, that wasn’t her home, not anymore.

Russo and Castle were waiting besides Stark who hugged his wife and kissed her cheeks, taking her away from Bucky, leaving him scowling beside Steve and Sam.

“You look like you drank your weight in alcohol, Billy” she giggled and Bucky’s heartache increased, when was the last time he made her laugh? He couldn’t remember.

“Are you trying to tell me something, topolina?” Russo inquired with an offended look while they walked to Stark’s office.

“Yes, she means you look like shit Bill” Castle answered before his wife could and they all laughed but Russo and Bucky, Sam and Steve were too busy talking with Thor to notice. He watched as they took her inside the house bringing back her sweet personality, all the love she felt for them that made him mad watching the “proof” of her betrayal slapping him in the face once again.

Maybe Hydra staged all that but it was his fault, his own insecurities and ghosts were what made her hate him and he couldn’t see the way out of the mess he created, not when the scars that piece of shit gave her in his murder attempt were visible every time Bucky could see her arms.

“Are you ok Buck?” Sam asked quietly, his gaze following Bucky’s, his dragă was smiling at Pepper and Tony, touching her sister in law’s bump. He might never get that with her and if it wasn’t with her- Bucky knew it now, if it wasn’t her, it was no one.

“I’m fine, let’s go”

Pierce had endless resources, deals with powerful people, enough money to buy himself a kingdom, lots of people who would kill for him without hesitation but with all that, he had an Aquiles heel.

“We know he feels like he already won the reelection for Mayor but I’m not so sure” Bells projected a picture of a handsome man with dark hair. He had a kind smile and even the red sunglasses didn’t disminished his likable aura “Matthew Michael Murdock was born and raised in Hell’s kitchen, he graduated Columbia with honors with his best friend, Franklin Nelson, the current District Attorney and he was a champion of the people as a lawyer in his neighborhood despite he had multiple chances to work for a big firm, all of that changed when his soon to be wife, Karen Page, got in the way of Wilson Fisk”

Billy raised his hand as if he was in a classroom.

“Why does this sound like someone talking about their crush and how this helps us?” next to him, Maria hit him in the head and he yelped “I’m just saying!”

“She has a point, you would know it if you let Bells finish” his sister smiled at her friend “please go on topolina.

“Thanks Maria, you’re right as always” Bells winked at her and Maria blow her a kiss “Murdock it’s going to help us beat Pierce in the legal side and meanwhile dear Karen would help us convince him to let us give his campaign a hand” there was a mischievous grin in her face that Bucky had never seen before and it took everything in Bells to look away from him.

Pepper then cleared her throat and Bells took her seat, everyone looking at the ginger.

“Since Fisk got killed in jail, Miss Page got out of witness protection and Mr. Murdock reinforced his fight against the system from the political side” Bells helped her showing reports of Murdock’s popularity, his good press, all the people that supported him “we are going to destroy Pierce taking everything from him. Natasha and Yelena are working with Wanda and Maria to take more territory from him, Madani and Torres keep going after his most powerful lieutenants just like we talked about the last meeting.”

The map in the screen showed the comparison of the before and after, all the east side of the city that once was Pierce’s now it was all theirs, there were still parts resisting the change, it would have been quicker if the group didn’t tried to make the transition the less bloody as possible.

It wasn’t about power, even if it was what their line of work demanded, it was about revenge.

Pierce took something irreplaceable from each one of them, it would be only fair they’d leave him with nothing.

This time Bucky catched Bells eye and refused to let her go.

If not for Pierce, maybe they still would been together but maybe not, Bells was so afraid to tell him the truth about who she really was when Tony found her and it just added to the impending disaster they were, they would been living a lie, she would have been just the mistress, the toy on turn for someone that didn’t loved her.

Bells had to remind herself she didn’t need Bucky, she couldn’t, not after being the target of his cruelness, she couldn’t wash the memory of him fucking Jenna on his desk after telling Bells he loved her hours before.

She knew the truth now, she couldn’t forgive him, not when Bells’ heart was still aching for Bucky’s betrayal, for his lack of faith in her, for his lack of love towards her.

On the other side, Bucky was proud of her, his dragă was born to rule at his side and he didn’t care if he had to hunt Alexander Pierce himself, he would do anything to do this right.

If the murder of his father taught him something, it was that he wouldn’t fix anything feeling sorry for himself, Bucky had all the chances in the world to make amends and he would pay for every mistake with the blood of their enemies.

Tag list: learisa blackhawkfanatic queerqueenlynn calwitch pono-pura-vida

Hiya! This took me so long but it was only because I was stressing myself about it, then I decided to do whatever felt right and here we are! Also the nicknames I used here:

dragă: sweetheart.

topolina: little mouse.

Let me know what you think.

Love, Lily.

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

I don't want to hear thoughts... Unless they're yours.

Chapter 11: Let me help you relax Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader Word count: 2.8k Warning: A lot of fluffy moments and slight teasing. Maybe some anxiety and stress, but nothing heavy. Summary: Wanda wanted to live the normal life she was never afforded, but something was always missing. Something she denied herself and buried deep inside. But watching you move next door, she quickly realizes that this may not be possible for much longer. Especially with all the interesting things she found in your thoughts. Chapter summary: After some stressful days, Wanda wants to help you relax. And what better way than flirting and meditation. Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6; Part 7; Part 8 ; Part 9; Part 10; Part 11; Series materlist                                     Masterlist of all my works

After coming home that Sunday night, Wanda was exhilarated. She had gotten a taste of you, all willing and ready for her. Your cute little moans, the needy way you scratched at her back, the way you pulled her closer, your sweet taste, the pliable, easy way in which you accepted her dominance… It was all perfect. But as the days of the week started to pass by, Wanda found herself regretting that she didn’t secure that date with you when she had the chance. Every day the two of you saw each-other, shared small conversations and sweet little moments, you talked about your days and about your plans, she learned more about you, through short afternoon conversations on her porch, where she got to hold your hand, but she couldn’t muster up the courage to ask you out and it seemed that even though you thought about it too, you felt just as nervous. It was only through your thoughts that she found comfort during that time. She was in your mind more and more often, drawn to your ideas. You saw yourself sharing meals with her at night, you sent her recipes you thought she might like, while you were at the office, you imagined cute date ideas for the two of you, that she found simply adorable, making her heart flutter with joy. You were such a romantic soul, a sweet, delicate, sensitive one and as she got lost in your ideas, she couldn’t help but think on all the little dates she wanted to take you on. She just knew that you would melt if she took you to the big bookstore on main street, the one full of Paperblanks notebooks and gorgeous ceramic tea mugs. She would let you roam the shelves, telling her about your favorite books and letting you pick new ones, perhaps even picking a few together and she’d slip in a few notebooks and a nice fountain pen for you, before you reached the cash register. She would spoil you with everything you wanted there, knowing you would probably refuse to let her pay… But she had her ways of convincing you. She’d also love to take you to the lake, just outside of town, the two of you watching the sunset together. She’d kiss you slowly to the sound of the crickets and she’ll hold your hand as you walked. She’d take you to her favorite farmers market, buying you honey and cheeses and a bag of delicious apples, and she’ll invite you over to her house, so the two of you could bake a pie together, while the boys played. She’d take you to her favorite restaurant, of course, treat you to dinner and flirting with you, while she pretended that she didn’t undress you with her eyes. Perhaps she’ll start with that one. She wanted to set the right tone. Show you that she wasn’t just homely. Yes, it was better to start with a night out. But she’ll build up to all the rest as well.

By Wednesday night, after a particularly hard day at the office, the thought of Wanda seemed to be your biggest comfort too. You liked the domestic and kind approach the two of you had with each-other, you liked the afternoons you shared, the little kisses she left on your cheeks, liked making her laugh, even if you were telling the stupidest joke. You liked her casual teasing too, the way her voice would get low, when she flirted with you shamelessly, the lingering touches, the smouldering looks. It was driving you crazy in the best way possible, but even that couldn’t save you from the stress of the day. You were late this morning, having to rush out of your house and even that didn’t help. You couldn’t stop for coffee on your way, having to drink whatever they made in the office, you were swamped with work, you had to make last minute changes to key processes, meaning you’d have to document it all and honestly, it was driving you crazy. And yes, some of it was little things, but in the end, it all piled together. You knew that new projects are like this, you expected it, but this Wednesday it bothered you and you couldn’t shake that thought away when you got home 3 hours after the end of your regulated work hours. You were exhausted, yet you couldn’t switch your brain off and even the thoughts of Wanda couldn’t quite calm you down. You were seated near the pool again, a glass of wine next to you and your fingers frantically typing on your laptop, when a voice pulled you from your thoughts and you looked towards the source to see Wanda standing near your fence, her hands resting on it gently. “Good evening, Y/N.” She smiled gently, tentatively, as if unsure if she should be here. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” She looked away for a second, her voice unusually quiet and small. “Hi Wanda.” You smiled, putting your laptop away and approaching her, your hands landing on top of hers. “Is everything ok?” You asked, concerned. “Yes.” She nodded, even if her answer didn’t seem completely sincere. She had heard your frantic thoughts when you came home, followed them throughout the night as they continued to swirl around in your head, feeling your anxiety and stress as if they were her own, yet unable to pull away from you. She couldn’t just disentangle herself from you and leave you to face your inner turmoil and she couldn’t fight the way it affected her either. It was frightening how intertwined the two of you were, how deeply she felt your emotions, as if they were her own. Perhaps that fear didn’t help the way she felt either.

“Late night working?” She asked, trying to break the tension of the moment. “Yes. I couldn’t stop thinking about work, so I thought it’s best if I just help myself and actually do the work.” You admit. “Does it help?” She asks, already knowing the answer. “No. I’m still stressed. But I’m closer to meeting my deadlines.” You admit with a small, dry chuckle. “Perhaps I can help you relax?” Wanda offers boldly and watches the thought of the double meaning behind her words flash behind your eyes for a moment. “How forward of you, Miss Maximoff!” You joke, knowing very well that it’s not what she meant. “Well, what can I say. I can’t help myself. I see something I want and I just have to go after it.” She jokes back, happy to see some of the tension drain from your shoulders and instantly feeling relieved as well. “No, but honestly, have you ever tried meditating?” She asks, changing the subject. “I have.” You nod. “It never really worked for me, though.” You admit. “Well, perhaps I can teach you.” Wanda offers. “Oh really?” You raise a brow at her. You can’t help but notice that you already feel better, simply because she is here with you. “You have so many hidden skills, I see.” You comment as you walk to the nearby door and open it, so Wanda could enter, a small smile appearing on your lips. “You have no idea.” The older woman teases, walking into your yard. She makes a small pause, looking at you, before she speaks again. “It’s good to see you smiling.” She admits, her voice gentle and soft, just like her features. “Thank you.” Her words make you blush, your smile growing wider. Wanda can’t help but think that it’s one of the most beautiful things in the world. She’s tempted to kiss you right then and there, to sweep you off your feet and carry you into the house, so she can lay you down and kiss you, until your lips are swollen and your head is empty. She supposes that it’s a form of relaxation as well. “Can I offer you something to drink?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from the intensity in her gaze. “Whatever you’re having.” Wanda smiles as she follows you.

                                              *             *             * The two of you sit at the edge of the pool, feet dipped inside the warm water, a couple of glasses filled with wine near you as you talked. Wanda’s presence was enough to anchor you in the present, all your worries melting away, like they never existed. “Thank you for coming over.” You said to her, as you looked into her green eyes. “You always seem to have the best timing.” “I wanted to see you.” Wanda said with a shrug, but her attentive eyes didn’t miss the way you blushed again. “Speaking of which…” She continued. “I also want to ask you out on a proper date.” She tells you, her hand reaching out to take yours, your fingers touching playfully. “Let me take you out to dinner. I know a lovely restaurant in town.” She offers. “Let me spoil you for a night.” She continues, her voice starting to give away her hopeful eagerness. “Let me show you how well I can treat you.” “I’d like that very much.” You nodded, suddenly feeling shy at the woman’s intensity. You’d never met a woman like Wanda before. Someone so sure of themselves, someone who wanted you and wasn’t afraid to show it. “Then I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.” Wanda decided, hiding her smirk behind her glass as she took a small sip of the wine you had poured her. She already made plans in her head, thinking about every small detail about your date tomorrow, delighted that she’ll finally get to have what she had longed for, since you’d moved in.                                           *             *             * After the two of you finished your wine, Wanda could tell that you were feeling the pleasant buzz of alcohol, your thoughts slowing down, your eyes sparkling more, as you looked at her. She could tell that you wanted her, even without reading your thoughts and she did her best not to find out where those particular ideas were taking you, knowing that the temptation would be too great to resist. Instead, she suggested to step away from the pool, taking your hand and guiding you inside the house, so she’d finally give you that lesson on meditation that she had first offered you. You were sceptical at first, but when she sat down on the couch and spread her legs, leaving room for you to sit between them, you couldn’t help but smirk and do as you’re told. You would have to be crazy to refuse her closeness after all.

You felt a little uncomfortable to sit like that with her, but the moment you felt the warmth of her body envelop you, felt her sure hands secure you in place, all your doubts disappeared. “Close your eyes.” Wanda said softly, almost a whisper in your ear, while her hands guided you closer to her, your back pressed against her front. “Just listen to my voice.” The older woman continued, hands landing on your shoulders. “Let it carry you away, to a place where you feel safe and calm.” She said in an even tone. “Can you picture such a place for me?” Wanda asked, watching you nod slowly. Unbeknownst to you, she was slowly making her way into your mind, eyes swirling with red. She helped you to control your thoughts, breathing evening out, while she kept any of them from reaching you, allowing only that safe place to remain in your mind’s eye. “Try to hold that picture in your mind.” She instructed. Wanda could feel the tension of the day melting away, she could feel your muscles relax under her palms, she could see the image of a river, its clear water racing past you, as you lay on a field of grass, surrounded by treas. You were at peace there, she could tell and she amplified that image, making the colours brighter and more vibrant. She allowed the details to develop, until she hardly had to help you anymore, your mind settling in that place of perfect peace. You felt like you were in a dream. Your head was swimming, surrounded by thoughts, but none could reach you. Even the sounds felt distant, your senses dull. It was almost an out of body experience. A deep sense of calm had taken hold of you, the rest of the world melting away. There was only you and that beautiful place. Even Wanda’s voice felt like a far-away echo, your ears unable to distinguish the words she spoke. Once she felt that your mind had calmed, the redhead pulled away her powers as well, choosing to give you some privacy. She didn’t want to take too much advantage of the trust you placed in her, instead deciding to bask in the wonderful feeling of holding you into her arms.

                                          *             *             * You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, the warmth of her body enveloping you and your mind staying in its little paradise. You just know that the image eventually started to fade away, Wanda’s words coming into focus again as she coaxed you back into a more aware state of mind. “How are you feeling?” She asked softly, after she gave you some time to fully come back to your senses. “Really well rested.” You admitted. “Thank you, Wanda.” “Wait till you get some sleep. You’ll wake up feeling even better tomorrow.” Wanda said with a smile, her eyes wandering over your face, a look of genuine affection clearly showing in her eyes. She had allowed you to sit on your own. Barely. But she was still seated close by. She didn’t want to miss this rare chance to look at you, to touch you and admire you, without having to worry about being seen or interrupted. She wanted to soak up your presence as much as she could. “Oh, I can’t wait for the weekend!” You answered slowly, groggily, like a person half-asleep already. “Sleeping in would be just magical.” Wanda only laughed at that statement. You looked so adorable like this. All sleepy and buzzed from the wine and completely boneless after she’d helped you relax. You were too cute for your own good. At another time, in another life, she wouldn’t hesitate to take you like this. You’d cling to her helplessly, whining for her attention, begging wordlessly for her to stop teasing you and just take you. Perhaps a part of her would still find pleasure in that… “Perhaps I should let you go to bed then.” She says instead, disappointment evident in her eyes, that she has to pull away from you. “You don’t have to go straight away…” You said hopefully, not even sure what you were offering the woman. You just knew that you missed the way she had held you earlier, missed her warmth and her gentleness, missed the way she made you feel safe in her arms. “I should though. I want you well rested for tomorrow.” Wanda winked. She studied your face again at her words, amusement flashing across your face at her teasing, before it was replaced with disappointment to see her go. The evidence was in your eyes and she paused for just a moment, before she lunged forward, her lips landing on yours and giving you a brief, small kiss. A warning of sorts, before another, more sensual kiss came. This time you were prepared. Lips parting for her and kissing her fully, allowing yourself to be guided by her, without a moment of hesitation. When you parted, it took everything in Wanda not to lean back and kiss you again. You were so damn tempting to her. So irresistible. From the first day she heard your thoughts, from that day she met you at your front door, she just couldn’t get enough. “If you want me to rest, you shouldn’t tease me, Wanda.” You said playfully, a mischievous smile on your lips. “I can’t help myself.” The redhead admitted. “Are you always such a sweet-talker?” You asked, your hand reaching out to touch hers, fingers playing together softly. “I haven’t said anything that’s not true.” Wanda retorted, leaning so close she could feel your breath on her skin, she could smell your perfume… Without thinking, she kissed you again. This time she pressed her body against you too, she cradled the back of your head and tangled her fingers in your hair. She kissed you deeply, pouring her passion in every brush of her lips against yours. Each time her tongue glided against yours she felt little jolts of pleasure spreading through her, tempting her to do it again and again, until you were both breathless and panting. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days.” Wanda admitted, straightening herself, even if everything inside her told her to stay, to pull you even closer. “And is it everything you pictured?” You asked playfully. “That and so much more…” Wanda smiled, her lips spreading into a grin, before she was leaning into yet another kiss.

[terapsina]

Now that the writers and actors strike is about to begin being felt (and as we wait for those greedy billion dollar companies who are refusing to negotiate fair pay and conditions to give up) here's 10 of my favorite (all around best) fully finished older series you should definitely check out if you haven't watched.

I mean it, these are the shows with continuously great writing and a satisfying endings that manage to actually deliver on their promises.

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1. Leverage - (containing 5 seasons, or 77 episodes) - trailer here.

Hitter, Hacker, Grifter, Thief and Mastermind. Heists and cons. Stealing from the rich and giving to their victims. They provide... leverage.

Meant for anyone who enjoys bad guys being the best good guys, who will burn down the lives of evil CEOs and then gloat in the background. Very satisfying.

Hands down the best example of a found family trope I've ever seen on screen. Barring none.

2. Killjoys - (containing 5 seasons, or 50 episodes) - trailer here.

Space Bounty Hunters. Another case of found family trope. Bisexual space princess assassin. Quippy sentient ship. Green alien goo. Evil lesbians (but like... in a good way). The warrant is all.

More seriously though, it's a story about three killjoys and the bounties they go after. Initially. And then they have to save the entire Quad from some very terrifying... stuff.

Contains one of the best friendships I've ever seen on television.

3. Orphan Black - (containing 5 seasons, or 50 episodes) - trailer here.

Found family trope but with clones.

Low level grifter sees a woman who looks exactly like her kill herself and plans to take over her identity long enough to cash out. Except then there's two other women who also look exactly like her. And apparently they're all clones and someone's killing them.

Enter a global conspiracy. Human experimentation. Lots of clone shenanigans. Some serial killings. And a few murders 💖.

4. Person of Interest - (containing 5 seasons, or 103 episodes) - trailer here.

Okay I'm beginning to see how I might have a found family trope issue.

Former CIA agent gets recruited by a reclusive billionaire computer programmer who developed a... machine that can predict acts of terror before they happen. But it also predicts 'irrelevant' acts of violence that will result in someone's death.

Unless someone interferes.

I'd really like to spoil some stuff to get you all to watch this one. But I'm going to maintain self control and just mention that early on they get a dog named Bear. Bear is a very good boy. Watch it for Bear.

Also for excellent commentary on rights of privacy, government surveillance and what does 'greater good' even mean? But mostly Bear.

5. 12 Monkeys - (containing 4 seasons, or 47 episodes) - trailer here.

The very best time travel show out there. What starts out as a confusing mess of causality basically exploding, by the end of the series all makes complete and total sense.

(when that final timey-whimey loop slid into place and revealed the entire pattern it was like a choir of angels started singing in the back of my head. It was freaking glorious).

Anyway, a man from a post apocalyptic future travels into the past to stop a plague from decimating nearly the entire world population.

He has the name of the man who released the virus and it's supposed to be a single trip. One trip. One bullet. Simple. Done.

Except then things keep escalating, and escalating until time begins eating its own tail and it might start looking like the end of the world might be a better ending than erasing all of time and space from reality.

Because when our guys screw it up, they screw it up GOOD.

And oh yeah... found family.

6. The Good Place - (containing 4 seasons, or 53 episodes) - trailer here.

A self-proclaimed Arizona dirtbag opens her eyes and finds out that she's dead and got accepted in the Good Place. Except that as soon as she arrives the Good Place starts glitching, and she really, REALLY needs to become a better person before she can be found out and kicked out to the Bad Place.

Luckily her assigned soulmate was a professor of ethics and moral philosophy.

One of the funniest, most thoughtful and clever comedies I've ever watched. Ever. The characters are delightful and by the time the final minute rolled around I had sobbed my heart out multiple times (which, as we all know, is a sign of the very best comedies out there).

As for the question of whether or not this too contains Found Fami- Yes! Obviously, yes.

7. Avatar: the Last Airbender - (containing 3 seasons, or 61 episodes) - intro here (couldn't locate the trailer but it's basically the same thing in this case).

The four nations lived in harmony. Until the Fire Nation attacked.

It's been a hundred years since the beginning of the war when two kids from the Southern Water Tribe find a boy frozen in ice and wake him up. A boy who's able to bend all four elements... though not very well.

Enter multi-nation flying road trip (thank you Appa, we love you most of all) as they try to find teachers for the Avatar and save the world.

Includes found family (shut up), amazing fight scenes, the most heartfelt and vivid characters ever, and the best example of a redemption arc actually done well.

8. Love Between Fairy and Devil - (containing 1 season, or 36 episodes) - trailer here.

This one gutted me. I'm saying this as a compliment. But it had to be said. Completely destroyed me. I just haven't been the same.

A love story between an Orchid Fairy and the leader of the Moon Tribe that starts out with her accidentally releasing him from millennia long imprisonment and then takes you through the caleidoscope of all possible human emotions (it's a body-swap comedy through the first part, then a romcom, then a dramatic romantic tale, and finally a tragic love story).

But it's such a satisfying slow burn.

And it carries this... humanity through the whole thing that makes it so visceral.

If you're a romantic who's very tired of instalove and characters dropping all their morals because 'ooh, attractive person' then you've got to watch this. Because this story does NOT take the easy road there.

(my more extensive rec for this series can be found here)

9. Star Wars: The Clone Wars - (containing 7 seasons, or 133 episodes) - fanmade trailer here (it was better than any of the official ones).

This series did so much. Introduced Ahsoka Tano, and made us love her. Gave names and faces and souls to the Clone Troopers (okay, it's the same face but you know what I mean), to a point where their endings during Order 66 destroyed me just as much as the ending of the Jedi Order. And somehow made me both love Anakin AND be a million times more angry with him.

There are some arcs in this series that might be a bit weaker. But there were some... god, there's a reason I love Clone Wars more than any other series or trilogy in this universe. And I'm not even a little ashamed to say it.

Must watch for Disaster Lineage shenanigans; for the vod'e; AND for the Jedi (who did their best okay? They always did their best 😭💔).

(and on the subject of found family... do I even need to comment)

10. Nikita - (containing 4 seasons, or 73 episodes) - trailer here.

A rogue assassin that escaped Division - covert government agency that takes recruits out of prison, fakes their deaths and then forces them to become spies and assassins - has come back to take it down. Brick by brick if she has to. With guns and explosives too when that works better.

Contains soooo many cool fight scenes. Is full of incredible characters you'll fall in love with (and hate with) very quickly. And most of all has an incredibly complex relationship of mentorship and friendship between two women that holds both great admiration and betrayal, real care and love as well as rage and hatred, forgiveness, mutual respect and an unbreakable kind of bond that so very rarely involves even one female character on TV, let alone two.

(as usual, found family tropes up the wazzoo).

-----

In conclusion. We all know there's going to be a large space between seasons of our favorite shows now (and some shows that aren't going to survive it). Let's fill that space with some excellent TV we haven't had a chance to see yet.

And direct the blame for the wait towards the right place (i.e. the studios).

[devildom-moss]

Could you write poly dialuci asking a gn mc out? Maybe how each of them realizes the crush they have on mc and how they’d like to ask mc to join their relationships? I’m fine with just hcs or a full piece, whatever works best for you :>

I wrote you some headcanons, anon. Hopefully they are to your liking. They're a pretty common ship, but I think this is my first time writing anything for them. (Am I going to need a ship and threesome section in my masterlist soon?)

Poly!DiaLuci want MC to join them

(Lucifer x Diavolo x gn!MC)

(Slightly suggestive)

Word Count: +700

Diavolo, as the prince, is more guarded and inaccessible than Lucifer, so it takes him longer to be completely smitten. This works out better because Lucifer would be more prone to jealousy than Diavolo – or, at least, Lucifer's jealousy is more petty and bitter than Diavolo’s.

Lucifer develops feelings through a series of kind acts. Seeing MC take care of his brothers is the first step; someone who treats his brothers well is a prerequisite. As much as he likes to act all tough, and despite how he scolds them for spoiling his brothers and encouraging their poor behavior, he’s actually endeared by it. When they extend that kindness to him afterwards, his heart begins to melt.

Lucifer falls first, but he doesn’t act on it in earnest. (He might flirt and tease a little bit, but he doesn’t truly make an attempt to seduce them.) Diavolo notices, but instead of being jealous, he’s just intrigued. He wants to get to know MC more. Anyone who can capture Lucifer’s attention has Diavolo’s interest.

Lucifer tries to play the long game with Diavolo, believing that it’s only a matter of time before his partner sees MC’s charm as well.

It doesn’t take long for MC to get to Diavolo once he becomes more receptive. Whenever they do something thoughtful, Diavolo melts instantly. It would be something simple, like bringing a limited-edition flavor pudding to Diavolo while he’s working. As chance would have it, there was only one left. Diavolo would offer a bite to MC, and despite Lucifer being in the same room, he would insist on feeding them.

MC’s smile was so sweet that Diavolo would offer another bite, but MC would refuse because they got it for Diavolo. He should eat the rest. With that, MC would be on their way, leaving Diavolo to his pudding and work.

Lucifer saw the way Diavolo looked at MC and decides to confront him. Lucifer already understands how he feels about MC. Now is his chance to bring Diavolo onto his playing field. There was a quiet understanding that they were both crushing based on how they spoke about and looked at MC recently; Lucifer was just waiting for more tangible proof to bring up the topic. (And honestly, I think Diavolo would already be aware of Lucifer’s plan, so he chose to feed MC in front of Lucifer on purpose. He also just wanted to feed them, though.)

“You’re quite fond of them, aren’t you?” “I suppose I am. You can’t blame me, though, can you, Lucifer?” “We’re of the same mind. What should we do about this?”

They would hatch a plan to get MC alone and try to seduce them together. I imagine Lucifer would suggest that they invite them to tea or for a glass of Demonus – ideally at the castle for the sake of privacy. Lucifer just wants somewhere intimate where they could confess. (And let’s face it he’s horny on main. He wants to confess somewhere where they won’t be interrupted after the confession, either.)

Diavolo, on the other hand, would want to show off a bit more – take MC out and spoil them; he wants to prove that it’s a date before they can even confess. He’d want to take them somewhere fancy or beautiful: renting out an entire restaurant, paying for a private room at a club (which honestly gives me so many smut thoughts sorry), or even bringing them on a day trip if he can get the time.

They’re pretty upfront about it and quickly ask about MC’s feelings. “MC, we’ve brought you here today to discuss something in particular.” “How do you feel about us?”

Once they confirm MC’s feelings, they’ll confess properly. (Although, I don’t think they would invite MC on a date if they weren’t certain that MC would return their feelings beforehand.) “I see. Have you entertained any particularly naughty thoughts about us that you’d like to share, MC?” “Lucifer! Don’t tease them so soon. We should at least be honest first. MC, you’ve caught our attention. Neither of us is opposed to sharing if it means getting closer to you.” “Which is to say, if you’re interested, Diavolo and I are not so exclusive that you couldn’t join us: romantically. . . or sexually, if you’re inclined.”

Honestly, I think Diavolo would immediately put the moves on MC, asking them to come over and sit on his lap while they “get to know each other better.” Lucifer will pretend to be more composed, but he’s no better; he’s eager to get his hands on MC too.

A/N: There's only one more day left in to answer the December post poll. I also posted details about what I'll be doing for the 1 year anniversary of this blog. Check that out if you haven't already.

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Thirty-Three

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I just wanted to warn y'all that we're going to be getting into some messed up shit here. Even more messed up than assault, getting drugged, nearly raped, and peeing on yourself. As always, thank you so much for your patience with these updates, and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Warnings: Graphic depictions of a miscarriage and related thoughts, vomiting, daddy Daemon.

The prescribed charcoal remedy had long dried on your stomach, cracking and flaking gray chunks into your sheets. Helaena had left with the sun low in the sky, leaving chaste kisses on yours and Aegon's foreheads. She went to ensure Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were comfortable, and they went down to rest.

Aegon refused to move when the Maester returned for the evening; his arm slung over your chest and nose buried into your neck. Orwyle did his work as if the Prince was not there, wringing a damp, woolen cloth into a bowl of cool water as he removed the hardened remedy from your abdomen.

He observed with wrinkled brows when he saw the Valyrian symbols above your womb, rocking the fabric over your malleable skin as he quelled the uneasy feeling in his stomach. He rinsed the material, the clear water becoming ash as he continued his duties.

Orwyle longed to voice his concerns regarding your health, fiddling with his fingers as he concocted another batch of charcoal and clay. You needed to wake soon so he could ensure your best chance of survival. The first forty-eight hours were the most crucial for those battling Poison Hemlock, and the fact that the Stranger had not taken you was a miracle. Animals who ingested the flowering plant died within a day of doing so, their lungs giving out or seized by convulsions.

The Maester believed you were more robust than he thought. The Mother had unquestionably blessed you with the strength of the Warrior to have you breathing for this long. Or perhaps, he thought, it was the Valyrian Gods of your ancestors, the dragon blood in your veins, that protected you.

The few interactions Orwyle had with you always left him with a joyful feeling, a small ray of light within his darkened quarters filled with dusty and ancient tomes. He tried not to care for your health more than that of a provider and his patient, but he found it challenging.

It was the dichotomy, he thought, of when you were awake, full of life, sparring with words and the swords against men who believed themselves better than you, to now, laying on your soft feather tick mattress with an emotionless, sallow hue to your skin. It caused him anguish. Orwyle was determined to find out who would do such a thing to you, uncharacteristically desiring them to be brought to the Father's justice, and resolved to remind Aegon of the need to do so when your two servants entered the chamber.

Once he finished making another concoction, Aegon waved him off, leaving with a firm yet uneasy bow to the room. The moment he left, Aegon stood, righting his rumpled tunic from his few restless hours of sleep, and addressed Fiora and Jeyne.

"What news have you?" he asked pointedly, gathering the ashy mucilage and brush to apply to your abdomen.

The maids shared a look, Fiora's eyes seeming to have never dried up as she cowered behind her companion. Jeyne inhaled a resolute breath. Her years of working for spoiled, impuissant palace goers was a typical occurrence.

"We have found a servant boy who claims to have seen the Princess's protector enter her chambers hours before your discovery. I believe that there is no coincidence to his absence at her door during that time," she relayed in one steady breath, hands clasped humbly over her lower abdomen.

Aegon grunted, disbelieving the credibility of such a statement. It would be the most obvious answer for Ser Arryk to be the culprit. He was heartbroken that his idyllic image of you shattered and the only one besides Aegon who could get close enough to slip poison in unnoticed. The answer was too simple, too straightforward to be true. A lowly kingsguard was the easiest to blame to save face within the royal family and protect whoever really did this. He still had the feeling within him that his mother had something to do with this. It was no coincidence that days prior, the Queen demanded you to leave, and now suddenly, you were at death's door.

Yes, heartbroken and ego-damaged men were a danger to those around them. Aegon understood that more than any, but Arryk would never go so far as to kill you for it. His oath was still to that of the King.

"Bring me this boy," Aegon said dispassionately, never looking in the maid's direction, simply painting your skin.

Fiora and Jeyne nodded, curtsying as was protocol, and headed for the exit until Aegon stopped them short.

"I'm sure you know that the Hand has barred any ravens from King's Landing to Dragonstone," he inquired, unamused as a sneer curled his lip. "Her family must know what has happened here. The more who know about this assassination attempt on a, perhaps this rat will feel pressured reveal themselves."

They both glanced at each other, Fiora gnawing on her lip as more tears emerged from her viridian eyes. Aegon ignored the servant's weeping and placed the bowl on a writing desk with the rest of the Maester's equipment. He pulled a piece of folded cream parchment from his trousers and hurriedly scribbled, fearing someone getting wind of his plan.

"Here is a letter meant for her father," he stated, flicking the paper between his index and middle finger. "You will not be able to send it through the rookery and must go to a brothel madame within the slums of Flea Bottom. Her name is Babette and she will ensure that my words make it to Dragonstone unhindered," Aegon instructed calmly.

They were stunned. Both maids stood in the doorway to your chambers with slightly parted lips, reminding him of a fish. They had never seen him act like such a... prince. He was raised within the castle walls and had the highest education of anyone in Westeros, yet he never seemed to take advantage of it. The maids heard rumors that Aegon was no longer seen at brothels or gambling houses, though they did not believe such a thing to be valid until now.

Fiora's gaze drifted to your listless form, fiery brows arched in disbelief, slowly drifting back to the white-haired prince. Jeyne was the first of the duo to compose herself and briskly walked forward, taking the wax three-headed dragon seal to her cracked hands. You had changed Aegon in ways that people believed impossible, and if she hadn't realized it until now, then who else knew?

If she, someone who saw you daily, did not know the effort and influence you had over a person, did anyone? The eldest maid felt a pang of sadness in her heart for you as weathered eyes lowered to the stone floor, the memory of her scrubbing away your blood and bile replaying as if she were there again.

Jeyne heard passing gossip that you had brought up concern for the small folk during a council meeting. It was fleeting, nothing more than a whisper of a feather drifting in the wind, and soon she forgot about it. What other accomplishments had you done that no one knew of? It was the plight of women, it seemed, to sacrifice one's soul to receive respect or recognition in the world. Once you awoke, she would tell you how much she saw and that your actions were not in vain.

If you woke up, she grimly realized.

A frown pulled at Jeyne's thin lips as she returned to Fiora's side. Her companion seemed to sense the elder's thoughts, placing a comforting hand at her back. Again, She faced Aegon, his violet eyes never leaving hers as she spoke.

"You are changed, Prince Aegon, and while that does not atone for the wrongs you have done, it shows that you are capable of being better," Jeyne expressed with a firm look on her visage. "It would do her well to know that."

Aegon needn't ask whom she was speaking of. He already knew, a sullen look coming over his face as he focused on the cracks of the stone floor. The memory of your limp body when he found you vividly displayed in his mind's eye.

Jeyne and Fiora exited with brief nods and bent knees, with two different goals in mind. The elder would get the servant boy, and the younger would go to the brothel, madame. They didn't ask why Aegon trusted this woman, but they knew it was useless to try. All that mattered now was ensuring your safety and justice.

A quiet groan caused Aegon to lose his collection of thoughts, swiftly going to your side as he watched your brows arch in pain. Droplets of sweat he had not noticed glistened on your hairline and ran down your temples, grabbing a cloth to blot at the excess perspiration. Your breathing sped, breasts rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm. Seeing you more alive as Aegon rang the dampened fabric into the bowl was a relief.

Aegon slid into his place next to you, intertwining his fingers with your limp ones as he brought your knuckles to his lips, stroking the thin skin of your hand. His lips pursed in thought. Aegon knew the Keep was full of snakes ready to strike at any opportunity to raise themselves into higher power, no matter the cost. But in his mind, it was too risky to harm a member of the royal family, but others did not seem to share the same sentiment, and anger filled his hardened soul once more.

Aegon tightened his grip on your hand, harsh enough to bend their sides and crackle the bones.

"When you wake, little one, we shall rain dragon fire on who dared hurt you," he declared, sullen face now calloused.

You found yourself within a void, darkness surrounding your body clad in a simple white gown. You couldn't see the beginning or end of where you were, as if your eyes were shut, an unending blackness never touched by light. Your hands found their way to your face, fingertips touching your cheeks, the slope of your nose, and the sockets of your eyes to ensure you were, in fact, real.

If you wake...

Memories flashed within your mind, becoming the only thing you could see in the infinite darkness. You recalled voices, wet mouths talking and drinking, tongues licking lips and tasting something rancid and sweet, hands gesturing and twitching, crawling up your legs. Nausea churned your stomach, and pain rippled in your gut, causing you to fall to your knees. The ground was solid; it was real, and suddenly your eyes opened.

The world was still midnight, though you could see a man before you.

But it wasn't a man...

You weren't sure if it was a person, their face covered with an obsidian mantle and the seven-pointed star's insignia woven into their robes. Fear cinched your heart, and your chest rose and fell with quick breaths as you attempted to run, only to be flung back into your spot by an invisible force.

"Who-" you stammered, breaths coming in quick pants, "who are you? Where am I? I-I cannot see."

The being reached an arm in your direction, the fabric slowly drawing back to reveal its skin or lack thereof. Their finger slowly traced down your cheek, cold and warm, comforting and alarming, yet like nothing simultaneously.

"I am what I am," they stated, tone unlike anything you had ever heard. It sounded like the voices of many speaking simultaneously, men, women, children, and everything in between melting into one eerie noise.

"You're here to hurt me, aren't you?" The words did not sound like they came from a grown woman; instead, a young girl high-pitched and hoydenish with fright as tears lined your lashes. Your breath hitched as their fingers left your skin, fear scratching at your throat and squeezing your eyes shut. "Where am I?"

The being stepped backward, seeming to float on the ground as sparkles of white flashed in the air. Stars, you realized, twinkling in the infinite void. For a moment, you were put into a state of wonder, gazing at the bursts of light in awe as the being only stared. It made no movements nor breaths, allowing you to take in the amazement of your surroundings.

"Am I dead?" you asked, finally gaining the courage to voice the most prevalent question in your mind.

"You are in the world between worlds, child. Not dead yet not alive within the realm of your creation," they answered with not a hint of emotion.

You couldn't hide the aghast sob that left your lips at his revelation, your mind reeling. You knew what happened for you to wake here. You drank from a cup tainted with poison that caused your limbs to freeze and your brain to wave, but who did it was unknown. The only picture within your mind was a silhouette of a figure with short, mousy hair and a slouched posture, supporting their weight on something.

You knew who they were. You felt it in your bones, but your mind refused to let you see. Was that your psyche subconsciously trying to protect you, or did the poison affect your memory?

"I don't want to die! What did I do to deserve this?" you wept with blurred vision, looking at the unmoving being before you.

You felt them sigh, though they did not move, their chest not indicating if they had lungs. "New born babes should not be taken from the world before they can sin, yet they are."

An involuntary grimace pulled your face as you licked the briny water from your lips. The world was cruel and uncaring. It took children from mothers before they were ready and kind people into places of darkness. Life was bleak and hopeless and full of negativity. At times, you wondered if there was a point to living when life would always end the same—breathing, eating, fighting, and suffering until you died and were forgotten a hundred years from now.

"I know who you are," you spat, tongue thick as you swallowed tears. "You are a callus and heartless being who takes those undeserving while displaying yourself in a cloak of self-righteousness."

They did not seem angry about what you said and tilted their head in response, examining you like one of Helaena's pinned insects. Its unseen stare unnerved you, appearing like a statue you never prayed to within the Sept. Anger began to well in the place of your unease at their indifference, taking purposeful strides to them before your body was abruptly taken aback, nearly tripping over your feet.

"I am neither good nor evil, simply I am, and I have come to take what is mine."

It raised the same arm that stroked your cheek and pointed at you, causing panic to grip your chest as the shrouded hands shoved you to the ground, air knocking from your lungs. You struggled against them, the whites of your eyes visible as your arms and legs flailed in their vice-like grip. The being came closer, towering over your writhing form until you could see what hid underneath the obsidian hood.

A face not of this world looked down at you, half human and inhuman, alive yet dead. It was too much for your mind to comprehend as you released a scream, kicking your limbs as you desperately tried to escape from whatever fate awaited you.

The hands pulled at your hair, keeping your head down and unable to see the face of the Stranger any longer.

"No! No, please! I don't want to die!" you beseeched, throat raw from tears and screams as your wide-eyed stare found the Stranger at your feet once more.

"I was there in the dark when you spilled your first blood and I have come to take what is mine—one soul. No less," they repeated in an amalgamation of different tones. Your heart broke for the loss not only of life but of what might be.

The Stranger's accusing finger continued to point not at you but at your stomach, your misty stare flickering from yourself to them.

You knew what was to come next. They would rip your heart out before your very eyes, crushing your life source within the secular realm and the divine. You would never wake again, never feel the sun flush your skin or the wind whipping your cheeks on dragon back. Aegon would revert to his old ways of whoring, gambling, and drinking himself into unconsciousness, a crown forced on his head as the realm plunged into war and your kin were slaughtered. Every sacrifice would be for not all due to one simple drink.

Refusing to resign to your fate, you thrashed and screamed in failed attempts at breaking free. There was no escape to this realm—no beginning or end in the vast darkness. There was only you, these unseen hands pulling you into submission, and the Stranger, his digit still raised and pointed.

"What have I done to deserve this?" you wailed, feeling your limbs locked at the joints. "I-I know I was not a devoted follower of the Faith and have sinned, but I repent. I'll pay penance to the Seven each day forth from now on. I'll attend services in the Grand Sept. I'll-I'll refrain from any vices you so wish. Just let me live!"

Your bargaining with the faceless being went unheard, his arm slowly falling to its side as you felt the hidden fingers slither across your abdomen, tearing your nightgown down the middle. Your eyes grew wide with horror, attempting to pry them away with panicked movements only to be thwarted by the others pushing your limbs into the ground.

"Stop!" you screamed, voice cracking as your neck was whipped back, head cracking onto the ground as your vision flashed.

Though you couldn't see them, you could feel them. Their digits indented into your malleable flesh as it broke under pressure, blood seeping from the gashes as a searing pain tore like a thousand cuts of a hot blade through your skin. Blood poured from your stomach and down your sides, soaking your tattered porcelain nightgown into a stained crimson. Wailing in agony, your throat grew sore, limbs twisting and contorted into inhuman positions as you gave under their ravenous scratching.

"Blessed be you, the daughter of the Mother bound to suffer eternal through the sins of your father committed long before your conception," the Stranger prayed, words carrying over your cries. "Blessed be your whore mother, tired and angry, waiting with bated breath on a ferry that will never move again. Blessed be the children. Each and every one who have come to know their god through some senseless act of violence."

The exposed image of your essence caused your heart to become faint, the torment fading into the back of your mind as your vision fluttered and your head became light. It was a small mercy in the ruthless death that you could no longer feel the torture of your organs torn into, limbs twitching in subconscious reflexes.

"Blessed be you, girl, promised to me by a man who can only feel hatred and contempt towards you."

The squelching of your insides was sickening as silent tears leaked down your temples, confused as to how you were still alive. No human could survive being disemboweled; the blood loss alone would kill the most robust of men, yet the invisible beings continued to burrow into your insides, seeming as if in search of something.

The Stranger did not move from its place at your feet, observing as your intestines glistened in the twinkling lights of the void.

You felt betrayed by them and those who preached that the Stranger was not a being of good or evil. They were supposed to guide you into the afterlife, not watch as beings threw your organs to the side. They lied. No being would stand there and allow a daughter of the Mother to have her insides turned out. You never feared the Stranger yourself. Death was inevitable, but now you understand why followers of the Seven feared the Stranger.

Cries that were higher pitched than yours yanked you into reality, a single thread pulling your gaze back to your stomach as a babe covered in crimson, glistening with your essence, was ripped from your womb. Confusion, fear, surprise, and desperation surged through you, attempting to pry yourself from your confines again. The cord connecting the child to you still pulsed with blood through the purple and blue veins as it was taken and placed into the hands of the Stranger.

"What are you doing?" you questioned with a thick tone, panic seizing your limbs as you broke from their unseen grip. 

That was yours—something you made solely of your labor, and they were taking it from you. It belonged to you!

You desperately yanked at the fleshy cord still connecting you to your child, the babe's shriek piercing your ears and into your heart. "Please, give it back!" you sobbed, reaching out again only to be shoved. "No! No, please! Please give me back my child! They are mine! They don't deserve this."

You were unsure of what came over you. You had never met this creature before, though it was born of your flesh and blood; you did not want them taken. An instinct to protect the life of something so fragile and innocent lay dormant within your body, coming to fruition. The thought of sacrificing yourself in the babe's place nearly slipped off your tongue, but a sudden light blinded you, pushing the cries of your kin to fade as your eyes burned.

When you came to, you were no longer in an infinite void. Instead, within your chambers, thick, fragrant smoke choked your lungs as the same searing agony from before tore through you. Aegon stood over your writhing form, and his brows arched with concern as he saw your sheets become scarlet.

You stared at him, his eyes glassy and filled with an exhausted longing, as he rushed to your side, grasping your slick palm. "You're alive!" he exclaimed, unable to think clearly through his shock. "You're alive."

Unable to speak, you nodded, sweat and tears dampening your face as another wave of pain knotted within your lower back, forcing a scream. Aegon's violet eyes danced over you, seeing your blood now spread onto your top blanket as his cheeks became devoid of color.

An array of thoughts swirled within his mind like a maelstrom at sea, swiftly lifting the sheet away as he saw the crimson between your legs. His first instinct was to believe that, somehow, the assassin had returned underneath his watchful gaze, paranoia seizing his chest. But Aegon, still confused as to what was happening, gripped your hand impossibly tighter, causing a groan that rumbled in your lungs.

"The Maester," you managed to breathe through gritted teeth. "Get the Maester, Aegon."

He paused for a moment too long, and another cramp went through you, wailing with a clenched jaw and shut eyes as your body arched in pain. The prince did not need to be told twice as he watched the woman he loved beg the Gods for mercy, swiftly exiting your room as he ran to Orwyle's chambers, your cries becoming distant within the pale red stone walls.

The man in question opened the door with tired eyes to the Prince's incessant pounding. He did not need him to explain. He knew it had something to do with you as he hastily gathered supplies and the seven-pointed star necklace on his person. What Orwyle did not expect to see when he entered your humid chambers were you on all fours, grunting and straining with blood-soaked hands and bedclothes, sweat discoloring your once pristine nightdress.

He went quickly into action, ordering Aegon to summon your maids as he stood there listlessly, unable to comprehend the urgent words over the sounds of your shrieks. Aegon was unsure when he finally summoned Jeyne and Fiora, the pair looking perplexed before spotting their Lady. Both quickly went into action, following Maester Orwyle's instructions, scattering in and out of your chambers with different items.

Aegon could not think as he observed the events unfold before him. It was all too much. He couldn't process the abrupt chain of events. One moment, you were laying there, breaths barely audible, now suddenly panting and sobbing for an end he was not sure he wanted to see. Aegon did not know if this was an effect of the poison as his distant eyes met yours, lips mouthing something he strained to hear. He could not bear to lose you. He finally had love within his grasp after years of yearning only for it to be promptly taken away before properly basking in its warmth.

Aegon, who was so focused on the end of something, could not see the future before him, staring with violet-rimmed pupils within thick lashes, begging him to bring comfort. Finally, he could hear you, a rush of sounds and voices barraging his senses as you strained a grunt for him to come near.

You took his fist in yours, the other clutching the footboard as sweat ran down your neck. It felt as if your head was about to burst from your skull with each contraction, panting like an exerted animal.

"It's almost over now, Princess. You just need to pass the biggest part," encouraged Jeyne, a soothing maternal presence in a place that lacked it. "Come now. In through your nose and push out your mouth."

Nodding fervently, you did as told, inhaling deeply and growling with downward force, bringing your arm to wrap around Aegon for support. You needed the closeness and comfort a loved one brought as you went through this traumatic event.

Tears from above sprinkled on your damp hair. Streaks of wetness lined Aegon's cheeks as much as they did yours as another cramp rolled through you.

"What's happening?" he whispered against your cheek, breath uncomfortably hot.

Surprise dawned on your features as the pain ebbed for a merciful moment, resting on your knees. Your free hand grasped his silver roots in support as your other led Aegon down to your stomach, unable to speak. He stared with wrinkled brows and glassy purple eyes as you allowed him to apply pressure there. You need not tell him the reason in words as he glanced down. It could only be one thing.

"You are with child?" he questioned softly, tenderly stroking the area with his thumb.

You nodded, the cramps rising and commanding your body to gush more gelatinous blood. "I saw her. She was right there and they took her from me. Straight from my womb as she wailed."

"Who? Who took her from you?" he asked, free head tangling within your matted hair as you rested your forehead against his.

"The Stranger."

Aegon believed this to be the ramblings of someone in labor, the blood loss not helping to have a clear mind.

The death of a child, whether in this realm or within the womb, hurts immeasurably. The loss of something you could see and touch, something you formed a connection with, brought immense suffering to you and many of those around you, but it wasn't grief to bear alone. Having a life stolen from inside you created feelings of failure and doubts about your body's natural capabilities in isolation, morphing into self-blame and loathing of what could have been if only you were different.

But it was not your fault, not in this or any other sense. Your body did its natural process of protecting you, and even though you did not meet the child in its complete form, there was still a connection to mourn.

So deep within your thoughts, you did not hear the opening of oak doors, two pairs of footfalls storming into the room as your support was suddenly ripped away. Your fists balled into the crumpled sheets in compensation. Aegon struggled in Ser Criston's ironclad grip on his collar as you felt the sudden urge to push, push, push.

"Yes, Princess, yes! Keep going, more is coming out! You're almost finished," Fiora cheered, kneeling in Aegon's place as she clasped her fists around yours.

"Bring him back! I want Aegon!" you shouted. "I need him, please!"

At your cries, the Prince felt panic begin to take root, a terror and desperation to get to you that was so visceral that he did the only thing he could. Aegon growled and bit down on the fleshy part of Ser Criston's palm that met his thumb and forefinger, breaking the skin as blood stained his lips scarlet. The knight howled in pain, releasing the Prince on instinct as he attempted to return, only to have his mother stand in the way.

"Aegon, you needn't worry about her now. She is in capable hands," Alicent attempted to placate, her voice as gentle and maternal as when he was a child.

He paid no mind to her false coos and shoved the Queen out of his way, uncaring as she landed into a corner of furniture that stabbed her side. Ser Criston swiftly regained his composure at his Lady's shriek, once again grabbing Aegon by the fabric of his tunic and towards the exit.

"She is your Queen and mother! How dare you lay hands on her!" Criston admonished and struck the Prince with an armored grip upside his head as if he were no more than an insolent mutt.

You protested the action, begging the Queen, Ser Criston, the Maester, or anyone who would hear your pleas to bring Aegon back to you, but no one listened. The Queen was the highest authority in the room. Her word was law, and you were nothing but a lowly bastard dressed in fancy clothes and titles left without regard.

"Mother! Please, don't do this. She's with child!" the Prince beseeched, unruly locks of unkempt silver strewn across his pale face.

"Not anymore," Ser Criston jeered as his vision met the blood-stained sheets, dragging a raging Aegon away.

Alicent stood, righting herself and smoothing the fabric of her peridot gown with jeweled fingers. "You do not have the right to make such demands, Aegon. Leave at once. We shall discuss this later."

She couldn't stand to look at him, the shame of everything weighing heavier than all man's sins, as Alicent turned her brown orbs away from her son. He had sired bastards before, as had many Targaryen men, but one within his own house, with another bastard no less, was too much for the Queen's mind to comprehend.

The doors to your chambers slammed shut, rattling your bones as sobs of defeat tore through your throat. Your body did not allow you to mourn Aegon's absence, focusing your efforts as your muscles forcefully contracted, expelling the last of the thick matter out of your womb and onto the bedclothes. Fiora stroked your sweat-knotted hair as the pain subsided into dull cramps, reminding you of a particularly rough moon's blood, lungs slowly inhaling as your body relaxed.

Maester Orwyle began dabbing at your temples and neck as you sat, breathing heavily through your nose. "You did well, my lady," he praised quietly, glancing over his shoulder to Alicent, who stood staring into the hearth with her thumb in her mouth.

You sighed in acknowledgment, eyes briefly shutting as your fury gave you the energy to speak. "You are a cruel woman, Alicent." Your words were a dagger straight to her heart as you wiped your stained hands on your nightgown.

She turned to you and quickly placed her arms at her side, trying to put on an air of pomp that the situation did not need. "Tis hardly proper for a man to witness the pains of a miscarriage," she answered as if rehearsed.

"Proper?" you asked rhetorically. "I was dying and all you cared about was fucking propriety?" you snarled, rising to your knees with a wince, nerves alight.

The Queen did not dare say more, her conscience gnawing at the back of her mind like her teeth to her lip. "I know this was your doing," you spat, allowing Jeyne to help you onto your plush settee as the Maester began to clean your stained thighs.

The two women who had been with you since the moment you were forced to call the Red Keep a home gathered your soiled linens, stripping your bed without needing to be told. The sight brought warmth to your heart you had thought died moments ago. Through the brief time of Ser Dalton Greyjoy's presence to dutifully covering marks left behind from stolen moments with Aegon, Jeyne and Fiora's loyalty did not waver. Most maids would be eager to pass on gossip and rumors among the nobility for a chance at some coin. Or perhaps to provide themselves some entertainment in their less fortunate lives, but your two maidservants did not.

You were overwhelmed by a sudden gratefulness for them, longing to bring them into your embrace to sing praises and shout thank yous, but the Queen's looming presence forbade it. There was uncertainty about why she was here. Undoubtedly, the same woman who all but told you to leave King's Landing was not concerned for your well-being. You were hardly but an insect pestering her with your annoying, buzzing wings.

"Is it not enough that you've murdered the last remaining blood of my mother? Now you must take the life of my unborn child," you grunted, adjusting your position on the plush, emerald cushions as nausea struck through your core.

The Queen gasped, and everyone in the room looked weary, certain they were not supposed to hear this. "I would do no such thing, Princess," Alicent rebutted with a horror-stricken expression. "You are being unreasonable. 'Twas whoever snuck into your chambers and poisoned you that did this! Do not blame me for your misfortune."

A hollow laugh escaped your chest at her words, swallowing the bile that rose with the lingering cramps. "Oh, but how fortunate for you," you replied bitterly, the jab tasting acrid on your tongue. You wanted her to leave, to let you grieve the loss of a future you would never know, but she refused, implanting herself into the lives of others to ensure her gains were met. "Have I not earned my place here? Have I not sacrificed enough?"

"You know nothing of sacrifice," Alicent rejected quickly, snapping her avoidant gaze to yours.

"Don't I?" you chortled. The laughter sent your stomach into knots, but you pressed on, nudging Maester Orwyle away to stand upright, much to his concern. "Have I not done what you commanded of me? Kept your son from whoring and drinking himself to death on the streets of Flea Bottom? Do you remember the day you wrote to me? How you implored me to come to King's Landing and herd your son back to the Keep?" you sneered, tears of frustration and sadness welling in your puffy, bloodshot eyes.

No matter how desperately you wished to do so, you would not break in front of the Queen, heart empty as you spoke, blood trickling down your leg. "I have done what you asked and more. I've made Aegon understand the responsibility of his birth. He does not gamble or whore, gluttony is no longer a vice. He's become a better husband, brother, and father. He is everything you want him to be because of me!" Your voice wavered, barely containing a gag that pulled your lip muscles, threatening to become something more.

Realization struck you as you observed the Queen stand underneath your rage. All your life, you have served others to attain recognition in their eyes, whether to prove yourself competent or receive the love and acceptance every child craved. With your father, desperately eager to please him, to show him and all others that you were not the baseborn bastard daughter of a whore---that you could hold your own and make a name for yourself. Your desperation to prove yourself would be your downfall, but no longer would you allow yourself to be the subject of your insecurities. Worth was not dictated by what you did for others but by what you thought of yourself.

"Now that I no longer serve to further your schemes of putting Aegon on the throne, you see it fit to discard me as if I am nothing but a piece thrown about the board, sacrificed to achieve victory." Your anger was palpable, striking the Queen into her soul without physical action.

Alicent inhaled sharply, glancing at your maids and the Maester, who had all seemed to have halted their tasks. Your words were a mirror to her as anxiety began to flutter within her gut underneath so many stares. Hands once primly placed at her side were now picking at the skin of one another, a nervous tick she never broke. She did not know these people. She did not trust them not to run to the nearest lord, who was desperate for Rhaenyra's favor with word of treachery.

"What you claim is treason and not from a sound mind," she protested, her voice velvet. The Queen knew that if she spent a moment longer discussing secrets that had been unsaid, they would finally surface to harm the steps made to plant Aegon on the throne.

You opened your mouth to speak once more, but Alicent's smooth voice was quick to interject.

"Maester, I believe the Princess has gone into hysteria due to the poison. She is not thinking clearly."

You began to argue, but the feeling of nausea overcame you, and you quickly stumbled to your chamber pot as the little contents of your stomach exited. Fiora and Jeyne rushed to your side, holding your tangled strands from your face as the other rubbed soothing circles across your lower back.

"Her hysteria is dangerous to herself and those around her, Maester. I believe milk of the poppy will numb her mind enough until she is well again," Alicent said with pursed lips, staring down at your hunched back from under her nose.

Orwyle blanched, understanding that this was not a suggestion but a request. Who was he to deny the Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms? "Your thoughtfulness for the Princess moves me deeply, your grace. However, any attempt to sedate her now would put her at more unneeded risk. She has lost far too much blood, and I must monitor her health."

The Queen's jaw clenched, teeth grinding at the man's tenacity. What did you have that gave people such a steadfast honor to protect you? Unlike her, you could not give them titles, land, or money in compensation. She was the Queen. They were supposed to serve her and bend to her will. Yet, they tended to your well-being with unyielding devotion, even in the face of one of Westeros's most influential people. Why did they not stand with her? Did a Queen not offer more than a bastard? Why not her? 

Why not me? Why not me? Why not me?

Envy ran hot through her veins at the thought. 

The three servants knew what this was—an attempt to control the situation and narrative, to prove that Queen Alicent would remain the all-encompassing figure of power and dominance, not some young, pretty bastard girl who bewitched all those around her.

"I shall not allow another danger to lurk about my home, especially one that deceives. We already have her assassin to worry about." She ignored your scoff, her words velvet but holding an icy undertone.

When Maester Orwyle did not move, Alicent shifted, palms conjoined just below her heart as she raised a manicured brow. "Do it Maester or I will have my guards do it for you."

The air was cold on Dragonstone, with a salty bite stinging Prince Daemon's flushed cheeks as he stood on a brimstone balcony overlooking where Blackwater Bay met the Narrow Sea. The moons spent without his daughter chipped at his war-hardened soul, revealing the center he kept tucked away, though many did not see it.

He hesitated again, gaze flickering to your slouched one leaning onto your ladies for support. You gave him a solemn nod, conveying with a single look that you would not resist. If this would get Alicent to leave the four of you alone and allow you to mourn peacefully... so be it. It would be better for you and them. You would not have to think about what happened for at least a little longer, and perhaps the pain would be gone when you woke, and your beloved Prince would be at your side once more. But hope was a double-edged sword. Each side was as sharp and brutal as the other and cut equally profoundly.

People believed Daemon to be a cruel, calculating man deserving of the title "Rogue Prince." And while they were not wrong, it did not mean that the same sentiment traveled to the treatment of his family. He was devoted to his wife, stepsons, and true-born children, tending to them as a shepherd would his flock. He no longer cared for the war in the Stepstones or any battle, focusing his efforts on the future, a future for his family that seemed to grow more uncertain as his brother's health declined.

While he did feel guilt knock at his hollow chest when he thought about his eldest daughter, the life she was born into, the life she was kept from and forced to live, he did not have regrets. Daemon would, a thousand times over, accept you into his heart.

You were a part of him he did not know was missing, fitting so perfectly into his cracked soul that not even Rhaenyra's love could mend. You are as much of his blood as the young Aegon, Viserys, and the babe that grew stronger every passing day within his wife's womb. There was a special connection between the two of you that only a father of a girl could comprehend. He now understood why his brother passed him in favor of Rhaenyra becoming heir, for if he had the choice, you would serve to inherit all he had.

Daemon longed to have you at his side again, listening intently to whatever thoughts, happenings, and plans you had. The council meetings around the Painted Table grew increasingly irksome as he patiently awaited your next raven. Rhaenyra brought Jace along to more than one gathering with the pompous lords. Daemon admired the boy's fire and tenacity, yet he always seemed to lack the mature awareness you seemed to possess—no doubt a byproduct of your vastly different upbringings.

It had been a sennight since your last word, the longest Daemon had ever waited, and he grew antsy with each passing hour. He found himself pacing the sandy beaches across the island, climbing the same mountains and hills he forced you to in training. Memories were what he felt he had left of you now and that of the written word.

"My love."

He heard his wife's tender voice calling him inside. "You will hear from her soon. I know it."

Rhaenyra's soft hand found Daemon's, bringing it to the growing bump underneath her Myrish lace dress. The notion grounded him as much as her as they pressed their foreheads together, sharing a kiss full of all the longing and melancholy he kept hidden within himself.

It was not until late evening, as he and his wife retired to their chambers for rest, that a footman knocked, revealing a single piece of parchment atop a bronze platter. Daemon's heart leaped for joy, knowing it could only be one thing, and he hastily tore at the three-headed dragon seal.

Rhaenyra allowed her husband to read in silence, brushing out her long, snowy hair as she hummed a tune her late mother used to sing, absentmindedly stroking the life tucked below her breast. When her task was done, and she had secured herself within her thick nightdress, she turned to Daemon, his hunched spine facing her over their shared writing desk.

"What news does she have, my darling?" Rhaenyra sang, combing a fragrant oil through her strands. She prodded him further at his silence, eager to know what her chosen daughter said. "Has another lord insulted her again? You mustn't worry about it like last time. She is more than capable of defending herself."

Daemon did not answer, a strained, choked sound that his wife had never heard before emitting from his throat. Rhaenyra turned, swiftly walking to him as she smoothed a palm down the crown of his head to his nape. "Love?"

"She's dying."

"What?" Rhaenyra stammered, taking a step back.

"She was poisoned. The Greens have obstructed all communications with Dragonstone, and the sender is unsure if she will be alive by the time I read this," he answered, paper trembling.

The shock paralyzed all rationality. Rhaenyra didn't know what to think or feel. "Who sent this to you?" she ardently asked. The world around her became fuzzy, and her head went light as she braced herself against the wooden desk.

Daemon flipped the parchment over, searching for any indication of who the sender could be, but found none. "It has the royal seal, yet there is no signage."

His wife had no answer, dread beginning to take hold of her chest as tears collected in her amethyst eyes. A sob escaped Rhaenyra. The pain, the suffering you must have been through, was enough to make her faint, knees buckling as she struggled to stay upright—her poor child. Poor perzītsos dampened until they snuffed out her flame.

Daemon was lost within the confines of his mind. Fear, betrayal, sadness, and anger coursed through him, roaring the dragon blood to life in his veins. 

He felt powerless living on an island away from the daughter he loved, unable to fulfill his role as father and protector. It was a failure on his part not to see what the Hightowers could do. Their schemes and treachery reached from King's Landing to Oldtown, an ancient family with roots among the elites of Westeros. There was a reason they held onto power for so long, and it was not by allowing one unexpected person to throw them awry.

Swiftly, Daemon stood, throwing the sturdy wooden chair behind him with the force of his legs. He gripped the letter with an iron fist, wrinkling the parchment under pressure as he went for the door.

"Daemon," Rhaenyra called, struggling to steady her breath. "Where are you heading?"

The Rogue Prince paused just before the exit, turning on his heel to face his wife, crumpled paper raised high in his hand.

"To burn that green bitch and her cunt father," he proclaimed, a fire within his voice that assured he would keep his word. "They will pay for what they have done to our daughter." 

Rhaenyra understood that convincing him otherwise was futile, and deep down, she didn't want to. Despite not being her biological child, she held you in her heart as her own. She wouldn't stand in the way of Daemon's quest for retribution, knowing that he would spare no effort if their roles reversed. With a brief nod, she left him and settled into a cushioned chair.

Daemon stormed through the brimstone halls of Dragonstone, leather riding boots echoing his every step. He had only one goal, one in which he had no care for the consequences of as he reached the cave where his ride was housed. The Rogue Prince climbed the ropes of Caraxes as the Keepers struggled to untether the beast, mounting atop his dragon and fastening the chains in the saddle.

Masterlist of Series

The Blood Wyrm chirped with a puff of smoke through its nostrils as Daemon snapped the reins, sending the dragon forward and out of the cave. He did not care as the frigid wind cracked like whips against his exposed skin, flying higher—faster to his destination, death and destruction trailing behind beating crimson wings. His daughter would be avenged even if it meant the whole Keep would be nothing but ash and bone by sunset.

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @prettywhenicry4, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @somemydayy, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @heavenly1927, @hjgdhghoe, @im-sidney, @aurorathi, @marihoneywk, @xitsemm, @justbelljust, @qardasngan

Daddy's on his way, babies! Are we excited? I know I am!

I hope this chapter wasn't too sad for y'all. I've never had a miscarriage before or have been pregnant. I wanted to make the most accurate portrayal by talking with people I know who have had one or been pregnant. I apologize if I've offended or triggered anyone with what I wrote.

Thank you again for your understanding and patience while waiting for these updates. Life has been chaotic!

[gojodarling]

after hours ⤑ gojo satoru | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: ❝ thanks to the missions assigned by the higher-ups, you've not seen your boyfriend in two weeks. thus, when he asks you to meet him in his office, at two am no less, there's little you can do to refuse him. ❞ established relationship. pwp.

❥ pairing:  gojo x f!reader ❥ genre: fluff ∴ smut ❥ word count: 14.7k don't look at me 

⤑ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: hard dom!gojo, bratty sub!reader, big cock!gojo, bdsm themes, office sex, teasing, hickeys, marking, fingering, degradation, dirty talk, finger sucking, spanking, pain kink, thigh riding, masturbation, praise, grinding, thigh spanking, choking, nipple play, nipple torture, bondage, anal play, gojo is mean, orgasm control, orgasm denial, cum eating, excessive rubbing/grinding of genitals, wet & messy, self exhibitionism & voyeurism, unprotected sex, riding, rough sex, crying, begging, overstimulation, objectification kink (i.e. she wants to be used as a cocksleeve), deep dicking, hair pulling, once again gojo is fucking mean, spit as lube, anal fingering, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, squirting, brief cum play

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: nothing but gojo brain rot for the rest of the gowhores out there because i am v much obsessed with this man. 12/10 would sell my soul for 1 [one] lick of his dick

― read it on AO3 here

It’s a Tuesday night when your phone buzzes from under your pillow. Considering it’s way past midnight, and you’re attempting to fall asleep—though to no avail, sleep generally didn’t come to you until the early hours of night—you decide to ignore it. Whoever it is, can wait till the morning. After you’ve had some well deserved rest.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself at first.

That is, until your phone buzzes again after a couple of moments. Then again, and again, and again. Until the buzzing sound drives you insane and you have no choice but to answer whoever was messaging you. Whoever it is, it better be a life or death situation—if it’s anything short of mass curses terrorising midtown Tokyo and slaughtering everyone, you’ll be the one committing a series of murders. Especially if it’s the higher-ups sending you on another mission.

When your phone buzzes again, this time with a slew of vibrations, you groan and blindly reach under your pillow to grab it, your eyes squinting at the harsh light when you see multiple notifications from your boyfriend. Curiosity speckling your being, you unlock your phone and open his messages.

asshole💖: u up? asshole💖: baby? asshole💖: baabbbbyyy asshole💖: come on wakey wakey sweet angel asshole💖: its not even 3am i know ur not asleep asshole💖: honey? asshole💖: sweetheart? asshole💖: pretty girl? asshole💖: princess? asshole💖: little dove? you: no, i am asleep asshole💖: haha, knew you weren’t :) asshole💖: where r u rn? you: ? you: in bed you: where else would i be??? asshole💖: which bed, mine or urs you: mine obviously you: ur luxury penthouse is 2 big n bougie for me to stay in it comfortably without u you: all that space to myself is… disconcerting asshole💖: u deserve luxury n bougie baby asshole💖: nothing but the best for my girl

That has you pausing, a warm fuzziness settling within your stomach. You pull your lower lip between your teeth and gnaw at the flesh, your eyes roving across the text over and over again. Satoru spoils you like no one else would, like no one else could. Lavish dates at fancy, completely booked out, reservation only restaurants, extravagant holidays and cruises to beautiful countries across the world, expensive gifts from luxury brands with far more zeros than it’s worth on the price tag.

But none of that compares to the way Satoru is completely and utterly enamoured with you; nor the way he claims you as his. My girl. Something about the honeyed possessiveness in his words blooms butterflies within the pits of your abdomen. And if you close your eyes, you can envision the carnal lust in his eyes as his gaze roves over your body, feel the greedy hunger in his touch as his imaginary fingers skim over your flesh, setting it afire with need. You’ve never felt as loved, or desired, in your life as you have with Satoru.

A smile curls at your lips involuntarily and you begin typing again.

you: ok that’s sweet you: but also it’s fine, i like my room asshole💖: ok so ur at the school then, yeah? come meet me at my office you: what you: ??????? you: no you: its 2am you: some of us are trying to sleep asshole💖: without me? unfortunate. asshole💖: and also unacceptable you: not my fault you’re on a mission

You pause, your exhausted brain slowly parsing his words as you reach over his previous texts once again. In your tiredness, you’d somehow missed the fact that he’d asked you to meet in his office—an office that was definitely in Tokyo, Japan and not London, England where he’d been sent on a mission. As soon as it clicks, you shoot up in bed, the covers falling to your waist. The warmth you’d enveloped yourself disappears, your flesh prickling with goosebumps as a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden drop in temperature. Ignoring the sudden chill, your fingers hastily glide over your phone screen as you reply to him.

you: wait. did u say meet u at ur office???? you: satoru r u back??? asshole💖: lol yeah asshole💖: also not my fault i was on a mission either :(((( asshole💖: blame the higher ups asshole💖: maybe i should kill all of them <3 asshole💖: if it weren’t for them, i would never have to leave u you: 🙄 you: you’ve been saying that ur gonna kill them all for years and yet… here we r, so either follow thru or move on 🙄🙄🙄 you: but also gojo… when tf did u get back 🤨 asshole💖: gojo?! asshole💖: who tf is gojo you: ??? u lmao asshole💖: no tf i’m not asshole💖: it’s satoru, or toru, or baby, or love of my life, or my one and only, or the best dick game ever to u asshole💖: not gojo you: ur literally so annoying asshole💖: you love me you: right now? debatable. i am TRYING to sleep asshole💖: but u can’t sleep can u? you: well, i could if SOMEONE stops blowing up my phone with texts 😐 asshole💖: hahaha asshole💖: ur so funny you: oh my god. WHAT do u want??????? asshole💖: i literally told you. meet me in my office lol you: ? yeah u mentioned you: but why? you: can’t we just see each other tomorrow morning you: u know you: at a more reasonable time asshole💖: no i have something to show u you: what? asshole💖: a surprise :) you: i literally hate you. its 2 ! AM ! asshole💖: yeah but i just got back asshole💖: and i missed u you: … you: i missed you too toru asshole💖: okay good. so you’ll meet me in my office then? you: that is not what i said asshole💖: come ooonnn baby. i really, really missed you :( asshole💖: and that pretty pussy you: you dick!!!! surprise my ass you: this is just about u getting ur dick wet!!!!! asshole💖: hahahaha u got me asshole💖: but no i srsly have a surprise asshole💖: so my office, yeah? you: satoru, it’s so late you: i rly am trying to sleep

Despite your blatant refusal, you find yourself complying. It wasn’t very often that you could truly deny Satoru. More than that, you have missed him, and in spite of the late hour, you couldn’t wait to see him. Throwing the covers off of yourself completely, you slip your feet into your sliders and walk across your room to your closet.

asshole💖: i know u can’t sleep till u get this gojick you: wtf is a gojick asshole💖: gojo dick 🍆💦🍆💦🍆💦 you: 😐 you: yes i can. watch me do it rn you; 🥱😴💤

It only takes you a brief few seconds to type out the messages, before you open your wardrobe and begin looking for some clothes to wear. It’s the middle of winter, and considering the school’s location high in the mountains, on the far outskirts of Tokyo, you would not be able to get away crossing the campus from your accommodation to Satoru’s office—no matter how short the walk—in just your scant pyjamas. Not without you first freezing your tits off at least.

asshole💖: hahaha come on u know u want ur gojogasms asshole💖: so come to my office you: you ! are ! so ! annoying !!!!!! you: also why ur office? you: you can literally warp here and it’s be easier. hell u could even walk. the office isn’t far from my room asshole💖: yeah but where’s the fun in that lol asshole💖: office because i’m doing paperwork you: haha what a joke. u never do paperwork asshole💖: well SOMEONE said im too mean to ijichi. so now i’m doing my own paperwork asshole💖: but it’s boring. and i want u asshole💖: i promise i’ll make it worth ur while you: …. asshole💖: come on angel you: ugh fine you: this surprise better be worth it too asshole💖: ur gonna love it you: if the surprise is just ur dick i’m going to be so mad asshole💖: 😈 asshole💖: alsoooooooo asshole💖: wear something sexy

Flicking your eyes from the message on your phone screen, you look at the pair of sweatpants and thick jumper you’d rifled from your closet. Warm but definitely not sexy. You haphazardly throw them back into your cupboard before texting your boyfriend back.

you: fuck u asshole💖: don’t worry sweetheart, gonna fuck u so good

Twenty minutes later, you’re walking through the empty corridors of Tokyo Jujutsu High. Thick shafts of moonlight filter through the glass windows, the hoary effulgence your only source of light as you navigate through the school. The wintry air is crisp against your skin, the brittle wind seeping through the cracks of the window and nipping your naked flesh. Limbs trembling, you pull your boyfriend’s jacket closer to you—the article one of many he’d left in your room in the year you’ve been together—it’s warmth your only reprieve from the cold.

Other than Satoru’s jacket, you’re not wearing much else—just a skimpy lingerie set— and though his coat is warm, and oversized enough to cover you to mid-thigh, your outfit does little to shield you from the frigid weather. Nonetheless, with how you’re practically running across the campus grounds, you’ve built up enough heat to keep you warm. As thrilling as it is to walk around the deserted school grounds practically naked for a rendezvous with your boyfriend, you’d really rather not have one of your fellow faculty members—or god forbid, a student—catch you in your current state of dress.

It’s clear you’re not here to complete paperwork. More than that, no one in their right mind would be caught dead out and about in an outfit like this in the middle of winter. Sexy, but definitely not warm.

Thankfully, within moments, you arrive at the door to Satoru’s office and, with a brief knock, you enter. The second you do, however, you halt, a frown forming on your lips. Your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen. Eyebrows furrowed, your expression coloured with confusion, you approach his desk. The lights are dimmed low, a soft amber glow cast over the space. Your gaze flickers around and from the abandoned papers sprawled on Satoru’s desk, along with his jacket slung over the back of the chair, you know he has been here.

So where the fuck is he now?

Just as you move for your phone, you hear heavy footsteps echo across the hallway. Cocking your head to the side, you watch as Satoru enters his office, only to pause when he sees you. Your boyfriend seems to have abandoned his blindfold, lambent eyes of cerulean on display as they rake over you, a hum of appreciation rumbling through his chest as he takes in your outfit.

“Satoru,” you breathe heavily.

The sound of your voice has him moving once again, your breath hitching as he closes the distance, until he’s standing right in front of you.

“Satoru—” you choke out a second time, your throat tightening at the sight of his blown out pupils, the inky wells dilated with lust and obscuring the ethereal blue of his irises.

Your boyfriend simply hums again, the rich timbre of the sound reverberating through the air and straight to your core. Inadvertently, your thighs clench, molten desire pooling within the pits of your abdomen.

“So pretty in my clothing,” he murmurs, dark possessiveness overshadowing the lust in his eyes. His hand wraps around you, a gasp falling from your lips as he pulls your chest flush against his own, only to lift you up and perch you on the edge of his desk. In a smooth motion, he steps between your legs, your thighs instinctively spreading to make room for him.

You stare at him through the thick of your eyelashes and swallow thickly— an attempt to soothe your dry throat. “W-Where’s my surprise?” you finally ask, grimacing internally at the stutter in your voice.

It’s been a little over two weeks since you’ve seen Satoru—both of you passing each other like ships in the night. Whenever you were back from a mission, it’d seem like Satoru was scheduled on one, and vice versa. You have no idea if the higher-ups had purposely done it, but if you had to bet money on it, you’d bet that they had. The animosity between Satoru and them was no secret, and you wouldn’t put it past them to take out their frustration with him on your relationship.

Two weeks may seem like a short time, but you couldn’t deny just how much you missed him in those days, and reunited now, it was even more evident in the way your body ached for him, the way your pussy wept to be filled by him.

Running his glossy lips along the column of your throat, “You’ll have to wait for it,” Satoru murmurs before lightly nipping your flesh. A gasp of surprise slips through your mouth, your head falling to his shoulder before lolling to the side as you grant him further access. The heat between your thighs intensifies—your arousal dripping out of you and onto your thighs.

“I—I want it now,” you somehow manage to force out, your eyes fluttering as Satoru blooms bruises into your skin—his lips suckling and his teeth scraping your flesh. The hand around your waist drops to your hip and, gripping it, he pulls you further into him. Feeling the hard outline of his throbbing shaft, you let out a small moan; Satoru lowly chuckles.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he responds, his voice heavily laced with a taunt. The pet name drips from his lips, thick like honey and as sweet as sin. “You want it now?” he mimics. As he speaks, his hips buck forward, your mouth parting in a loud groan when his cock presses further against your core. Your pussy clenches at the sensation, your hands moving to grip Satoru’s shirt.

“T-Toru,” his name spills from your lips in a needy whimper, your hips thrusting forward to push against him. Your actions cause Satoru to laugh, the sound low and dark against your neck.

“Tell me, what is it you want?” Satoru taunts, a knowing lilt to his voice. You can’t see his face from the way it's buried into the delicate column of your throat. But you don’t need to see it, you can feel the shit-eating, teasing grin that paints his plump lips—in more ways than one.

A ripple of annoyance flutters through you at his cockiness. He has you exactly how he always does—wanton and desperate for him—and he knows it, feels it in the way you squirm under him. Hell, he could probably smell it, your arousal dripping out of you and onto your thighs, his desk, his crotch. You’d be damned if he had you this easy, he’d never let you live it down. Thus, gathering as much of your willpower, you allow a teasing smile to curl at your lips.

“I want my surprise, Gojo,” you purr out your demand, drawing out the syllables of his name in a sultry tone. When your voice comes out steady, you internally cheer. Instantly, Satoru lifts his head before harshly biting the soft flesh of your earlobe. The action tears a soft cry from your lips, Satoru’s fingers digging into the soft flesh at your hips, so hard you’re sure he’ll bruise his fingerprints into your skin.

“What did you just call me?” he questions, eyeing you with his unimpressed gaze.

“Gojo,” you goad once again. You stare at him with wide eyes, the faux innocence belied by a mischievous twinkle.

“You’ll regret that, baby,” Satoru sneers.

His long fingers move to push the hem of his jacket further up your thighs, uncovering more and more of your skin. With each inch of flesh revealed to his gaze, Satoru devours you, his grandidierite eyes following the movement of his hands up your legs. With a final push, Satoru bunches the hem of his coat around your hips, his hand slipping underneath the material. A guttural moan emanates from your throat when you feel his warm palm pressing hard against your abdomen.

Immediately, his hand begins trailing down until his fingers reach the waistband of your lace panties. He doesn’t bother divesting the coat from your body. Instead, he watches your face as his fingers dip under the elastic.

“Spread,” comes his command; his deep voice cutting sharply through the air.

You don’t have to be asked twice, your thighs immediately parting as you grant him better access to your folds, your pussy desperately aching for his touch.

“Someone’s being good,” Satoru chuckles.

Before you can retort, however, his hand darts further into your underwear, his fingers slipping between your folds and causing you to hiss at the sudden contact. Completely ignoring your clit, Satoru’s fingers begin softly massaging your soaked, puffy lips—the pads of his middle and pointer finger rubbing against either fold of your sex.

“S’toru,” you gasp, your eyes fluttering as you feel him play with your folds.

“Aww, is my baby all swollen and needy? Have you missed my cock in you, princess?” Satoru jeers, a lopsided smirk on his face.

Your nose wrinkles at the taunt. “F-Fuck you,” you stammer.

In a flash, Satoru’s hand moves, his pointer finger and thumb swiftly pinching your swollen clit. The sudden pain, mixed with pleasure, has you crying out, your hand shooting to grip his arm as you dig your nails into its flesh.

“Such a fucking brat, aren’t you, sweetheart,” Satoru practically spits out the endearment. “But it’s all for show, isn’t it? I know how much you want me, know how much of a desperate little cockslut you really are for me,” he continues with a hiss. Thighs trembling, you mew out your disagreement, though the high-pitched, needy inclination of your voice gives you away in an instant.

In indolent movements, Satoru circles the outline of your clit with his fingertip, lightly rolling it under his touch. Whining at the action, you feel your pussy clench around nothing; a gush of wetness floods out of you and down your thighs.

Moving his fingers through your slit, Satoru smirks. His gaze firmly locked on yours, he runs his long, nimble fingers through your cunt, gathering as much of your wetness onto them as he can. Then, travelling further down, he comes into contact with your rippling entrance. Satoru lets out a soft coo when he feels the slick, heated hole.

“God, you’re already so wet. Bet I could slide my cock into this tight little hole right now if I wanted to, bet you’d take it all like a well-trained whore,” he derisively sneers.

Reflexively, your pussy begins to pulsate, twitching around his fingers. The pads of his pointer and middle finger press against your entrance—just enough pressure to draw your attention to it, but not enough to press into you. No matter how much you buck into his hand.

“Oh? I can feel this pretty cunt twitch, baby. Is that what you want? To feel my fat cock slide into this little hole and fuck it open?” Satoru jeers, emphasising his words by sliding two fingers into you.

Pliant in your state of lust, the walls of your cunt easily spread open around his digits, the ringed muscles contracting and sucking him deeper into your velvet depths. Your forehead drops to rest on his chest in response, a low keen escaping your chest when you feel his fingers thrust inside you. Unrelenting, Satoru pushes them deeper and deeper—the motion incredibly slow and deliberate, making you feel every centimetre of his fingers, until he’s pushed them hilt-deep.

“P-please,” you stutter out, your hips grinding into his hand as you try to get him to move.

“Look at me, baby. I want to see how fucked out you are just for my fingers,” Satoru commands.

Unable to disobey, you shift your head and look up at him through the thick of your eyelashes. Gaze locked onto your own, Satoru groans at the turbulent, heady lust clearly visible in your eyes. Pleased by your obedience, he begins leisurely thrusting his fingers into you, the digits wriggling inside you with every plunge. Soft whimpers fall from your lips, your fingers curling around Satoru’s arm tighter as you moan in pleasure.

“Shit—Look at you. Look at the way you’re fucking into my hand. Needy bitch,” Satoru laughs lowly. And sure enough, you grind against his palm, your ass rocking onto his fingers. Swivelling your hips, you thrust into him harder—your cunt walls pulsating as your pussy tries to swallow his fingers deeper. However, all of a sudden, Satoru’s pulling his hand out of your panties, his fingers pulling out of your cunt and leaving you feeling empty all of a sudden.

“No!” you sob, your hips bucking wildly in an attempt to chase his fingers. Softly, Satoru hushes you, pressing soothing kisses against your neck—even as he keeps his hand between your thighs—his fingers rubbing your nether lips and wiping your slick onto them. Pulling away from your sex, he brings his fingers to your lips.

“Awww baby, it’s okay. I’ll ruin that sweet little cunt soon. Fuck you so good, you’ll be crying on my cock,” Satoru cajoles.

“Toru—Toru, please,” you whine, your hips squirming over his desk. You should feel ashamed, you know you should, with the way your pussy is leaking all over his desk. Yet, you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when the emptiness in your cunt aches to be filled up.

“Yeah, baby? Want me to fill you up nice and tight with my cock? Want me to cum inside till you’re leaking?” he taunts. The sinfulness of his words has you releasing another gush of arousal, the walls of your pussy tightening around nothing as you feel the dull ache return with a vengeance. Brushing his fingers against your lips, he paints them in your own essence.

“Suck,” Satoru orders as he pushes the digits into your mouth and onto your tongue. Reflexively, you wrap your mouth around the appendages, licking off your own arousal—the heady flavour heavy on your tongue. Satoru hums in approval. Then, he’s stepping away, his fingers slipping from your mouth.

With laboured breaths, you watch as he steps away from you and towards his chair. Eyes glued to his figure, you watch as he takes a seat, his thighs spreading out to accommodate his lengthy legs. In his new position, you can clearly see the way his trousers tent—his indurated cock straining within the confines of his jeans. Staring at you with lust-filled eyes, Satoru beckons you over to him with a crook of his fingers, and on wobbly legs, you walk over to him. When you’re a few feet in front of him, Satoru raises his palm—stopping you in your tracks.

Hand falling down to his side, “Take off my coat,” he orders.

Obediently, you comply. Your fingers move to unfasten the buttons of his jacket, hastily undoing each one before you clasp the material in your hands and shrug it off. The moment your figure comes into view, Satoru’s jaw clenches—the corner muscles flexing.

“Fuck,” Satoru breathes out.

Deliberately, his dark gaze wanders over you—practically feasting on your figure as he drinks you in. Pale blue and black lace cling to your skin; the skimpy material doing nothing to shield you from his predatory glower.

“Come here, pretty girl,” your boyfriend calls out to you. You hop off the desk and close the short distance, stopping when you’re between Satoru’s thick, spread thighs.

“Fuck, baby. Is this a new set? I’ve never seen it before,” he asks, his eyes trailing over your body.

With a teasing smirk, you look down at him. He’s asked you to dress sexy, so you have. Thankfully, you’d had this little piece hidden away, bought after one of your recent missions in Ginza. It was also one of the few pieces you hadn’t shown Satoru yet, something you were grateful for now. It’s a pretty set—made of a mix of delicate lace and soft satin. Of course, it had cost a small fortune—but it’d been worth every yen.

The cups are made of see-through baby blue lace—clearly revealing your hardened nipples as they poke against the material—while the thin straps are made of black satin, each wrapping around your rib cage and breasts like a harness, while a thicker one reaches from between your breasts to wrap around your neck like a choker. The panties are designed in a similar manner—thin, barely-there lace covering your sex while multiple black satin straps sit on your upper hips—just under your waist. You completed the look with a pair of black garters and stockings, the black suspenders clinging onto the lace tops of your thigh highs.

Definitely sexy, just like he’d asked.

“Mhm, do you like it?” you ask before twirling.

All of a sudden, with your back turned towards him, you feel Satoru’s hands grip your hips—halting you in your movements. Lips curling into a devious glint, you know your boyfriend’s seen the best part of this set. You’re glad he was more preoccupied with the way your cunt had felt against his fingers earlier—otherwise, you’re sure he would have realised sooner.

“Fuck are these—” Satoru breathes out, his voice a little strained as he stares at your ass. Turning around and looking at him over your shoulder, your eyes flash with playful delight.

“Crotchless? Mhm,” you hum in response. Satoru sucks in a sharp breath, and instantly, he’s pressing against the lower curve of your spine, pushing you to bend over in front of him.

The movement causes your ass to spread slightly, the thick bands of lace resting against fleshy cheeks pulling apart in tandem. Hissing at the sight, Satoru’s hands grip your ass before his thumbs press against the lower part of your cheeks: spreading the globes and further revealing your sex to him. A strangled moan slips from his throat, his eyes trailing from your ass to your slit, watching as the two thick pieces of fabric turn narrow, resting in the junction of either of your thighs before attaching to the thicker material that he knows covers your mons pubis.

You feel his heavy gaze rest against your ass and, with his hands spreading your cheeks, you know you’re completely on display for his viewing pleasure. Growing wetter against his gaze, you feel him move one of his thumbs from your ass, the other holding you open wider, while he brushes the pad through your soaked slit. A soft moan slips past your throat at the gentle touch, his thumb lightly dipping into your messy hole.

“Sexy enough?” you innocently question. Then, lowering your voice a couple of decibels, “It’s got easy access,” you purr.

Instantly, you feel your boyfriend spank your ass—hard. Heat sears across your skin, a cry tearing through your lips at the sudden strike. Flesh smarting with pain, you feel your boyfriend’s thick lips press against the tender skin: lavishing it with soothing kisses.

“Easy access? God, you’re such a dirty fucking slut. I should spank your pretty ass raw for being such a filthy, depraved whore,” Satoru sneers. His words cause you to clench around his thumb.

“Oh? Do you like that sweetheart? You want me to spank you?” Satoru taunts, pushing his thumb deeper into your dripping hole. Eagerly, you nod, bucking your hips back into him at the prospect. Leaning forward, he presses a tender kiss to the base of your spine, the soft touch making you sigh heavily.

“Oh, I know you do, baby. You’re such a desperate little pain slut,” Satoru says. Then all of a sudden, he’s bringing his hand over your bare ass cheek. Sharp pain flares across your ass, causing you to whimper out his name. When he brings his palm onto your ass, lightly gripping and caressing it soothingly, you let out another deep sigh. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” Satoru coos.

Abruptly, he’s pushing you away. Stumbling forward, you manage to catch yourself, your palms bracing against Satoru’s desk—your boyfriend holding onto your hip to steady you, before he turns you around once more so you can watch him. Through lust-fogged eyes—your thighs rubbing against each other in a bid to alleviate the intense ache between them—you follow the way he unbuckles his jeans: a ripple of anticipation thrumming through you. Time passes slowly, and it feels like Satoru can’t move quick enough. Eventually, he pulls his cock out from under his jeans, a low whimper falling from your throat when you see it.

Perhaps it’s just that you haven’t seen it in a while—but, somehow, he looks bigger than usual. With a thick, angry pink head: the bulbous tip leaking precum, and a swollen shaft: long, thick and ridged with dusky-rose veins, you can’t help the way your mouth waters. Eyes fixated on him, you watch as he runs his large hands over his cock, swallowing thickly as it pulses in his hold. When he runs his thumb over his own tip, covering it in his own precum, you let out a pained whimper—your cunt aching to be filled by him.

“Is this what you want, baby?” Satoru asks sweetly whilst lazily palming his cock. Swiftly, you nod, your hand shooting out to grip his member. The moment you move, Satoru tuts and smacks your hand lightly.

“Satoru,” you whine, once again reaching for his cock. Again, Satoru tuts and bats your hand away.

“I didn’t say you could touch, sweetheart,” he reprimands while clicking his tongue. “In fact…” Satoru continues.

The moment he drawls out the words, you feel an inkling of despair, paired with excitement, course through you. Indolently stroking his cock, your eyes following the movement surreptitiously.

“You’re not allowed to touch at all, do you understand me, princess?” he commands, practically purring. Hearing the words, your face immediately falls—petulance etched across your features.

“Noooo, Toru,” you whine, a pout curling onto your lips. Your fingers twitch to touch him. it’s been so long, you want—no, need—to feel it. Hand shooting out, it moves to curl around his thick shaft. However, anticipating the movement, Satoru brings his hand down onto your thigh hard, causing you to mewl in pain.

“I said no,” Satoru hisses, his voice low, and dangerous.

Whimpering, you squirm harder. However, with how slick your thighs are—covered in a light sheen of your own wetness—the movement does nothing to alleviate your wanton neediness. A broken sob falls from your lip; Satoru moves his hands to your hips and pulls you closer. Dipping his head down, he runs his nose along the length of your torso: from just under your breasts, to the top of your mound. He places a tender kiss against the waistband of your underwear—his supple lips causing your flesh to tingle with pleasure.

“I told you to be good for me, baby. Don’t you want to be good for me?” Satoru taunts. An impertinent retort sits at the tip of your tongue, but you bite it down; mainly because you’re desperate to feel his cock in you—or even on you at this point.

“I’ll be good,” you murmur back.

Satoru smiles against your skin, and with a soft kiss, paired with a hum of approval, he pulls away. Then, in one fluid motion, he pushes his thigh between your legs before bringing your hips down onto them. Hissing through your teeth at the movement, your cunt clenches around nothing—the rough, hard fabric of his jeans pressing against your aching pussy. Satoru lets out a soft grunt, his thigh twitching slightly as he feels the heat of your core seep through the denim.

“God—you’re so hot. And so fucking wet…” Satoru murmurs through gritted teeth. The rough denim against your bare, swollen folds has you whimpering, and before he can say anything, you’re already fidgeting over his thighs.

“Depraved little slut. Does it feel good, baby? Hmmm, I bet it does… finally having something other than yourself touch your needy pussy,” Satoru taunts, a wry grin on his face. Eagerly, you nod, your hips moving harder.

Suddenly, he spanks your thigh, making you cry out his name. The flesh blooming with pain from the sharp impact, Satoru soothingly runs his palms up and down your thigh. “Now, I want you to be good, sweetheart. Can you do that?” Satoru asks, his voice coming out in a deep hum.

Hastily nodding, “I’ll be good,” you repeat once again.

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Satoru chuckles, knowing that your obedient streak would run out sooner or later. “Now, here’s what I want you to do… I want you to ride my thigh,” Satoru commands.

You mewl in pleasure, nodding eagerly once again. You’ll ride his thigh for the rest of the night if it means he finally plays with you. Then, after a brief pause, and with a borderline sadistic smile, “But I want you to keep your hands to yourself,” Satoru finishes.

Despair washes through you at that.

“Satoru, that’s not fair. P-Please. W-Wanna feel you,” you whimper out in protest.

“I know you do, baby. But this is your punishment for behaving like a little brat. How many times did I have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself, hmm? How many times have you called me Gojo, huh baby?” Satoru snarks. The deep baritone of his voice resounds through his office and involuntarily, your stomach twists.

“I’m sooory,” you whine out your apology.

Satoru chuckles darkly. His hand moves to your hip, and dipping it between your thighs, he lazily brushes it against your exposed clit. Crying out, you begin rocking over his thigh—your eyes fluttering open and shut as he continues stroking your clit with featherlight movements.

“Oh, I bet you are, sweetheart. I bet you’re soo sorry,” Satoru coos, and if you didn’t know your boyfriend better, you’d believe the false sympathy in his voice.

However, you do know better, and you’re proven right a few brief seconds after, when that same sympathy disappears. All of a sudden, Satoru flicks your clit hard, his fingernail scraping against the sensitive bud. You cry out, pleasure blurring your vision as your head falls back.

“But I told you you’d regret it, didn’t I?” Satoru laughs wryly, a sardonic smile curling at his glossy lips. “So, now, you’ll ride my thigh and watch me play with myself knowing you can’t touch. I think that’s fair, don’t you, baby?”

It’s not often that anyone would call Satoru sweet, but to you, he is. He’s sweet, and loving, and gives into every single one of your whims. But Satoru’s dominance is not to be tested—and you know that he won’t budge—no matter how much you whine or beg. At least, not until he’s sure you’re at your wit’s end.

Spanking your thigh suddenly, “I asked you a question, princess, I expect an answer,” Satoru hisses.

“Y-Yes, Toru. That’s fair,” you snivel.

It’s not. You know it’s not.

And every part of you wants to rebel, to scream that no, it’s not fair and you want to touch him, need to touch him.

Nevertheless, you know that will only result in Satoru punishing you with something worse. More than that, you’re too caught up in how good the coarse fabric of his jeans feels against your naked, sopping cunt.

“Good girl. Now, ride,” Satoru purrs as he leans back in the leather chair.

Yielding to his dominance, you gyrate your cunt against his thighs, your hands falling to grip your own—your fingers twitching to touch him. Whiny gasps and moans fall from your lips; the abrasiveness of his jeans causes you to cry out in pleasure. His thigh is thick between yours, your clit dragging across the length as you try to press it harder into him. With every movement of your hips, you leave broad trails of slick over his jeans—the thick material covered in a light coating of arousal. Though, with each motion of your hips, the fabric grows wetter.

From his reclined position, Satoru simply watches the way you move: your hips swivelling and your stomach writhing enticingly as you do your best to grind over him. Captivated by your erotic motions, Satoru begins palming at his heavy length. Lazily, he strokes his pulsating member—rhythmically squeezing it whenever you get to his tip. Mushroom tip leaking translucent beads of precum, he swipes at his slit every now and then, coating his thumb in the sticky substance as he wets his dick with his own arousal.

Seeing his movement, you let out a soft whimper; your mouth watering. You’d give anything—anything—to feel his cock. Plagued by the way it pulses in his large hands—how the angry bulbous head leaks all over him—your movements become more feverish: each motion a little faster, or harsher than the previous one.

Meanwhile, Satoru’s lust-darkened gaze trails down your body, stopping when he gets to your chest. Within the confines of your bra, your nipples are twisted hard—the buds straining against the lace mesh of the cup. A large part of him wants to remove the bra and tease your nipples until you’re begging him to cum—but he can’t deny just how undeniably good it looks on you, the sight of the baby blue and black material against your skin causing his cock to throb painfully in his hand. So, instead, he reaches out and lightly brushes his thumb against your covered nipple.

“Fuck,” you cry out, your fingernails digging into your thighs as you shudder over him.

Nonetheless, repeatedly, Satoru begins swiping his thumb over your nipples—dragging them under his pad—while his other hand leisurely strokes his own shaft. Almost painfully tightened to hardness, each of his movements has your sensitive nipples brushing against the coarse material of your bra, the sensation only heightening your pleasure. Briefly, you pause your motions, simply sitting on his thigh as your cunt erratically clenches, while you relish in the way he teases your hardened bud.

God, you desperately need to touch him.

In an instant, Satoru pinches the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, before twisting it painfully. A sharp thrum of stinging pain shoots from your breast and straight to your core: your cunt clenching and releasing a gush of wetness at the pain.

“Did I say you could stop, sweetheart?” Satoru hisses, his pretty features twisted into a domineering sneer.

Despite his words, the pain has you arching into his hold, a moan of ecstasy emanating from your throat as you wordlessly beg for more. Satoru growls, and twists your nipple harder this time; his fingers pulling the hardened peak painfully.

“Don’t be a fucking brat. I told you to move,” he scolds.

Having had enough of your own obedience, petulance rises in your chest, and for a moment, you don’t do anything—simply looking at him, defiance rife within your eyes. Seeing the mischievous spark, Satoru raises a single eyebrow at you.

He trails his hand up your chest, his hand splaying against your sternum before he wraps it around your throat. The thick lace band of the bra’s choker pulls tighter against your throat, Satoru’s warm fingers simultaneously flexing around your neck. With his hand spread over your throat, he tenderly brushes his lips against yours. Then, pulling your lip between his teeth, he nips at the soft petal.

“Do you really want to be a brat now, princess? When you’re so close to cumming?” Satoru’s sweet voice breaks the silence; his breath wafting against your lower face.

He doesn’t say it explicitly, but the warning is there: as clear as day. If you don’t obey him, he won’t let you cum. The threat of your boyfriend edging you has your eyes widening. Usually, you would push him more—loving nothing more than when your boyfriend punishes you by pushing you to your limits. But it’s been so long since you’ve had him that you’re sure if he edges you even once, you’ll go insane, each of your brain cells fried by ravenous lust. You already can’t touch him—the restraint driving you crazy. So, instead of challenging him further, you begin moving on top of him again.

“That’s my good girl,” Satoru praises, his head dropping so he can brush his thick lips against the outline of your collarbone.

The appraising action has you mewling—and unable to help yourself—you drop your head; your nose buries in his thick hair as you breathe him in.

“Come on, sweet girl, don’t you wanna cum?” Satoru asks as he purposely tenses his thigh. His ministration causes his muscle to contract to hardness, the tense flesh pressing against your swollen clit.

The action draws a deep, guttural groan from you and you begin moving over him again. Not having had a decent orgasm in over two weeks—the orgasms you wring from your fingers or your toys nowhere near the blissful intensity of the ones Satoru reaps from you—you can already feel your stomach begin to twist; the dull heat intensifying into a searing vengeance.

Your eyes drop to where Satoru is once again playing with his own cock, palming at the heavy length in long, slow strokes. Mouth drying at the sight, you can’t resist any longer. Hand shooting out, you press your palm against his length and caress it. The moment you feel it—thick and pulsating—under your touch, you whimper needily.

Instantly, Satoru pinches your nipple—twisting and pulling it harshly. Pain flares around your breast, the stinging sensation causing your entrance to quiver and release another gush of wetness onto his jeans.

“What did I say?” Satoru hisses out.

“Please,” you whine, your hand reaching out to stroke him again. However, batting your hand away, Satoru lets out a low growl.

“Hands to yourself or I’ll tie them up,” Satoru warns through grit teeth.

Pausing for a moment, your throat constricts as you imagine being bound and at the mercy of your angry, dominant boyfriend. A thrum of excitement flitting through you, you simply quirk your eyebrow. Then, with a mischievous smile curling on your face, “You have nothing to tie me up with,” you purr out, a challenging twinkle sparkling in your eyes.

“I don’t need something to restrain you, princess,” Satoru spits out.

Then, as if to prove a point, he’s twisting your hands behind your back. Eyes widening at the sudden movement, he leaves you no room to react, one of his strong hands already gripping both your wrists in his hold. Wildly, you thrash against him, trying to release your wrists from his hold. However, Satoru is much stronger than you, the strongest, and his fingers curl around your wrists tightly in a warning.

“Toruuu,” you whine out, and moving your thigh up, you brush your knee against his cock. The unexpected movement has Satoru hissing; his grip around your wrists loosens. Using the opportunity, you break away from his hold before palming at his cock. Swiftly, you run your hand along the entire length, high-pitched keens resounding from your mouth as you relish in the velvet feel of it.

All of a sudden, Satoru spanks your thigh. In a swift motion, he buries his hand into the pocket of his jeans, before pulling out his crumpled blindfold. Your eyes widen at the fabric, and swiftly, Satoru has your hands behind your back—his fingers expertly moving to bind your wrists. Ferociously, you struggle against his hold, doing your best to prevent him from restraining your hands, but Satoru is used to your disobedience, and without much trouble, he has you tied up.

“N-No. No, wanna touch you,” you whimper out, your knee once again rising to brush against his cock. However, anticipating the movement, Satoru brings both his hands onto your thighs—holding them down with his strong grip.

“I said no. Now, I’m willing to let this slide—I know you’re desperate to touch me. But if you disobey me again, I won’t let you cum. Are we clear, princess?” Satoru hisses in a warning.

With your hands bound behind your wrists, you pout. Momentarily, you try struggling again against the binding; however, the knotted material only tightens, making you whimper.

“What did I say, sweetheart? Are you going to try disobeying? Or do you want to cum?” Satoru growls.

You pull your lip between your teeth, gnawing at it as you contemplate your next decision. Again, you want to disobey—you want him to punish you until you can’t take it anymore. However, the overwhelming need to cum overtakes your brattish tendency, and giving in to him, you submit once more.

“I want to cum. I’ll be good,” you mumble out. The corners of his lips pull into a smile, and Satoru leans forward to brush them against yours in appraisal.

“That’s my good girl. See, you do know how to behave,” Satoru hums. Preening under his praise, you nod, your thighs twitching. “Come on, baby, ride me,” Satoru urges, his hands softly massaging the flesh of your thighs.

Wrists flexing around your restraint, you let out a series of short cries and whimpers—your hips moving against him once again. One of your boyfriend’s hands moves to grip your hip, the other wanders up your body to leisurely toy with your nipple—pinching and tugging it through the lace of your bra.

The hand resting on your hip grips you, his fingers digging almost bruisingly into your pelvis as he helps you grind on him. Harder and harder, you rock on top of him: dragging your swollen, aching cunt over the entire length of his thigh as you chase your own pleasure. It’s been so long since you’ve had Satoru play with you like this that even the rough friction of his jeans against your swollen clit is going to have you cumming.

Dark eyes falling to where your thigh clenches his, your cunt moving on him, Satoru lets out a hiss. Fingers tightening on your hips, “That’s it. Good little whore. Get yourself off on my thigh. Look at you, you’re so fucking soaked I can feel you drench my jeans. Desperate fucking cockslut,” Satoru spits out. His words have you whimpering; your pussy involuntarily clenches around nothing—the contraction only serving to emphasise the emptiness of your walls.

Eyes dropping to his cock, you let out a low mew. Left untouched, it stands erect, pressed against his abdomen as it continues leaking into the cotton of his shirt. Imperceptibly, it pulses—the prominent veins pulsing every time blood is pumped to the thick, swollen shaft.

“S’toru, please. P-Please. W-Want your c-cock,” you stammer out as you begin moving in a more frenzied manner.

Humming noncommittally, Satoru presses his thumb against your nipple before rolling it in one tight circle. The ministration has you mewling his name, your spine tingling with pleasure.

“Is that right, sweet girl? Are you already that desperate for my cock? Do you want me to sink into that tight cunt? Feel my cock stretch open that tiny, needy little hole as you cum around me? Is that what you want, baby?” Satoru taunts. His voice is sweet—mellifluous and syrupy. Yet, there’s a darker undercurrent to it, a sinful undertone of dominance that causes your stomach to flip.

“Oh fuck—fuck yes… Toru, I want it. I want it so bad, please,” you beg over him.

Satoru lets out a dark chuckle, his hand moving from your hip to grip your ass. Large palm splaying across the plump flesh, he grips it in his hold before rolling and palming at the muscle.

Satoru hums.

“But I don’t think you can take it, sweetheart. It’s been so long since I’ve fucked that sweet little cunt. Mmmm… that’s right, your tiny pussy is probably too tight to take my fat cock now,” Satoru taunts. Swiftly, you shake your head, your head dropping to his shoulder as you sob out his name.

“I can take it. I can! I want to feel you stretch me out. Toru, please. I want it—want you to ruin my cunt and fuck it open, please,” you wail, pleading with him over and over again; your hips writhing wildly on his thigh.

“Needy fucking whore. God, you’re so fucking desperate,” Satoru hisses

Sitting up in the chair, he pulls your chest against his—both his hands falling to hold your ass—helping you move harder over him. His head dips into the curve of your throat, his nose running up the flesh until his plump lips tease your earlobe.

“Did you miss my cock, baby? Did you miss how good it feels when I slide into that tight little pussy? How I push into that little hole, stretch it open before fucking you hard and deep? I know I did. I missed feeling your dirty little cunt milk my cock,” Satoru groans out.

You let out a shuddering sob, your eyes screwed shut as his deep, melodious, throaty voice reverberates through your eardrum. Nodding against his shoulder, you whine out his name—his words only causing the emptiness of your pussy to intensify.

“You’re already so wet you’ve completely soaked my jeans, you know. I bet you’ll soak my cock just as well—get it nice and wet and messy so I can fuck you hard and fast and rough. Just the way you like—just the way you deserve,” Satoru continues taunting.

Gasping for air, you bury your forehead further into his shoulder, wishing that you could wrap your arms around his shoulders and cling to him.

Between laboured breaths, “S-S’toru… wanna cum… please,” you heave out.

The hands grasping your ass moves to spread your cheeks, his fingers dipping between them. Indolently, he strokes the pads through your wet slit, gathering up your wetness onto them, before trailing up to circle the puckered rim off your ass. Feeling his fingers tease your asshole, you let out a sharp cry, your back arching in pleasure. You push harder against him, shifting your weight so you can grind your clit into the top of his thigh.

The hard material repetitively brushes your throbbing, engorged clit—forcing tingles of heated pleasure to prickle at your skin. Every writhing motion, every time you squirm over him, you climb higher and higher to the brink of your own pleasure. Continuously, Satoru teases your asshole—his slick fingers tauntingly circling the outline of your rim.

When you whine in pleasure, “God, I missed how much of a slut you are for me. Missed how eager you are to take me into any hole,” Satoru admits, his voice thick with torrid hunger. He pushes his finger against the ring of muscles, applying just enough force to tease your asshole, but not enough to push through. The pressure against your ass has the emptiness of your pussy flaring up.

“M-Missed you too. P-Please, Toru… N-Need… Need something,” you force out.

You’re so incredibly close—teetering on the precipice of your orgasm as you ride his thigh. Rocking harder onto him, you grind your clit into his leg, trying to force your own orgasm. Sparks of pleasure jolt across your spine, and you let out a low moan as you feel your end near. However, just before you can fall off of the edge, Satoru lifts you off of him. Swiftly, without any friction against your clit, the intensity of your orgasm fades; the searing heat in your stomach dwindling into a dull ache.

“N-No. You said I could cum! Please! I’m being good!” you sob out in protest, fighting against his strength as you attempt to continue riding his thigh. Tears sting at your eyes, your vision blurring slightly.

Hand coming down onto your thigh sharply, “Not yet. You’ll cum when I say so,” Satoru scolds.

Shaking your head, you scrunch your eyes, a single tear rolling down your cheek, and wail in objection, “But you said! You said I could cum! Satoru, please! I’m being good.”

“Then continue being good and I’ll let you cum. Be patient, princess,” Satoru admonishes. Whimpering as you continue writhing in his hold, Satoru’s strength keeps you from pressing against his thigh again. His hand falls onto his cock, and wrapping around the base, he lifts it up.

He drags his palm over his shaft, till he gets to the weepy tip. Then, swiping his thumb against the head, he coats the pad of his appendage in the sticky wetness of his arousal. Your throat constricts, watching as stringy ropes of precum cling to his thumb. Satoru tears his hand away, and bringing it up to your lips, he swipes it against your lip. Your eyes flutter shut at the movement, Satoru painting your mouth in his essence. Helpless under the action, you poke out your tongue and lick your lips, keening as his heady flavour taints your tongue.

“Filthy cockslut,” Satoru purrs, a praising lilt to his voice. “Do I taste good?” he coos while pressing his thumb between your lips.

Feeling the weight of it on your tongue, his arousal bathing your taste buds, you moan. Instinctively, your tongue roves over his digit, your eyes slipping shut as you relish in his heavy taste. Eventually, Satoru pulls it out, only to swipe at your swollen, precum stained lips.

“That’s my good slut,” your boyfriend praises.

Dropping his hand to his cock, he grips the shaft and holds it up once again. His other hand shoots to your hips and pulls you so you’re straddling both his thighs. With your legs spread open, Satoru drags his cockhead through your puffy folds. Crying out in pleasure, your head falls back; your hips instinctively squirming on top of him.

“Want it, S’toru,” you mumble, your hips swivelling in a circle.

Moving over him, you drag your slit across the velvet head of his cock, trying to position it at your aching entrance. With every second that passes, your walls throb tortuously—the emptiness of them only heightening as Satoru continues to teasingly drag his cockhead through your folds. When his tip catches on your entrance, your cunt rippling around him involuntarily, you both gasp.

His eyes fixated on where his cock strokes through your cunt, Satoru simply watches. Thick, filmy strings of your arousal drip from your pussy—hanging in the air and over his hand and cock in gooey ropes. Each and every time he swipes his head through your slit, you release another gush of wetness, until his entire shaft is coated in your arousal. The stickiness of your sex is only aided further by his own wetness—his precum gathering in thick globs around his slit—and with every drag, he only coats your cunt in his own arousal.

“Fucking shit, you’re so fucking messy. Look down, baby, look at how your needy cunt soaks my cock,” Satoru urges. With a keening moan, your gaze drops to where his cock presses against your pussy.

Gripping his cock harder, he positions it at your clit and—when you feel him press his head against your throbbing, engorged clit—you can’t help but let out a strangled moan. Satoru lets out a low hiss, the hardened bundle of nerves throbbing intoxicatingly against his slit. The surreptitious motion stimulates his cock, causing more of his precum to leak out. Moaning in ecstasy, you feel your throat tighten when his warm arousal drips over your clit, coating the swollen bud in more of his stickiness. Squirming over him, you begin rocking your clit against his tip, dragging it back and forth as you try to stimulate yourself.

“That’s it, be a good cockslut and rub that pretty little cunt over me. Get it nice and wet so I can fuck open your wet pussy,” Satoru orders.

Mewling in pleasure, you do as he says, repeatedly grinding your throbbing bud into his oozing cockhead. Agonisingly, the entrance to your cunt quivers—your entire sex weeping for him to fill you up.

“Fuck me,” you gasp out. Satoru only hums noncommittally, moving both hands to grip at your hips.

“Hmmm, I don’t think you’re ready. I don’t think you want it enough,” Satoru purrs—the low vibrations of his voice shooting straight to your core. Shaky breaths falling from your lips, you squirm harder on top of him.

“I do! I want it so bad. S’toru, please, fuck me. Want to feel your cock in me,” you croon desperately.

Dark chuckles resounding through the air, the sound heavy with dominance, Satoru positions his cock at your entrance. Feeling him press his cock against your entrance—just enough to tease, but not enough to enter you—you cry out in pleasure. Responsively, the tight rings of muscles clench, trying to pull him further into you.

Laughingly lowly, “God, I can feel your tight little cunt clenching. Are you desperate for my cock, pretty girl?” Satoru asks, the inflexion of his voice dripping with taunt.

“Yes. Yes. Want it,” you reply, unhesitant.

Pressing his cock harder against your entrance, Satoru grips your hips tightly, preventing you from sinking his cock into you. Desirous mews and whimpers fall from your lips; tears sting your eyes as your boyfriend continues to tease you. Every passing moment has the heat in your stomach growing wilder and wilder—until wanton desire courses through your bloodstream, overtaking your entire being.

“Are you sure, baby? You want it?” Satoru coos, the taunt heavy in your voice.

He drops his head to your chest, his lips wrapping around your bra-clad nipple. Lazily, your boyfriend laves at the hardened bud—wetting the fabric of your bra as he teases your nipple. His action draws a hoarse cry from deep within your throat; your voice cracks for a moment.

“Yes. Yes. Please. Please, I’ll do anything, Toru, please,” you gasp out, your hips once again squirming on top of him. Satoru chuckles lowly, the sound laced with a sinister inclination.

“Anything? Are you sure, baby?” Satoru questions.

The mischievous intonation of his voice should alarm you, and if your mind wasn’t hazed with desire, if you weren’t so incredibly fucked out and desperate, it would have. But right now, driven to the brink of insanity by Satoru’s teasing, you can’t bring yourself to care. It doesn’t matter what he has in store for you, doesn’t matter what Satoru choose to do, you’ll take anything he gives you and more; especially if it means Satoru fucks you right here, right now.

“Yes. Yes. Please. Anything. Anything, Toru, please just fuck me,” you sob, your dry throat straining to force the words out.

“You have no idea what you’re getting into, do you, sweet girl?” Satoru questions. However, you barely register his words. Instead, pleasure thrums through your breast—the vibrations of Satoru’s words shooting straight to your core.

“Don’t care! Don’t care. Fuck me. Want your cock. Toru, please, just fuck me. Please. Please, please, please,” you repeat over and over again.

Arms struggling behind your back, you futilely tug at the restraints as you try to free yourself. At least if they were free you could hold onto his shoulders and fuck yourself onto his cock. You feel Satoru smirk against your tit, and then suddenly, he’s pushing your hips down. Feeling the intense pressure of his flared cockhead against your entrance, your mouth drops open in a silent scream.

Satoru was right, you weren’t ready for him—because two weeks may not seem like a long time, but it is. It is when he’s huge—ridiculously long and absurdly thick—and you’re far too small to take him when you haven’t felt him stretch you out in days. And it’s been so long that despite how wet you are, how wet his cock is, he still struggles to open you out. Nonetheless, unrelentingly, Satoru presses into you—his hands pushing your hips down onto his cock—and eventually, he pops into you.

The moment his head breaches your walls—you throw your head back and let out a strangled wail. He’s incredibly thick inside you, the ringed muscles that make up your entrance pulled thin around him. Eyes slipping shut, you moan in a mix of pain and pleasure, relishing in the delicious burn of him stretching you out. Ruthlessly, he pushes the rest of him into you, ignoring your cries of ‘Too much’ and ‘Slower’ as the taut flesh of your inner walls is forcibly pulled apart around his hard length. Thich inch by inch, he fucks his cock into you; refusing to stop until he’s buried into the hilt. Then, roughly pulling your hips onto him, he sinks the last few inches into you in one sudden movement—burying himself into your cunt to the hilt.

Wired beyond belief, pleasure consumes you, the veined ridges of his cock hitting every erogenous spot inside your cunt.  When the blunt tip of his cockhead hits the back of your supple cervix, a high-pitched wail tears through you. Toes curling, your thighs begin trembling violently as you suddenly cum around his cock. Back contorting violently, your fingers grip your own wrists behind your back as you sob out his name. Orgasm rocketing through you out of the blue, you vehemently convulse over your boyfriend. Over and over again, you cry out his name, twisting and writhing as blinding ecstasy courses through you. It’s been so long since you’ve had a decent orgasm, that the intensity of your first one has your vision blurring, thick tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Fucking cockslut,” Satoru hisses. “Did you just cum from being fucked open on my cock? Fuck—you got so much tighter,” Satoru harshly grunts out.

Then, without waiting any longer, he begins fucking into you from underneath. Gripping at your hips, he rams his cock upward, pulling you down harshly onto him. With each motion, your own orgasm is drawn out—making you cry out his name loud, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Cunt rippling around him, you milk his shaft—Satoru forcing himself into your erratically tightening and untightening walls. Viciously, you convulse as you cum over your boyfriend; Satoru groans when thick rivulets of your cum begin flowing down his cock. The additional wetness adds to the mess between your thighs, and only aids his motions, his cock slippery enough to batter into you.

Through it all, you let the tide of our orgasm wash through you, drifting on its wave of euphoria as it drowns you in nothing but utter, unadulterated ecstasy. Reduced to a sobbing, quivering mess on top of your boyfriend, you heave for air as you try to satiate the burn in your lungs. Ceaselessly, however, Satoru fucks into you—refusing to give you any reprieve from his cock.

Coming down from your high, you whine as you feel the blunt head of Satoru’s cock enter your pussy—over and over again—as he impales you onto his cock. His thrusts are forceful, your body jerking up and down over him. With every movement, you struggle against your restraints harder—wanting to dig your fingers into his shoulder blades as he bounces you onto his cock. Instead, you settle for falling over him, your head resting on your shoulder, and your face pressed into his neck.

All of a sudden, Satoru spanks your ass, causing you to cry out.

“Sit up, I want you to ride my cock,” Satoru commands.

Limply, you pull yourself off of him, Satoru’s head immediately dipping to take one of your nipples into his mouth. Gathering your strength, you plant your feet firmly on the ground before flexing your thighs as you begin to ride him. The both of you hiss; your bodies writhing harder together.

Every time he impales his cock into you, you feel the ridges of his cock drag against your sensitive inner walls, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Sensitivity still grips at your sex, the ache of overstimulation only turning you on more. With a swivel of your hips, you bring yourself down onto his cock harder—both of you gasping when the motion causes his cockhead to slam against the back walls of your pussy. He’s so deep inside you, that there’s an intense, nauseating, pressure inside your stomach, and the back of your cunt throbs, Satoru relentlessly battering your cervix.

“H-Harder. W-want you to f-fuck me, h-harder,” you stutter out.

His pace is already intense, your entire body bouncing on top of him as you take him deep inside you. Still, you voluntarily clench around his cock, purposely tightening your walls against his shaft as you beckon him deeper.

“Harder? You want it harder?” Satoru asks, causing you to hastily nod.

Throat tight, and mind addled with pleasure, you can barely string together a coherent sentence. Rather, you push your hips harder into his, undulating them over his cock. Satoru grunts when you clamp down around him again.

“Fuck. Hold on, princess, I’m going to fucking ruin you,” Satoru breathes out, emphasising each word with a brutal thrust, his cockhead dragging against your sweet spot.

Eyes rolling into the back of your skull, “Please, want it,” you gasp out, white spots already blinding your vision again.

“Oh, I know you do. Love when I fuck you hard and fast like this, don’t you baby. Love when I fuck you dumb; leave you a speechless, quivering mess, don’t you, baby?” Satoru derides. Again, your throat tightens, your toes curling in pleasure as he purposely, vehemently, drags his head against your g-spot before battering it into your cervix.

“Yessssss, want you to use me, please,” you hiss. Satoru grips your hips tighter.

“Is that what you want, my sweet girl? Do you want me to use you as my own personal cocksleeve? Cum inside and fill you up?” Satoru gibes. Fingers flexing behind your back, you whimper out—the walls of your sex clenching around his throbbing shaft.

“Say it, I want you to say it. Tell me what you want,” Satoru hisses out, his hand coming down onto your ass hard. The sharp pain has you wailing out his name, Satoru soothingly rolling the cheek in his palm.

“W-Want you to u-use me as your c-cocks-sleeve, pleeeassse,” you mewl. Again, out of the blue, Satoru spanks you; your back contorting in euphoria.

“Then hold on slut, I’m going to use this tight little cunt however I want. You’re here for my pleasure now,” Satoru whispers against your ear, his words low and gravelly.

“S’toru, wanna cum again,” you slur out. Satoru only chuckles at that.

“You either cum from me fucking you, or you don’t cum at all. Don’t forget, you asked for this. Said I could do anything,” Satoru replies.

Then, one hand gripping your wrists, the other curling around your waist, Satoru pulls you flush against him. Using your weight to brace himself, Satoru increases his pace. Viciously slamming into you from underneath, the thick of his girth spreading your soft, sensitive walls around his cock with each rapid stroke. Immediately, your mouth falls open as you begin wailing out his name.

Blindly, your fingers flex for some sort of purchase, but with them tied up, you find none. Thus, helpless, your body bounces over Satoru—jolted up and down onto his cock—as he uses you in the way you had asked for. Hips surging into you from above, he batters your cunt, the ringed muscles releasing another gush of wetness. Euphoria tingles at your spine, your entire body heating as you feel your second orgasm thrum through you. However, without any stimulation to your clit, you can’t bring yourself to cum.

Instead, you teeter over the edge, your orgasm practically taunting you with every one of Satoru’s deep, hard thrusts. Between the friction of his jeans rubbing against the bottom of your thighs, and the way his cock repeatedly plunges into your silken depths, tears of pleasure sting your eyes. Eyelids screwing shut, the tears gathered in them begin to spill down, and you sob out his name—the ecstatic bliss of euphoria causing you to grow mad with lust.

You’re so close, but you know you can’t cum. Not without his permission, and definitely not without him playing with your clit.

“Toru, wanna c-cum,” you once again croon out. Again, Satoru brings his hand harshly onto your ass, the soft muscle smarting with pain.

“And I told you, you either cum from being used like my cocksleeve, or you don’t cum at all,” Satoru responds. Through it all, his pace doesn’t falter for a single moment.

You feel Satoru’s cock pulsate inside you—the rhythm falling out of place—and when he swells with a throb, you feel despair course through you. You know your boyfriend well enough to know he’s close, and if he cums before you do, you won’t cum at all. Vigour renewed by your realisation, you squirm over him, trying your hardest to grind your clit into his abdomen, or the open zipper of his jeans resting on either side of his cock.

“Fuck—I’m cumming,” Satoru groans as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon. “You’re gonna take it, aren’t you, baby? Gonna lemme fill up this tight, pretty little cunt with my cum? Fuck I know you will. Your cunt always looks so pretty when it’s sloppy with my cum.” His words have you moving in a frenzy, thrashing your hips against his abdomen as you futilely try to stimulate your own clit.

However, it’s all in vain, because swivelling your hips in his hands, Satoru rocks you further onto him. Then, all of a sudden, he pulls you down with one, fluid motion. The action has him burying his cock as deep as he can into you, and you find yourself winded—his blunt cockhead pushing painfully deep against your cervix. Satoru grinds his cock into you, using your cunt to sheath the entirety of his length: from tip to shaft.

“Fuck.” With a low groan, Satoru cums.

His cock pulsates inside you, swelling a little as it releases rope after rope of his cum into you. Feeling his warm seed flood your depths, you wail out his name, desperately needing to cum. Nonetheless, Satoru ignores you. Instead, he continues spilling inside you, thick pools of his cum gathering deep against your cervix, painting your inner walls white. Warmth fills you from the inside, and with the sheer amount he’s cum inside you, you wonder if he, like you, hasn’t had a good orgasm in a while.

“Toru—Toru, please,” you sob dryly.

Frustrated tears flow freely down your face, your words almost garbled and unintelligible as you plead for an orgasm. High-pitched keen slipping from your throat, you writhe against him harder; your thighs flex as you try bouncing your ass on his cock again—urgently chasing your own orgasm. Fingers digging into the flesh of your ass—hard enough that you know he’s bruised you—Satoru halts your motion, using his strength against you.

Satoru pulls away from your neck to look at your face. He takes in the sight of you, your eyelids teary, half-lidded and completely fucked out. He trails over the tear stains over your cheeks, your lips bruised and swollen, the precum he’d swiped on them dried out by now. Leaning up, he gently kisses your cheeks, his tongue swiping up to lick at the salty trails of your tears.

“Beg for it,” Satoru sneers.

“Please,” you breathe out. You look up at him through the thick of your lashes, your doe-like, teary eyes and swollen, precum-stained lips causing Satoru to groan.

“That’s my sweet girl,” Satoru praises.

Immediately, he retreats from your cunt, ignoring your moans of displeasure. Satoru draws up to his full height, easily lifting you up in his arms, before manoeuvring your trembling body so you’re bent over his desk. The side of your head rests on the table, cheek pressed against the wood, and bracing your feet on the ground, you thrust your hips back into him—chasing any form of friction.

Gripping your hips, Satoru holds your ass up and then, in one smooth thrust, he’s completely buried in you. With how rough he’s just fucked you, paired with his cum staining your walls and your own wetness, he should slide in easily. Nonetheless, the abrupt intrusion has you howling out, his girth splitting you apart once more as he leaves you no time to adjust. It’s too much all at once, your hips jerking forward as you try to pull away from him.

Satoru’s fingertips dig into your hips, holding your ass flush against his hips, and you cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain, your walls throbbing around his vascularised length. The uncontrollable clenching of your walls only highlights how incredibly big he is, his length buried so deep inside you, the head of his cock once again sits flat against your cervix. His sudden thrust has his cum spilling out of you, milky white rivulets smearing his cock, dripping down his balls, and onto your thighs.

“Fuck, baby. Always so tight for me like this,” Satoru moans, his hand coming down to spank your ass in tandem. The sharp impact has your hips jerking, a moan tearing from your throat. Satoru’s head falls back, revelling in the way your cunt tightens around him.

“Toru, move,” you urge, your hips squirming under his. Satoru bends over your back, his clothed chest pressing into your bare back.

“Who knew my Kitten was so cock-hungry?” Satoru purrs against your ear, emphasising his words with a deep thrust.

Your thighs shake and you fall further onto the table, your hands splaying on either side as your chest presses flat against the surface. Drawing back up to his height, Satoru begins thrusting hard into you. Over and over, he plunges his cock into you. His pace isn’t fast as before, but with his feet anchored to the ground, his thrusts are somehow more forceful, deeper. With every forward drive of his hips, your entire body jolts, your own hips digging into the edge of the table with how hard he impales you.

“Too—Too much,” comes your strained protest. Nonetheless, Satoru only laughs derisively behind you. One of his hands moves from your hips, caressing up the delicate curve of your spine and up to your neck, only for his fingers to curl into the roots of your hair. Tugging harshly, he forces you to arch your neck, your back bending in unison.

“Isn’t this what you asked for, princess? Begged me to use you as a cocksleeve, said you’d do anything just as long as I fucked you,” Satoru sneers, the derisiveness in his voice causing your skin to flash with heat. A deep, throaty mew is your only response, your brain unable to form words anymore. When you don’t respond, Satoru pulls your hair once again, simultaneously driving his hips forward in a brutal thrust.

“Hnnn—Deep, too deep, S’toru,” you gasp, your words slightly slurred. The pain of his cockhead battering into the walls of your cervix intermingles with the way his veiny cock strokes every nerve ending inside your cunt.

“I told you to be good for me, sweetheart. I asked you a question, I expect an answer” Satoru hisses, his fingers uncurling from your hair to spank your ass instead.

“Yes! I-It’s what I w-wanted,” you choke out, your voice faltering. Satoru caresses your tender cheek, a hum of approval tremoring from deep within his chest as he feels the heat of pain emanate from your flesh. Then, hand trailing down to your thigh, he grips your flesh before manoeuvring it to rest on the desk, your knee bending with the action.

In your new position, Satoru can press deeper into you, your wet, tumescent cunt peeking from between the apex of your thighs. Satoru’s lips curl sardonically before he swivels his hips. The rolling motion shifts the angle of his shaft inside you and you sob out his name once again. His entire length is hot inside you, the shaft throbbing rhythmically—completely different from the way your own walls ripple erratically. With a hard thrust, Satoru angles his cock to brush against your g-spot as he slides in. Instantly, you screech out his name, your thighs quivering violently.

Ruthlessly, he abuses your cunt—his cockhead brushes against your g-spot with every plunge of his cock. Dark eyes roam over your helpless form, Satoru watching as your muscles tremble almost imperceptibly from pleasure. Every time he impales his cock inside you, you jerk forward, only for him to pull you back onto his shaft. Each movement causes your sensitised, lace-clad nipples against the smooth wood—drawing out further sensations of pleasure as you gradually grow delirious.

Satoru’s hands move to drop to your ass, and thumbs pressing into the fleshy cheeks, he spreads them apart. A throaty groan resounds through the air, Satoru’s cerulean eyes fixating immediately onto the way your tumid cunt is stretched thin around his girth, how your wetness—mixed with his cum—leaks out of you and onto his cock, your thighs, his balls, with every thrust; and just above it all, is your tiny little asshole, the puckered rim twitching with pleasure.

Unable to stop himself, Satoru spreads them further apart, only to bend down slightly and spit. Instantly, you feel the warm wetness trail down the seam of your ass and onto your asshole, a small whimper resounding from your throat. Ignoring you, Satoru traces the puckered ring, relishing in the way it trembles under his touch. Then, running his fingers through your soaked slit, he gathers as much of your sticky arousal and his cum onto his middle finger, and with featherlight touches, he circles your asshole before dipping the tip of his finger into you, the muscles reflexively tightening to deny him entrance.

“Ah—Toru,” you hiss, the intrusion causing your stomach to clench.

“Relax, baby. It’s not the first time I’ve used this tight little hole, is it?” Satoru orders. Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to relax, Satoru groans when his finger slides in easily, the intrusion aided by the excessive amount of slick that coats his digit. When he’s buried knuckle deep into your ass he stills, the hot muscles clenching tightly around his appendage. Experimentally, he wiggles his finger inside you and you let out a heavy moan of pleasure.

“That’s it. Only filthy whores like you enjoy having their asses played with, don’t they, princess?” Satoru ribs, his voice mocking as he thrusts his finger deeper into your asshole. Whimpering, you only nod your head—your mind clouded with ecstasy from the feeling of your boyfriend’s finger inside your ass, while the head of his cock is still burrowed in your cunt.

When you don’t reply, Satoru pulls his finger out, only to shove both his middle and pointer finger into you this time. Blissed out, your pliant asshole initially stretches readily to let him in, however, the moment they probe further, the muscles clench involuntarily. Unhindered by the sudden contraction—more than used to loosening up the tight hole for his use—Satoru thrusts both his fingers hilt deep into you, before curling them and stroking the sensitive nerves inside your ass.

“Fuck! Toru,” you cry out, your hips jerking to pull away from him.

“Say it,” he hisses before swivelling his cock, the movement causing him to expertly stroke your sweet spot.

“O-Only filthy whores like me enjoy having their asses played with,” you cry out in pleasure.

Humming in approval behind you, Satoru begins fucking into you once again, his cock thrusting in and out of you, his fingers mimicking the rhythm as he forces them into your ass.

“S’toru—” you whimper.

This time, your voice is incredibly low and nearly inaudible; almost drowned out by the slick sounds of his cock fucking into your cum sodden cunt and the slapping of his skin against yours. Taking pity on you, Satoru leans over and presses a kiss to your shoulder blade. It’s a warming gesture, one meant to comfort you. However, the movement forces him slightly deeper into you making you jerk.

“Toru!” you sob.

“Fuck—cum for me, pretty girl,” Satoru orders.

As he speaks, the hand spreading your ass cheek moves to curl around your body before two fingers press against your clit. A strained sob escapes your lips as the sudden pleasure hurtles you off the edge. Body quaking, you wail out his name, the sound coming out more like a strangled groan as your throat strains under the sound. Satoru hisses, his jaw clenching as he feels you clamp down impossibly tight around his girth. Emboldened by your orgasm, he wildly thrusts both his cock, and his fingers, into you, drawing out the delirious pleasure that ricochets through your body.

“Fuck yes, that’s it sweet girl, cum around my cock,” Satoru urges.

All of a sudden, he rips out the fingers in your ass, using the hand instead to press into your back as he ruts his cock into you. The abrupt exit of his digits has you yelping, your slightly gaping hole clenching around nothing as Satoru thrusts into you with reckless abandon. The fingers toying with your clit increase in their vigour, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. Under him, your thighs tremble, your toes curling as he draws out your pleasure.

“Cum again. Fuck, cum again. Wanna feel you milk my cum out my cock,” Satoru commands.

“N-No, c-can’t. Too much,” you refute with a sob, your head shaking as your eyes screw shut. Satoru laughs mockingly at your weeping form.

“You begged me to cum, cried for it like a desperate slut. So cum,” he orders, his fingers rolling and pinching your tumid bundle of nerves. Simultaneously, his cock pierces into you, his bulbous head dragging against the sensitive tissue of your sweet spot.

With an ear-splitting wail, you cry out his name as your body locks. Ecstasy suddenly rockets through you, hurtling you over the precipice and sending you diving head first into your orgasm once more. Drawing into yourself, your body curls and shudders under him as you quietly sob. Your walls contract painfully, Satoru hissing at how you tighten around him.

“Fuck—fuck,” Satoru groans out.

The vehement rippling of your walls milks his shaft as he begins chasing his own high. A lewd squelching fills the air, the sloppy sounds of your cum-filled, dripping pussy loud in the night. Through it all, Satoru continues plunging into you, heightening your climax, and soon, the pain of overstimulation ripples through your over-stimulated sex. Through your desire-clouded mind, you vaguely register the burning ache that passes through you.

“N-No more. S’toru, please, too much, hurts,” you slur from underneath him, unable to articulate a coherent form of thought from the unbridled euphoria that clouds your mind. Relentless in his pursuit of his own pleasure, however, Satoru continues toying with your clit, revelling in the way the messy, wet walls of your cunt erratically tighten around him.

“Fuck, you can do it, sweet girl. Wanna cum deep in you while you milk my cock,” Satoru softly coaxes. When he pinches your clit once more, you scream out his name.

Pleasure blurs your vision, and eyes screwing shut, white-spots blind the darkness of your mind. Abruptly, the knot within your stomach unravels, and feeling the sudden relief spread through your abdomen, you’re forced over the precipice of blissful ecstasy once again. Jaw slackening, your mouth falls open and your throat strains as you force out a silent cry. Without warning, your walls tighten—almost painfully—around Satoru’s cock, the forceful contractions causing pelt after pelt of your cum to gush out of you. When he feels wetness pelt against the material of his slacks, Satoru groans, realising you’ve squirted all over him and his desk.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Satoru hisses.

Satoru’s hands move to grip your ass cheeks, and forces them apart, his eyes dropping to where his girth splits you open. Then, with two stuttered thrusts, he impales his cock as deep as he can into you, his balls tightening. For a second time that night, his thick cum floods inside you, shooting out of his length and straight against your cervix. Through the overstimulated fog of ecstasy, you feel the torrent of his seed pour into you, your womb overwhelmed with his warmth.

While your body uncontrollably spasms—your muscles still reeling with the aftershocks of your orgasm—you slowly come to. Drifting back to reality, the high of your climax ebbs into a post-orgasmic haze. Breath laboured, the two of you heave for air as you stay completely still. Feeling the dryness of your throat, you swallow thickly in a bid to soothe the raw muscles.

As your mind slowly clears, the inescapable warmth of Satoru’s cum within your belly becomes apparent. You whine softly, relishing in the comforting sensation. Behind you, Satoru stays buried deep inside you, hips moving imperceptibly as he rides out the aftershocks of his own climax. When the erratic clenching of your walls becomes too much, Satoru hisses in overstimulation before drawing out.

As he pulls his cock out from your depths, you whimper, his bulbous cockhead stroking against your over-sensitised walls. The head retreats with a slight pop, your hips jerking when your tender walls stretch around his tip once more, before you’re left empty. You lay limply on the table, your entire body trembling. Gasping for air, you try to catch your breath, your muscles involuntarily twitching.

Satoru flops onto his chair, a groan of appreciation emanating from his throat. In your position, bent over his desk, you’re completely bared for him, ass and cunt on display. Your raw, abused sex drips with a mixture of cum, the sloppy essence spilling out of you are your cunt clenches around nothing. Unable to help himself, Satoru caresses your folds, two fingers stroking up your slit and toward your entrance. Gathering up his cum that had spilled out of you onto his digits, he presses them into your gaping entrance, pushing his seed back inside you.

“S’toru, sensitive,” you whine, your hips sluggishly squirming in a bid to pull away from him.

Satoru rolls closer to you, presses a soft kiss to your ass cheek in an apology. Pulling his fingers out, he reaches out for you. Strong arms circle your waist and, gathering you within his embrace, Satoru pulls your boneless form onto his lap. You settle into your boyfriend, your back flush against his chest as your head rests against his shoulder.

“God, I fucking missed you,” Satoru sighs. He nuzzles his face into your neck, lavishing the delicate column with tender kisses.

“Missed you too,” you reply, your voice hoarse. Snuggling further into him, you allow his scent to wash over you and exhale in contentment. After a few short moments, you tilt your head to the side and look up at him.

“So, where’s my surprise?” you question, your eyebrow cocking. Satoru chuckles, the sound reverberating through his chest and into your back.

“It’s inside you right now,” he smirks in response, arrogance dripping in his voice. You frown, confusion painting your features as you attempt to make sense of his words. Then, realisation dawns upon you, your eyes narrowing instantly.

“Gojo Satoru, was my surprise your fucking cum?” you screech, only to wince when your aching, dry throat protests the sound.

“Told you you’d love it,” Satoru grins.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you scowl.

Satoru’s only response is to laugh in that annoying, purposely high-pitched tone of his.

a/n: this is my first fic in a while and i am probably v rusty with my writing but i hope you all enjoyed it :)

m.list

[kingdomoftyto]

I've started and deleted three drafts now trying to get my thoughts into a coherent recommendation, but there's just so much.

Let's start with the basics: You should read the graphic novel if you're a fan of the original show. You just should. It's new content of your old faves, and I'm telling you now that the art and writing are great and that you should give it a shot based on that alone.

But as for exactly why I'm losing my mind over it this much...?

It... feels like watching the show. But a version of the show unafraid to explore its own worldbuilding. A version of the show where continuity and character growth matter. A version of the show without jokes written by people far too old to understand mid-2000s teens.

And it is actually, honest-to-goodness funny. I went in fully braced for a badly shoehorned "fruit loop" one-liner, and instead I got incredible deadpan asides like this:

The art, too, manages to perfectly ride the line of looking enough like the original style to be convincing, but improving on the expressiveness of the characters' faces and actions to elevate it to something arguably better than the show:

(Like, I'm being so serious when I say the fight scenes are among the best I have ever seen in comic form. I'm the kind of person who tends to go for anime over manga because the fights are harder for me to follow in little sequential snapshots, but I can tell exactly what's happening in these battles AND they still look super cinematic and cool.)

And the story. Man, the STORY.

I won't spoil any of the plot here, but it's... really good. A little winding and goofy toward the beginning, but once things get serious, it really grabs you and refuses to let go til it's done. (Much like the best episodes of the show! Funny how that works.) It has a satisfying conclusion, but it also leaves a massive door open to continue telling more stories in the setting.

And I want more stories in this universe. The threads being dangled here might be even more enticing than those left by the original show. There is potential here for an INCREDIBLE series of comics.

We just have to prove how badly we want it.

If you can't buy the book yourself right now (it's relatively cheap for a graphic novel--I think it was about $15 even with tax from my Barnes & Noble), then please at least let other fans know it exists (I wouldn't have had any idea if not for tumblr) and keep the hype going on social media. I'm stoked to see that DP is trending on tumblr, at least, and I hope the same is true elsewhere. It's a small thing, but it's something corporate decision-makers take note of.

Fingers crossed we get to see more someday. This is one series that deserves to come back from the dead.

But, whether or not we get that continuation: welcome back, Phandom. Congrats and happy release day. 💚

[andy-wm]

When Love Reveals Itself

The intersection of public and private in life and art.

A few years ago I watched Her Private Life, a k-drama starring Park Min-young and Kim Jae-wook, both of whom I love seeing on-screen, and ONE (Jung Jae-won) who is adorably cute in this series.

If you haven't seen it, here's a synopsis...

It's ostensibly about an art gallery curator - Doekmi - and her relationship with Ryan, the newly appointed director of the gallery (a position she deserved but of course didn't get). That part of narrative is a highly satisfying but predictable rom-com.

Doekmi is also a secret fangirl, and tries desperately (hilariously) to hide this side of her life, but that doesn't work out. I love the way this is dealt with and the understanding of the complexities of fan culture shown by the writers and cast. It's very relatable.

But maybe most importantly, this was one of the first k-dramas I watched that had an overtly queer narrative strand. I wont spoil anything but Ryan (Kim Jae-wook) is an absolute fucking legend in his efforts to be an LGBTQIA+ ally, even if he gets EVERYTHING wrong.

So how does this relate to our photo of Jimin, knee deep in water and smiling like this?

Episode 5 of Her Private Life has one of the most poignant scenes I've ever watched in a k-drama.

The scene isn't part of a major plot point but there are SPOILERS here.

The scene centres on an unpublished self-portrait taken by (deceased) renowned photographer-Yoon who was famous for his landscape photography. The portrait was his final photograph, taken just before he died.

The portrait was gifted to a reclusive writer who was lifelong friends with photographer-Yoon. He owns the rights to the photo, and he won't release it for publication.

The portrait in question

Deokmi and Ryan are trying to convince the writer to allow the portrait to be displayed in an upcoming exhibition of work by photographer Yoon. The writer adamantly refuses.

Why?

Yoon is looking at someone he loves.

As Deokmi observes, the portrait shows Yoon smiling not at the camera, but at someone in front of the camera.

He is looking at someone he loves.

For the writer, the portrait reveals too much. It exposes photographer-Yoon's feelings for the person in front of the camera, who is of course the writer himself. The writer knew of Yoon's feelings for him but could never acknowledge them while his friend was alive.

Lets go back to the photo of Jimin.

Something that really struck me about this photo of Jimin is the context of it. It was during the LGO MV shooting. He was splashing Jin and laughing, creating a small, happy moment for the music video (for us).

But covid was rife and the world was at a standstill. Jimin was personally and privately devastated during this time*. It was part of the MV brief, I'm sure, to show that you could still find joy in simple things but we know he himself was not happy.

So the happiness we see in those images is not his personal happiness. Even though he does genuinely look like hes having fun, that happiness is manufactured for us.

And then he looks up at the photographer and this we get this poignant, beautiful smile. Open, unguarded, and holding nothing back, his expression is so soft, so genuinely glad to see the person behind the camera.

He is looking at someone he loves and who he knows loves him in return.

"I see you, and everything is better. The sun comes out because you’re here with me," It says.

There's a stillness in this image, as though Jimin -singled out - stopped what he was doing to look back at the photographer, shutting out all the activity surrounding the two of them and stealing a quiet moment with that person.

And that stolen moment would have remained secret and private forever, had the photographer not shared this photo.

But they did.

The photographer gave it to us.

Was this just for aesthetic reasons?

I don't believe so.

Of course, it is a beautiful portrait of Jimin. Aesthetically and emotively it's a striking photograph, but there must me HUNDREDS of beautiful photos of Jimin. The photographer could have chosen ANY of them. But they chose this one.

Now we have this moment on record.

We get to see Jimin feeling this love. We see him the way the photographer sees him. And yes, we know who he is looking at.

We know who was behind the camera.... because the photograher shared this with us too.

Jungkook makes sure we know who took that photograph.

His Private Life becomes Art

In the drama series, the writer relents and takes Doekmi and Ryan upstairs to show them a locked room. It is full of photographs of himself, taken by photographer-Yoon over many years. In all of the pictures, he looks happy. Deokmi describes it as 'a love letter to the writer, from Photographer Yoon'.

The writer admits that he is ashamed that he never acknowledged Yoon's feelings. He didn't dislike them but he didn't have the courage to respond to them, which is why he can't release the portrait now. He can't reveal to the world how Yoon felt, when its too late to tell him that he knew, and that he didn't reject that love.

Ryan looks around at all the photos and says "Did you really ignore his heart? This smile does not look like it. You did not know your own heart, but photographer Yoon could have known it. As a photographer, how could he not notice it. He knew."

Their Private Life becomes public

That photo of Jimin is everywhere. Jungkook made sure of that.

The reticence of the two men in Her Private Life is nowhere to be found here.

Jungkook took this photo of the man he loves and one look at Jimin's face tells us that love is returned.

Just like photographer Yoon, Jungkook saw it and he knew we would all see it too.

But instead of hiding the picture in a locked room for decades, Jungkook published it in the most public forum imaginable. He put it into the music video for Life Goes On.

He consciously chose for us to see that photo.

Don't forget, he was the director of that music video too...

That private stolen moment, full of love and fondness, shows Jimin at his softest and his most vulnerable.

And maybe that's a side of Jimin only Jungkook sees. Maybe Jungkook wants us to know the Jimin HE knows. The open, unguarded Jimin who wears his heart on his sleeve the way Jungkook does. The most authentic, unafraid, beautiful Jimin.

The Jimin he loves the most.

💛💜

°~☆~°

*He told us in his Vlives, he told us in his album, he told us in his interviews. It was a hard, hard time for him.

[agendabymooner]

here comes the sun ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member!ofc)

“little darling, the smile’s returning to their faces.”

summary: daniel and their fans (altogether) made sure that lorelei ‘lester’ ricciardo’s weeks of return in both the paddock and stage are bearable as their son, beau, made his presence known to the public a year after being born.

OR lester continues to prove that she'll always be with the tifosi first and be a red bull driver's wife after.

content warning: dad!daniel x mom!ofc content, red bull and ferrari admins being themselves (again), baby ric/little parmesan’s paddock debut, fluff fluff fluff, grid uncles and måneskin uncles, arthur leclerc being a piece of shit on twitter but i love him or sumn like that

note: i’m back from a lecture mwehehehe. check out the prequel for the rush series, own my mind!! enjoy xx

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danielricciardo posted a story !!

tagged loricciardo, maneskinofficial, _thomasraggi, ethaneskin, ykaaar

liked by ethaneskin, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari

user1 MOOOOOMMY 😍🥵

user2 do y'all ever wonder if charles had a crush on her?

user3 where did that even come from?

user2 idk he's been listening to them for as long as he knew them lmfaooooo it's just a question

user4 drivers in the attendance were charles, lando, max and pierre (with danny ofc) btw

user5 oh bless 🙏

charles_leclerc watching the concert was one thing but to experience it firsthand with the little parmesan was incredibly priceless liked by danielricciardo

landonorris in the end, little par is THE VIBE. no exceptions liked by danielricciardo

oscarpiastri saw little par kick a football in monza 👌 he can still make it to the socceroos team liked by danielricciardo

danielricciardo he's bout to be australia's pride

colabebe you're half italian, danny. if you're half and lester's full, bambino beau is 3/4 😽

oscarpiastri i refuse to accept these ideals, cola. i'm sorry. once an aussie, always an aussie

scuderiaferrari she's so back, welcome her 😭😍

redbullracing she is the moment your honour 🤭

ykaaar nice to see you again dan! not that i don't see your insufferable ass every other week 🤔 liked by danielricciardo

danielricciardo you're making me really sad with these claims, damiano 🥲

ykaaar do u want me to kiss it better 🤕

loricciardo omg my biggest fans 🥺 liked by danielricciardo

loricciardo i love you and the little bear soooo much 🥰 liked by danielricciardo

danielricciardo my favourite musician 🤩

tagged loricciardo

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1

landonorris slee🅱️y boys liked by danielricciardo

colabebe LOOK AT MY LITTLE NEPHEW !!!! beau beaaaaar!!! 🐻 liked by danielricciardo

nora_alessandro such handsome boys!!! 😍 liked by danielricciardo

georgerussell63 excuse me, ma'am? 🤨

danielricciardo go back to your tea, my dear brother-in-law georgerussell63

georgerussell63 🙄

user1 DADDY RIC!!!!

maxverstappen1 daddy ric ^^ liked by danielricciardo

user2 this is the kind of shit that we do NOT say aloud alright max 😭

user3 us maxiel enjoyers cannot take it 🥲 stop keeping our hopes up

oscarpiastri me and colabebe would babysit him if you'd allow it 🙌

landonorris i think you and i would have to talk about the babysitting privileges first, oscar.

user4 THE PERIOD IN THE END IM-

user5 bro really said "watch yo mouth" 😭

lewishamilton it wouldn't be a surprise if beau's just as energetic as you are 🤣 liked by danielricciardo

ethaneskin the next time i see him, i will spoil the f out of him 🤧 liked by danielricciardo

_thomasraggi uncle tommy's otw to get him everything he wants 😍 liked by danielricciardo

ykaaar he is so uncle dami-coded 😊 liked by danielricciardo

danielricciardo he doesn't look like you but ok 🙄

ykaaar just wait.

loricciardo my loveeeeees 😩😍 liked by danielricciardo

danielricciardo is it bad that i'm trying to outdo the little bear when it comes to your love? 🤔

loricciardo you will not need to try that hard, mio tasso. beau will always have the first place in my heart. you're a close second though 😽

danielricciardo aw it's all good, i guess. he is number one in mine too 🥰

loricciardo i'm glad we can come to an agreement then, my love 🤝

danielricciardo 🤝

[tmntxthings]

hii! How is my favorite ROTTMNT writer doing? Great hopefully😌

I've been meaning to request this for a while now, but can we get a platonic HC for Leo with a rich bff who just likes to spoil him rotten and take him anywhere and everywhere they go when the rest of NYC is asleep, like they'd break into arcades, amusement parks, or Reader will just randomly send packages with things Leo wanted but couldn't afford(imagine a limited edition of a Captain Ryan's action figurine), I like to imagine Reader has the same vibes as Mabel Pines from Gravity Falls or Miko Kubota from Glitch Tech(a very underrated cartoon series if you ask me). please and thank you<3

Good Deeds, Good Gifts

author’s note: i was actually starting to write for another request and boom, meeee your favorite?! im blushing >\\\\\\< and so flattered, as a token of my appreciation i got this done pretty fast heh

warnings: platonic relationship, fluff, got kinda long hehe, unedited

—————————————————————————

The two of you met how most people met the turtles, by being saved. And you aren’t the type to ever be in someone’s debt. So you implored Leo to swing by your place some time to give him a gift as a thank you.

Splinter was against the idea, and thoroughly told Leo that heroes don’t take gifts, that they are just happy knowing someone appreciated their help… so Leo went to your place with intentions to refuse any and all gifts, politely.

But as he found himself jumping on top of wealthy apartment complexes, rooftops that had pools and greenhouses and other exotic, expensive add-ons, they were foreign to the rooftops he was used to in his neighborhood. Leo had a feeling your gift would be hard to refuse.

You were awaiting his arrival, and Leo was punctual. “Hello there hero, Leonardo wasn’t it? I’m so glad you came!” You were waving for him to follow you to the rooftop door, “The surprise is inside!” You smiled, unable to hide your giddiness. “Ah, actually Y/n you can just call me Leo and I only came to tell you I appreciate the gesture but don’t need a gift.”

Leo was trying his best here, but you had taken his hand and pulled him through the door. Dragging him along as he tried to explain that Master Splinter (his father) was adamant on his sons being heroes that didn’t do good deeds for gifts. The two of you were now in an elevator, and you were nodding, making sure he knew you were listening.

“That’s very admirable Leo, truly, but wait ‘til you see what I have in store for you!” You squealed, your excitement still not dulled even as Leo groaned. Re-explaining with an exasperated expression. The elevator chimed and Leo almost had a heart attack when he saw another human down the hall.

“Oh don’t worry, that’s just Richard, my butler. He knows all about you and how you saved me, he’s truly grateful.” Richard himself bowing his head to Leo and then opening the door he was guarding. With a sweep of your hand you let Leo go in first, “After you!”

A circular table, set for two, filled with delicacies from around the world entered Leo’s vision and also his snout. Just the smell alone made his mouth water as he stood there shellshocked at the feast before him. “I thought this way, we could get to know each other better, I find food brings people together!”

You made your way to one of the chairs, Richard already there to pull it out and push you in exactly how you liked it. “Sit sit sit sit!” You insisted as you saw Leo hesitate. Richard went to help with his chair too but Leo waved him off. “Y/n..” he started, looking at all the food and feeling overwhelmed. He’d never finish it all, his thoughts went to his brothers. They’d enjoy this…

“Leo just try this!” You directed, pointing with your fork at something steamy and cheesy. Reluctantly, he listened, and one bite was all it took for him to start chowing down, forgetting his early reservations. “Wowww this is amazing! It’s like when me and my brothers first discovered pizza!”

The two of you went on talking about pizza and the foods on the table. And the more Leo ate, the more he opened up, talking about his favorite shows, Space Heroes of course, and his favorite characters. You were a great listener and enjoyed his company thoroughly. By the time his stomach was full, Richard had a big bag packed with more food for him to take home. “You kept mentioning your brothers so I thought to pack them a little goodie bag!” You explained as the table was cleared and the bag was placed beside him.

“Thank you!” Out of all the things the two of you talked about, this seemed to have the happiest smile appear on his face. Which in turn made you happy. “Oh Leo, you must return! Will you? I enjoy your company dearly!!” You weren’t one to plead, but you didn’t want this to be a one and done encounter.

“Well, sure! Wanna swap numbers?” He asked, who could refute those puppy dog eyes of yours? You were squealing happily once more, sliding your phone to him as he did the same to you. “Interesting design!” You noted, turning the phone over in your hands to see it resembled a turtle shell. “My brother Donnie made it, he’s a bit of a genius.” Leo said fondly.

“Cool! Maybe one day I can meet him, and the rest of your brothers!” You said in a hopeful voice. “Oh after I give them this,” Leo raised up the bag of food, “they’ll definitely want to meet you.”

Leo came back a couple of times by himself, one day was spent in the spa, another at the rooftop pool, you showed him around the entire building. “Hey so where are all the other tenants? Shouldn’t we be a bit more careful..?” Leo said waving a hand to go up and down his figure.

“Oh no, I own the entire building,” you said nonchalantly. Now Leo had known you were pretty wealthy, but he was now seeing the bigger picture here as he did a double take. From there the hangouts got even crazier.

“Y/n.. I don’t know, breaking and entering is a crime, I’m supposed to be a hero remember?” You sighed, this was the third time he had tried to chicken out! “Leo, how else are you gonna go to an amusement park??” Before he could get out that it wasn’t necessary to go to one to begin with, you were climbing the fence.

“Y/n!!” Leo said in a harsh whisper, watching as you fell over by accident to the other side. Your pride wounded as Leo snickered at you through the fence. “Your turn ninja warrior!” Eyes narrowing at him, we couldn’t all be athletic gods!

That night had been one to remember, and Leo only allowed a couple more break in hangouts before he finally got you to stop, by inviting you over to the lair.

You came bearing gifts of course, thankfully Master Splinter was in his room meditating, and didn’t witness all his sons beam at their gifts. This time Leo was giving you the grand tour. It wasn’t your swanky skyscraper building, but it was his home and you were overjoyed to be there.

Once in his room, you brought out the last gift. In a blue baggy, and you had the cheesiest grin on your face. “I know, I know.. no presents but this will be the last one for a while.” You crossed your fingers behind your back as he rolled his eyes and took the bag. “Honestly I don’t even know why I bother saying-“

Leo had been midway throwing the present paper out of view when he stopped talking as he saw the figurine. It was his favorite character, Captain Ryan from Space Heroes, it looked to be a part of the premium collection. His mouth dropped open as he gentle pulled out the collectible. “You didn’t,” he gasped to himself, he hadn’t realized you had really paid attention to what he was saying.

Usually his brothers droned out his Space Heroes talk. “Thank you!!” Leo said happily, unable to stop himself as he pulled you into a quick hug before looking around his room. “He’s gonna need his own shelf!” Leo said, totally nerding out. “Well yeah, especially when I get you all the other characters! For holidays” you amended when you saw his face turn stern.

What can you say? You couldn’t help but spoil your new best friend, he wasn’t just your savior. He hadn’t known who you were and yet he stuck out his neck, put himself in danger, just because he was a good person. A real friend unlike some you’ve had in the past. And that’s who you wanted to surround yourself with. So you couldn’t help but feel all warm and fuzzy when you finally got him to give you a genuine smile.

[animehouse-moe]

Delicious In Dungeon Episode 4: The Balance of Things

While a far more reserved and plain episode than the last, today's installment of Delicious In Dungeon really provides the first look at the depth of Ryoko Kui's storytelling, and how deeply passionate and interested in this content they are. Because of that, I'd love to explain how Kui expresses balance within the content of this episode.

Obviously, the easiest answer is the fact that Senshi and co are "living off the land". There's an implicit balance between them and the food they eat up until this point, but the episode makes that relationship very explicit today with the golems.

While Senshi uses the golems to grow his vegetables, he also cares for the golems by providing them with water and even fertilizer.

He even argues the point that the vegetables create a symbiotic relationship with the golems, making their soil stronger.

Similarly, he further argues that keeping the golems alive is important within the balance of the dungeon, otherwise monsters will start to pour into the floor that the golems exist on.

Kui's awareness of ecosystems and the balance of things in that sense is really really great. They understand what it takes to build a habitat and even further what's required to maintain it, and how it even might begin to fall apart.

But the icing on the cake is the introduction of the orcs. What a great decision.

You might think them as a boorish race because they killed that entire tavern, but I think that if viewers take a moment to digest the entire interaction with that group of humans, you'll get a better grasp of how that happens.

The owner of the tavern essentially said that the only thing that matters to him is money, obviously. With added imagery the point driven home is the fact that this group of people only take from the dungeon, and are entirely unaware of the delicate balance of it.

Though if that wasn't enough, the leader of the orcs (Zon) conversation with Marcille is perfect at driving that point home.

While it does paint a more hypocritical image of the orcs than what the tavern might say, it forces a deeper conversation in regards to balance.

Kui effectively states that it is the nature of intelligent life to disrupt, and because of that it requires conscious effort to reinstate balance or to suffer the consequences.

For example, the balance that existed while the orcs was above ground was essentially "don't pillage and kill the other races", and they were unable to adhere to that, thereby upsetting the balance, and were forced out of the ecosystem.

Conversely, the dungeon doesn't have a strong or active presence like humans or elves to enforce that balance. Because of that, they suffer different consequences. Namely the fact that the Red Dragon is uncharacteristically roaming, and upsetting the lower levels of the dungeon.

It's a very cyclical narrative that starts from the moment that we open up this series and won't stop until it ends, but it's really incredible how well Kui distills it into each and every aspect, and how she paints Laios and his party as the people to break that cycle of human destruction. I really could talk about it for ages and how it arises within the series, there's so much that Kui does as an incredible author that remains lurking beneath the surface.

But, I refuse to spoil the fun of experiencing the series, so I'll leave things where they stand- Kui's awareness of ecosystems and the role of "humans" (in this case all intelligent life) within them is really outstanding, and they're able to express both implicit and explicit balance between humans and nature in so many different ways.

[tired-biscuit]

general!kiba deflowering n breeding the king’s virgin daughter who he gave to kiba as a reward..

being all soft and sweet.. teachin’ her how to take cock.. telling her he’s gonna take care of her forever n ever..

18+ fem!reader / cw: virginity loss, forced breeding

series masterlist

i think he'd be rough and mean at the start because it's all he knows.

he's practically tearing the pretty night clothes the servants had dressed you in on the night of your union. is ruining the gentle updo the expensive pins now fail to hold up under the strain of his grip. is not at all listening to your little, choked up whimpers as he pushes you deeper into the mattress and keeps you there by using his weight.

he's needy and awfully forceful. is just interested in getting you naked and sitting on his cock as soon as possible - and with zero respect at that. you're one of the prettiest girls he's ever had the chance of fucking.

so he's pawing at you with his big, scarred hands; making the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention whenever his rough calluses scrape your soft skin that's never even had the chance to experience the world yet, much less another person's touch. your legs are spread wide open because he's in-between them and is refusing to let you squeeze them back together. your mouth is full of his tongue; whenever he kisses you, it makes your teeth clash.

and it's all so overwhelming; his pace and the intensity that accommodates it make you cry even if you know that you shouldn't weep because you have no right to. you're his property now; he's earned you fair and square by winning this war for your father and emerging victorious, but you just can't help it. he's just so... animal-like.

you've been taught about the task of satisfying a man when the time comes for it to some aspect, sure, but you also learned about delicate touches and poetic love confessions murmured into soft skin. slow undressing, candle-lit bedrooms, romance and just, well... plain intimacy. and instead of that, you're stuck with bedding a man who's not even necessarily a man, but a beast.

and that makes you cry even harder. it's nothing what you've imagined when it comes to being deflowered, so you start to sniffle and your breaths turn all sorts of wobbly, making your chest shake by the time he undresses you completely. you know that you've been gifted to him with the sole purpose of pleasuring him and giving him healthy children if he wants them, but you just aren't able to live it through. you're royalty, for fuck's sake, and he's nothing but a warrior with no manners; a mere brute.

so your hand lands on his cheek to stroke it, a small "please" leaving your lips as a last resort to distract him, and surprisingly; it works. your thumb traces the ghastly scar that spoils the entire left side of his face, and he slowly, but surely, puts a halt to the ravaging he was just about to force upon you, and actually takes his time to get a good look at you for the first time ever since he's even entered the room.

and he stares; blatantly. leers at how delicate you are and how big your eyes get when tears well up inside them. how small and fragile you feel underneath him. how your cute little cunt glistens even if he guesses you probably don't even know why it's wet like that.

so he reconsiders.

he slows down a bit. still takes your virginity and praises you crudely as he spills his load inside your womb because it's what he wants, but he also tries his best to make it not hurt as much. you definitely don't cum because it's all pain and the constant, uncomfortable feeling of being way too full, way too stretched out, but it does get better after a while.

especially when a couple of days pass and he finds the idea of bending a princess over and licking her sweet little pussy from behind until she starts crying again from cumming for the first time ever way too intriguing to miss out on.