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#every tag under the sun i need One person to see this
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sweeter than you ever knew. (pt 5)
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Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, this chapter is just smut, unprotected sex (p in v), rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, cum eating, nipple play, whiff of breeding kink (I'm very funny), biting, reader has a nightmare that's a little graphic but brief, Wade is very annoying lmao Author's note: I can't believe it's over!!!! It's insane to me how much love and support this had gotten :') I just want to say thank you so much from the bottom of my heart! Please enjoy! <3 ao3 Tags (if I forgot someone I'm so sorry!): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o @thedevilsaysthings @jaeyuni @redmitsuru5 @jeffs77 @spideybv28 @trumanbluee @jennapearce13 @chxrrybomb22 @7soulstars @what-the-jams @lostinheavensworld @purplestars222 @whiskeyghoul @paintballkid711 @unmotivated-artist164 @amararosesblog @bontensbabygirl @belgium2 @g0ldenstarr @wolvndmouth @sseleniaa @reddesires @harryshousewhore @sun7lowxr @minniekitties @ceobuggy @clancy-the-pretty-odd-killjoy @geckosssssss
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The next few days were a haze of food, sleeping, tender touches, and above all else, comfort. Most days I awoke to Wade cuddling close. Logan was too much of an early riser to stay in bed. He would get antsy the longer he lingered, grumbling about how he couldn’t just lay around all day. But I found that sleepy smiles and little nibbles to his jaw could convince him to stay. Even more so if I just happened to push my butt against his hips. 
My leg was healing well, the bruise fading to a dull purple after a few days. The pain was manageable but it always hurt in those first few hours of the day. Wade was more than happy to rub and kiss at my skin every morning. I stopped needing the painkillers during the day but Logan insisted I take one before bed to minimize any discomfort in the morning. It was easy to sleep with the numbing effects pumping through me. My body would feel heavy, my mind quiet and still. I never dreamed. I simply closed my eyes and awoke to the morning sun. 
But I was getting better. So I opted to not take one on their last night with me. It was hard to calm my racing mind and I tossed and turned before Logan snapped a heavy arm around me. “Do you want one?” He sleepily asked. Wade was already out, flat on his back, mouth open. Both of them were able to fall asleep in moments, a skill born from their military service, but Logan was unfortunately a light sleeper. 
“No,” I mumbled, tucking my head under his chin, running my nose along his throat. He had showered before getting into bed so the woody scent of his body wash was strong on his skin. “I need to stop relying on them, need to sleep on my own.” He hummed but stayed quiet. One of his big hands slipped under my shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto my skin. 
I was on the chair again but my limbs were free. I stood, looking around. No one was here. The concrete room was quiet and cold. I walked slowly to the large door, peaking through the small window. 
Nothing. 
Swallowing, I pulled it open. To my right was endless darkness and to the left was an infinite hallway. Something shifted in the darkness as I lingered. I quickly turned to the left. There were no windows or doors as I walked. 
I heard something over my shoulder. When I glanced behind, it looked like I had made no progress, the darkness still close to me. My pace quickened. I heard the sound again. A low gurgle. 
I could see a window at the end of the hallway, sunlight painted across the floor. A hand ran through my hair and I started to run. Whatever was behind me ran too. 
“Sweetheart.” 
The sunlight wasn’t getting any closer. 
But whatever was behind me was. 
I felt their breath along my neck. Cold needles pricked all along my spine. I couldn’t run any harder or any faster. Something caught my foot and sent me sprawling. Before I could scramble away, a hand latched around my leg, dragging me deeper into the darkness. I screamed, nails ripping at the concrete. 
“You’re safe, come on baby, wake up.” 
Then I was forced onto my back to look up at my attacker. It was him. His face was half gone, eyeball hanging from a destroyed socket, brain oozing and pulsating. I tried to fight him off, clawing uselessly at his mangled face. 
He glared down at me, hot blood splattering across my cheeks from his exposed skull. Then he held up the knife before plunging it deep into my chest. I wailed, fighting with everything I had. 
“Come on, you gotta wake up for me.” 
The knife tore from me with a disgusting sucking noise. Then he drove it in, again, and again. 
I sat bolt up straight, chest heaving as I panted. Cold sweat misted my skin and my clothes stuck to it. My eyes were cloudy from unshed tears. With shaking hands, I rubbed at them, and found something warm speckling my face. 
It was blood. 
“You back with us?” The voice was soft but I still jumped. Logan was also sitting up, his body tense. I could see four distinct scratches along his cheek in the weak moonlight. I let out a sob, clambering into his lap, arms latched tight around his shoulders. 
“I-I’m sorry,” I whimpered. He lifted the quilt over me and wrapped it tight. It didn’t stop my shivering. 
“You have nothing to apologize for. Should have known better than trying to touch you while you were having a nightmare.” I kept readjusting my hold, trying to find the position with the most contact. I wanted to crawl inside him, be encased in warmth and comfort. “It’s okay,” he hummed, throat vibrating against my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.” His hands were under my shirt again, fingers digging into the tense muscles of my lower back. He let me shudder and cling to him for a few minutes, sobbing onto his shoulder, the skin quickly becoming slick with tears. “What do you need, princess?” 
“Just you, please,” I lifted my head from his shoulder, “just you.” Our mouths hovered close and he nearly went cross eyed to keep me in focus. Then he nodded. The kiss was sloppy and desperate but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him against me. He let me take charge, one hand braced on the back of my neck. For once, I wished he had worn a shirt just so I could grip it tight. I settled on digging my fingers into his hair. It had gotten long, trailing along the nape of his neck. The longer I kissed him, the more solidly in my body I felt. My head felt clearer as the last of the nightmare ebbed away. 
He was making these soft, tiny groans against my lips that made heat trickle through my veins. I needed more. My hands went to my shirt but Logan stopped me, his lips pulling back, forehead against mine. 
“Sweetheart,” he mumbled, collecting both of my wrists in one of his. “You aren’t thinking clearly.” 
“Says who?” I wiggled, trying to snake out from his grip. I knew it was impossible. But as I shifted, I felt something press against my stomach and Logan let out a faint groan when I pushed myself against it again. “You don’t get to make that decision.” 
“I can smell how scared you are.” 
“I’m not.” I sounded like a petulant child. I was scared. But I craved him and Wade. I wanted to let go, let them chase away all my worries, feel their skin against mine. 
“Relax, take a deep breath,” Logan hummed, ignoring my useless protest. The grip on my wrists had loosened and I took advantage, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him against the headboard. Anger was swirling up in me. 
“Stop telling me what I want. I thought you said you would give me anything I needed. Why is it so hard for you to think I might need you? Might need to feel…” I stumbled over the word I wanted to use, loved. Logan’s face relaxed, the worry leeching away, a soft affection replacing it. 
“Just don’t want you to rush into anything just because you’re scared, that your emotions are in high gear.” I huffed. 
“Then help me calm down,” I pleaded, kissing his scratchy cheek. “I know you and Wade will take good care of me.” He groaned, the sound low in his throat, eyes squeezing shut. “Please,” I whispered as I nipped the corner of his jaw. My nails lightly scraped along his chest as I waited for his response. 
“Okay,” Logan sighed, tilting his head back to allow me to bite and kiss at the newly exposed skin. “We can do that for you sweetheart.” I kept up my assault on his neck, marveling at the bruises disappearing seconds after I had placed them. “Are you done pretending to sleep now?” 
“I was just watching. We need to work on your self-confidence, peanut.” I shouldn’t have been surprised Wade was awake, and even less shocked that he’s been observing us. The bed behind me shifted and Logan spread his legs to accommodate Wade’s body. “If a hot piece like this is begging for sex, you shouldn’t try to convince them that they’re wrong.” Logan growled, his palms hot as they skated over my ass, before dipping into my panties, gripping the flesh. I rolled my hips over his and was rewarded by a small hitch in his breathing. 
“It’s not my confidence, I just need her with us to do this.“ His voice dipped, soft and sweet again,”lean back for me baby.” I do as he asked, back flush with Wade’s chest. Wade’s lips immediately descended on my throat and he cupped my breasts through my shirt. My eyelids grew heavy as he started to circle my nipples, the fabric a pleasant scrape. “Lift her up a bit,” Logan commanded. Wade curled one arm around my waist, easily raising me an inch or two off of Logan’s lap. 
Logan’s fingers dipped under the elastic of my panties, his eyes never moving from my face, examining every expression. He moved between my legs, the pad of his middle finger brushing my clit. I wasn’t wet or turned on enough, yet, for that simple touch to do anything, but I still pushed my hips forward, craving more. Wade nuzzled his face into my neck, sucking at the skin. That made me whine. Logan moved in languid motions over my clit, not too firm, and just enough to reignite the warmth inside me. 
Wade removed his lips from my thoroughly spit covered neck and made a satisfied humming noise at the sight. “So beautiful.” He released my breasts and I opened my mouth to protest but he slipped under my shirt to resume his treatment before I could. 
“Go back to kissing her neck, she likes it, don’t you sweetheart?” I nod, biting my lip as Wade tweaks my nipples. Logan’s middle finger traces around my entrance, collecting my slick, but going back to my clit, the new wetness making his finger glide easier. 
“He gets so bossy in bed,” Wade huffed. “Next time I’m in control.” Logan’s fingers suddenly left me and I gasped in shock. He reached up, his two middle fingers extended, pointed towards Wade. 
“Shut up,” Logan growled, “get these wet for her.” Wade was more than happy to oblige, lapping like a dog at the tips before swallowing them to the knuckles. With his mouth next to my ear, I could hear his exaggerated sucking and slurping. Logan groaned, hips bucking against mine briefly, before he pulled his fingers back. A long trail of spit stretched and snapped between the two. His hand dove under my underwear again, soaked finger prodding at my entrance. 
“Did you, after that night in the bar,” Wade mumbled against my throat, lips tracing my racing pulse. “Logan came from just sucking you off my fingers.” I could feel the man under me tense, like he was going to attack Wade. But he relaxed when he felt how wet I had gotten from hearing that. A finger slipped inside me and I groaned, head falling back on Wade’s shoulder. Wade’s fingers were long, able to poke and prod anywhere inside me with ease. But Logan’s were thick and there was a pleasant stretch around it. “Oh look at that pretty, pretty face,” Wade cooed, abandoning my neck to kiss at my flushed cheeks. “He’s so big isn’t he?” I moaned in response as Logan started to pump into me. “But that stretch feels so fucking good. Makes your toes curl, doesn’t it?” 
“Yes,” I whispered. Logan’s chest rumbled, gripping my hip as he increased his pace. Wade reached for the hem of my shirt, one borrowed from Logan, and went to pull it over my head. 
“No,” Logan rasped, thumb pressing against my clit, forcing a moan from me. “I like her in it.” Wade chuckled. 
“He’s such an animal, isn’t he?” Wade teased, but let the shirt go. “He loves marking his territory. It’s going to drive him crazy to smell his cum in you.” 
“Wade, shut the fuck up.” Logan’s other finger eased inside me, being as gentle as he could be. My eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open. “Look at me, sweetheart. Wanna see your face, wanna see how good I make you feel.” Wade pinched my chin and used it to angle my head down. I couldn’t see Logan’s face well in the dim room but I could see little dark splotches on his cheeks. His nostrils were flared and his chest heaved. 
“God you two look so hot.” I could hear Wade sucking on something before his hands went back to toying with my nipples. My hips jerked, forcing Logan deeper into me, at the feeling of Wade’s wet fingers. He pressed himself closer and I could feel the defined ridge of his cock against my back. 
Logan’s grip on my hip became tighter as he guided me over his hand in long rolls. “There you go princess,” he mumbled. “Make yourself feel good for me. Take what you need.” Fuck. Those words made desire rush through me. I leaned forward, hands braced on Logan’s wide chest, and started to grind against his fingers. I could feel his heart racing under my palms. He curled his fingers just right that made pleasure shoot down my spine. Wade’s hands slipped from me in this new angle. 
“Feel so good,” I sighed, nails pricking into his skin. Logan showed no reaction of pain, his whole focus on me. He pressed against my clit, the pressure just firm enough that my toes curled. “Logan,” I mumbled and reached for his free hand. He gave it willingly and I immediately shoved it up my shirt so he could take over where Wade had stopped. He played with my nipple like he did my clit, long, firm strokes across the sensitive nerves. “Oh god,” I gasped, pleasure pooling deep in my stomach. My hips became more desperate as I chased after the orgasm just out of reach. 
“Aw, Lo,” Wade cooed, faux sympathy dripping from his words. “You’re so hard, do you want some help?” Logan’s hips jerked under me, his fingers spearing deeper, hand briefly clenching around my breasts. I let out a strangled moan at the stretch and rocked my hips quicker. 
“Leave it alone,” Logan hissed, eyes finally darting from my face to glare at Wade over my shoulder. “Don’t need anything but her. I’m taking good care of you, aren’t I baby?” I nodded furiously. I could feel that tension growing in my stomach, that heady rush of heat just within arms reach. “You’re close.” It wasn’t a question and I was too focused on my oncoming orgasm to answer. “You’re so wet for me sweetheart, probably taste like heaven.” 
”Oh she does,” Wade agrees, kissing the nape of my neck. Everything, their words, the rough scrape of Logan’s hands on my most tender areas, the knowledge that Wade is watching, kicked me over the edge. My body went rigid for a moment, a moan caught in my chest, before I ground against Logan with renewed desperation. 
“Fuck, Logan,” I panted. My nails were dug deep into his skin, the warmth of his blood soaking into my fingertips. 
“There you go princess, I got you.” His fingers were pumping into me, fucking me hard through my orgasm. It was exactly what I needed. 
“Logan!” My blurry eyes opened to see him gazing up at me. I was too far into the waves of my orgasms to find his expression, but I smiled down at him all the same. He made a little noise, halfway between a grunt and a moan. 
Soon the pleasure faded and my hips slowed. My breath was uneven. For a moment, that was the only sound in the room. Then Logan’s hand snaked up from my breast to cup the side of my neck. The neckline of the shirt stretched to accommodate his thick forearm. “Alright?” I hummed, little aftershocks rippling through me, my hips jerking over him. Once I stilled fully, his fingers left from me. I whimpered at the loss. He slipped his sticky fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling closed at the taste. 
“Come on baby muffin,” Wade breathed against my neck, licking a drip of sweat off the skin. “Let’s put on a show for him, yeah?” 
“Okay,” I sighed, “just one second.” I leaned closer to Logan, tongue flashing out to lick at the fingers still in his mouth. “Gimme a kiss,” I weakly demanded. He obeyed, removing the digits and dragging my face closer by my chin. His tongue delved into my mouth, the tang of me thick on it. I drew back with a faint smile before I nipped his bottom lip. 
“Let’s go, I’m not known for my patience,” Wade playfully growled, giving my ass a light spank. I giggled, rolling off Logan’s torso, the bed squeaking a little under me. Wade’s hands slid between my legs and spread my thighs apart. He hooked his fingers through my panties and inched them down my legs. I blushed as I felt the fabric cling to my wet pussy before it slipped away. “There you go, you nasty old man.” Wade tossed the bundle of wet fabric at Logan’s face again. The older man made an annoyed sound, throwing the sticky panties near my laundry hamper. 
“I don’t need it.” 
“You didn’t say that with the last pair,” Wade teased, my borrowed shirt climbing up my stomach. “You know,” he said, voice low like he was letting me in on a huge secret, “that last pair I grabbed was ruined. You wanna know how?” 
“Wade,” there was a hint of embarrassment in Logan’s voice. But I nodded eagerly, lifting my arms to let Wade slip the shirt off me, biting back a small giggle when he tickled across my ribs. 
“He made me come in them and then let me fuck him while they were shoved in his mouth.” Heat burned down my neck. “I can’t even see you, but I know you’re all turned on and pink.” Wade backed off the bed, shimming his pants down his narrow hips. I propped myself up on my elbows and squinted in the darkness, trying to take his naked body in. The shadows played across the ridges of his stomach, the V of his waist, and unfortunately lingered between his legs, completely obscuring what I actually wanted to see. “You look cute when you pout like that.” Wade clambered back over me, settling between my thighs, hands braced on either side of my head. His cock was heavy and warm as it rested on my stomach. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” 
“I can take a guess,” I mumbled, arching my neck to brush my lips against his. A bead of warm liquid dribbled onto my stomach. “Why don’t you fix that?” He kissed me back, light pecks and lashes of his tongue on my lips. 
“As you command, my love.” My heart stuttered at the casual way he said the word. Wade leaned back on his knees, his fist pumping over his length. Just as he was lining himself up, my stomach tight in anticipation, Logan’s hand wrapped around Wade’s cock, stilling him. “You can wait your turn, peanut.” 
“Shut up you idiot.” Logan’s forearm flexed and Wade’s hips jerked with a strangled noise of pain. “Sweetheart, do you have condoms?” 
“No, but you guys can’t give me anything can you?” Logan shifted closer, his face becoming clearer in the dim light, there was a pinch of concern on it. 
“No, but we can get you pregnant all the same.” Logan’s nose twitched, clearly smelling that I got even wetter at the idea. “Fuck,” his voice was gruff, forehead falling to my bare shoulder. 
“Stop smelling me,” I hissed. “Anyways, I’m on birth control. Now let Wade fuck me.” Logan sighed and let Wade go. He took his cock in his hand, sliding it through my folds, rubbing my slick into his skin. 
“Ooh,” Wade teased, tapping my clit with each roll of his hips. “Remind me to get on your bad side. I like how you sound angry. Much better than big boy over there.” Wade notched himself at my entrance, pausing for a beat, then pushed into me. I moaned, back arching. He was so warm and twitching already. “Shit baby,” he mumbled, his focus solely on where he disappeared into me. He took his time, giving me an inch, before withdrawing, then working another in. 
It was absolutely maddening. 
“Wade,” I whined, the slow drag of his cock through my sensitive walls making my head spin. It seemed like he was never ending. I wanted him deeper and I tried to force it, but his grip was iron tight on my hips, completely freezing me. 
“Let me savor this, yeah? I only get this for the first time once.” His hips pressed flush to mine, all of him buried deep. He lifted my waist, the change in angle made my stomach clench, as he worked even deeper. 
“Fuck,” the word trembled as my eyes rolled back. The bed next to me creaked, then Logan’s lips were on my neck. He only left a few bites before he was trailing down my chest, tongue tracing along the hollow of my throat, the line of my collar bones. His beard scraped against my flushed skin as he moved. 
“I see what you mean,” Wade sighs, “she flutters so much when you kiss her neck.” He pulled out, just the tip lingering, before he surged forward. It wasn’t rough, but it made my breathing hiccup, ankles locking around him, heels digging into his ass. Logan’s tongue traced down my breast before circling a firm nipple. My hands locked into his hair, keeping him close. Wade continued his slow, torturous, push and pull. He was long enough that at this angle, he was able to rub against my sweet spot on each stroke. 
“Faster,” I pleaded, tightening my legs around him. This pace was only making me feel feverish, more desperate. I needed an edge, that bite of roughness, especially now. The nightmare was long forgotten but I could feel the lingering emotions in the back of my mind.
“Being so gentle,” Logan hummed against me, the hot air dancing over my wet nipple. I bit my lip at the feeling. “I would have thought you’d be fucking her like a rabbit.” When Wade didn’t respond, Logan titled his head to face him. “You really going to come already?”  
“You’re going to be the exact same way,” Wade huffed, shoving Logan’s face against my breast a little too aggressively. “You’re probably going to cry when you have her wrapped around your ancient dick.” Logan growled, sitting up straight, uncaring that I ripped several of his hairs out. He gripped Wade’s face, silver claws breaking his skin and glinting in the dim light. 
“Fuck her like she wants, or I’m going to.” Wade smirked. His face tilted, the edges catching on Logan’s claws, blood trickling down his bumpy skin. Shock mingled with the pleasure simmering in me. Wade had stalled in his movements so I was forced to wiggle my hips the best I could, giving myself a little friction. 
“Look at her Lo,” Wade nodded down at me, like there was anyone else her could be. “She likes it when you're rough with me. I knew you were lying about not wanting knives to be involved.” Wade seemed to enjoy watching me struggle. I reached up, Logan’s claws glancing across the back of skin, and bent Wade’s body in half, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss, arms latching tight around his neck. I bit at his lip hard enough to break the skin, hot liquid dripping into my mouth. Wade grunted in shock, his hips jerking roughly into me.
“You said you fucked harder with them involved,” I murmured between kisses. “Prove it.” Wade’s arms curled around my waist, clutching me close, plunging deep on a harsh thrust. I groaned, eyes fluttering, the angle making my thighs tremble. 
“Knew you had a mean streak in you.” His hips snapped into me finally giving me that needed roughness. I continued my sloppy kissing, nipping and sucking on his rapidly healing lips. His blunt nails dug into the soft skin of my hips as he gripped tighter. Another pair of calloused hands traced up my thigh, feather light as they moved up my skin. Wade trailed his lips along my cheek and jaw. Fingers pinched my chin and dragged my face to Logan’s. He littered my face with light pecks as Wade went to my neck. 
“Is he finally making you feel good? Took him long enough, huh?” 
“Do you,” my voice broke as Logan slipped his hand between Wade and I’s bodies, rolling his fingers over my clit. “Do you have to antagonize each other all the time?” 
“Yes,” they said in unison. Logan’s mouth went to my neck again, his teeth sinking into the curve of my neck, nearly hard enough to break skin. My hand went back to his slightly sweat-dampened hair while the other laid across Wade’s flexing shoulders. With both of their mouth’s occupied, the only thing filling the room was the wet sound of Wade pounding into me and my ragged gasps.That familiar swirl of heat was growing in me. My head felt light, overwhelmed by all the sensations. 
Wade’s forehead pressed between my breasts, his own uneven breath coasting across my sweaty skin. “Fuck,” he mumbled. His pace was losing its consistency but none of its harshness. Logan’s fingers on my clit picked up in speed, the scrape of his callouses extra intense on my tender skin. I whined, my body shuddering as pleasure shot through me. Logan’s mouth slanted against mine and swallowed down all my noises. It wasn’t quite a kiss, I was quickly growing out of breath to linger too long, but Logan didn’t mind. 
Wade was adjusting my position in tiny ways, a slight tilt to the right, a little lift, a small drop. I figured it was just a coincidence until he hit that perfect spot inside me that would have made my eyes cross if they weren’t already closed. I let out a strangled wail of Wade’s name, nails ripping into his shoulder. “There we go,” he panted. 
It only took four more strokes. 
“Wade, I- I’m gonna,” I barely got the words out before the hot coil inside me snapped. Just like Logan’s fingers before, Wade fucked me through my orgasm, groaning at the tight squeeze. Logan slowed over my clit, knowing that overstimulation was creeping up. 
“In or out?” Wade’s voice was clipped, hips finally losing all sense of rhythm, just becoming uneven jerks. It was hard for him to even move with the vice grip my legs had around him. 
“In, ah Wade, in please!” He made a choked noise, somewhere between a moan and whine, as he pushed in as far as he could with a shudder. Warmth spread through me as he came with a long groan. “Fuck,” I mumbled, my hips still trembling from the aftershocks. 
Our bodies slowed, all the shakiness easing out of us. Wade kept me close even when my legs fell from his hips. He laid his cheek against my sternum, body growing heavier over me as he relaxed. I gave his head a weak kiss just as another pair of lips found my cheek. “You okay baby?” I smiled at Logan, feeling just a little giddy. 
“Yeah.” Logan smirked back and I blinked sleepily at him. Wade was softening inside me and drips of cum traced down my skin to the bed. I winced at the stickiness. 
“I’ll get you a towel,” Logan said, already moving to get off the bed, legs on the floor. My arm stretched to grab his fingers. 
“It’s your turn.” I couldn’t see his face too well, but I saw his head tilt in question. I chuckled. “Wade, get off me now.” He groaned, sucking a hickey right on my chest before rolling next to me. I moved to my hands and knees, crawling across the mattress to be face to face with Logan. I heard his breath stutter. “Cleaning up can wait can’t it?” My hand slid between his legs, gripping his cock through his boxers. “How do you want me?” I felt him throb in my grip. 
“Jesus,” he huffed. I littered his neck in licking kisses while I awaited his response. “Go sit on Wade’s face.” Now it was my turn to look at him confused. He smirked, a flash of a pointed tooth catching in the street light outside. “Don’t you trust me princess?” Reluctantly, I released him, turning on my knees to inch across to Wade. I made sure to shimmy my ass for Logan as I moved. 
“Oh dessert.” I had barely swung my leg over Wade’s face before he pulled me down by my hips. His tongue parted my folds, flicking aggressively at my tender clit before sliding back and licking his cum from me. I shuddered, hands gripping his head. The bed shifted and I felt Logan’s palm slide up my spine before cupping my neck gently and guiding my torso to be flat to the bed. I braced myself on my elbows, adjusting my hips, the new angle only allowing Wade to continue his torture on my clit. Calloused hands spread me farther open. Logan lapped away all the cum that had leaked down my thighs. I whimpered, fingers knotting the bed sheets. But the sound grew in volume and pitch as Logan joined Wade, tongues tangling briefly, before he speared into my leaking pussy. Wade laughed as I shook above him. His hot breath fanned across my wet skin and I had to bite my lip to stop from wailing. 
“How do we taste?” I had no idea who Wade was even speaking as he was practically smothered under me. Logan groaned, nuzzling his face deeper into me, his grip tight enough to leave bruises on my ass. His tongue curled, licking every inch of my clenching channel. The scratch of his beard was like little pinpricks of pain but it only made me push my hips against him harder. The sounds I was making were downright pathetic. Just when I didn’t think I could take anymore, he reared back, breath uneven. I glanced over my shoulder to find his eyes glued to where Wade was pinned. When he looked almost content to just watch, I shimmed my hips, grinding harder on Wade’s face. The man under me eagerly sucked my clit into his mouth and I sobbed at the feeling. 
“Shit,” he huffed, “you two are gonna kill me.” There was more adjusting and then I felt the blunt head of Logan’s cock at my entrance. Wade released my clit, opting to just rub his nose against it. It was enough friction to keep me satisfied, but not enough to make me come too quickly. “Beg for it.” 
“Aw you’re being so mean!” 
But I was all too eager. “Please fuck me Logan, please! Been thinking about it so long! I promise I’ll make you feel so goo-ah!” With one long stroke, Logan was buried to the hilt. Despite how wet I was and the extra slick of Wade’s cum, there was still the barest hint of pressure as he stretched me. “Oh god,” I whimpered. Logan’s rough hands grasped my hips, giving an experimental roll. “Logan.” He shushed me, drawing his cock nearly out before plunging back into me. The force punched a moan out of me. “Like that,” I pleaded. 
“I’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” he hummed. His pace was languid, but rough. He used my waist as leverage to drag me closer for each thrust. With each pull, I was forced to grind myself against Wade’s face, who stuck his tongue out so I couldn’t escape the pleasure. I was so wound up, so close to the edge after two orgasams, that I could only take a handful of his harsh strokes before I was coming again. I buried my face in the sheets, shuddering whines falling from my lips. “Shit,” Logan groaned. Wade made a muffled noise as my juices dripped into his mouth. His own hands joined Logan’s, clutching me close. I could feel Logan’s thighs trembling where they were pressed against mine. 
I hadn’t fully finished my orgasm before Logan was moving in me again. He was far less restrained now, fucking into me with quicker thrusts. My toes curled. “Logan,” I sobbed. Despite the overstimulation growing in me, I arched my back, forcing Logan deeper.
“Feel so good, I can’t handle it,” Logan grunted. He bent over me, messily kissing at my spine and shoulder blades. “Too much?” His voice was quiet as it tickled along my neck. 
“No!” I cried, bouncing against him as best I could with both of them holding me. Wade chuckled and the vibrations made me nearly rip the sheets in my grip. “More!” Logan huffed a laugh, kissing the back of my neck, before his hand replaced it, pinning me to the bed. The pressure was enough that I knew not to move, but light enough that I could slip out from it if I needed to. 
Logan fucked into me like a man possessed, hips rutting into me with reckless abandoned. I had no doubt there would be faint bruises on my ass from him. But that pinch of pain only drove me higher. I felt drunk on all the sensations. Logan rubbing against my tender walls. Wade’s tongue as it rolled between my folds, tracing my entrance. The ache in my hips from being spread so long. My moans of their names grew more slurred before it just became whimpers. Tears stung my eyes and I let them fall freely. 
“Goddamnit,” Logan growled, his hand briefly flexing around the back of my neck. He was panting, if only a little, and I took it as a compliment. His hips moved quicker, the slap of his skin against mine echoing around the room. Wade’s tongue stopped wandering and honed back onto my clit, making tight circles around it. 
“Wade!” I cried out, body jolting. Logan’s hand suddenly went to my shoulder, jerking me up straight, my back flush to his chest. He banded an arm across my chest to pin me close while he drove into me. His lips found his previous bite mark and sunk his teeth into it. The feeling of my skin breaking was a dull burn, soothed by Wade between my legs. Heat burst through me, an orgasm that nearly knocked the wind from me. My hand went to Logan’s hair, fingers twisted deep into the strands, and held him close, weak sobs of euphoria escaping me. His other arm curled around my hips before he shoved himself as deep as he could with a little snarl into the skin clutched between his teeth. I could feel every twitch as he came, filling me to the brim. I shook in his embrace. If not for his iron grip, I would have fallen flat on my face on the bed. 
The first thing to move was Logan’s teeth from my neck. “Fuck.” His worry was clear as he licked the dripping blood away. “I, I-shit, I didn’t mean to, I just got so caught up in you.” My weak hand slid from his hair, caressing his jaw. 
“S’okay,” I slurred. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to me. ”Felt good.” 
“You really can’t help but bite any piece of meat you see huh?” Wade’s tongue swept between my folds again, lapping up Logan’s cum as it leaked from me. Logan growled. I felt Wade’s fingers brush against me, curling around Logan’s softening cock before tugging it out. I whined as he obnoxiously slurped the mixture of cum from me. 
“Stop it,” Logan growled. “Make yourself useful and grab a towel.” With lots of adjusting, Wade was able to wiggle out from under us. But he didn’t go to the bathroom, instead he cupped the back of Logan’s head, meeting him in a kiss. Logan groaned. 
“Taste good right?” Wade leaned back, grinning, before licking Logan’s face from chin to nose. 
“How about you go grab a towel before I put my claws through your chest, yeah?” If anything, Wade’s smile grew wider, more wild. 
“Okay, okay. How about I get a towel to clean our precious girl up and then we can have some fun while she recovers?” Logan sighs. 
“Fine,” he grumbled. Wade shimmied in excitement, giving me a wet peck on the cheek, before disappearing out of the bedroom. My heavy head fell back on Logan’s shoulder. “Do you feel better now?” I gave a weak laugh and nuzzled my face against his cheek. 
“I can get used to this.” Logan hummed. 
“Me too sweetheart, me too.”
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Fall Yandere Prompts
Fuck Me I put prompts on the other thing at didn't actually put prompts, I suck anyways here are a few prompts made by yours truly. Others are free to use them just please tag me. Thanks. I'll make more Halloween ones if people like these.
Apple Cider: A sweet yet tangy that leaves a warm feeling. Your eyelids start drooping after drinking every drop.
Bonfire: Dry sticks and leaves are so easy to burn in high bright flames. Be wary of what the light attracts.
Crows: Inky black birds with a glimmer of intelligence in their eyes. You feel a dozen pairs of eyes watching your every move.
Dry Leaves: Crunchy and brown and always fun to mess around in. You hear a second set of feet slowly trotting behind you.
End: Autumn signifies the end of Summer and a change in season. It also signified the end of your freedom.
Flannel: The warmth of this fall apparel is so comforting in the crisp weather. Don't you like it, they picked out just for you.
Grain: Bountiful and golden, shaking in the cool breeze. You meet a friendly stranger standing in the grain field, holding a scythe.
Harvest: Fall provides us with a bountiful harvest of corn, pumpkins, apples, pears, and grain. Such bounty requires a sacrifice to be made.
Indoors: Why go outside when you can snuggle under the covers and keep warm? Just because it's your home doesn't mean you are safe.
Jack-O-Lanterns: Grinning gourds light up the night, carving them is a fun activity. They want to participate but got a little too creative.
Kettle: Boiling water for a hot beverage on the stove is so nice. The water isn't quite done but you still hear whistling.
Leaf: Colorful trees make such wonderful leaves they look good pressed in a book. You see one on your bed side every day, they have a distinct metallic scent.
Mushrooms: Clustered together they're a fungi to be around. More seem to grow near you each day in strange patterns.
Nutmeg: Fall spices are aromatic and make every dish warm with flavor. If your running low the next-door neighbor might have some, might as well come inside while they look for what you need.
Orchard: Fruit trees tended to with tender care, baring crimson fruit. Picking just one won't hurt.
Pie: Steaming goodness wrapped in a golden shell. Have another slice there's plenty to go around.
Quiet: Many an autumn night is filled with sweet and calming silence. It feels a little too quiet tonight, might want to retire early.
Reaping: How to harvest the crops grown, you reap the rewards of the Earth. Someone has come to take you or your soul, they're not very picky.
Spider: Dainty legs weave beautiful webs, enticing as they are dangerous. Any prey they catch, they won't let go.
Tree: Majestic and tall these ancient plants reach up to the dwindling sun with aching branches. Haven't you seen that tree before, you must be hopelessly lost, perhaps that's better than being found.
Umbrella: The cold weather makes rain extra chilling; with a warm smile you share your umbrella. No good deed goes unpunished, as the storm outside isn't what you should be worried about.
Vermillion: Beautiful shade of red found plentifully in the fall, its beautiful yet it can be a dangerous color too.
Wind: Rattling trees and blowing the leaves to the ground, the wind tickles your ears and nips at your nose. It carries with it the unhinged words of a person you never want to see again.
Xenial: Being most hospitable is a must during autumn. This does not change when a stranger shows up at your front door requesting shelter.
Yarn: Soft threads of vibrant colors used to create warm clothes, blankets, and other things. The string prevents you from moving while someone knits in the corner, eyes focused on you.
Zipper: Better zip up when it's so chilly outside, wouldn't want to catch a cold. You also might want to zip it before they hear you.
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horrid-mothlegs · 8 months
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8 weeks on T and my face is so fuzzy and if I had an audience of any kind I'd ask what your favourite effects of hrt have been
Unfortunately I have no audience but if you see this! Tell me your favourite changes that you've noticed!! Share your joy with me pleasepleaseplease
A teď trochu češtiny, protože vím, že na čumblru je docela hodně trans lidí (a chtěl bych víc českých kámošů xx)
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azullumi · 6 months
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a scripture on having a certain pretty gambler as your boyfriend ; aventurine
summary — radiant and gleaming, dating him feels like basking under the golden glow of the sun, with the promise of the serene and starlit night ahead.
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship, fluff, him as your boyfriend basically, there are no spoilers dwww, i never proofread, 1.2k words ; headcanons
note — congratulations to honkai star rail for being the only game to have aventurine!! this is day 2 of writing for this man until i have him.
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Aventurine couldn’t abandon the person that he used to be so he carried him in his hands. Always hesitant, afraid, and seemingly detached from everyone he meets—this is why he seems so distant and disconnected from you at first despite being in a relationship with him. Although he lives his whole life gambling, believing that everything happens and the outcomes gained are due to luck, he’s meticulously careful and cautious just to not get too attached to you lest he gets hurt in the end (he has dealt with the sight of people’s backs as they walk away from him multiple times).
It will take time for him to completely warm up and be vulnerable to you. Although there are moments that he lets the facade slip and he lays himself bare, moments where it’s just you and him in the silence, moments where you comfort him after a nightmare that disturbs his sleep; he doesn’t ask for comfort nor assurance often but you always seem to know when he needs it.
Aventurine loves it whenever you gently comb your hand through his hair. Even if he wasn’t vocal about the matter, you’ll know from the way he immediately relaxes under your touch as you rake your fingers through his locks. It just gives him a sense of comfort, finding serenity and affection in such a small act of intimacy; it reminds him of how simple everything could be (oh, how he wishes it was) with just the loving touch of your hands.
He’s not exactly a morning person but would always wake up early, occasionally before you do. It’s either because he has to leave for work early or it just so happens that he woke up just as the sun was rising. If he has to get ready soon, he’ll take a few minutes of his time to admire you as you sleep, to trace the bridge of your nose slowly and carefully so as to not wake you, to draw and follow the outlines of your features with his eyes. But if he has no plans for today, he’ll stay in bed with you and eventually, fall asleep once more. He holds you so close and so tight (but not tight enough to suffocate you) that it’s hard to slip away from his grasp.
You feel a pair of soft lips on your forehead, the kiss lingering for a moment until you flutter your eyes open. “Are you awake now, sleepy?” 
“Mmh…” You grumble, your vision adjusts to your surroundings as you blink multiple times. You could see Aventurine getting dressed, putting on his expensive tailored-coat.
“You’re leaving already? Why did you not wake me up?”
“You looked like you were having a nice dream.”
MATCHING PAJAMAS (heck yeah!!). The time when he saw you wearing one of his pajamas, it felt like something had been flipped inside of him and the thought of getting you one for your own that matches his fills each and every corner of his mind. Although all of the matching things you have with him are not just limited to pajamas—it can range from matching jewelry, matching charms, matching clothing, matching glasses, matching everything. God, he goes into a store, sees something that he likes and asks the staff if they have another one but in a different color that you like.
Perhaps you have never noticed (or maybe you have) but he never wears his glasses whenever he’s around you—when there’s only you and him. There was no need to hide anything from you, not when you adore all parts of his being. He melts whenever you compliment him (he’s a sucker for such words of affection) especially when it’s his eyes, loves the way you look at him as if he was everything you wish for.
He’ll often play games with you or initiate a bet but somehow, he has more losses than wins. “You’re cheating!” You’ll say, pointing at him as if you were an attorney from a game that objects to a statement. Aventurine, however, would stare at you in disbelief (though he’s just feigning innocence) and would answer with a raised eyebrow: “How am I the one cheating when you’re winning?” To which you’ll respond with: “That’s because you’re letting me win. You’re not playing fair, Aven.”
SPOILS YOU A LOT and when I say a lot, I mean A LOT. Everything you'll ask for or even just mention in passing, he'll provide. He randomly sends you pockets of money, a notification on your phone lighting up your screen and the text says: You have received 100, 000 credits. You have to get used to it—it’s one of the ways that he shows his affection to you. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer whenever he gives you something either, so, you have to take it or else you’ll have to deal with a sulky man the whole day. 
Don’t worry though as he ensures that everything that he buys and gets for you is something you would like—expensive meaningless gifts will always be meaningless, he would rather give you a cheap yet beautiful charm that is of your favorite color or flower than an expensive shiny necklace made out of gold and adorned with diamonds which you’ll never wear because it’s too heavy on your neck or it’s not your preference.
On that note, he also likes seeing you wear the things he bought for you. Maybe it’s obvious, maybe it’s not, but he likes to dress you up, likes to see you put on the clothes he picks for you. Dates where he brings you to a boutique to pick clothes together (for both you and him), dress up, and ask each other if they look good is not so rare between you two. It’s silly but the two of you would end up giggling like children when the other would strike a ridiculous pose to show off what they're wearing (and also, with the intention to make one another laugh); he lives for and craves these moments with you.
Brings you together with him to casinos and lets you watch him while he plays as he regards you as his lucky charm (when he’s actually the one who is lucky here). Whenever he wins a game or a bet, he asks for a kiss from you—he taps on his cheek as an indication of his request but he will not force you if you don’t wish to express such affections in public, rather he’ll ask for something else instead like maybe a smile or ask that you hold his hand. Sometimes, if you’re curious enough, he’ll teach you the fundamentals of the game and what you can do to win. The look of pride on his face says it all as he watches you win and your opponent falls to the floor (you just put someone in debt).
The amount of endearing names that he calls you. If ever you get flustered whenever he calls you with those affectionate endearments, he’ll take the chance to tease you, to repeatedly call you with such names until you throw a pillow or any object at him—he catches it though but will apologize while laughing, saying that he won’t do it again.
You have to be understanding and gentle with him, careful as you tread the light, lest you fall into the dark and see that the tall and strong walls he built around himself is nothing compared to the broken and fragile pieces that are sewn on his skin, and he will leave (out of fear, out of anxiety, out of grief, out of self-hatred). But it’s alright, everything will be, you’ll embrace him even in the abyss and you’ll guide him back to your warmth.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works
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syddsatyrn · 8 months
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⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter Two: Emotions Unveiled
Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4
⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.
⛧Words: 2.5K
⛧Summary: Feelings surface and the line between duty and desire begins to blur. Admitting your feelings to the King of Hell could be the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you. Lucifer battles with his own internal struggles in silence.
⛧Notes: Ask and you shall receive, my dears! You all asked me for a part two so here we go! Keep an eye out for my next fic because its time for some Alastor content! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and she deserve all the rainbows and cupcakes.
⛧Tag list: @loslox @tiedyedghoulette @naiadic
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As the soft rays of the morning sun seeped through the velvet curtains, you slowly opened your eyes, blinking a few times, adjusting to the gentle light. Despite the room still cloaked in soothing darkness, you knew you were in Lucifer's room. It takes you a moment to recall last night's events. You feel his breath on the back of your neck and his arm around your midsection. You can feel your face get hotter with every detail you take in. He is comfortably curled up behind you sound asleep. He needs rest, you’re afraid to move a muscle and wake him. You look over at the clock on the wall, you both are extremely late for breakfast.
“...Shit.” You say under your breath. Lucifer begins to move slightly, he lets out a soft hum and holds you just a bit closer. You can’t tell if he’s awake or not, even though you truly did not want to get out of bed, it had to be done. You slowly sit up and turn around, you almost place your hand on his shoulder but you take a moment to admire his sweet sleeping face. Instead, you gently place your hand on his cheek. Lucifer’s eyes flutter open, he meets your gaze and gives you a sleepy smile.
“Good morning…” He says softly while holding your wrist, keeping your hand on his cheek. You wanted to pull away, but his eyes made you want to just crawl back into his arms and go back to sleep.
“G-Good Morning, sir.” You stutter a little, Lucifer’s smile turns into a small smirk, he is amused by how flustered you are. He finally lets go and you try to compose yourself, but it's hard to do so when he looks so cute.
“I’ll go get some coffee, it looks like we slept in.” You finally break the spell he had on you and crawl out of his bed. When you leave, Lucifer immediately misses your presence close to him, having you next to him made a significant difference in his mood and sleep. It was the first time he’d felt the warmth of another person in a long time, and now that he’s had a taste, he wants more.
You head down the hall to your room, when you enter you quickly shut the door, thankful no one saw you. You get dressed in your uniform and head downstairs to the kitchen. While you made coffee, the staff were surprised to see you so late into the morning. You make up a quick excuse, stating you were not feeling well but you’re doing much better now so it's nothing to worry about.
You take two cups of coffee upstairs on a silver tray, and you do your best to mentally shift into work mode, but you can't stop thinking about last night. You return to his room, the king is still in bed, sporting a satisfied look on his face. You hand him his coffee and place the tray on the bedside table. 
“Thank you, my dear.” He says and gestures for you to sit on the bed, so you take your cup from the tray and have a seat.
“I want to apologize.” You start, and he looks at you with a raised brow. “I shouldn't have fallen asleep in your quarters. That was inappropriate of me.”
“I’m gonna stop you there, you do exactly what is asked of you. Everything you do is for my benefit. I could never be upset with you for something like that.” He says with a gentle voice. His gold eyes soften as he realizes you’re being serious.
“Thank you…” You reply, just barely above a whisper. His words made you feel a little better, you only want to do what's best for your king…but sometimes you can get carried away. You would do anything for him, that includes bending the rules.
“Now stop sulking.” He says and crawls over to you, sitting beside you on the bed. He is seated rather close, you look away trying to hide your red face. He turns your face back towards him using his index finger and thumb. “You’re too pretty to be so sad.”
“Y-You forget yourself, sir.” You stutter, barely keeping it together. You finish your coffee and return the cup to the tray. When you stand up and walk towards the wardrobe, Lucifer chuckles at your attempt to remain dignified. He is knocking down walls with the way he speaks to you. Breaking down each professional boundary one at a time. His touch was setting you on fire and you were running out of ways to extinguish it.
You sort through his clothes and pull out a black suit with red and white embellishments. You set it on the corner of the bed like you always do. “I’ll make sure I have your lunch ready for you in your study, sir” You say quickly, with a red blush spread across your face, you take the tray and quickly excuse yourself.
You rush down the hall and back to your room. Your chest heaves and you're out of breath. What in the devil's name happened there?! He looked like he was going to kiss you, his face was so close and he called you pretty! What is this idiot doing? You cover your face with your sleeves and pace back and forth in your room.
You always prided yourself on your composure. You navigate life’s twists and turns with a steady hand and a level head. At first, you brushed off these fluttering feelings as a mere passing fancy. You find yourself in front of a mental crossroads, on one hand, there is the exhilarating rush of new emotions. On the other was fear of rejection, an unconventional relationship, and possible heartbreak. If you ruin what you have with Lucifer, you will end up with nothing. All your years climbing the hierarchy would be null and void.
But what if it was possible? No, it couldn't be, there was just no way. As far as you are aware, you’ve never heard of such a situation that ended well. This can’t possibly be happening, you need some time to sort yourself out. But at some point, you are going to see him again today and you’re not sure how you’ll handle it. You always buried your feelings deep within your heart, locking them away like a precious treasure hidden from prying eyes. You’d like to think you're capable of continuing this facade, but this time you are not so sure.
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Lucifer sighs as you leave the room, your reactions are rather fascinating though. He gets up and takes his clothes to the bathroom to dress himself. Lucifer is well aware of the power dynamic here, and he has a habit of pushing things as far as he can. It comes with the territory of normally having anything he wants. He buttons his vest and looks at himself in the mirror. So what if he had a thing for his advisor? He wonders if he’s just lonely and that’s why he’s acting this way…even if that was true, it wouldn’t explain the relief he feels every time you enter a room. He puts on his coat, straightens his hat, and leaves his room to spend time in his study. 
He opens the door and notices his lunch is sitting on his desk along with some invoices to sign and an overview of yesterday's meeting. This is unusual, you normally bring him his meal and check in on his daily progress at this time. This is cause for concern, indeed. Was Y/N avoiding him? Surely that can't be true, they would never just ignore him like that. He slumps into his chair, wondering if he messed up somehow. 
Did he ruin the years of trust they had built? He still wants her around, he would hate the idea of anyone else taking your place. The more he thought about it the more the pit in his stomach grew. He attempts to eat but can’t put down much food, his nerves are making it difficult to eat. He needs to find you and apologize, he has to make this right somehow. 
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Hours go by and you’ve done your best to avoid Lucifer at all costs, but you can't keep this up forever. You are standing on a large balcony in the dining room wearing your pajamas. The sun has set and the stars are visible in the sky, there is a chill in the air. You let out a defeated sigh, you’re going to have to tell him or forget about your feelings completely. You fear that if you confessed your love, the delicate threads that bind you both together would fray and snap. If you forget and try to move on, how bad is it going to hurt when he finds a new love? It would ache so bad you might have to leave his manor entirely, you knew that if that were to happen, it would shatter Lucifer's heart.
You feel a few drops of rain fall on your skin, and as each minute passes the rain becomes heavier and heavier. You look out into the courtyard, it’s getting late and you should be heading inside but you stand there, tears in your eyes. How could you be so foolish and self-centered? You knew the rules and you chose to defy them, it's your own fault you feel so awful.
Suddenly the rain is no longer hitting you, you don't feel the cold drops on your face anymore. You turn around and Lucifer is standing in the doorway, his large wing covers you, shielding you from the rain.
“Hey…Can we talk?” He says with a soft look of concern on his face. You nod while wiping your face with your sleeves, he motions for you to come back inside. He walks slightly ahead of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He opens the door for you and gives you a small half-smile. Lucifer walks over to his desk and pours you both a glass of bourbon. He hands you a glass and you take a seat at the small table next to the window. He sits across from you, you can tell he's a bit anxious because he keeps looking away. You take a sip from your drink, hoping the alcohol will settle your nerves. 
The ambiance of the dimly lit room, the soft glow of candlelight danced upon his face. With a hesitant breath, Lucifer cleared his throat. 
“I need to apologize to you,” Lucifer says with a despairing look on his face. “I’m sure you’ve felt confused and in distress all day.” He takes a sip of his drink while trying to find the right words. “Before I begin, let me just say that I think so highly of you. Y/N, you’ve been there for me during every awful situation I’ve faced and I am so grateful for you.”
He grabs your hand and his expression changes to a more serious one. “I don't want you to leave my side. I couldn’t bear it if I did something to make you leave.”
“Sir, I–” You try to speak but Lucifer interrupts you.
“Y/N. I need you to drop the formalities for ten minutes, please.” He cuts you off and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Is there something going on between us or am I just a lonely, divorced, delusional, man making it all up in my head so I don't feel so shitty about my life?”
You are shocked by his words, you had no idea he felt that way about himself. 
“You’re not delusional, Lucifer.” You answer, it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and put them in order. “It's all my fault, really. I guess after all this time I’ve developed some feelings.”
Lucifer’s eyes widen, his face softens and he squeezes your hand and you look back into his eyes with a small smile. “I think I just got carried away, I know nothing can happen between us. It would be unacceptable and irredeemable. I’m the delusional one, to think you could ever love someone like me.” You reply while looking down at your drink, your finger toying with the rim of the glass.
Without a word, without warning, Lucifer leaned over the table and grabbed ahold of your shirt. He pulls you close so that you are face to face, leaning over the table. You could feel his breath on your lips as he said, “Love doesn't adhere to rules or expectations, darling. I will choose to defy every convention, every decree if it means I get to spend the rest of my life devoted to someone I love.”
Tears started to well up in your eyes, he slowly closed the gap between you both. His lips softly pressed against yours. Time stopped in that moment, amidst the chaos of entangled emotions. The taste was bittersweet, you’ve only ever dreamed of this. His hand lets go of your shirt and caresses your face. You kiss him back with fervor, a silent confession that speaks volumes. Both of you daring to defy the boundaries of monarchy and courtier.
You lace your fingers with his, he stands up and pulls you out of your seat. You practically fell into his arms, Lucifer held the back of your head, the other arm wrapped around your waist.
Your tears flowed freely as you hid your face in his chest. He holds you tight, offering you silent comfort as you let out quiet sobs. Lucifer strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head.
“I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize…” He says, barely above a whisper. “Just let me take care of you for once, my love.” Before you can protest, Lucifer scoops you up and gently places you on his bed. He climbs in and pulls the covers over you both. He wipes your tear-stained cheeks with his sleeve and smiles at you while you take the time you need to calm down. 
“C’mon, babe say something…You’re killing me.” He says, waiting for you to speak with bated breath.
“I love you…” You say between staggered breaths. Your eyes are locked on his, somehow Lucifer blows through the many walls you’ve put up to prevent this and you are left bare and vulnerable. It is terrifying, being this helplessly in love. Bearing the fragments of your heart to the person who held it entirely.
“I love you too, dummy.” His smile is sweet like saccharine, his voice is smooth like silk. Your lips met his once more while your fingers card through his hair. He kept you as close as possible, and in the hush of the night amidst the whispered confessions, you and your king curled up together and fell asleep once again in each other's arms. No sovereign, demon or angel could pull you two apart even if they tried. 
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brodieland · 5 months
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.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Royal Rivalries !! ´ˎ˗
Luke Castellan x Fem!Zeus!Reader Synopsis: home alone with your prince Luke, but you needed to shower.. Tag(s): Royal AU, suggestive ASF, possibly most devious thing ive written and its not even crazy bai Word Count: 2248
╰➤ MASTERLIST pt2
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A sunny day when your father isn't home is always bound to be a good day. Normally when he's home, he prefers when everyone was always dressed nicely, always in dresses or button ups. So when he leaves to visit the other kingdoms of Olympia, you take advantage walking around in sweats and shirts with no bras.
Zeus was currently in the Aphrodite kingdom, talking love and weddings and whatnot, you didn't really know, nor did you really care. It's been about two weeks of wedding talk, or two weeks since the day you got engaged. It's been sickening, you've had to sit through three dinners with Luke, trying your best not to throw something across the table every time he makes an 'assface' type of comment. Anyways, Zeus finally letting you out of sight may have been a blessing.
After snaking through your closet, you pulled some little shorts and a bikini. By the garden out behind your castle, there's a gazebo with a glass roof and lawn chairs, perfect for sunbathing.
As you skipped down the hallways, you waved off all your maids, and butlers and servants. Finally you pushed through the doors to the garden that looked straight from a painting. While walking down, you were brushing your hand along the bushes and hedges, occasionally picking and plucking some flowers and putting one in your hair.
Making it to the gazebo, you took off your shorts and laid down. The sound of the leaves and frogs could've made you fall asleep. Except, you were interrupted.
"Excuse me? Princess Y/N," it was your favorite maid, Margaret.
"Yes Margaret, is something wrong," you asked without opening your eyes.
"You have a visitor," her voice sounded somewhat nervous, and you could only guess who it was.
"If its my father, please tell him what I do in my free time is my business and my business alone."
"You gotta stop thinking I'm your dad," your eyes shot open. "It's getting a little concerning."
You looked at him, standing in front of you with the sun coating his skin in a nice golden light. He gave you a smug look, with that jagged scar stretched out on his face.
"What're you doing here," you asked as you leaned up in your seat. "Go home."
"That's no way to speak to your future husband, now is it?"
You sat fully up, crossing your arms and throwing one leg over the other, while looking up at him with an unpleasant expression. "I asked you a question."
"When did you grow to be so feisty?"
"When did you grow up to be such an ass-"
"I'm going back now," Margaret said nervously. "Bye princess."
She quickly scurried off back from where she came from. You scowled, "your scaring the help away Castellan."
"Me? You're the one with a foul mouth. What was it you said, 'that it was unbecoming of a princess?' Or is that only when daddy dearest is around?"
"Gods forbid I do something alone."
"You know, sooner than you think I'll be here for you more," you raised your brow. "One week."
You stood up, "What does 'one week' mean?"
"It means in one week I'll see you in your long white dress walking down the aisle, all for me."
Your eyes widened, "One week? Why is he rushing things??"
"Who cares," he laughed. "Personally, I can not wait."
You weren't ready for marriage. Not only were you too young, but too sober to get through a wedding with Luke. You yelled in frustration while holding your head in your hands. When you looked back up, you saw Luke's hair standing up on its self. Before freaking out, you quickly grabbed onto Luke and pulled him behind you, under the roof of the gazebo. Then a giant bolt of lightning, with a width twice the size of a telephone pole, zapped the ground where he was just standing.
"Holy.." he whispered.
"I meant full offense by the way," you panted, despite it being accidental, it took more out of you then you thought.
"Wow, almost worked yourself to death trying to kill me?"
You rolled your eyes and pushed him off as he tried catching you. When you did so, you wobbled a little. "I'm fine."
You stumbled back to your chair to grab your shorts and head back home, nearly tripping over yourself. "Lemme help you."
"I told you, I'm-" you started coughing. "I'm fine."
"Clearly," you were struggling to stay on your feet. "C'mon."
You didn't have the energy to protest as he picked you up bridal style and carried you back to the house. You tried to push him away with no luck, he really was as strong as he looked. He kept walking till he made it to the kitchen, sitting you down on top of a counter.
"S'cold in here," you shivered, rubbing your hands on whatever they could reach to create whatever warmth possible. Luke was looking inside a fridge for a bottle of water, tossing it to you.
You barely caught it and took a sip, "course your cold, you got almost nothing on."
You paid no attention to him looking you up and down as you chugged the water, some dripping from the sides of your mouth and sliding down your body. You tossed the now empty bottle aside and hopped off the counter, grabbing your shorts and walking out.
"Stop following me."
"I'm not following you, I'm just walking in the same direction," he mused.
"Find another direction, I'm going to take a shower."
"Come on wifey, let's keep the same direction," you glared at him, trying not to react at the ridiculous nickname. "You thought it was funny you can admit it."
You smacked him on the arm with your shorts, "As if."
"You know, I remember when we were younger, and your dad forced you to wear those god awful swimsuits, the long sleeves and shorts. Remember those days?"
"Gods, how could I forget," you grumbled. "The tan lines those suits would give me were outrageous."
You both chuckled before you remembered something, "hey. Let's not forget you also had a swim shirt. And a bucket hat, with the white strips on sun screen on your face."
"Okay okay we can calm down now."
"Hey, you started it, I just finished it," you threw your hands up, and Luke just rolled his eyes. You guys continued walked as you made it to your bedroom. "I was serious, I do need to take a shower now."
"Hey, we used to take baths together when we were kids, and we were engaged then too, whats so different now?"
"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just ask that," you said as you went through your drawers looking for some clean clothes.
"Nothings different, now we're just taller," he shrugged.
"You want to see me naked so bad it's sickening," you joked as you turned back around and looked at Luke. He was laid back on your bed with his arms behind his head as he just stared at you. When his short sleeves are moving up and struggling to fit against his biceps, it makes you forget what a villainous 15 year old he was. "Not even gonna deny it?"
"Nope" he cheered. "And don't act so innocent, like I didn't just catch you checking me out, princess."
"I don't know what your talking about."
"I can see it in your eyes, what you want."
"What're you talking about," you walked up, standing in front of him.
"You act like you hate me, but I don't think you really do," he said as he sat up on your bed.
"And what makes you say that," you asked as you leaned down, hands on his knees while your cleavage was popping out of your bathing suit into his face.
"Intuition?"
You gave a close-eyed smile as you smacked him upside the head, "Your intuition can eat my ass, get your head out of the gutter."
You laughed as you walked off toward your bathroom. "Your such a tease, aren't you princess?"
"Remember," you started as you leaned against the bathroom doorframe, "As I am royalty, its disrespectful to oh so brazenly stay in my bedroom, out of wedlock no less, with no supervision. What would the people say?"
"The people? Or your father, who isn't even here," he questioned. "How would he feel if he saw the clothes you hide away in your closet? Is there anything else you'd be willing to show?"
"I have my secrets," you said as you started untie your top as you shut the door before anything was revealed. You pressed your ear against the door and rustling from the other side. After a moment of rapid knocking while tying your top back, you opened the door. "Need something?"
"To shower, I'm filthy," Luke said as he walked passed you into the bathroom.
"Only thing filthy is your brain if you think I'm getting in that shower with you," you watched as he turned the shower on and take his shirt off.
"I think the filthiest thing in this room is the way you can't keep your eyes of me."
"I'm not checking you out, I'm just shocked by your sheer audacity."
"Princess, what are you, scared? Scared to shower with your fiancé?"
"Scared? Excuse me," you raised your eyebrow. "What makes you think I would ever be scared right now?"
"I think you won't be able to resist me and that aggravates you."
"Screw you," you started undoing your bathing suit and walking into the shower. Luke stood there with both eyebrows raised. "You coming in? Or are you the one with no self-control?"
"Yeah we'll see about that," he finished undressing and hopped into the shower behind you. You did your best to pay him little to no attention, but it was difficult. You kept yourself faced away, though either side of you, Luke didn't mind.
To be fair, you did want to turn around, but you stayed strong. Hard, I know. You minded your business as you shampooed your hair. "You missed a spot."
"No I didn't."
"Yeah you did," he ran his hand through your hair, softly massaging your scalp. "Right there."
It felt nice, though you weren't gonna say that. "What're you doing?"
"Washing your hair," he tightened his grip on your hair, slowly pulling your head back to look at him. "What're you thinking? Something dirty?"
"You speak to me much too freely, have you no respect," you turned completely as you pointed your finger into his chest, making sure you keep eye contact.
"Of course I do, I plan to treat you with nothing but the upmost respect," he grabbed your finger, interlocking his hand in yours, while his words were laced with arrogance.
"You drown in your over-confidence, I hope you know. And we both know you came in here thinking you were going to get lucky, didn't you?"
"Ah so you see, I'm already lucky to be in here," he smiled.
"Oh Luke, flattery gets you no where."
"You could always let it get me somewhere."
"Why should I, did your little Aphrodite princess let you get lucky?"
"Wouldn't you like to know what we've done," he leaned down into your face.
"As you're your future wife, don't you think I'm entitled to know your past," you raised your brow at him. "Why, do you think she'd be better than anything I'd be able to do?"
"What makes you think I slept with her?"
"Well.. did you," you quickly asked, upset with how interested you sounded.
"Your cute when your jealous," he moved his hand that was still in your hair down to your jaw, making sure you were looking up at him.
"I'm not jealous, what is there to be jealous of?"
"So you wouldn't care if I had sex with her? You wouldn't care about being not being my first?"
You stayed silent. "Though of course, as my future wife, you are entitled to all that information. All the details." He kept talking and you started getting upset. "What was it you wanted to know? How long it lasted, how many times we had sex, how many different positions we did?"
"Shut. up," you stared into his chest, but he just pulled your face back up to look at him.
"What was that?"
"I told you to shut up," you moved his hands and let go of him as you walked out the shower, grabbing a towel and covering yourself. You hated the way that crush from when you were 14 still lingered, even more when he talks about the girl he cheated with. It could've been you who... yeah. You moved so you were no longer in his sight as you dried off.
"I never did," he called out. You contemplated ignoring him.
"Did what."
"Her," he paused. "I never did her."
That made you weirdly happy, but you didn't let it show. "That's all I wanted to know."
"You coming back in?"
"No I don't think so, I'm feeling squeaky clean," you walked past the shower with your towel wrapped around your body as you made your way to the door. "But if you still feeling filthy, stay as long as you need."
You laughed and shut the door behind you, Lukes eyes lingering as you did so. This was going to be fun.
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natsaffection · 6 months
Text
Mafia's Mistress pt. 1 | N.R
MafiaBoss!Natasha x Civilian!YoungerReader
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Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22), kinda manipulative Nat, Oral and fingering (r receiving), restraints, begging, edging and normal stuff :v
Word Count: 4,8 K
A/N: First of many parts is here! I want to post about it every Sunday, so if you want to be tagged, let me know and have fun! 🫱🏼‍🫲🏻
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Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined that you would be sitting in such a large penthouse, with hundreds of security guards around you who only have one order: to keep you safe.
Never would you have thought that you would no longer have to worry about money, or what you would do if you were running low at the end of the month. Never would you have thought that this one person would turn out to be the strongest and most feared woman in the world.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Six Month ago ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
In the heart of the bustling city, where neon lights painted the streets pink and blue, you hurriedly made your way through the crowded sidewalks, your heart pounding with excitement and fear as you clutched your books tightly to your chest.
The rhythmic hum of the city enveloped you, a symphony of car horns, distant chatter, and the occasional street performer's tune. As you rounded a corner, your hasty steps faltered, causing you to collide with a figure cloaked in shadow. A gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled back, your books slipping from your grasp and scattering across the sidewalk like fallen leaves.
Your heart was racing in your chest as you looked up, your eyes widening in surprise as you met the piercing gaze of a woman in front of you. She stand tall and imposing, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders like a waterfall, framing a face that exuded an aura of mystery and danger. Your breath caught, a mixture of fear and curiosity swirling inside you like a tempestuous storm.
The woman bore into you with a piercing gaze, studying you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, the tension thickening like syrup as the world around you seemed to fade into the background.
"I-I'm so sorry," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
The woman's expression remained invisible as she raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, her gaze still on you. The silence between you stretched, full of unspoken questions and unspoken emotions. “You don’t need to apologize,” her voice was a melodic blend of honey and ice, each word carefully weighed and imbued with a hidden depth that sent a chill down your spine once again. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, had an enigmatic glow, as if they could see through your innermost being and unravel the layers of your soul with a single glance.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
As you and the woman settled into a cozy corner of the bustling cafe, the scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you in a warm embrace. You couldn’t help but cast coy glances at the woman in front of you.
“So,” Natasha, how she introduced herself began with silky elegance as she took a sip of her coffee, “What made you offer me a coffee as an apology?” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the weight of guilt once again weighing on your heart. "I just felt really bad about bumping into you," you admit, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "And I wanted to make it up to you somehow."
Natasha looked at you with a knowing look, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, you certainly know how to make a first impression," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I have to admit, I was a little surprised by your offer." You couldn't help but feel a wave of relief at Natasha's words, your fear melting away like snow under the warm spring sun.
"I'm glad you accepted," you say, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "I was worried you'd find it weird." Natasha giggled softly, which was music to your ears. "Believe me, I've encountered far stranger things in my line of work," she said cryptically, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "But I have to admit, this is a first for me." As you both talked, Natasha's phone buzzed incessantly in her pocket, a constant reminder of the world outside her little bubble.
With practiced ease, she discreetly checked her messages, her expression unreadable as she absorbed the information being relayed to her. You can't help but notice the subtle change in Natasha's demeanor, the way her expression softened ever so slightly as she glanced at her phone.
Before you could think about it any further, Natasha pocketed her phone and turned her attention back to you, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, tell me more about yourself. What do you do when you're not bumping into mysterious strangers on the street?"
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the question, your fingers tightening around your coffee cup.
"Um, my name is Y/n, I'm a journalist.." When you told her, Natasha's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, her eyes widening with interest. "Journalist?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with curiosity. "That's.. fascinating. Why did you choose this profession?" Your heart skipped a beat at Natasha's genuine interest, a warmth spreading through you as she realized Natasha was genuinely interested in you. "I've always loved telling stories," you explain, your voice growing more confident with each word. "As a journalist, I can shed light on important issues and give a voice to those who need it most."
Natasha leaned closer to you, her eyes shining with admiration. "That's incredibly noble," she said seriously, her words making you tremble with excitement. "I have to admit, I've never met a journalist before. This must be quite an adventure." As they continued to chat, you felt her opening up to Natasha in a way she hadn't with anyone else. Natasha's genuine interest calmed you down and made you feel valued and appreciated.
You gathered up all your courage and decided to ask Natasha's question herself, "What do you do for a living?" Natasha's smile disappeared for a split second, a barely perceptible hint of hesitation crossing her face before she regained her composure. "Oh, I work in marketing," she answered smoothly, her voice betraying none of the uncertainty that lingered in her head.
"That sounds interesting too," you say in a polite tone, trying to hide your lingering curiosity. “What do you like most about it?” Natasha’s smile widened, relief flooding through her as you accepted her answer without further questioning, “I love the creative aspect of it,” Natasha replied, her words flowing effortlessly as she slipped into the role of the confident professional. “Coming up with new ideas and strategies to promote products and services is a challenge, but a rewarding one.”
As the two of you continued your conversation in the cozy corner of the busy cafe, Natasha couldn’t help but notice the genuine warmth and innocence you exuded. Despite the complexity of her own life and the secrets she kept, Natasha found herself drawn to the simplicity and sincerity of your interaction.
It was rare that she let her guard down and had a conversation without the weight of her past weighing on her, but with you, it felt effortless.
As your conversation reached its peak, however, Natasha’s phone buzzed with an urgent message. Her expression remained stoic as she looked at the screen, "Y/n, I'm sorry, but I have to go," Natasha said in an apologetic tone as she quickly packed up her things. "Something came up at work."
Your heart sank at the abrupt change of plans, but you nodded in understanding, hiding your disappointment behind a polite smile. "Of course, I hope everything is okay?"
Natasha smiled reassuringly at you, although there was something unreadable in her eyes. "Everything will be fine," she said with more conviction than you expected.
Before you could even offer to pay for her coffee, Natasha quickly reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet.
"Let me take care of this, as a thank you for the time," Natasha insisted, her voice firm but gentle as she approached the counter to settle the bill. Despite the haste in her movements, Natasha's demeanor remained calm, her actions swift and purposeful.
You watched in surprise as Natasha paid for both coffees, a small gesture that spoke volumes amidst the chaos of her abrupt departure.
"Thank you," you say quietly as you walk towards the door. Natasha smiled warmly at you, her eyes softening with genuine affection. "It was a pleasure, Y/n," she replied in a soft voice, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
And with that, Natasha disappeared into the busy streets of the city, leaving you standing alone in the entrance of the cafe.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Later this Day ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Dark clouds loomed over you as you moved stealthily through the deserted alleys of the city, your camera at the ready and your senses on high alert. You had received an anonymous tip about illegal dealings taking place in secret, and you were determined to gather evidence for your next story.
As you carefully snapped photos of the desolate surroundings, you didn't notice the figure lurking behind it until it was almost too late. With a startled gasp, you stumbled backwards, your heart racing as you turned to face the unexpected intruder.
To your surprise, Natasha stood before you, a shadowy figure in the dimly lit alley. Your breath caught as you met Natasha's piercing gaze, a feeling of unease settling over you like a thick fog.
"N-Natasha?" you greet carefully, your voice tinged with suspicion as you eye the woman in front of you.
Natasha's expression softened as she looked at you with amusement, a playful glint appearing in her eyes. "Well, what a surprise to see you again," Natasha remarked with a wry smile. "Are you following me by any chance?"
Your suspicion grew at Natasha's light-hearted remark, your head racing with questions about the woman's true intentions. "I could ask you the same," you reply, your tone tinged with skepticism as you watch Natasha's every move.
Natasha's smile vanished for a moment, a hint of uncertainty crossing her face before she regained her composure. "Touché," she replied with a giggle, although there was a hint of tension in her voice. "Maybe we're just two ships passing each other in the night."
As raindrops began to fall from the darkening sky, Natasha's demeanor changed and a mischievous glint came into her eyes. "Looks like it's about to pour," she remarked with a mischievous grin. "Why don't we leave this desolate alley and find somewhere more.. inviting?"
You nod, still stunned that you've met again. As you make your way to a slightly brighter area, you can't shake the feeling that Natasha is looking you up and down and you speak up again,
"So..." you begin, your voice laced with suspicion as you glance sideways at the enigmatic woman next to you. "What were you really doing back there? Looking for your next victim?"
You try to lighten the mood with a mischievous joke, although the tension between you was somehow palpable. Natasha chuckled softly, her eyes flickering with amusement as she considered your joke. "See through it..." she replied ironically, her voice laced with a hint of desire. "But I'm afraid the truth is far less exciting than you might think."
Your brow furrowed in confusion, your mind racing to decipher Natasha's cryptic words. "Less exciting?" you repeat, your voice laced with uncertainty. Natasha nodded, her expression carefully neutral as she met your gaze. "Yes," she replied quietly, her mind preoccupied with the image of you in her bed. What?
"You know, I was... hoping to find someone and I seem to have gotten a little carried away and ended up in the right place at the right time." Natasha's excuse and lie took a completely different turn than she had originally intended. But better this way than that.
Your eyes widened as you realized what Natasha had said and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "Oh," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I understand." Natasha's desire burned even hotter at your reaction, her head racing at the thought of having you all to herself. What is wrong with her?
"How about it?" Your breath caught in your throat as you fought to keep your composure. Your mind was clouded by Natasha's proximity. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, I shouldn't have... um, whatever." But Natasha's desire burned too fiercely to be ignored, and she couldn't resist the temptation to take what she wanted. "You know what?" she said suddenly, her tone dripping with seduction. "Since you're already here, why don't you come to my place? I could make us something to eat and then we'll see where it takes us, what do you think?" Your eyes widened in surprise at Natasha's unexpected invitation, your heart racing with excitement and concern.
"Oh, I don't know..." you begin, your voice full of uncertainty. But Natasha's desire burned too fiercely to be suppressed, and she couldn't resist the urge to push you further. "We can just eat. Continue our conversation from the coffee shop.” she said now in a gentle tone so as not to push her away
And when you hesitated for a moment and uncertainty flickered in your eyes, Natasha's unwavering gaze and her energetic tone convinced you to take the leap into the unknown. “But you promise me not to kill me in secret, okay?” Natasha rolled her eyes inwardly, your sweet little manner does something to her. “Promise.”
You had imagined her area exactly like that. Natasha seems classy, ​​elegant to you and so does her apartment. Small, simple, modern. Her interior looks exactly like that. She goes into the kitchen, “Are you of legal age yet?” The question threw you off track a little, was that ironic? Did she mean it - “That was a joke... loosening up, you're stiff.” You smile nervously. Maybe it all happened too quickly for you. Natasha puts two wine glasses on the table and brings a bottle of water, "Take what you want," she leans across from you. You sit on the plush sofa and wait for something. Anything.
"You know, I'm not used to getting to know people." You were glad that she finally said something, so you could at least carry on a conversation now, "That's it. You're going to kill me." You answer sarcasm-wise. Natasha grinned again, "What makes you always think that?" You unconsciously bite your lip and scratch the rim of the glass in your hand with your nails. "I don't know...You...Please don't take this negatively, but you look like that sometimes.." As you continue to babble about your own words, Natasha only thinks one thing. That's how it should be.
Natasha laughed softly and put her glass on the table. "Well, maybe I just like to keep the people around me guessing. Am I a killer? Am I just a poor, lonely woman looking for her pleasure in the night? Or something else entirely? It's exciting to reveal who you really are, bit by bit. It's a dance of seduction...and I like to think I'm an artist in that regard."
You felt your pulse quicken and your gaze fell to Natasha's lips. "I wouldn't mind seeing you like this..." You put everything on the line. You want her.
Natasha shifted in her seat, a devilish glint in her eyes. "You say that like you're ready for a private performance," she teased. You met her gaze, the tension in the room running like a wire. "Maybe I am..." you admitted. Natasha's mouth twisted into a slow, knowing smile. With a quick movement, she drank the rest of her wine and raised her eyebrow. "Well, since this seems to be the premiere of a solo exhibition, maybe I should leave the stage and take a bow."
You felt your face turn red. "I-I'd love to," you said, your breath catching. Natasha rose, an aura of seductive confidence surrounding her like a second skin as she walked around the coffee table. You watched, heart pounding, as Natasha stood between your outstretched legs. Slowly, she reached for your water glass and placed it next to her own, her movements deliberate and graceful. "I want your full attention," she murmured, her minty breath blowing against your face.
You nodded, your voice catching in your throat as Natasha lowered herself and your lips met in a feverish kiss. You felt Natasha's hands brush against your sides. Natasha chucked, her voice glowing with desire. "You're so nervous." She pulled back, her piercing green eyes meeting yours.
"Let me help you." Natasha's hands began to explore your body, her touch like fire on your skin. Slowly, she unbuttoned your blouse, her lips brushing against your neck with each button she unbuttoned. You arched your back and moaned softly as Natasha's lips touched your bare skin and her tongue found its way to the curve of your breast.
Natasha teased your nipples with her teeth, pulling and sucking until you were squirming in her lap and your fingers were clutching Natasha's red locks. Natasha's hands moved further down and reached for the zipper of your jeans. She pulled it down slowly, her fingers brushing against your inner thigh. You bit your lip and your hips jerked as Natasha's hand entered your panties and found them soaking wet and ready for her touch.
Natasha teased your opening, her fingers circling your clit in slow, deliberate movements that made you squirm with desire. "N-Natasha.." you gasped, your fingers clinging tighter to Natasha's hair. "Don't tease m-me.." Natasha groaned and her fingers continued to dance over your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "You wanted a private showing. I'll give it to you," Natasha purred, her fingers dipping into your wetness. She stroked you slowly and teasingly before sliding two fingers inside you.
You moaned and your head fell back as Natasha's fingers began to move in a steady rhythm. Natasha's thumb circled your clit, increasing the pressure inside you. "O-Oh.." you gasped, your hands grabbing Natasha's shoulders. Natasha grinned as she felt the walls of your pussy clench around her fingers. "You like that?" she taunted in a deep, sensual voice. "You like how I fuck you with my fingers and make you wetter than ever?"
You could only nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as Natasha continued to stroke you. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body shaking with pleasure. Natasha's fingers were relentless, driving you higher and higher until you were a writhing mess on her lap. Suddenly Natasha pulled her fingers out, making you gasp in need.
"No, no, no," you whimper, your body begging for more. Natasha giggled, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Patience, I'm not done with you yet." She stood up, took your hands and pulled you up with her. Natasha led you to the nearby wall, pressing your back against it as you lowered your head to hide your noises from her. She could feel your hands wandering over her body, Natasha's hips grinding against you, searching for friction.
"Do you want me to fuck you, Y/n?" You nodded, your breath catching as Natasha's teeth grazed your neck. "Yes, please..” you pleaded, your voice hoarse with desire. Natasha's lips curved into a smile against your skin and she reached for the button of her own jeans. With a wave of her hand, they opened, revealing matching lacy underwear that left little to the imagination. You couldn't help but stare, your mouth going dry as Natasha stepped closer, your bodies snuggled close together. "Do you like what you see?" Natasha purred, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Then let me show you more."
Natasha reached out a hand to you, "Excited?" Skeptically, you followed Natasha close on her heels as the red-haired woman led you through her sprawling home. You meandered through the luxurious interior, which was decorated with sleek, modern furniture. Some rooms were light and airy, while others were softly lit with lamps and strategically placed candles.
You reached a room door hidden in a dark, secluded hallway, different from the rest of the house. Your heart raced, and your anticipation grew. This had to be her bedroom.
Natasha turned, looked over her shoulder, and caught your eye. "One thing I want to make sure of. If you feel uncomfortable, we can always go back to the living room, okay?"
Her green eyes shone with dark passion. You swallowed hard and nodded. You were nervous and excited at the same time with the anticipation of what was to come. Natasha smiled, her mouth twisting into a mischievous grin as she opened the door. "Welcome to my playroom," Natasha purred, reaching for a dimmer switch that gently bathed the room in a soft, seductive light.
Your eyes widened at the sight before you. Leather-clad walls were adorned with provocative artwork depicting scenes of bondage and domination. A steel frame loomed menacingly in one corner, and the air was filled with an indefinable, dark eroticism. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. Your breath caught as you took in the room, your body tingling with excitement and your stomach fluttering. Natasha stepped forward, her heels clicking imperiously on the stone floor. "What do you think?" You look at everything, let a few things slide through your hands and turn back to her, "I've always read about it...but never thought I'd...you know." Natasha smiled gently, "You don't have to be afraid. I promise you'd enjoy it." The voice was hypnotic, her words weaving a sensual spell. You nod, unable to find your voice as you surrendered to the moment.
Natasha moved closer to you, your bodies touching. Her hand reached out, gently caressing your cheek before moving down to her neck and resting gently on her pulse. "There's something about you. You're curious, exciting and open-minded. I want to show you what I like, what I love and what I desire. I want you to trust me and enjoy every moment. Surrender and I will guide you through an unforgettable experience."
Natasha's voice echoed through the room and you felt a surge of lust and adrenaline building in yours. You nodded again and whispered, "I trust you." With a mischievous grin, Natasha led you to the imposing steel bondage frame. She began to remove your clothing layer by layer, revealing your pale skin and the goosebumps that covered your body. Her fingers gently stroked your trembling body, increasing your anticipation.
You stood there, trembling with desire, as Natasha secured your wrists and ankles to a frame with soft, velvety shackles. Unyielding metal surrounded you, holding you captive, but instead of being afraid, you felt an incredible sense of freedom. Your body was at the mercy of this woman, this mysterious and sensual creature in front of you. Natasha moved around you, admiring you from every angle. "You're breathtaking," she murmured, running her fingertips over your torso.
You gasped at the touch, the warmth of Natasha's hand sending shivers down your spine. Your chest heaved, your heart pounding in your ears. Natasha's eyes locked on yours, and you knew that this woman had completely captivated you. "Do you trust me, Y/n?" Natasha asked in a deep and sensual voice.
"Yes," you whisper, unable to hide the desire etched on your face. Natasha's grin widened. "Good." And with that, she leaned forward, her lips pressed against yours with insatiable hunger. Their mouths moved in sync, exploring each other, their tongues dancing with each other like old lovers reuniting after a long separation. You moaned as Natasha's hand moved between your legs, parting your labia and finding your clit. She stroked it gently, sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body.
You whimpered, your eyes fluttering shut. Natasha continued to caress and tease you, moving her hand to gently thrust two fingers into your wet heat. Your hips bucked wildly, your body begging for more. Natasha grinned against your lips and thrust harder and faster, her fingertips grazing your G-spot.
You gasped, your whole body shaking as the familiar pressure of an orgasm built inside you. Natasha's lips found your ear, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't come yet. Not until I give you permission."
You continued to whimper and your eyes fluttered shut. "Please, Natasha," you begged, your voice hoarse and desperate, getting closer and closer to the edge of your climax. "No, not yet..." Natasha growled. "If you can't follow simple instructions, I'll have to punish you. And believe me, you don't want that." Natasha's voice was heavy with desire, her words silky and coated with promises.
Your body trembled, your breath caught as you shook your head. Natasha's hand moved away from your sex, making you tremble with anticipation. She stood behind you, her body pressed against yours from behind, her hands gripping your hips.
"Good girl," Natasha whispered in your ear, her lips brushing your earlobes. She trailed her lips down your neck, biting and sucking gently. "Please…" you begged, not even sure what you were begging for anymore. Natasha's hands moved from your hips, up your torso, tracing the curve of your breast before reaching up to gently grip your neck.
"Not yet," she said again, her voice a low rumble in your ear. Despite the pain between her legs, you breathed deeply and evenly, concentrating on the heady mix of pleasure and pain coursing through your body. Natasha's fingers on your neck sent shivers down your spine, the metal frame in your back a constant, comforting reminder of your vulnerability.
You were hoarse, desperate and full of longing. Natasha's lips curled into a wicked smile, her eyes shining with desire as she slowly sank to her knees. Her hands slid over your trembling thighs, gently pushing them apart and giving her unhindered access.
Your breath caught as Natasha's tongue darted out and circled your aching clitoris in slow, deliberate circles. You shuddered, the mixture of lust and anticipation driving you wild. With each stroke of Natasha's tongue, your hips bucked, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, the buildup of your orgasm threatening to overwhelm you. But Natasha didn't let you come yet.
"Beg for it," she commanded in a firm but hoarse voice. The command made you shudder. You were soaking wet and aching for release, but you held back, enjoying the delicious agony. "Please, Natasha, make me come. I'm begging you!!”
But Natasha was relentless, refusing to let you find your release. Instead, she teased you with slow, gentle flicks of her tongue, occasionally sucking your swollen clit into her mouth. Your toes curled, your fingers clenched into fists as Natasha continued her torture. "F-Fuck, Natasha, I'm so c-close.." you whimper, trying to push your hips against Natasha's mouth.
But Natasha's grip on your thighs tightened, holding you still and prolonging her torment. "Do you deserve to come?" Natasha asked, her voice muffled against your smooth skin. She felt like an agonizing tease on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. "Yes, yes I do.." you gasped, your head spinning with lust and desperation.
Natasha's giggle sent shivers down your spine. With one final agonizing flick of her tongue, she granted you a reprieve, sending you spinning over the edge with devastating precision. “You can let go, Malysh.”
"Yes, fuck YES!" you screamed, arching your back as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over your body. Natasha continued to tease and probe, prolonging every last tremor until you were left breathless and limp in your bonds. You stand there, panting and shaking, enjoying the euphoria coursing through your veins.
Natasha stands up, her eyes dark with desire, and leans in to whisper in your ear. "You know what I mean, Detka? That was just a taste," Natasha murmurs, her lips brushing your earlobes. "I want to give you more, so much more. Will you let me?" You nod exhaustedly, your breath catching with every word Natasha speaks in your ear. You were helpless, tied up and at the mercy of this woman. You couldn't resist the lure of what Natasha was offering you. "Good girl," Natasha praised, her voice heavy with desire.
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goaways-stuff · 9 months
Text
Sunshine's Baked Goods
Tim Bradford x gn!baker!reader
Summary: Long shifts rarely end in such wonderful things
Rating: PG, but I'm an 18+ page
Warnings: none! fluff. No physical descriptions of reader, just that they like pink.
a/n: requested! To the person who requested, I'm so sorry, tumblr deleted my og post & I lost the request & user. Please comment & I'll tag you!! Briefly looked over, but not Beta'd
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It was the morning after a long night shift, and all Tim wanted to do was go home and crash on the closest soft surface, but his stomach was ravenous for a bite to eat first. He tried to ignore it as he packed his stuff to go home, though he knew he would need something. 
It was still pretty early, the sun had barely risen, and not many places were open yet as he drove around, looking for something to eat. His stomach rumbled as he finally saw an open sign lit up. A small bakery right outside of town. His eyes were heavy as he stepped out, his senses overwhelmed with the sweet scent of fresh baked goods and…coffee? Oh, he had hit the jackpot. Definitely not his normal post shift snack choice, with the pink decor looking like a barbie puked on it, but it was open, and it smelled good.
The store was barren as he stepped in, the only sound was the little bell attached to the door, alerting you that a customer had come in. You furrowed your brows and looked up at the clock on the wall. Just past 6 in the morning. Yeah, you were open, but you never got customers this early. You just came in early to get a headstart on baking and decorating cakes. You wiped your hands, though you were sure you still had frosting stains somewhere on your body as you went out to the front with your signature customer service smile. 
“Good morning, what can I-” You were awestruck by the man standing in front of the counter. Tall, muscular, a hunk of a man. “...do for you.” You finished quickly, trying not to ogle. 
Tim looked over the small menu above you, seeing the variety of baked goods available. He looked in the glass, settling on a plain donut and black coffee. As you got a second look at him, you noticed the bags under his eyes and the look of exhaustion on his face and in his body.
“Do you want me to make that an espresso for you?” You asked as you rang him up.
“Not this time, thanks. ‘Bout to head home and crash.” He chuckled, the small smile lighting up the whole room, causing your heart to speed up. 
“Professionalism!” You reminded yourself as you nodded, ringing in the coffee as a water. It was your business, after all. A little discount for a nice customer every once in a while is just good customer service.  
You turned around, pouring a cup of the freshly brewed coffee and making sure to grab the best-looking donut. 
Tim swore to himself he saw you glancing at him. He tried to convince himself that he was just tired, and the attractive person behind the counter was just being polite. He couldn't help but glance back as he watched you make the coffee. And when he finally took the first sip, he swore you had to have put something extra in there. Perfectly brewed, smooth, not too bitter. The donut was soft and melted in his mouth. He thanked you and went on his way, sure that he was just so sleep deprived that he was imagining things. Imagining a connection.
But that didn't stop him from coming back. It became a regular thing after, especially long shifts. You always greeted him with a smile, but he swore again that there was an extra sparkle that wasn't there with other customers. The hot, grumpy man is what he became to you. All your employees made sure to get you when he came around. Though he was never rude, just quiet and to the point. 
You always made sure he had the freshest brew of coffee and the best donut, even if that meant going to the back to the warmer to get one. His order was so simple, yet perfection every single time. 
It was another late night, and you were getting ready to close shop when he came in. You smiled. It was easy to get annoyed when customers came in so close to closing, but you didn't care for him. He looked especially tired, so you brewed him a fresh coffee since you had already discarded the batch that had been sitting for a while. You took care to warm the donut up as something in your body pulled you to take a risk. As he sat down, you wrote your number down on the receipt, at the very bottom. You had to take a chance at some point.
You handed him his food. He always stayed to eat, though it never took him more than ten minutes. You went to the back to finish closing, not wanting to admit to yourself that you were too much of a coward to face him. He left as normal, and you were a little disheartened. Maybe he just didn't see it yet, you told yourself. Or maybe he's taken. Or maybe he just doesn't like you. You tried to calm your spiraling thoughts as you closed, turning off the pink neon open sign. 
You tried not to, but you checked your phone far too often that night, hoping for a text. It wasn't until the next afternoon when you got a text from a new number. You were over the moon, clutching the phone to your chest as your life played out like a movie. The chat ended with a date at a higher end restaurant across town that weekend. It was all you could think about that week. You hummed love songs and made more couple's themed cakes than normal. 
Even at the station, Tim's coworkers noticed his good mood. A little less harsh on all the “Tim Tests,” a little less snappy with his orders. It was the talk between all of his coworkers. 
Date night came, and you scrambled to pit yourself together. Everything about you had to be perfect. Pink accents complimented your outfit. He was even coming to pick you up like a true gentleman, a bouquet of pink roses in hand. So he picked up on that. 
You gracefully took his arm as he led you to his car, his hand right above your knee the whole way. Protective but gentle, not wanting to push any boundaries. He smiled the whole time, more than you had ever seen him before. 
And, of course, the night went great, starting off with the essentials of getting to know each other, but diving a little deeper into what the both of you are looking for in a relationship. He had you giddy the whole night, drowning you in compliments, giving a pink flush to your face. You were no stranger to the flirtations either, compliments flowing about his suit, his freshly cut hair, and how it enhanced his sharp features. 
Your heart fluttered from the butterflies flying in your stomach the whole night, and a longing for more had already set in before the night had ended. He drove you home, walking you to your door step.
“So, next Friday?” He smiled, wanting to hear the reassurance for the next date.
“Yep.” You responded, hearts for eyes. He looked at you, his eyes soft, flashing to your lips, plush and strawberry tinted. It aas a moment of silence, but not the awkward kind. It was filled with tension, begging for one of you to break it. Ultimately, he brought a hand to your face, rough and calloused with a gentle touch, bring you to him as he connected his lips to yours. For such a brooding guy, his lips were soft as ever, lovingly exploring yours. You hands wrapped around his neck as his other hand made it to your waist. It lasted forever but not long enough as you had to pull away for a breath of hair. He followed up with a small peck to the lips and a confident smile. 
“I'll see you then,” He said, though you both knew he'd be coming to the shop before then. 
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chosoisamalewife · 6 months
Note
* Sees the angst tag in the masterlist * me: 😈
I request the finest dish of Sukuna and Male reader, with the drink being Angst. Sukuna had kept his Male servant around in the heian era and began to have a soft spot for him. But when he found a servant's dead body, he began to go mad. Now, the rest is up to you.
Sukuna x male!reader
A/N : I am a big angst lover so the moment I saw this request I squealed and instantly started writing
A/N : I gotten inspiration from the last of us opening for the death scene. Also Sukuna and reader had a special thing 😉😉 ALSO SUKUNA IS HEAVILY OOC
Sukuna wasn’t a kind man,well he wasn’t a man to begin with, he was a curse object that hated basically everything. He wasn’t kind at all, he was rough and mean. He was one thing that has zero weakness or so he thought. There was you he never understood why he adored you so much. You were a pesky human to him, a mere servant of his. However he couldn’t help but to be soft and patient with you. He felt pathetic every time he saw you smile, every time he saw your eyes and skin glowing in the sun light. The way you looked at everything with kind eyes, even him, a monstrous being. The way you trace the patterns all over his body, your fingertips grazing his skin gently like he was fragile glass as your soothing voice spoke. Oh your voice was something he could listen to always, it was one of a kind to him. He hated it but oh he couldn’t tell you to stop. You were a weakness to him and he hated, he hated everything about it, yet he couldn’t get rid of you.
He has even tried to, there has been many times he has thought about killing you. He has pictured it many times and many different ways, sometimes they come out of the blue. The other times is when you are sleeping peacefully next to him, his eyes starring at your resting face trailing them down looking at all the marks from him. He couldn’t help but to imagine ripping your heart out right then and there, doing the same thing you have done to him, making you feel the same pain.
You didn’t understand it either why he was so gentle to you. When you first became his servant he treated you like the other. He was cold and ruthless to you, the only person you saw he even remotely nice to was uruame. The first time that you saw something different from was when you bumped into by accident. The force of him basically knocked the breath out of your lungs. You just stared up at him with fear as he just stared down at you. You gotten on your knees "I'm sorry King. I must have been distracted I didn't see you." Your voice shook with fear. He reached one of his hands down offering it to you. You looked at him confused
"Are you gonna take it or what?" He asked without any emotion or tone to his voice. You put your hand in his helping you raise up. From there you saw him slowly began to soften. He knew the track you walked in the castle so he eventually start to intercept that track. He knew you liked to paint so he start to let you go outside to do that with his "supervision" of course. You had a favorite spot too, it was under a tree surrounded by flowers, so he had other servant set up a area for you there. He stood out there with you for the most of it he wanted to make sure you didn't run away. But that was just an excuse. He stood out there because of how peacefully you looked. He liked how you looked when you concentrate, he liked how your strong hands look holding the brush. He also did it to make sure that no one would disturb you.
One thing he hated more than how gentle you were, was the way you looked when you cry. Sukuna wasn’t a patient being which caused a lot of fights between the two of y’all. Sukuna never felt the need to apologize to anyone or anything but with you he just couldn’t help it. He felt the need to apologize especially after a bad one. Such as the recent one, he was sitting on his throne thinking of the way your eyes filled with tear before you stormed off. The way you yelled “If you are so tired of me then kill me! Do it already!”
He decided to ask uraume to make your favorite dishes as a act of him apologizing to you. When he brought the food up to your door. He could hear sniffling. He thought your were still upset so he put the tray on the floor and knocked gently on your door. "Y/N, I know you're probably still upset but here is some food. " That’s when he heard you say his name but it wasn't normal. It was odd like you were hurt. He opened the door to find you bleeding on the floor.
He ran to your body lying on the ground, the was a big gash from your chest to your torso. “Y/N, going to be okay.” He took you in his arms trying to pick you up which caused you to scream in pain. “ I know, I know but you have to let me. I have to get you help.” He tried again, your nails were digging into his skin as you screamed. “I know baby, I know.” Baby was a nickname that he has never used until now, it was always brat. He stood up half way before the grip you had on him let go and everything went silent. Your body fell limp in his arms. “Y/N” He sat down on the ground with your body cradle in his arms. He sat there just staring at the opened window. If he wasn’t late he could’ve caught that person, the thing that killed you. Or he could've killed it before it hurt you. The thing that took you from him. He’s going to hunt them but he doesn’t want to kill them. No, killing them would be to humane. He wants to torture them until their body can’t take it and give up.
He sits there for hours in the the silence of what use to be your lively room. What once was a room filled with laughter, talking, and other noises is now a room with nothing. The sound of the door opening interrupted his thought. He turned his head looking at the intruder, it was another servant. “My kin-“ the servant wasn’t even able to get the full word out before a slash went through his body. Uraume eventually came the fetch the body before leaving sukuna alone again. It began a repeated process of servants intruding to only be killed in a second
This went on for 3 days, your body started to decay but he didn’t move. He stayed there not caring about the decay or the smell. “Sukuna” Uraume opened the door gently. He stared at them with a look in his eyes that they have never seen before. Was it heartbreak, anger, madness that he didn’t want to let out. Simply because he didn’t want to disturb your resting body.
“I don’t want to fucking hear it.” He barked at them. They crouch in front of him leaving your body in between them.
“Sukuna, I think we should give him a proper burial. He doesn’t deserve to rot here.” He sat there for a second considering it. "Please" They pleaded with him hoping to get in his mind. He nodded slowly. "Where do you want to bury him"
"I know a place." Sukuna and Uraume put you in beautiful clothing before burying you along with your paint and brushes. Your favorite place became your resting place, under the tree surrounded by flowers.
For hours the quiet castle became home to thunderous yells the sound of things being thrown. No one even dared to ask Sukuna if he was okay, it was clear to what would happen. They would become like those painting of yours that he has ripped up. Those gorgeous painted vases shattered on the floor, he didn't care about the glass stabbing his feet. Everything reminded you of him and he wanted it all gone, it all destroyed and dead just like you. Sukuna's madness went as far as killing every other servant that met you. They knew that you were a weakness to him and he couldn't let them live. He made sure that only him and Uraume remembered you.
Over the course of centuries you began to fade into the back of his mind, a place that he will never tap back into. Those memories no longer had the same effect on him. They didn’t make him soft like they use to. They made him angry, viewing them as a time that he was weak. He even forgot that he was on a hunt looking for the person or curse that killed you. If anything he now wishes it was him that did it. He sees you as having a victory over him simply because he couldn't. You were his biggest regret and now you exist forvever in the back in his mind. You were like a thorn in his foot that he can never get out. No matter how much it annoyed him, it will always be there so he learned to ignore it.
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cece693 · 29 days
Text
Protect (Hannibal Lecter x Gender Neutral Reader)
Summary: You didn't care if people were against your relationship with Hannibal, calling you all names under the sun for managing to 'bewitch' one of Baltimore's highest socialites, but Hannibal was a different story.
tags: teaching a lesson, Hannibal really just wants to protect you, murder (duh)
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"Hannibal, please tell me you didn't kill him." You whined, looking at your lover, who couldn't even bother to feign confusion, simply letting one of those small, knowing smiles grace his face.
You turned back to TattleCrime, reading all about the mysterious disappearance of Alan Wright, one of Baltimore's more notable socialites. Theories of who could've done it, along with useless testimonies from people who 'loved' him and wanted him back, filled the page. With a frustrated sigh, you closed the laptop and stood up from the couch.
"We talked about hunting too close to home. What if they trace it back to you?"
"They won't." Hannibal reassured, his voice laced with a smugness that you couldn’t help but resent. If you were a normal person, the knowledge that you were sleeping with a cannibalistic serial killer would have sent you running for the hills, but you weren’t sane.
Hannibal's ideology, while disturbing, was understandable, honorable even. Rudeness was intolerable (something you wholeheartedly agreed with), but you could overlook it under special circumstances—this moment constitutes as one.
"Hannibal, you can't kill every person who speaks unfavorably of me. That would draw even more unwanted attention from the police and FBI."
Hannibal’s jaw clenched, a clear signal that your words had struck a nerve. He knew you were right—lately, Will and Jack had begun to suspect him, their eyes narrowing in on the smallest inconsistencies. There was no need to get sloppy and provide them with the evidence they so desperately sought.
"Alan Wright wasn’t just unfavorable." he began, his tone measured and calm. "He was a vile creature, filled with envy and spite. He demeaned you, reduced you to nothing more than a trophy, a shallow figure climbing the social ladder." His words were sharp, each one cutting deeper as he continued. "He dared to belittle what we share, to trivialize it. How could I stand idly by while he poisoned others with his malicious lies?"
"Lies." you interjected, your voice firm but calm. "You said it yourself—baseless assumptions that hold no power."
Hannibal’s eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tightening again as he processed your words. "Perhaps they were lies." he conceded, though his tone suggested he was far from convinced. "But lies, when spoken by someone with influence, can become a dangerous truth in the minds of others. Alan had a way of manipulating those around him, of planting seeds of doubt and suspicion."
You could see the frustration building in him, the way his control was slipping with each passing moment. "But those seeds would have withered without attention." you pressed, trying to make him see your reasoning.
"They didn’t deserve your time, your energy, or your wrath. It shouldn't matter what others think of us. That would be pedestrian, don't you agree?" You knew it was petty, but Hannibal had to understand the irrationality behind his actions.
"Pedestrian." He echoed, the word seeming to weigh heavily on his tongue. "Perhaps so. But it is not merely about the opinions of others. It’s about the principle of the matter, and the respect I feel you deserve."
Hannibal’s gaze softened, but the intensity in his eyes remained. "You underestimate how far I’m willing to go to protect you, to protect us." he murmured, his voice low and almost tender, though a dangerous edge lingered beneath. "Alan Wright wasn’t just a man spreading lies—he was a threat, one that I could not allow to fester."
You sighed, your frustration growing as you saw no change in Hannibal's mind. "But at what cost? You can’t kill every person who sees us differently, who doesn’t understand what we have. It’s not sustainable, and it’s not worth the risk."
Hannibal’s expression hardened, the control he’d been holding onto slipping further. "I won’t let anyone take you from me." he said, his voice rising, the calm facade beginning to crumble. "Not Alan Wright, not anyone. They will not diminish what we share, what we could become. I will protect you from all threats, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem to you."
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his conviction. You could feel the storm building inside him, the way his emotions were beginning to spiral out of control. But even as he unraveled, you couldn’t help but feel a deep, conflicted pull toward him—a mix of fear, admiration, and something else you couldn’t quite name.
"Hannibal." you said softly, stepping closer to him, trying to bring him back. "I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. But we need to be smart about this. We can’t let emotions drive us to do something we’ll regret."
For a moment, Hannibal didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on some distant point as if lost in his own thoughts. But then, slowly, he seemed to regain control, his breathing steadying, the wildness in his eyes dimming. He looked at you, really looked at you, and the tension in his body eased.
"You’re right." he finally said, though the words seemed to come with difficulty. "We must be careful. But never doubt my commitment to us, to you. I will protect what we have with everything I am."
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nexysworld · 16 days
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Summary: Entertained by your desire for freedom, Doma occasionally lets his pet slip away for short bursts of escape. It's a game between you—cat and mouse. But this time, he's tired of playing.
Pairing: Yandere!Doma x Fem!Reader
Tags: NSFW, Smut, Yandere themes, dubcon, blood play, breath play, choking kink, Stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, mild gore, no use of y/n, dark content
WC: 6.2k
Author's Note: This was an Etsy comm that I received permission to convert to x reader and post, which is why it may read a little different from my regular stuff/the sentence structure may be a little different. My first public writing for Demon Slayer, and I love this silly guy. <3 Also big thank you to @dollfacefantasy for beta reading for me.
Read on AO3 || More of my Work
─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───
Your pulse pounded in your ears, the forest whirring by in a blur as your bare feet beat against the ground with each frantic step. You ignored the cramp in your calves and the fire in your lungs, forcing yourself to keep going. This wasn't your first attempt at an escape. Each time, you managed to make it a little farther before being inevitably captured and returned to your prison — the temple.
Every time, you would kick, scream, and pound your fists against his back, desperate to break free. But what good were your useless human limbs against a god? There was even a time when you had resorted to begging and pleading. Your cries fell on deaf ears as that monster had no heart strings to pluck at, to persuade.
It was a cruel game he played, letting you taste a sliver of freedom. He’d plant that tiny seed of hope, watch it grow, and then mercilessly rip it out, leaving you empty and compliant—at least for a while.
This time, something was different.
You had never made it this far in all your attempts. He had never allowed you to reach civilization before. Yet there it was, the hazy orange lights of the village calling to you like a beacon of safety. The stone fence draped in wisteria was a reprieve to the anxiety that bubbled like acid under your skin. You weren't sure if the flower would be enough to keep something like him out, but you didn't have the capacity to dwell on it nor could you afford to psych yourself out.
The moment both feet were planted inside the barrier, you dropped to your knees, rewarding yourself with slow and deep breaths. You half expected the white haired demon to jump out at you, to hear that condescendingly sweet voice tickle your ears. Yet all you could hear was the sound of the early morning birds warbling and the whooshing noise of the trees as they swayed.
When was the last time you watched the sun break over the horizon or the blue sky overhead? It had been so long you very nearly couldn't remember, but you relished it as you watched the sky shift colors from your small spot on the ground.
The village was starting to bustle to life. It was your cue to stand and brush yourself off before you got too many strange looks. Hysteria wouldn't benefit you, you needed to stay calm, find help. Maybe there would be a slayer in the village, or at least a way to contact one.
"Excuse me," you said, trying to get the attention of a passerby. The man shot you a nasty glance, grumbling something as he walked off. Not deterred by the first snub, you wandered about through the streets, looking around to see if you could find anyone of importance who might be able to offer assistance.
The more you walked around the seemingly innocuous place, the more the unease began to creep its way back up your spine, settling as a lump in your throat. ' The sun is up. You're safe, you're just being paranoid ,' you assured yourself inwardly. Despite that, you still couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong — the hair on your arms was sticking up, and you were antsy��.
Every person you passed treated you like you were invisible. Not a single person so much as acknowledged you, much less responded when you tried to make contact yourself. It was as if you were a ghost. Even the shopkeepers and artisans setting up paid no mind to you.
Briefly you toyed with the idea of abandoning the place altogether, moving on to the next village. ' But who knows how far that is. I'm tired, and definitely wouldn't last another night in the woods. ' You leaned against the fence that surrounded the center square that made up the crude marketplace while you contemplated what to do. 'Maybe they think I'm from a low station? ' You looked down at your yukata. It had definitely taken a beating during your trek through the woods, but the design and fabric alone indicated its value. Your primary function was to be that monster's plaything, his little dress up doll. You didn't dare to think where the fancy silks and kimonos came from, you just let him adorn you as he pleased. It was easier that way. Regardless, there was no way anyone would just assume you were a common beggar.
Whatever the case may be, it was clear this village was going to be of no help to you. At best, you could hope they would allow you to sleep in one of the common areas until the next day. A beleaguered sigh escaped you, as you stared at the ground.
"Miss, are you alright?" A young man was poking his head out the door of a home, catching your attention.
You pointed to yourself, not believing that he could actually be talking to you given your luck thus far.
"Yeah you," he chuckled. "You're not from around here, and no offense, but you look a little rough."
Any offense you may have taken rolled off you like water on rubber, you were just glad someone's words were directed at you. Someone not a part of that freakish cult. "Yeah, well...it's been a long night. Say, can I ask if there's anyone from the demo—"
"You should come inside," he chirped, taking you by the arm and ushering you into the home.
"Thank you, but —" Again you were cut off as he ignored your words to call upstairs. Two young girls ran down the rickety steps, all giggles.
He patted the taller girl on the head. "Yui, can you please grab the spare yukata and lay it out for her? Ami, will you grab her something to eat? She’s very tired from her travels."
You were about to thank them for their kindness, but that sense of impending doom was signaling off from the back of your mind again. "Thank you, but really I just need to know there's a way to get into contact with the demon sl—"
"Oh, don't worry about it Miss. We've been waiting for you. Master Doma told us to make sure you were taken care of as soon as you arrived."
There it was.
Your instincts had been screaming at you the entire time you were in the village. You had ignored them clinging to false hope, unable to overcome your exhaustion. Now here you were, back where you started.
Like every time before.
"No," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You took a step back from the trio fight or flight mode taking over.
"Miss, hey calm down now," the man said, putting his hands up defensively. "Master Doma just wants us to take care of you, there's nothing to be afraid of. He takes care of all of us, and he wants you to come home."
The pure sincerity in his voice nearly made your gag, had you not been so frightened you would have been empathetic to them. Doma was nothing if not charming, and you understood the ease that came with believing his words, surrendering to them.
You took another step back. The door wasn't far behind you, and that's all you needed. 'Just make it to the door and run. Just run.'
Another step. Then another. The back of your heel hit the threshold, nearly in the clear. Then pain shot through your head, scrambling your brains and short-circuiting your senses. You had never passed out before, and it wasn't pleasant. Your mouth tasted like metal, spots of black decorated the view as you crumpled.
─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───
"Sweetheart, it's time to wake up now." The voice was sugary syrup dripping into your ears, tugging your from tendrils of unconsciousness. You groaned, head still throbbing from where you'd been struck. Bleary eyes met amber as they blinked open. "Look at you my darling pet, your face is all bruised," he tutted as he inspected you.
It took a moment for you to gather your surroundings, brain still fuzzy from being knocked out. You were back at the temple, the familiar colors morphing into the structure that had become your prison. Doma had taken his seat, crossing one leg over the other. "You," he pointed to the person standing next to you. "Come here."
You recognized the young man from the village. The same one who helped lure your back to this place. He stepped forward, bowing respectfully before the blonde demon.
An uncharacteristic pout was plastered to Doma's face as he eyed the man head to toe. "I thought I told you to take good care of her?"
"You did sir."
"Then explain to me why my dear pet's face has been marred? It's so unsightly ." His angelic features twisted into disgust, his voice tinged with bitterness. You weren't sure you'd ever seen such emotion from him before, didn't think he was capable of anything except that eerie smile and sing-song tone. It was unsettling, no it was more than unsettling, it was terrifying.
The man didn't get the chance to answer, the moment his mouth opened there was blood. It happened so quickly, you couldn't even make out what happened. One moment he was there, the next moment viscera all over the marbled flooring and painted wood.
"You were not worth eating," Doma mused, resting his head in his hand. He looked bored with the mess he made.
You knew what Doma was. You had seen the much cleaner aftermath of his meals before. This unbridled gore was new to you though. Your stomach twisted, face scrunching as the tears spilled over. A whimper escaped your mouth, you clamped your hands over it to silence yourself from wailing.
His attention returned to you. "Now doll, what are you crying for? Humans can be so silly. He disobeyed me by marking what didn't belong to him, nor was he worth the meager nutrients attached to his bones. There's no use in weeping for him, my sweet. Wait , perhaps those are tears of disappointment? Don't tell me you were actually expecting a different outcome when you ran off this time." He laughed, hand over his stomach as if he'd just said the world's most amusing thing.
It took him a few moments for the laughing fit to die down so he could speak again. "Or maybe you're scared because you think I might kill you too, hmm?" He tilted his head when he spoke, sitting upright in his seat now. "Have I ever harmed you before?"
Harmed. Had he ever harmed you? Perhaps not overtly or in the traditional sense. You shook your head, hand still pressed to your mouth.
He motioned for you to come to him, patting his lap.
You didn't want to, but the same fear that always guided your bouts of complacency forced your feet forward. You were careful to step around the puddle of blood and up the steps that led to his throne. You slid into his lap, as you always did, like a well-trained puppy.
"Good girl," he praised, ruffling the locks at the top of your head. In spite of yourself, the praise made your chest feel warm, though it did little to ease your anxiety. You hated it. The weird and complex feelings that came with being held captive. He smelled like dragon's blood and citrus, like the red fabric was doused in the stuff. At least it helped to mask the metallic scent from the massacre behind your.
Doma tilted your chin to meet his gaze. "Tell me, why are you so afraid this time? Be honest with me."
"It's different this time." "How so?" "You didn't come get me yourself."
"I did not, why do you think that is?" 
"You're mad at me."
"Not quite," he cooed comfortingly as he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm not mad, I am simply disappointed . I've grown bored with this cat and mouse game that you like to play. I also fear that my dearest pet lacks the proper appreciation for all I've given her." His smile didn't waver despite his words, at least that was something you were used to. "You're a terrible little liar too. You've been telling yourself lies since you ran away. That everything would be okay. That you could actually survive out there without someone looking after you."
His hand moved from your cheek to your throat, holding you in place. It wasn't enough to cut off the air, but it did have your head floating from the lack of blood. His voice lowered to a threatening timber. "The truth is, my dear, you need me. You need me to feed you, clothe you, shelter you, keep you safe and happy. In return, I need you to behave. It's very simple, even someone as woefully pathetic as you can understand, yes?"
He let go, you sucked in a deep breath of air. The world spun around you as the blood rushed back to your brain.
"I asked you a question, do you understand?" 
You nodded. "Yes. Yes I understand."
"Good." Any hint of that venomous undertone gone. He hauled you over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes before making his way deeper into the temple. "I take responsibility for this too. An undisciplined pet is not a bad pet, just untempered . I've indulged your foolish attempts at independence far too long. It's what I get for being so kind." He kicked the door to your living quarters open, dropping you onto the plush futon at the center of the room.
You back hit the mattress with a dulled thud. He towered over you, eyes running down your form as if they were drinking your in, undressing your. You were familiar with the gaze from plenty of human men, even some of the servants that worked in the temple. Never had you seen a look of pure carnal desire from Doma. You didn't even know if demons desired such a thing.
This, like everything that happened in the past day, was entirely uncharted territory for you. You were scared, in a way you didn't know you could be. You regretted running this time, regretted not just cow tailing and letting things be. The devil you did know would've been a comfort compared to this.
─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───
Doma's eyes lingered on you, taking in every detail. The way you trembled against the padded mattress, your hair splayed out over the bedding, soft skin peaking through the now damaged silk fabric. It was perfection. You were perfection. He couldn't remember the last time a human had caught his interest — there was that one girl...what was her name? He ignored the thought, it didn't matter anymore. She wasn't interesting enough to keep around once she panicked, more trouble than she was worth. You though? A different entity entirely.
Unlike the others, you hadn't begged for mercy or screamed in terror, despite how clearly fearful you were. There was something different about you, something that piqued his curiosity beyond the usual fleeting fascination. It made something stir in his chest, an uncomfortable sensation he was entirely unfamiliar with. Something that kept drawing him to you. It was a mild annoyance at first, until your image began prickling the back of his mind at every waking moment. He presumed this was what affection was, in human terms anyway. He couldn't be sure though, he never felt much of anything at all. If he could feel, then he was sure he would be fond of you.
Kneeling, he traced his finger from your collar down to the belt that held your yukata together. "This was fine silk, very rare. Such a shame it's destroyed now, it suited you so well. Can't be helped I guess," he shrugged. "Take it off."
"Take it off?" You repeated the question back to him as if you didn't comprehend the meaning of the words. He'd had servants tend to your whenever he felt like playing dress up, but never had he disrobed you himself before.
"Oh dear, perhaps that head injury has rendered you dumb? No doll of mine should dress in tattered rags. It's unbecoming, now take it off."
You trembled at his words, not wanting to comply. You weren't ashamed of yourself, nor necessarily prudish in nature. However, the mere thought of stripping away your clothing—of exposing yourself in such a vulnerable state—felt like an unbearable invasion of your last shreds of dignity. You hugged your arms around your body, as if trying to shield yourself from the weight of his gaze, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. "N-No." The word felt weird on your tongue. You were never defiant, not directly so. Besides your escape attempts, you had always been obedient.
"How odd," he commented, kneeling down to close some distance between them. "When has my little pet ever refused me?" He didn't expect that response. "Uh uh, this simply won't do," he tutted. "Did I not just explain to you that I cannot allow for your disobedience any longer? And yet here you are, denying me directly to my face. Bad girl. Very bad girl." Doma cupped your face as he always did, a perfect facade of concern.
Your denial made that uncomfortable sensation itch inside his chest again. This was different from before... annoyance ? That wasn't quite right. The fact that even in this moment you were making him feel anything was bothersome. "I don't like repeating myself. Take it off, or I'll remove it for you." He dug his pointed thumbnail into your cheek, dragging it along the flesh, a trail of red in its wake.
The blood looked so pretty juxtaposed against your skin. His cock kicked in his bottoms at the sight. He hadn't much of a libido even when he was human — over the years he assumed any carnal desire had disappeared along with the last shred of his humanity, if any even existed within him. Now he could see that wasn't the case, the appearance of you clearly enough to rouse that desire from deep within him.
Your eyes went wide, your cheek stinging. The warmth dripping down your face was enough for you to realize you were bleeding. You were in shock, unable to move your facial muscles, your vocal cords too tight to scream. Your hands moved on autopilot, slinking up to tug at the belt, undoing the knot. You hooked a finger where the fabric folded over itself, hesitating for a second. His thumb pressed into your cheek again, a warning. You winced, pulling the silken robe open, letting it slide down your shoulders as it went, leaving only your undergarments in view.
Doma marveled at you, the same hand that had assaulted your cheek dragged itself down your jaw and neck, smearing the hot liquid with it. "Such a beautiful thing you are. A canvas just begging to be painted." His pants were uncomfortably tight now, a reminder of the appendage between his legs. A primal hunger twisted in his stomach. This was more than just teaching his pet obedience now. He wanted to mark you, take you in every conceivable way he could. Truly make you his. It was a tantalizing thought.
He tugged at the cloth wrapped around your chest, not giving you the chance to deny him now. It fell off of you with ease, exposing your breasts to the cool night air. Experimentally he circled his thumb around the bud of your nipple, red liquid drying quickly against it. The noise you made was a mix between a whimper and a strangled whine — it sent white-hot need directly to his groin. Doma watched as your skin became taut, pebbling under the touch. He licked his lips, craving more, his mind running through all the different things he wanted to do to you.
You fought the urge to squirm, his touch sending electricity skipping through your veins. Your brain was lagging as it processed the mix of fear and arousal. He looked feral, the salacious smile splitting his face open, his eyes glowing a mix of colors. If there was ever a time he truly looked inhuman, it was now. The monster shook his head as if he were snapping himself out of a haze. "Off with the rest of it. I want to see you, all of you."
You weren't bold enough to deny him twice, you took his blood covered hand and allowed him to help you stand. Their difference in size was far more apparent standing before him. You realized now that most of your time spent with the demon was with him in his temple seat. You were small before him, in more ways than one.
You turned from him, it didn't make a difference. He'd already seen most of your nude form, nor would it prevent him from doing as he pleased in the long run. In the interim though, it gave you some imagined semblance of power over the situation you were in. One last bid at retaining your pride.
"Harlow...you're beginning to bore me now."
It was a warning, you were taking too long. You didn't dare push to find out what would happen if he had to repeat the command this time. You dropped the remains of the yukata, letting it slip down your arms and crumple to the bedding along with the fabric that had covered your chest. All that was left were your underwear. You made quick work of them too, shimmying out of them and kicking them to the side.
You resisted the urge to shield yourself with your hands, his hand was on your shoulder, spinning you around as if inspecting a piece of merchandise.
Doma stopped you when you faced him again. "Sweet little pet," he cooed. His index nail slicing from your breasts to your navel. He knelt enough to run his tongue along the wound, marveling as your abdominal muscles twitched under it. Your blood pure sugar on his tongue. He pressed a kiss just above your pelvic bone, leaving bloody lips imprinted to the skin. His own flesh burned with the need to feel you, be closer to you. "I don't kneel for many, doll," he said, squeezing your hip bone lightly. "You should be honored for the sight. Are you?"
"Yes."
His thumbs dug into you, the feeling making you cry out in pain. If not for his grip on you, and your instinct to grab his shoulder for support, you would have fallen over.
"You can do better than that. Show your master how much you're honored for this gift. How much you appreciate all I've given you, all I plan to give you." His voice softened almost playfully so, "Come on now, show me how good of a girl you can be." Doma pressed a kiss to your thigh, licking up some more of the metallic blood that dripped.
You were more than a little confused, the feeling of his tongue against your flesh made your mind go static. You had assumed that once you were naked and at his mercy, he would simply take what he wanted. It took you a few seconds to muster the brainpower to try and figure out exactly what he was wanting from you. Hesitantly you brought your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks.
It was strange. For all the monster that he was, his skin felt so very human against your touch. His own eyes lust-hazed and locked to yours. There was a sick thrill that came with being desired by someone so dangerous. Even the blood drying against your skin, now cold and sticky was a sensation that only heightened how you were feeling — your arousal pulsed with need.
When he didn’t move to stop you or draw more blood, you took it as a sign that you were doing something right. He was a god—or at least he presented himself as one—so you would offer him a performance of devotion in return. You would tend to him the way temple maidens polished statues and decorated altars.
You pressed your lips against his, your eyes fluttering shut. Doma's lips were soft and warm; if not for the sharp metallic taste of your own blood mingling with the kiss, you could almost forget who it was. It felt good. It shouldn't have felt good, but it did . The kind of good that was strangely comforting, the kind you knew you would yearn for again in your isolation.
He was intrigued by your response, having intended to coax a vocal proclamation from you, instead you'd kissed him. You tasted like mint and honey, flavors that only lingered in his long-since-past human memory. It was delicious, addicting . This was a far better outcome than he initially anticipated.
When you trailed little kisses down his jaw and neck, he had to focus his breathing to remain as stoic as possible. Every touch was the lick of raw flame searing his skin, making his cock kick in excitement. Your hands moved lower, hooking themselves beneath the hem of his red top before pausing.
"May I?" You asked, not moving to further disrobe him without permission.
Doma's eyes blazed with hunger, his lips curling into a feral grin. "Yes, my pet. You may."
You pulled up on the shirt, carefully sliding it over his head and arms before discarding it to the side of them. You smoothed your hands down his pectoral muscles and the hardened abs feeling every bump and divet as you moved. He was carved from marble, body as perfect as one would expect of a god. The sight alone made you want to taste him, not out of fear or obligation but from sheer lust on your end — a scary thought.
He watched you through lidded eyes as your mouth set to work again, lips not lingering in any one place as you blessed each plane of muscle with a kiss. You stopped only when you reached the belt that held his gray pants to his form.
Again you looked at him, silently asking this time.
He patted your head, "Good girl. Go ahead," he encouraged. You looked the prettiest like that, when your eyes were wide, soft, anxious . It made his chest bubble with that weird fuzziness again. The more that feeling manifested, the more he wanted to devour you.
It took a moment for Harlow to fumble with the buckle, but once it was conquered there was nothing but the striped fabric separating you and what was outlined under it. You folded down the waistband, slowly revealing his erection. It was intimidating up close, far larger than you had seen before. The length was pale like the rest of him, the tip an angry shade of pink decorated by pearls of precum that glistened.
You could have attempted to take him in your mouth, but such a simple and baser sexual act wasn't right for this. You couldn't take right now, only give.
Your hands came forward, wrapping around the base for support. You could feel his pulse under your palm through the vein that coiled around the underside. It pulsed in your grasp, and you could hear his breath hitch in the silence of the room. As you had done to the rest of his body, you pressed a kiss to the tip, smearing the white beads against your rosy lips. "Thank you, lord Doma. For allowing me to have the honor of witnessing all of you." You weren't entirely sure you didn't mean the words that tumbled out — not with his scent in your nose, and the primal part of your brain activated.
"Sweetheart," he breathed out, becoming impatient with need, another urge he was only newly acquainted with. Apathy had brewed near immeasurable patience within him in his long life. Perhaps just another thing that made you so special — your ability to draw out all he had to offer. "Look at me."
You obeyed, pausing your actions to meet his gaze.
Doma caressed your uninjured cheek and swatted your hands away from his groin. He took hold of himself, smearing the mushroomy head of his cock over your lips and to the side. The way you winced when it pressed to the cut on your cheek made his balls tighten. Blood and fluid mixing to smear pink along your soft skin like rouge. "So pathetically fragile and pretty, a little mouse doomed to forever be under the cat's paw. I have to confess — I consider you my most prized possession."
It sounded real, his voice neutral not deep with lust nor that flamboyant false tone he used to lure most in. The way he was looking at you coupled with his words wrapped you in a blanket of contentment. Being told you were wanted tugged at the abandoned part of you more than expected. "Thank you," you whispered, your own words equal in their sincerity.
Doma was pleased with this. "Of course, so much easier when you just appreciate what you have, no?" He moved to press your back to the mattress again, using a knee to spread your legs for him. Finally, he received the view that made his mouth water, his ears ring. Your folds pink and glistening with need, thighs sticky with blood and arousal. A sight worthy of a painting.
He pressed two fingers to your swiping upwards to gather the slick. You tensed, toes curling, heartbeat picking up. He missed none of it. He allowed his tongue to swirl around his digits, taking in your flavor. He'd consumed so many humans, but this was the first time he truly relished the taste, savory, decadent, and all you .
"Have your eyes ever wandered while under my care? Were you burdened with lust unable to be quenched? Be honest, I'll be mad if you're not," he warned, leaving one hand on your hip.
"Yes," there was no hesitation in your answer, only a tepid honesty.
"Was I ever the object of that desire?" "No," you whispered it so quietly that he almost missed it even with his inhuman senses.
Sourness encompassed him, a deep cold bitterness mixed with envy. He wasn't surprised by the answer, but it dug into him like claws regardless. His hand tightened, nails digging into you and squeezing so hard he nearly felt your bone give way to his strength. The sound of your agony, the wail of your pain, and the smell of fresh salty tears brought Doma out of his daze. He let go, surprised by his own shift in mood. 
With a sigh, he leaned over encompassing you with his form. "Shhh, shhh," he tried to soothe. He mimicked your earlier actions, pressing kisses along your skin before capturing your lips with his. "I'm not mad." He assured, despite the harshness of his treatment. It wasn't an apology, he wasn't much capable of that — it was as close as you'd get from him though, an admittance that he may have gone too far.
You whimpered softly, your heart still racing from his unexpected display of anger. You pressed your body against his, welcoming and desperate for comfort. You let yourself give in to his touch, anything to dull the searing throb in your leg. Anything to not have him upset, to not see that angry look in his eyes again.
His movements were gentle now, he returned his hand between your legs. Rhythmically he circled his fingers over your clit, keeping the movements going as he spoke. "After tonight, there will be no one else that exists to you, but me. Understand?"
Your only reply was the string of pleasurable whimpers that spilled from you, eyes squeezing shut. You poured your focus into the pleasure until the pain was a dull background sensation.
"That's it, that's it," he cooed.
Your fingers squeezed into the bedding knuckles turning white from the grip. That crescendo of pressure was unforgiving as his fingers never lost their pace, building you up to a peak. Fireworks twinkled behind your closed eyes, white-hot pleasure erupting from your cunt.
He didn't allow you to recover, the blood soaked hand pressed to your throat, cinching the blood that was rushing to your head. Dark spots danced in the corners of your vision, panic made your grab at his arm. Like stone, he was unmovable.
"Uh uh, I thought we'd moved past that now. Submit, pet, you'll only be rewarded for your obedience." He kept you on the precipice of consciousness, never letting your sink underneath the waves, but not allowing you to grab a lifeline either. There was a sense of deprivation, leaving only the ability to feel what you were given — no other thoughts, no way to cry out. Just Doma.
Eager to finally satisfy himself, he slotted his length against your slit and rocked his hips. The head of him bumped into your now overly sensitive bud as he gathered your juices over himself. The contact wasn't the tightness he would soon have, but it satisfied some of the tension that he needed released.
You needed to tell him it was too much, you were overstimulated and felt like you were going to fall off a cliff. Your whole body twitched and writhed beneath his grip. Too much, all of it too much. He released your neck as he slid into your — the air expanding your lungs and the delightful burning stretch as he filled your in one even thrust sent your brain into reset.
A fresh wave of tears stuck to your cheeks, washing away some of the blood and fluid. You looked a complete mess, worn and wrecked. "S'too much," you finally said.
He groaned, the feeling of your velvety walls massaging the whole of him, the vice-like squeeze of you was tantalizing. It was a pleasure that matched nothing he remembered. "No, no, it's far from too much, pet. I would never give you more than you can take," he responded, voice breathy. He leaned over your and nosed at your neck. He adjusted your hips upwards, an easier angle for him to rock himself into you.
"You can handle it. You were made for this... made for me ," he cooed, he gripped your lithe hand in his own.
You squeezed the supportive hand offered to you, legs kicking out as your body bounced with each rut of himself into you. You let yourself trust his assurance, having no other choice and no other way to settle the spiraling world around you.
His thickness rubbed against the most sensitive inner parts, tip knocking against your womb. You felt so full and warm. He leaned back just enough that he could press the palm of his free hand to your belly, feeling himself inside of you. "Feel that? How deep I am, like we're becoming one." He licked his lip, rutting faster.
The feeling of fullness was contenting, allowing the second wave of your orgasm to wash over with less eruption this time. Your back arched and the hand on your belly returned to your hip to hold your steady. The rhythmic pistoning lost its even pace the moment you clenched around him. Doma closed his own eyes, feeling his balls tighten as they bounced off of you with his movements. His cock twitched, and he held you still, burying himself as deep as he could go while he came. Ropes of warm seed painted your insides, as he rolled himself against your in shallow movements — just enough to ride out the ensuing pleasure and aftershocks that accompanied.
Your limbs felt weightless, your mind floating. It was a sense of zen, like the world around you had dissipated leaving nothing but pure blissful sleepiness. You registered his voice knocking at the back of your consciousness, but it was muffled.
"So exhausted, and we only played together once," he patronized as he ran his hand over your head, petting you like a puppy.
When had he pulled out of you, or readjusted them so he was laying at your side? You didn't know. The thought of displeasing him suddenly tugged at you, and you whined in your leery state, not able to formulate much. "Sorry..."
He smiled at that immediate submission, "It's ok, we'll just have to work on it. I know you can do better next time, right?"
"Mhmmm," you mumbled instinctively curled into him. When you were of a more sober mindset, you hoped your carefully calculated revulsion would reappear. For now, you just wanted to fall back into your typical pattern of compliance.
"Sweetheart?"
You didn't want to reply, too tired. His hand tilted your chin to him one more time. "Mmm?"
"Who do you belong to?"
You knew saying the words would manifest them somewhere inside you, but again you found no protest within yourself, the call of unconsciousness too much. "You."
"Who do you need to take care of you?" "You." "Who else exists to you?" "No one."
"Good girl."
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redtsundere-writes · 21 days
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Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen
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Part 15: The Failed Plan
King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader
Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.
Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta-read.
Word Count: 8415 words.
A/N: Sorry for posting late. This was a long boi to edit plus it was my b-day lol
Also, thanks to Luna, my new beta reader, for the help!
Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →
“Yorozu, wake up.” Without having opened her eyes, she recognized her mother's soft voice in the morning. “Come with me to the market, Yorozu.” She shook her foot to wake only her up, who slept peacefully on the edge of the bed next to her twin sisters.
The golden light of the sun blended with the green plush grass and the white wild flowers of the large open field. The few trees around created abstract works with their delicate shadows. The little birds, hungry and romantic, sang in the distance, announcing the arrival of a new day. Yorozu rubbed her eyes to get used to the little light that entered through the windows, decorated with soft cobwebs that she had forgotten to remove the day before. She saw her mother confused at the foot of the bed, ready with her broken basket to go to the market.
“Nice try, mom.” Yorozu crawled back into the blankets her grandmother had embroidered for them years before she died. “The market isn’t open yet at this time. Goodnight.”
“Yorozu!” Her mother scolded her, losing her patience, waking Mimiko and Nanako up in the process. “We have to go,” her mother insisted before giving Yorozu a smack.
“What’s going on?” Nanako asked in a sleepy mumble to her, as her twin sat on the edge of the bed. 
“She said we’re going to the market,” Mimiko replied, confused as to why they were leaving so early.
“No, you girls don’t have to go. I just need Yorozu,” her mother replied, trying to pull Yorozu away from her sisters.
Yorozu looked at the small calendar her sisters had drawn on the wall and quickly realized what day it was. The day she had patiently waited for had finally arrived. Today was harvest day. She sat on the bed to decide her next move if she didn't want to be taken to Sukuna's castle. 
Unlike you, who always tries to see the good side of people, Yorozu has always seen the bad side of people. You can't trust anyone when they live under the tyranny of an evil being who lets curses run free, eating humans without rhyme or reason. You can't trust anyone when other humans are always going to prioritize their own lives over others. Humans can become horrible creatures under the influence of panic once resources run out, like her own mother.
"Are you going to sell me to the king…?" Yorozu asked her mother directly, who was stunned that she realized so quickly. "… like Y/n?" Yorozu inquired.
"I've already told you thousands of times that Y/n left on her own. She left a farewell letter and everything." Her mother pretended to cry as if she missed her daughter.
Yorozu knew she was evil inside. She never faked it or denied it. That was why she always found it so easy to tell her own kind apart. At the end of the day, she was her mother's daughter. No one was surprised that a narcissistic and selfish woman would end up raising her lookalike. Yorozu envied her older sister because she had dad's personality, a strong, protective, and kind man above all things. Secretly, you were always his favorite, the only one who put her big girl pants on at the time of his passing, someone who always cared about others before herself unlike every other human she knew. You were like the ones who would die to protect her family.
“Put the crocodile tears aside and accept what you did.” Yorozu faced her, standing in front of her with her arms crossed over her chest.
Her mother smiled at the great offense. She couldn't believe that her own daughter blamed her for something so horrible that she had done, but she didn't have to know that. Nanako pulled Mimiko by the nightgown to leave the room to get away from the argument, but the brunette twin still wanted to see how the fight developed. Despite being the same age, the blonde was the one who made the decisions for both of them.
“Yorozu, I would never do...!” Her mother tried, but a blow to the face interrupted her sentence. Yorozu shook off the punch as if it was nothing. Her mother looked at her in shock as her nose bled.
“Fine, don't accept it, but I'm not going to let you take me to that prison for your stupid desires. I'm not as stupid as Y/n,” Yorozu said, getting on guard, ready to give her mother the beating she so deserved. “Is this really happening?” Nanako and Mimiko thought in unison as if they shared the same brain.
“I didn’t want it to be like this, but it will have to be.” Her mother put her hair up with a rag, making sure her hair didn’t get in the way of her vision. “Since you were of no use to me to move forward, I shall take you out so you don’t get in my way. This wouldn’t be happening if you had accepted King Gojo’s hand.”  
Yorozu let out a war cry before launching herself at her mother. It was supposed to be a fistfight, but like any fight between women, they ended up grabbing each other’s hair. Yorozu was at a disadvantage because of her long hair. Even though she threw hollow punches, her mother controlled her like a puppet. Nanako and Mimiko watched from the doorway as they cried at the sight of the two members that were left in their family fighting so wildly. The only adults in their lives, the ones who were supposed to protect them, were fighting to the death. They wanted to intervene to stop them, but they knew they could never do anything about it.
Yorozu pushed her mother to the ground, in an attempt to get her hands off of her. She positioned herself over her and continued hitting her anywhere visible. They were clumsy and desperate blows to free herself from her and her uncertain fate. Her mother ended up receiving them as she did not have the speed or strength to resist. The cries of her twin sisters only infuriated her more. “This wouldn't be happening if Y/n was here” Yorozu thought furiously before continuing to hit her mother.
“No matter how many times you hit me, I'm going to sell you. Whether you like it or not!” Her mother threatened her while her mother cried from the pain of being beaten. This brought back terrible memories of her childhood.
The woman didn't know her family. She was banished from her homeland when she turned 6 for not having “what it took” to be part of the family, so she always had to survive. Find somewhere to eat, where to sleep, and repeat. Get on her feet by her own means to show that she had what it takes and much more to offer. She didn't have a cursed technique, but she had courage. Her nose could lose blood in a waterfall, her dress could lose its cleanliness by rolling in the dust and her dignity could be questioned with each blow, but she would never lose hope on herself. She had to do it, she couldn't die without first proving to the family that abandoned her that she could become someone without their help. She was going to get to be part of a family bigger than them, no matter what.
“So you accept it, you stupid old woman?!” Yorozu yelled full of fury.
“I sold Y/n to give you a chance, and you blew it! Damn brat!” Your mother screamed with blood stained teeth.
Yorozu continued to beat her out of anger, while her mother barely defended herself. All of her daughters knew that she had sacrificed her eldest daughter to try to take care of her family before worrying about herself and her future. Yorozu was sick of seeing you reject marriage offers from neighbors for fear of leaving your family after her father's death. She was fed up that she gave away her daughter, who had done nothing wrong, to the devil. The tears of helplessness at being in that situation were too much for her. Being her mother's favorite, she thought that it would at least give her a little more time to get a husband.
The brunette was starting to get tired, but she had to finish the job one way or another. She didn't have many options. She didn't want to run away from her own home so that her mother could then take advantage of the minors in the house. Her mind was pure chaos, and it was going to very dangerous places out of desperation to escape the situation. She wasn't going to give her life so that her mother could get away with it. The only one who could ruin her life was herself.
The situation took a 180-degree turn when her mother pulled her by the hair and pushed her to the ground, taking advantage of her daughter's exhaustion. Yorozu pushed her by the bloody face to get her away from her, staining her nightgown with the blood dripping from her nose, but her mother sought to knock her out with her bony fists. She would take any path to take Yorozu to the castle of the tyrant who was going to give her 100 gold coins for her daughter, with that money they could eat and everything would go smoothly from there.
"Let me go now!" Yorozu said between heavy breaths.
"Make me, girl!" Her mother told her with a sinister smile.
Her bony hands took hold of her neck tightly. A drastic but necessary measure. Yorozu tried to do the same, but her mother did not allow it. She felt like her head was emptying with each useless breath in search of oxygen. She only heard the desperate cries of her younger sisters for their mother to let her go. Her hands searched for a way to get her to let go, but all they could do was claw at her arms.
Her neck was turning purple from the lack of blood circulation, her head was spinning, and she could feel her soul leaving her body. She internally begged her sisters to do something more productive than just cry inconsolably. “I wish I had a knife to kill this old woman” she thought as she looked at her mother's face, blurred by the tears that clouded her vision. 
As if by magic, a kitchen knife appeared in her hand. She clenched it in confusion when she realized what it was, but she wasn't going to waste it. Her mother saw the object her own daughter had created to hurt her in shock. “Yorozu has a technique?!” She thought furiously before her own daughter stabbed her in the neck several times.
Blood began to gush out of her mother's airway, drenching Yorozu in the crimson liquid as she caught her breath. The limp body of the woman who gave her life collapsed on top of her. Her daughter kicked her off of her, without any remorse for what she had just done. Nanako and Mimiko hugged each other as they watched their dead mother's body collapse to the ground. Yorozu rested against the floor as she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand.
Seeing her lifeless mother beside her felt unreal. She looked as if she was just asleep. She had ended her life like a magic trick gone wrong. The young woman felt no remorse or worry, just felt an indescribable peace at no longer having to deal with that woman who used them as if they were the golden lottery ticket to escape from her shitty life.
"Thank you for nothing," Yorozu scolded her sisters. They came over to help her up.
“Is she really dead?” Mimiko asked between hiccups from crying from seeing her sister kill her mother in cold blood.
“Of course she is. It won't be a problem anymore.” Yorozu checked her dress, she was covered in blood. “I'm not washing that,” she thought, annoyed.
She had to change. She took off her dress without thinking twice. Nanako and Mimiko were already used to seeing her naked around the house. It was an annoying habit that had started when you disappeared from their lives, since you weren't there to scold her to put on more clothes. They really hated it because they felt she only did it to gather attention from the neighbors, but that wasn't their problem anymore. If an insect bit her in an uncomfortable area, they weren't going to scratch it.
“Now what are we going to do?” Mimiko asked worriedly, wiping away her tears as best she could. Now that her mother had died in front of her eyes, the only responsible adult was Yorozu. She didn't know which thing was worse.
"Isn't it obvious?" Nanako asked sarcastically. "We have to bury mom."
"There's no time for that," Yorozu answered before putting on the first dress she pulled from the closet.
"What do you mean there's no time for that?" Nanako asked, confused.
"Didn't you listen to what mom said? Y/n is in Sukuna's castle, we have to rescue her," Yorozu said as she tied the laces of the dress behind her back.
"Rescue her? And how are we going to do that?" Mimiko asked, making sure that her crazy sister was serious.
"I have no idea, but today is the perfect opportunity to do it," Yorozu answered as she put on her shoes.
Everyone who lived under King Sukuna's dictatorship knew about the day of the harvest. The elders lived worried that their children would give them up so they wouldn't have another mouth to feed, while the children were taken to the castle by their own parents, so the king could do the hard part for them. It was a day when everyone was tense, but not for them. This was the only day they could sneak in without anyone suspecting anything.
Mimiko crossed her arms and looked at her sister from head to toe. Besides being the only sister with blonde hair, inherited from her father, she is the smartest sister in the family. She loved her family, but she knew something was up with Yorozu for as long as she can remember. She is very immature for her age, she plays with boy’s hearts and treats everyone badly, but everyone tolerates her because she is "family."
"Aren't you supposed to not want to go there? There are many curses and the king is horrible," Nanako asked worriedly.
Nanako was very different from her twin sister. Even though she knew something was up with Yorozu as well, she still cared for her. With their mother dead in front of them, they were now alone. It's true that she wanted Y/n back, but the chances of her coming back or even being alive were very low. If she could make Yorozu change her mind, she would.
"Don't worry. I have this now." Yorozu created another knife to fall into the palm of her hand. The twins freaked out at the sight of its power. "I'll get Y/n out of there no matter what and everything will go back to the way it was before," she promised them before stomping her feet to make sure her boots were on properly.
They set off on the long journey once they had laid out the plan. They walked through the long grasslands, gravel paths, and stone roads as they watched the creepy black castle grow closer and closer. As the hours passed, they reached the central citadel. The markets were beginning to open, displaying the finest quality human meat and vegetables at their respective stalls, while the curses walked freely through the streets. They watched the humans with pity and envy of how the humans willingly went into the beast's teeth. If it weren't for the dry law that the king had imposed for the day of the harvest, they would have already been eaten.
The trio of sisters marched with their heads down so as not to draw more attention than they already did. Mimiko hugged her sister by the arm as they followed Yorozu towards her certain death. They heard the malicious giggles of the curses, mocking them. Under other circumstances, Yorozu would be terrified, but now that she had a technique, she felt unstoppable. They approached the drawbridge that led into the castle. Due to the occasion, there was a small wooden hut with several curses lined up, ready to receive the harvest. They all wore shiny armor and the flag with the symbol of the king they faithfully served.
“Who are you here to deliver?” The curse asked her as soon as the eldest approached the stand.
“Myself.” The curse was surprised that she wouldn’t deliver one of the girls who accompanied them.
“Wow… How heroic…” It said sarcastically before handing her the contract to sign. “Sign the contract and the money is yours,” it explained.
Yorozu took the contract to read the small paragraph she had to sign. The contract consists of three rules: The first stipulates that once the compensation is received, the crop belongs to the king. The second is that the crop will not receive visitors of any kind, or the visitors will be executed immediately. And the third is that if the crop dies, no one outside the castle will be notified. A cruel contract made to leave someone with the least feeling of guilt possible. Yorozu was about to sign, but Mimiko stopped her by the arm.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked. Yorozu broke free from her weak grip and signed.
The curse threw the sack of 100 gold coins at her feet for her to pick up. Yorozu smiled cynically before picking up the bag from the ground, showing that she didn’t care in the slightest about its opinion of her. She already had permission to enter the castle, all that was left was to find her older sister and escape together. It would be complicated, but she knew she could do it. She walked up to her little sisters’ height to give them the sack of coins.
“I’ll be back soon,” Yorozu whispered to them before two curses forcibly pulled her into the castle.
And that’s how the rest of her Hasaba family completely disintegrated. Nanako squeezed the small sack in frustration as she watched Yorozu abandon them so easily to pursue a small chance. That simple act made them realize that Yorozu didn’t care in the slightest what happened to them. “Y/n wouldn’t have done that,” she thought, annoyed.
“She's not coming back, is she?” Mimiko asked her sister as they watched the curses throw Yorozu into the courtyard.
“The girl who doesn't know how to be kind or clean?” Her twin answered sarcastically. “She’s dead,” she finally said before taking her hand to go back where they came from.
“Now what are we going to do?” Mimiko asked worriedly.
“We'll bury mom and get out of here,” the blonde decided strongly.
“What if Yorozu really comes back?” Her sister inquired without any resistance.
“That's not our problem anymore,” she answered seriously.
The sisters began their journey back to their home to bury their mother and plan their escape from the land of curses. It would be complicated for a pair of 11-year-old girls, but not impossible.
Today was the day. The day you would have to defend yourself from your sister. You couldn't sleep the night before because of the anxiety of having to face a sorceress with a thirst for revenge. You lay there, staring at the ceiling as you thought of strategies to somehow avoid the inevitable. You paced around the room with your heart in your hand from worry. You checked your archery equipment several times to make sure it was ready in the morning, despite wishing you didn't have to use it.
You couldn't do it. It was too much pressure for you. You couldn't kill your sister. What would your father think of you? He would look down on you in disappointment from heaven for turning you against the family he created with so much effort. Small tears of frustration from not finding a solution to the matter ran down your cheeks as you prepared to eat breakfast. You looked at yourself in front of the mirror as you ironed the red dress with your hands, the lightest of them all. Your eyes looked swollen from spending the night crying and the obvious lack of sleep. You put on some makeup to cover the gray patches and pretend everything was okay. “Don’t worry. Whatever happens will happen,” you thought before heading to the dining room with the little desire you had to eat.
“Good morning, my king.” you greeted Sukuna upon arriving at the table, trying to sound as friendly as possible.
“The king told me to let you know, that’s why I came as quickly as possible.” You quoted Mrs. Inoue in your mind when she interrupted your study session to warn you about what your sister was up to the day before. You looked at your friend who was on the other side of the room and gave her a smile to let her know that you were okay so she wouldn’t worry, even if you felt like you were dying inside.
“Today, I feel like it’s going to be an exciting day, don’t you?” Sukuna asked you with a deranged smirk on his face.
You knew what he was doing, you had realized during the endless night. You clenched your fist under the table. He had promised your sister the same thing he promised you to turn her against you. He knew your time was running out, so he had to intervene somehow to speed up the process. You watched as he smiled at you, proud of his own actions. You were afraid to say anything that might anger him, so you stayed quiet. Your sister was quick to arrive, skipping happily to cut the weird tension between you two.
“Good morning everyone!” She greeted with a smile before sitting next to you.
“How are you feeling?” You asked worried about her well-being. You couldn’t abandon your role as older sister even though she had promised the king that she would kill you.
“Good as new! You were right, I needed a good rest,” Yorozu said. You smiled at her, relieved that she was feeling better after the fight. “Hey, I wanted to apologize for yesterday…”
“Really?” You asked surprised.
“Yes, what I did wasn’t right. I got frustrated, actually.” Yorozu pouted as she hugged you in an attempt to get your forgiveness.
You saw how Mrs. Inoue looked at her with displeasure. You could also see through her falseness, but you wanted to enjoy your sister for one more minute. Forget for a minute that you lived in a castle full of curses. Forget for a minute that you had to study and train until you were exhausted. Forget for a minute that she would kill you at any second. Just two sisters living in the countryside, running through the grassland towards the sunset for one last time.
“Let me reward you for being so patient with me,” Yorozu proposed as she rubbed her cheek against yours affectionately. Her touch was warm, unlike her intentions. “Let’s train together. I’ll do anything,” she promised.
“Okay,” you smiled at her.
Uraume and a few cooks made an appearance in the dining room as they held today’s breakfast. The servant placed a plate of red berry oats with several slices of strawberries surrounding the perimeter of the bowl, elaborately decorated with some blueberries and blackberries. In the center, like the star of the show, was a large strawberry lightly dipped in the whitish purée.
“I asked Uraume to add extra strawberries,” the servant commented, a 50-year-old man with unruly gray hair and a friendly smile. You noticed that he was the same one who had served you your birthday cake. He must be new, since you didn’t know his name.
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” you thanked him, reciprocating the smile.
While you were distracted, Yorozu tried to steal the biggest strawberry from the plate with a mischievous smile. To your surprise, your hand caught her wrist before she could take it. You squeezed it tightly to make her pull her hand away in pain.
“Ow, ow, ow!” She squealed as pulling it away from the fire. “It hurts!”
“I’m sorry, but this is mine,” you declared before taking the strawberry to eat it in a big bite. Yorozu looked at you offended, she was so upset that a vein on her forehead was about to pop.
Mrs. Inoue laughed out loud. Her small eyes hid behind her chubby cheeks from happiness. She wiped away the small tears of laughter as she continued to laugh non-stop. You didn't want to take away the little joy she had in hell, so you let them have their fun, even though it was at your sister's expense. You put on your leather glove, making sure it was on properly as the lady held the bow and quiver. They waited patiently in the courtyard for the servants to bring the straw targets to start practicing. Originally, you were going to do it, but the servants offered to do it for you.
"It was so satisfying to see her annoyed face! I'm sure the others are laughing at her too." She laughed before passing you the quiver to put it across your body. You sighed as you adjusted it so it wouldn't obstruct your arms. Mrs. Inoue stopped laughing when she saw your downcast face. "What's wrong?"
"My little sister said she would kill me in front of the king today."
"Ah, that's right, I forgot about that." Mrs. Inoue facepalmed in disappointment. “Sorry, I must be getting old.”
You rubbed her back as you told her everything was fine. The servants left the weapons warehouse as they rolled the straw targets, leaving a thin trail of straw across the grass. The gardeners, who were in charge of trimming the bushes around the perimeter, put aside their work to help load the target bases. Together they placed the target on the wooden bases.
“Thank you!” You exclaimed from your spot, to which the servants only indicated to you from afar that everything was ready.
You were about to start shooting until you felt the king’s presence around you. You looked up at the bridges over the walls that connected to the watchtowers. The king, Uraume, and Kenjaku were all watching you intently, as if they were waiting for you to do something. You were used to having your training supervised, but this time it was different. Sukuna smiled expectantly at what was about to happen. Finally, after two months of waiting and holding back the urge to kill his sister-in-law, he would see your true potential in all its glory. You gulped as you felt their intense eyes on you. They were waiting patiently for you to surprise them, but you doubted you could do it. You felt like a joker in front of an audience that was about to bore him.
“King!” That shrill voice ran out of the castle to go with him. “Sorry for the delay,” she said, stopping in front of him.
“You seem very excited to kill your sister,” Sukuna told her, intrigued by the unexpected good mood.
“It's a great shame, really, but it's her karma for abandoning us,” Yorozu commented as she waved at you from afar, waving her hand from side to side like a flag. Sukuna had no idea what that meant.
“Yorozu!” You exclaimed on harvest day before launching yourself towards her to hug her tightly. Yorozu was so perplexed that it took her a while to reciprocate the hug.
She still remembered that bittersweet hug you gave her that day of their reunion. You were fine, better than fine. Yorozu thought she would find you in an ugly maid outfit, weak and with blood on your knuckles from hard work. Instead, you wore a beautiful dress, had gained a little weight from eating three times a day, smelled exquisite, and wore a delicate diamond tiara. Your sisters were so worried about you and here you were, living the best life in the castle while your sisters were starving in the countryside.
You were living the life your mother always dreamed for you without you having put in the least bit of effort. Yorozu was more than shocked at the reality of the matter. She wanted to live like that. Having a life where she only had to look pretty and quiet to have the world under her feet alongside a powerful king who does whatever he pleases.
“You're alive!” Yorozu exclaimed once, understanding the situation. Your strong morals had been corrupted by greed.
You couldn't hear her conversation with the king, but it couldn't be anything good. Yorozu smiled at you before creating a bow with its respective quiver with her cursed technique. You gripped the bow tightly out of stress. The battle was about to break out, and you only had one mission in mind: Incapacitate your sister. It was the best option so far. You could keep her alive without her being a constant threat against you.
“Hey, sister! Dodge this!” Yorozu exclaimed playfully, still pretending her role as a clumsy sister, as she pointed her bow and arrow at you.
“Is she going to be that direct?” You wondered about her bad plan, but you should have figured it out. You were dealing with Yorozu after all, she never had a plan. That's why she was such a troublemaker among the neighbors, always doing what she wanted without thinking clearly about the consequences. Ending up in a fist fight over her lousy ideas.
You stopped to wait for to shoot so you could get out of the way in time, but you noticed that she turned on her waist to the left. It reminded you of how Sukuna abruptly moved to kill a servant on their first day of practice together. Without a second thought, you pulled an arrow out of your quiver to aim it at Yorozu's arrow. Your eyes followed the target as you simultaneously released the string. The purple-feathered arrow streaked through the skies towards the head of one of the gardeners. Just a few inches from the fateful outcome, her arrow hit yours, completely deflecting it from its unfortunate target.
Your heart beat with joy at the fact that you had saved the poor man's life, but you were also furious that your sister wanted to hurt an innocent person. She was supposed to kill you, she didn't need to have done that. She had surely done it to get Sukuna's attention with her incredible abilities, but this was as far as she was going. It was time to fight back. Quickly, you took out another arrow to load the bow.
“Everyone! Get out of here! That's an order!” You bossed the servants in a commanding voice, just as you had heard Sukuna order his troops when practicing his strategies.
If Yorozu had tried to hurt one of the servants once, she wouldn't hesitate to try twice. Without hesitation, all the servants fled in terror to take shelter inside the weapons warehouse. The gardeners let the maids enter first, the only one missing was Mrs. Inoue, who faithfully stayed beside you. “She took care of the servants first so they wouldn’t get in her way. Good idea.” Sukuna was satisfied with your reaction.
“Good luck, miss,” Mrs. Inoue said before following the group while you loaded the bow.
“Go, now!” You ordered again.
“I must impress the king!” Yorozu proposed desperately before pulling the string again to hit Mrs. Inoue before she reached the warehouse. You took a deep breath as you looked at the shoulder Yorozu was holding the bow with. The time had come. Your fingers let go of the string while your shoulder was thrown back by inertia. Yorozu looked at the arrow in shock that was approaching her at high speed, she no longer had time to kill any servants. She put down her bow and raised a wall of the same concrete as the bridge to defend herself. Yorozu smiled, proud of her great defense, but it was soon erased when the arrow pierced the concrete and ended up piercing her shoulder completely.
“How the fuck did she do that?!” Yorozu thought, screaming in pain against the ground. The king, Uraume and Kenjaku looked at her surprised that a simple arrow could pierce the concrete.
“It's a good special grade bow.” Kenjaku whistled in amazement.
“It's not a cursed bow,” Uraume answered, somewhat scared as they watched the king's apprentice suffer on the ground.
Sukuna had a big smile from cheek to cheek. His little pawn was turning into a queen. He had never been so proud in his entire life. Her own sister would be the first victim of his future wife. He turned his face to look at you with all the pride in the world, but his smile was also erased when a white-feathered arrow brushed his cheek. Uraume and Kenjaku gasped in shock at the tremendous threat. A small trickle of blood rolled down the king's cheek until it stopped on his chin.
Sukuna analyzed you from head to toe. Your back was straight, your hands gripped the bow tightly, and your gaze was defiant. You were furious, not only with your sister, but also with him for involving her in their deal. You were directly challenging him to kill you because you didn't plan on killing your sister that easily. You could do many things for him, but attack your own flesh and blood, never. If he wanted you to get rid of her so badly, he should let you live after that threat.
Sukuna understood your anger. So much time of senseless orders, humiliation, and anxiety had brought you to the edge of madness, at some point you were going to explode. Sukuna licked his thumb to clean the blood in one go, healing the wound completely. He was going to let it go, but just this once.
"Yorozu," Sukuna called out to your sister as she screamed, she immediately shut up to listen to him. "Are you going to let your sister get away with this after this?" He asked her as he pointed to his hurt cheek.
"Of course not," Yorozu shrieked before stepping down the concrete wall to jump down onto the parade ground. You lowered your weapon as you watched your sister march upright towards you, even though the pain in her shoulder was consuming her. “Poor king, you hurt him because of your bad aim,” Yorozu said before pulling out the arrow, along with a muffled groan of pain as she moved her shoulder.
“It was on purpose,” you admitted angrily. “If I wanted to, I would have shot both your and the king’s heads through.” You raised your bow along with an arrow, aiming for her head.
“Trust me, you don’t want to do that,” Yorozu said, raising her hands.
“Why not?” you asked her.
“Who’s going to take care of Nanako and Mimiko?” Yorozu asked you with a “checkmate” smile. Your eyes widened at the sudden question.
“Where’s mom?” You asked her with a shaky voice as you lost your grip on the bow in helplessness.
“I killed her,” she replied with a smile. You lowered the bow in shock. “I killed her for what she did to you, for what she did to us,” she corrected herself as she approached you before moving her hand back to create a blade behind her back.
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You hated your mother for what she had done to you, but never enough to kill her and leave your sisters motherless. You looked at Yorozu in shock as you realized what she was really capable of doing. You thought she didn’t hate you, that she just wanted what you had like any spoiled child, but you realized that she was more wicked than she looked. She was a bitch.
“Thank you,” you whispered to her, causing Yorozu to stop at the strange reaction.
“You’re welcome,” Yorozu replied with a smile.
“No, seriously…” You said before raising the bow again, aiming straight at her head. “Thanks for making this easier for me, bitch,” you replied as you let go of the string while staring at her head.
Yorozu gasped as she partially dodged the arrow as it tore her cheek. She lunged at you with the knife, but you stopped her by putting the bow between the two of you. She was too close to use an arrow. You pushed her away from you before grabbing another arrow from the quiver, but Yorozu was still so close that you couldn’t do anything but try to hit her with the bow. The brunette dodged it before taking the bow by force. They struggled with the weapon in a contemporary dance until Yorozu snatched it from your hands to use against you. She maneuvered it like a spear to knock you to the ground and hit you in the head. You turned to dodge it, but it only hit you in the back, knocking you completely to the ground. You stifled a scream as you felt the sting of the blow.
“You're not as strong anymore, are you?” She asked before wrapping her body in her green beetle armor.
It had improved quite a bit since you broke it with your fist, as not even Uraume's stalactites could pierce it in their brief confrontation the night before. With that on, she already had your death assured. She was about to prove to Sukuna that she wasn't a weakling after all. She was going to fight for that comfortable life you had and the love of the king.
Spending so much time with him, she felt his unconditional love growing more and more. The way he spoke only to her with that challenging tone, looked at her from head to toe, grabbed her tightly and got closer to her body every time they practiced a fight. He was a real man compared to the idiots she has met throughout her life. While he worked on his documents, she wrote him little love poems in her room that she would recite to him at their wedding. Every night, she rolled around in her bed as she imagined the king on top of her, fantasizing about him making her his until the sun came up in the morning. She woke up so wet that she only wished the next night would come soon.
Yorozu kicked you as she laughed out loud at the tremendous happiness that invaded her body, taking advantage of your weakness for having lost your weapon. You could feel Sukuna’s cold look of disappointment, while your only defensive move was to curl up into a ball like an armadillo. You had no chance of winning anymore, this was your end point. You were going to die here. You had a few good last months of life before your sister was about to take them from you. You cried quietly so as not to give your mortal opponent the benefit of hearing your last cry.
“I’m sorry. I have failed you, father, mother, Nanako, Mimiko, Mrs. Inoue, king…” you thought heartbroken as Yorozu exchanged the knife for a sword. “Once you learn, the song will sound more beautiful than you can imagine,” you thought of that day when Sukuna played the piano with you, when he slept with you, when you played chess. You wanted to have more moments like that with him, but that wouldn’t be possible. “I never learned,” you resigned yourself as you opened your eyes slightly while feeling the wrath of Yorozu’s heavy foot. You saw numerous servants in front of the window, watching the beating they were giving you, but you focused on Mrs. Inoue, who was crying while shouting words at you that you couldn’t understand.
“Thank you, Mrs. Inoue, for teaching me many things,” you thought of the year you spent together. In the good and bad times, in health and in illness, in the long days and the endless nights. You had also disappointed her, I wish you could thank her from the bottom of your heart for being her friend despite being so many years apart. “Don’t be silly, girl. You have everything it takes to be a true queen!” You remembered immediately, as if she had slapped you across the face to make you come to your senses.
Yorozu wielded the sword to cut off your head in a single movement, but you stopped it by grabbing it by the edge, cutting your hands deeply. Even though you had a leather glove on your dominant hand, the sword sliced ​​through your skin all the way to the bone. You bit your tongue to keep from screaming in pain as the sword bathed in your blood. Yorozu struggled with you so that the sword reached your neck, but you focused on her wrists. You kicked her wrists despite the muscle pain so that Yorozu would let go. As soon as Yorozu stepped back, you got up as fast as you could and grabbed the sword with all your willpower to hold it despite having injured hands. You wiped the tears from your eyes, but ended up staining your face with blood as you heard the cheers of the servants. That gave you the push you needed.
“Are you really that desperate to be the queen?” Yorozu scoffed.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” You asked her. “None of what I warned you about entered your hollow head? This is how things are in this castle. If I could go back to my quiet country life, I would in a heartbeat,” you announced to her in a voice rough with pain.
“You’re not serious, do you really want to go back to that dump?” Yorozu asked in disbelief.
“It’ll stop being a dump once I take you out,” you answered with a dry smile. Yorozu growled in response before creating another sword for herself.
The air was tense, charged with skin-tingling anticipation, as if the world itself held its breath. Long, sharp swords flashed in the dark afternoon sun, reflecting the steel that was being readied for the final battle. Both of them charged into combat. The first movement was sudden, an explosion of speed and clumsy clashes. The metallic sound of the swords clashing echoed in the air, like a powerful thunder before the storm. The sisters moved gracefully despite their clumsy feet, their bodies flowing from one attack to the next in a deadly ballet.
Your hands bled more and more each time you gripped the sword tightly. Your weak body could barely defend itself from the immense power your sister had, despite having a hole in her shoulder. You stared at her neck as you moved the sword clumsily. For some reason, you couldn't stop looking at that specific spot. It was as if your body was begging you to do it. You wanted to look away to focus on the fight, but your dense concentration didn't allow it. Yorozu, seeing in your gaze that you were lost in your mind, swung the sword backwards with a cry of pain to cut off your head in the middle of a movement. As soon as she raised her arms, you came back to yourself as if you had suddenly woken up. "Now!" you thought before swinging it at your sister's neck.
The spectators gasped as they saw how in a single movement you cut off your sister's head and both arms. A cold chill ran down Uraume's back as they witnessed it. They quickly reviewed the fight they had had with Yorozu the day before, they were one hundred percent sure that the swords Yorozu could create weren't that strong. If they couldn't cut through a piece of dry ice, they couldn't cut a human being so easily. "She... She has something..." they thought worriedly.
Your sister's incomplete body collapsed against the grass next to a waterfall of blood that bathed you completely. You lowered the sword as you breathed heavily. You were starting to feel dizzy, as if you had been hit by heat stroke. You dropped the weapon as you looked at your masterpiece. Your own little sister torn apart by your own hands. You carefully removed your leather glove to see how your hands had ended up, as if you had no idea what you had done. The cutting sheets fell open, allowing you to see that you were only made of flesh and blood like everyone else. You backed away from the body, staggering from the dizziness. You turned around to fall to your knees against the grass to throw up the strawberries you had eaten for breakfast. Looks like those strawberries wouldn't be yours either.
You looked terrible, worse than in the morning. Your face was covered in blood, your hands were wrecked, your dress was covered in your blood, your sister's blood, and vomit from having your sister's blood on you. At least, the colors of those three viscous liquids matched the red dress. You had cried so much that you felt like your eyes had dried up, so you decided to scream until you felt your vocal cords burning. Your sister didn't deserve a minute of silence like your father, she deserved to hear all the pain she had caused you with her incompetence. Your screams broke the wind that filled your lungs, scaring the crows from the trees.
“Fuck you, Yorozu!” You screamed from the depths of your soul. “I just wanted to take care of you, you jealous bitch! Nothing was good enough for you! Not our life, not the neighbor, not King Gojo! You had it all and yet, you decided to go for the worst option! Stupid whore!”
Sukuna watched you suffer, but something wasn't right. Seeing people suffer has been the biggest reason for his happiness in the millennium he's been alive. He thought that seeing you suffer would be the most rewarding thing in his life, but it wasn't. That great heaviness returned to his chest, as if he was about to jump off a cliff. It physically hurt him to see you in such a vulnerable and heartbroken posture. He gulped to try to deal with his pain, but that wasn't enough. Even though he loved watching you, this time he had to refrain.
You broke the helmet of the armor with the sword to reveal your sister's face. Her black eyes looked at you without any trace of life behind them. Your trembling fingers closed them, feeling the softness of her eyes to your touch. You brought her closer to your body to hug her while you brushed her long hair between your fingers.
“I'm sorry... I really didn't want it to end like this, seriously,” you whispered to her. “Say hello to dad or mom for me and our little sisters…,” you said before realizing what was most important now. You growled, getting upset with your sister again. “Damn, I can't say anything nice to you because now I have to clean up your messes,” you told her before taking off your dirty dress to stay in a corset and white bottom to present yourself before the king as clean as possible.
“Are you okay, my king?” Kenjaku asked him, worried.
“Yes…” He answered quietly. At the strange tone of voice, he cleared his throat. “Yes, better than ever. Plan B worked perfectly,” he answered with his usual strong tone.
Sukuna's plan originally came about as soon as he accepted Yorozu into the castle. He had only accepted her as his servant, and then apprentice, to eventually use her as a hostage to push you to kill some of the servants to save her life. The plan fell apart when everyone started to get fed up with her, except you. That's when plan B came in, that you would kill your sister for the sake of others. You were no longer a pawn, but you weren't a queen either. You were a tower faithful to your sense of justice that couldn't be easily knocked down.
"Actually, plan A would have been more fun to enjoy. This plan ended up being a bit sad, don't you think?" Kenjaku asked him, examining his face, which was downcast from the spectacle.
"My king, the lady is approaching," Uraume warned him as he watched you approach the group on the bridge.
Sukuna turned around to face you, but his heart began to beat like crazy when he saw you up close. Your hair unruly against the wind, your eyes red from anger, blood caking your face, your white clothes bloodied, your hands holding the head of a terrible opponent. Your hips moved subtly as you marched fiercely towards him. His cheeks reddened at the thought of the idea that his future heirs would emerge from there. He wanted to fall to his knees in front of you as he looked like a terrible tyrant who would do whatever it took to expand his kingdom. You looked exactly like he wanted you to look at his side. God, he couldn't wait to propose to you.
He reached into his pants pocket to take a small box he was carrying for the moment when you offered him the head of your victim. He was about to kneel immediately, but you did it first. You placed your sister's head in front of you before hiding your face in your aching hands. Sukuna didn't understand what you were doing.
“My almighty king, I bow before you to beg you to let me leave the castle,” you announced between tears.
“What?” Sukuna, Uraume and Kenjaku answered in unison.
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deusfoundry · 3 months
Text
on bare and freckled skin — bakugo katsuki
summary. bakugo enjoys every kiss you share.
word count. 1.4k
tags. pro hero au. domestic fluff. kissing like a lot. insanely soft. not a lot of dialogue so um be warned ig.
warnings. allusions to sex but nothing too explicit. a tad cheesy but when are my fics not. might be a tiny bit ooc um ... i also didn't really know where i was going w this LMFAOAJKFH not proofread!!!
a/n. i started mha last week and now im obsessed w bakugo i feel insane .. please enjoy
•••••••••
Bakugo enjoys every kiss you share.
He adores the kisses you give him on his cheek.
The ones where you have to stand on your tip toes and he has to lean down, angling his cheek expectantly. Your lips land on his skin to give him a peck. The kiss is delicate and feather-like, as if all you did was brush over his cheeks with the strawberry waffles he cooked for breakfast and the coffee you brewed. He feels the smile on your lips and the way you breathe him in. Inhaling every inch until he's sure that all of him resides in you.
In your soul and under your care.
And it's what gives him the push he needs to head out. The reminder that there's something soft waiting for him after a day of hero-work.
But it leaves him craving for more. There's a fire that flickers over deep wanting, and he knows it can only be satiated by your lips on his.
So he enjoys the one that he gives you right after more. The one he steals from you when you're under the impression that he's already leaving. He doesn't know why you still yelp when he does it every morning without fail, but he swallows the sound and deepens the kiss nonetheless. 
His hand starts wide on your upper back, fingers splayed out as they slide down until they find purchase on your waist. He presses on your skin through the fabric of his shirt that hangs on your frame. The neckline settles on the edge of your shoulder. He knows you stole this one again, probably rummaged through his dresser last night. But he doesn't mind. Not when it'll always smell a little bit like you after you've worn it.
He pulls at the hem of the shirt just enough to slip his hand under the fabric. Your skin is like velvet under the rough pads of his fingers. Under palms hardened by years of training.
But his touch is only soft for you. Firm, yes, because his eagerness gets the better of him and he wants to feel all of you so badly, but never to the point of hurting you. Never enough to bring any pain.
He moves away from your lips, reluctantly, but lingers on the very edge where he plants a final kiss before he opens the door and goes to work.
He chuckles to himself at the state he's left you, mouth agape and ears burning red.
--
He finds that your kisses right when he walks through the door of your apartment is enough to wash away the exhaustion in his bones.
The ones where you rush to move from whatever it is you were working on the moment you hear the locks of the door being fumbled with.
For the most part, it's him catching you in his arms as you run right towards him. It's him pulling you into his warmth after you've been stuck alone for hours in the cold of your apartment. The weighted blanket Ochako gifted you just isn't enough, so he knows you're eager to get some real heat from your own personal furnace.
But on other days, it's like you just know. He doesn't have to utter a single word about the day he's had because you seem to just sense it by the time he sees you walking to your small foyer. He's a little worse for wear on days like these. His knees buckle with each step he takes, arms sore that he struggles to take his coat off and hang it inside the cabinet.
The pain settles so deep in his muscles that it weighs him down. 
He drowns, falls into the pain and fatigue.
And gladly, without a shred of hesitation, you pick him up every single time.
"Welcome home."
You take his hand in yours, knotting your fingers together. You smile with a certain shine that rivals the sun, and it eases him. It allows him to unwrap layers upon layers of himself until he's completely raw. Vulnerable and bare as the day he was brought into this world.
And this time, it's him who melts into your embrace. He lets himself be wrapped in your arms, as far as they could reach, and falls. Fast and hard that it's almost dizzying.
This time, he falls into you.
You place a hand on his cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone and the new scar he's sporting. You inspect it with squinted eyes. For a moment, he thinks you might go on a rant about safety and getting—or at least, trying to—out of the field unscathed.
But you don't. Your lips are pursed in contemplation, still, so he's taken aback when you reach for his face.
You kiss him, fully on the lips.  
It's short and sweet, as everything usually is with you. But he knows that it serves as a promise of comfort that's soon to come. Of dinner on the floor of your living room. Of your full and undivided attention on him. Of nuzzling into the crook of your neck until his hair tickles you and you burst into a fit of giggles.
"You go and wash up, I made your favorite." You tap his chest twice, grinning like a child.
He watches your figure get smaller until you fully disappear into the kitchen, and he's left stunned.
--
He relishes in the ones you share in the comfort of your bedroom, away from the prying eyes of the world.
It's dark without the lights on and the curtains pulled shut. He's practically blind, but he can feel you. Your hands and the way they're grasping for whatever part of him you can grab. Your neck and how his lips seem to gravitate towards it.
He knows you're with him. And in turn, he knows he is safe.
Here, he is the furthest thing away from pro hero Dynamight. Here, he exists as nothing but Katsuki.
your Katsuki.
And the feeling is doubled down with you muttering his name between gasps and deep breaths. You say it directly to his ears. Repeatedly, like a mantra. Like Bakugo is some higher being and you are there to pray to his name.
Katsuki. Katsuki. Katsuki.
You say it until his name is the only thing you know, the only thought running though your muddled mess of a brain. You say it until bakugo truly feels it in the trenches of his bones. 
He is yours. And when he feels you planting a kiss on his collarbone—mumbling sweet, sweet praises on flushed skin, he knows, too, that you are his.
--
But most of all, he enjoys the ones you share in the early hours of the morning.
The ones where he wakes up and is greeted by your back facing him, bare and freckled and covered with scars. He slings an arm over your torso and pulls himself closer to you until his lips are but a hair away from your skin.
He starts at the back of your arm. Kissing up the narrow patch of skin that leads him to the hill of your shoulder where he pours most of his attention to.
To him, it feels like forever and a lifetime of keeping his focus on your back. Of exploring the vast stretch of skin. Of finding new freckles and moles, scars and birthmarks. Your body is a treasure trove, and what good is he if he doesn't take the time to worship you.
He doesn't pause his ministrations even when he feels you stir against him. You stretch, ever so slightly with how Bakugo is clinging to you, but it's still enough movement that you're pulled away from him.
"Quit movin'." he groans, chasing after your skin with his lips.
"Good morning to you too." your voice is hoarse, muffled by the sheets and pillows.
He lets out a low hum when you turn to face him.
Neither of you move for a moment. It's rare for Bakugo to find the time to do nothing with you. To have each other to hold and simply bask in each other's presence as sunlight slowly seeps through your curtains. Not when your day only starts once he's already on his way back from morning runs.
So he takes this in. The sight of you with your hair messy and lips chapped, looking at him with all the love you can hold in your two eyes.
He soaks it all in until he knows there's nothing else he could possibly want than this.
No other lips to kiss and body to hold. No other skin to devote himself to. No other person to love, than you.
•••••••••
a/n. lmfao can u tell i didn't know how to end this hkahsdas pls tell if the characterization is off or if this is too soft for bakugo ... likes and reblogs r highly appreciated! u can leave ur thoughts also on my asks hehe
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shegatsby · 6 months
Text
Love Thy Enemy
Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.
A/N; Hi my little doves, I've missed you, I'm in love with my work lol I really enjoy writing this series so don't forget to share your thoughts with me. Don't worry, there will be SMUT in the future chapters. Sorry for any typos English isn't my first language.
TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Text me if i forgot to tag you little doves 🕊️ ♥️)
Warnings; Violence. Angst. Enemies to lovers. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha,reader is reffered to as she/her.
Words; 2.232K
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Chapter Four- ‘’Misery Begins’’
Giedi Prime, House Harkonenn
The air felt heavy in her lungs, the planet was orbiting a black sun, thus, everything outside looked black and white, no wonder these people were raised like animals, planet’s harsh conditions shaped their characteristics. The second she stepped out of the ship she hated every single thing but kept a firm stance.
Now she was settling in the guest quarters, the wedding was to be in 7 days and thankfully Harkonnen traditions says that they, under any circumstance, cannot stay in the same room.
Y/N had few of her personal maids and the rest was Harkonnen servants, all dressed in black with bald heads and pale, thin figures. Y/N noticed the looks she got from them, an outsider…
Inside the fortress one could see colors yet Harkonenns choose to keep it simple, her chambers consisted of a bedroom,  a small living room, and bathroom. Without a word she moved to the velvet armchair which was facing outside, she didn’t want to engage in any conversation with anyone, ‘’Prepare my bath.’’ She ordered without looking at any of them and then moved to the desk in her bedroom to write a letter to her family saying that she landed on the planet safely and everything was fine of course she knew that every letter she would sent was going to be read by Feyd-Rautha’s most trusted politicians, maybe even by himself so she kept the letter short. ‘’Send this to my family.’’ She gave the metal, thin device which was the letter to a servant, ‘’Yes my Lady.’’
After her bath which consisted of warm water and bath oils she brought from home, she smelled fresh and felt better. She was on her desk reading when her door was knocked, ‘’Yes?’’
A servant girl entered, she looked sickly pale and thin, her eyes on the floor, her hands interlaced on her thin stomach, ‘’Na-Baron wishes to dine with you my Lady.’’ It wasn’t a wish, it was an order. ‘’The trip have made me exhausted, please tell Na-Baron that I desire to rest.’’
She noticed the girl’s change of body language, her eyes rose to look at her ladyship pleadingly.  Y/N kindly smiled at the girl, oblivious to what was going to happen, she dismissed the servant girl.
The black sun of Giedi Prime shone bright just like the day before, Y/N decided to do some reading, learn more about the planet’s ecosystem. She had a light breakfast, the air still stingy in her lungs, she didn’t have much appetite.
Y/N Atreides was on her desk, taking notes and reading and her door knocked, ‘’Come in.’’ she was focused on the old books, ‘’My Lady.’’
‘’Yes?’’ she turned to face a man, he was a guard in his dark uniform. ‘’Na-Baron has a gift for you. He insists that you should open it after I am dismissed.’’ A strange request but what wasn’t strange about him anyways?!
Y/N couldn’t read the guard’s expression, his face was a blank slate, however he look more pale than usual skin color, was he ill? ‘’Thank you, place the box on the floor and you may be dismissed.’’ He did what he was told. She stood up and approached to the metal box, there was a strong smell of iron coming from it, it appeared there was no lock, no writings. Just in case, she placed the portable force field on her hand, activated it and tested it, working just fine.
Her hand went to open the metal box and her first reaction was to scream in terror, and her second reaction was to run to her bathroom and throw up her breakfast, shaking uncontrollably, on her knees like a wild animal.
Y/N Atreides didn’t know how many minutes or decades she had spent in that position, finally one of her old maids came for her rescue. ‘’My Lady…’’ she was an old woman with white hair and motherly touch, ‘’It’s okay now..’’ she was rubbing Y/N’s back gently and whispering kind words.  ‘’Is it-‘’ she sobbed, ‘’is it gone?’’
‘’I took care of it my Lady.’’ She helped Y/N stand up and leave the bathroom. The metal box which had the servant girl’s head was gone and yet she could feel her eyes watching her every move. She threw the shield on her hand and marched out of her chambers. There was a solider guarding her chambers, ‘’Where is Na-Baron?’’ she asked trying to control her tone. ‘’He has a meeting with Baron Vladimir and Glossu Rabban.’’
‘’Take me to him.’’ She said, could feel the anger on her chest, so hefty. ‘’But my Lady-‘’
‘’Take me to him.’’ She used the voice on him, the guard, without a word started to guide her to the meeting room. The corridors of the fortress were mostly black, some grey and white here and there, there were guards on watch duties, servants cleaning or carrying stuff. It was so different than the environment she grew up in, in Caladan or Emperor’s planet was vivid and thriving, here it was just… lifeless. She cursed her fate.
There were two guards on the doors of the meeting room, ‘’Open.’’ She used the voice again and the doors were opened slowly, Baron Vladimir was sitting on a metal chair which was placed on marble steps, towering over Glossu Rabban and Feyd-Rautha who were standing and looking up at him, listening to him as if their lives depend on it.. well.. they weren’t wrong. Baron was surprised to see her. ‘’Lady Y/N!’’ he announced which made the boys look at her direction but she refused to look at them, her focus was on Baron. ‘’What a lovely surprise, I hope you quarters to your liking.’’ Y/N bowed in courtesy, ‘’Thank you my Baron, you are the most generous.’’ She had to control her anger and she was doing a good job, keeping things formal. She had to be respectful to the family otherwise her position let alone her life would be at stake, she remembered Feyd’s words; ‘’Try to humiliate me again and see what happens, little dove.’’ The room was barren with only a long marble table and chairs, the curtains were closed and white glowglobes lighting the room, no carpets, no ornaments. ‘’What do we owe the pleasure of your visit?’’ he asked, she could see he was trying to understand her moves. ‘’I must speak with Na-Baron. It is urgent.’’ Finally she turned to face him, even though he was standing far away she could see his body reacting to her words, he was alert and an animalistic shine on his eyes. ‘’Feyd, please escort your wife-to-be to a more secluded area and discuss.’’ His uncle said and Feyd bowed to him quickly, ‘’Yes uncle.’’ And then he turned to her, marching like a soldier, he held her arm and escorted her out of the room, his grip was tight, he made her follow him. Since there were guards and servants everywhere she didn’t dare to utter a word.
Y/N had no idea where they were going, the fortress was a maze and every corridor looked similar. They reached a door, Feyd dismissed the guards and opened the heavy black door. Quite frankly he threw her inside, before she got a chance to look around she spit her venom. ‘’What is wrong with you?!’’ Feyd looked puzzled, ‘’Did you really beheaded that girl just because I refused to dine with you?!’’ she could feel her whole body shake in anger, being in his presence disturbed her equilibrium. ‘’Oh, that.’’ He remembered, his behavior made it worse for her. ‘’Yes, that!’’ He didn’t close the space between them, his hands behind his back. ‘’Did I upset you, little dove?’’ was he mocking her? ‘’Upset?!’’ Y/N couldn’t believe her ears, what happened to that sweet boy she met years ago?
He started to move towards her like a predator, he was much taller than her, towering above her she had to look up to meet his icy blue orbits. Years had turned him into a killing machine, what a shame. She hoped to see remorse in those beautiful eyes but found nothing. Back of his hand found her heated cheek, touching ever so gently, it made one wonder how could he behead an innocent girl and then touch his wife-to-be like a tender lover. ‘’This is what happens when you reject my orders.’’ His voice calm and collective. ‘’I hate you!’’ and she pushed his chest but had no impact so she moved away from his aura. That’s when she noticed that they were in his quarters of the fortress, she remembered the fact that he dismissed the guards, no one to help her if things were to took a turn. ‘’You hate me?’’ he asked, still calm. ‘’What else… do you also fear me?’’
‘’No.’’ she simply answered. His none existent eyebrows rose, his pupils dilated ever so slightly, she noticed how still he was, like a statue. His nostrils flared with a passion she could not placed.
‘’No? So you don’t fear me.’’ He repeated back, folding his arms, he wasn’t angry, only curious. ‘’Not at all?’’
‘’You aren’t allowed to hurt me.’’ Her voice higher than his.
‘’Not allowed?’’ he tilted his head, his voice low and husky, ‘’and how can you be so certain of such?’’ a slight smile pulled at his plump lips, ‘’What makes you so confident in that?’’ he knew his own intentions but he was curios of what went on within her pretty head. There was a certain aura about Y/N that intrigued Feyd, he was watching, listening and studying her.
‘’Let me go back to my home.’’ She whispered, even she didn’t believe herself but that was her intention, to go back and ride her horse, walk in the lush gardens, laugh with her other Bene Gesserit friends. ‘’You assume you have the final word where you go.’’ He chuckled, his voice lower than before. ‘’I decide where you go.’’ His gaze grew sharp like an animal, ‘’I decide what you do. And what I decide..’’ Feyd laughed again, ‘’You’re going to obey.’’
‘’I had a life before you took me, I had a family and friends and, and..’’ she could feel her eyes getting blurry, ‘’And?’’ he insisted, ‘’I had a partner, a lover, and you scared him away!’’ she was practically yelling at this point, female rage taking over her body. ‘’A lover? Don’t make me laugh little girl. If he was so in love with you-‘’ he opened his arms looking around, ‘’where is he? Why isn’t he here defending your honor and saving you from me?!’’ with the mention of Y/N’a former partner Pyramus, Feyd-Rautha wasn’t so calm anymore, he could feel rage rising in his body.  
‘’Because of you! You scared him and he ran! Otherwise he would be here-‘’
‘’Don’t be that stupid Y/N! He wasn’t so scared when I offered him a deal.’’
And with that Y/N was confused, ‘’What deal?’’
Feyd-Rautha was pacing in the room in anger, he couldn’t believe she was still ‘’in love’’ with that low life, waste of space. ‘’I offered him a supply of spice which will outlive him and his children and his children’s children. A generation wealth so to speak.’’
Y/N was shaking her head in rejection, her gaze focused on the floor, ‘’No, no,’’ she whispered, not believing what Feyd was suggesting. ‘’Yes Y/N! Your lover didn’t hesitate a second and took the deal.’’
‘’Then why did he try to escape with me?!’’ she yelled in pain, her heart was torn into pieces, ‘’I wanted you to see how pathetic he was and I staged it.’’ Feyd’s chest heaving with anger and he was so passionate to prove her he was right, he turned to go to the next room and brought back a metal device, he opened it, ‘’Here, he signed the deal.’’ She took it and saw the spice deal written on it, millions of gallons.. and Pyramus’ signature at the bottom…
Feyd grabbed the metal device and threw it on the couch near him, ‘’Not going to lie, you weren’t cheap.’’ And she slapped him.
Feyd-Rautha was slapped by a woman for the first time in his life, he froze for a second, shocked to see how bold she could be. He was even turned on a bit. With both of his hands he grabbed her delicate shoulders tightly, he was much stronger than her. ‘’LET GO OF ME-‘’
Feyd-Rautha didn’t care what she wanted, ‘’I might hurt you physically Y/N, but I would never do that to you. I would never sell what’s mine for something else. Do you hear me?!’’ his voice was rough and irritated her ears, her body was in shock and her shoulders hurting her. ‘’I would never leave what’s mine behind and walk away, I am a man, see me as a man not that little boy you met years ago!’’
Was that a love confession, no it couldn’t be.. someone like Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen couldn’t possibly feel something so pure and innocent, or was it just being possessive and showing her that her life was in his hands till death do them apart. The stress overcame her body, her vision was getting darker and the last thing she saw was Feyd’s pretty eyes.
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Thank you for reading. :)
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midnightbears · 3 months
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✿ and what would you do, baby, if you only knew? that i can see you!
— in which your neighbor colonel alejandro vargas has certainly become comfortable in watching you through his window...
#STARRING. alejandro vargas. rodolfo parra. ft. fem!reader
#TAGS. nswf. perv!alejandro. masturbating. english is not my first language
#NOTES. FIRST TIME WRITING THIS KIND OF THING PLEASE BEAR WITH ME IDK IF ITS GOOD
© midnightbears on tumblr, june 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
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pervert neighbor! alejandro who didn't realize a pretty little thing had moved to the house beside his until rodolfo pointed out the newly planted lilies inside the pots bordering the newbie's house.
pervert neighbor! alejandro who, despite his disciplined exterior, develops a guilty pleasure in watching his attractive new neighbor. he rationalizes it as ensuring the neighborhood's safety! but deep down, he knows it's more personal.
pervert neighbor! alejandro who sets up his morning coffee ritual by the window, where he has a perfect view of your front yard and your window room. it becomes part of his daily routine to check if you’re outside, tending to your garden or just enjoying the sun. especially when you're wearing those shorts that fit you like skin...
pervert neighbor! alejandro who finds excuses to be outside whenever you are. he'll check the mail, water his plants, or pretend to fix something just to catch a glimpse of your sweet self or exchange a few words. and what a devious little thing you are; all saccharine smiles and overly promiscuous necklines, you bake cookies for your neighbors but don't notice the way men ogle at you with the skimpy clothes you own.
pervert neighbor! alejandro who becomes hyper-aware of anyone else who approaches you. alejandro tells himself it’s just his military training. he's just looking out for you, he swears, but there’s an underlying jealousy when he sees you with others. he tries to convince himself he's just being cautious, but the truth is, he loathes seeing you with anyone else.
pervert neighbor! alejandro who curses under his breath when, one night, you come out of the shower and enter your room as naked as the day you were born, not realizing that the colonel can see every little bit of you through your window because you've forgotten to close the blinds... how silly of you.
pervert neighbor! alejandro who starts fisting his cock like a madman, wishing it was your sweet mouth instead of his hand. and he pulls and tugs and hisses while you innocently meander about in your bedroom, taking oh so long in finding your garments for the night... and when you do, you slip into your lacy nightgown as if you were putting a fucking show for someone, and he cums inside his hand with a slow moan, throwing his head back.
pervert neighbor! alejandro who regains his composure only to see you lay down in your bed, one of your hands shyly traveling across your chest and ribcage, fluttering above your stomach, down your belly button... and finally between the place where you need it most.
pervert neighbor! alejandro who, my fucking god, is completely entranced with how you make a spectacle of yourself, blood rushing straight to his dick and bringing it back to life.
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peeweekey · 4 months
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everyone adores you (at least i do)
pairing: sam x reader
wc: 1.1k
tags: CHEEEEESY cheesy cheesy puppy love, mutual pining, sam is PATHETICALLY down bad, pre-relationship, abigail and sebastian mentioned, friends to lovers
synopsis: if it were up to sam, he'd spend every second of everyday at your side.
a/n: in all of my other sam fics, its reader embarrassingly in love with him...he gets a taste of his own medicine here lol!
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With vanilla ice cream melting and dripping down your fingertips, coarse sand underneath you and the salty ocean waves lapping at your feet; you are a child again, sitting with your grandpa at the docks, watching as he reeled in a ‘big one’. Filling his bucket with loads and loads of fish.
Those days are far gone now, but the memory remains, as clear as the day you remember it. The feeling is nostalgic, sleepy in the way your senses are dulled by syrupy thick contentment. Beaches at sunset have that effect on you, you suppose. 
“This is fun,” Sam says, tone lacking its boisterous loudness, you almost don’t hear it over the sound of crashing waves. “I had a lot of fun today, farmer.”
Your eyes flicker to him, his green gaze dead-set on the peachy golden sky, the taste of sea salt mingling with sweet ice cream heavy in your tongue. The sea breeze is cold, whipping against your face and running through your hair.
“I did too,” you agree. “Y’know, I don’t get a lot of off time with the farm and stuff. This is a nice change of pace.”
He smiles, that sunshine smile you’ve come to associate with Sam. “I caught you at just the right time then, huh?” 
You shrug, your own smile mirroring his. “Auspicious.” He did.
The sun is setting, the day is coming to a close yet Sam wishes it wouldn’t, silently pleading with any higher being to somehow stretch time. He is barely a religious person, but the weight of his want is enough to transcend his own beliefs. Every second with you barely feels like enough; like sand slipping through his fingers.
One thing’s for certain, Sam isn’t going to just let it end here.
“We should hang out like this again,” Sam says, a little hurriedly, captured all in one breath. Shy and tentative, like a bashful child with a school crush. “Uh, I mean, do you? Wanna? Hang out with me?”
You can barely suppress a delighted chuckle from slipping past your lips, your chest warming with fond affection. “I’d be more than happy to. Yoba knows I need a break or two or I’ll actually explode,” you huff while Sam hums in agreement. “We can even invite Abigail and Sebastian… so can demo that new song for me, I see you all working very hard when I visit sometimes.”
He should be happy to hear that; that you’d be more than happy to spend your precious off time with him out of all people. You and him, him and you, Sam and the farmer. Your name connected to his with ‘and’, it makes him giddy, causes his cheeks pinken and pinken. 
Just the two of you, though. Sure, he loves his friends, Abby and Seb have been with him since day one. But it feels out of place—
(Sam, Sebastian, Abigail and the farmer doesn’t have that ring to it…)
“Yeah, I—I dunno, it’s just…”
The unfiltered truth is stupid, at least to him. Vincent is far too young for some of the things Sam longs to say. There’s a reason Abby and Seb hang out under his nose, he won’t blame them, they have their own secrets he isn’t privy to—too serious, too dull for him.
(And now with you, he thinks you might just be the one he can share his own secrets with. Because even he has his own serious, dull thoughts. Thoughts that he doesn’t want brushed away with a snarky remark or a sarcastic laugh.)
“I kinda like that it’s just the two of us?” 
His voice sounds unsteady, squeaky. Trailing off at the end, lost in the sound of water crashing at your feet. Phrasing his statement into a question that you could deny, that you could easily brush off—because if you did, he would too. 
(It would be a bummer if you did though, but Sam is cool with that, chill with any decision you make. Really, he totally is.)
You grin, bumping your shoulder against his, your ice cream is dripping down, down, down your knuckles. Once your skin meets his, you don’t pull away, you press closer and closer to his side. Leaning your head against his sunburnt shoulder—but he barely registers the sting—and your arm against his own. It’s a pleasant weight, having you against him—grounding and tethering him to you.
“I do too. Like it, I mean. I think I get to see so many other sides to you, Sam. Without the others and all that.”
Sam feels his breath hitch, his cheeks flush even pinker even with the sunburns. “Woah, phew, I mean—awesome… When, when do you think we can meet next?”
You tilt your head, running calculations through your mind. You’re very busy on that farm, he knows; but Sam can’t help but keep his hopes up, you’re fun company. Maybe the best he’s had yet.
“I know I won’t have enough time until my melons are ready for harvesting—and don’t you dare try making a joke about that,” you smile, wide and cheeky. Right as Sam readies an innuendo at the tip of his tongue; it makes his blood pump faster and his breathing stutters at the thought of you knowing him so well. 
“So how about this?” you propose slowly. “We spend one day every month doing all the stuff we wanna do, together. just you and me—fun right? I’ll even sleep a little earlier the night before.”
Sam bites into his ice cream—chocolate and your treat, at your insistence—though he isn’t quite sure if the immediate smile on his lips is due to its sweetness, or yours.
He leans closer into you, resting his head on top of yours, strands of your hair tickling his lips. Lowering his voice into a whisper so only you can hear.
(The secret is that you make Sam want. Want, want, want like he’ll never get sick of it. He hoards these stolen moments with you so greedily yet wants more.)
“…two days, two days each month.”
He feels your body shake with the strength of your laughter, warmth swirls all throughout his body, tingling wherever your body brushes against his own. Sam finds that he likes the feeling, the buzz of it—it’s addicting.
“Yeah, alright then,” you reply, mirth dripping from each and every word. “two days. We have a deal. Better?”
“Yeah,” he turns back to face the water, the ocean spray misting his face. “Yeah, a lot better. That does sound fun.”
Anything sounds fun when it involves you.
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