#if i was cursed by her i would say thank you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trendywaifus · 2 days ago

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↳ you’re my violet in the sun! (part one!)

a/n: ngl if i were to truly make this a friends with benefits fic, it would of been a bit toxic and sad. two parts btw. ly all.

cw: gn! reader with a dick, virgin! reader, reader down bad asf, no established relationship, reader is a pubsec! officer, reader described to be taller and have pretty lips at some point but gn ofc, you’re such a honest loser and jane’s a sucker for it, confessions during sex, creampie, praise, worship, oral fixation, cum-eating, tail-job (lol), cursing, mind dumbfication, size kink, vaginal penetration, pussydrunk, blowjob

you walk through the bustling streets of lumina square, fresh off your shift with an aching body. fortunately, you shed your heavy equipment from your person after clocking out so you’re able to tread around easier. who would of thought that solving mundane cases like chasing after lost cats and calming down rowdy teenagers would make you drained today? since you had worked with your rookie squad partner, seth, it made things a little easier. since he was a cat thiren, he has a natural affinity with cats and is certainly proving himself to be a good addition to the criminal investigation response team. but, his character is a little too. .earnest for your liking. seth is a textbook good guy but you don’t like how he endangers himself sometimes. however, it was either him, qingyi, or the captain. zhu yuan doesn’t like messing with furry animals and isn’t exactly good at talking to teenagers. qingyi. .isn’t really good with teenagers or cats either for obvious reasons so there’s not much to say there.

with a heavy sigh, you walked through the crosswalk as the pedestrian signal light turns green. a nice cup of coffee should do it and then when you return home, you’ll make some dinner. you should have enough ingredients for alfredo after doing a grocery run recently. you’re deep in your thoughts as you walk with a small crowd of civilians who’s busy with their own plans. suddenly, a finger lightly taps you on your left shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. you crane your neck to glance over at that shoulder and left puzzled when you couldn’t find the person who did it.

“ haha, on your right~ “ the familiar saccharine voice snickers.

your stomach flutters as you turn your head to the source of the voice. you lock eyes with your colleague, jane. she gives you a playful smile, siren eyes crinkling. “ y-you play too much. .a normal hi would of sufficed. “ you groan, crossing your arms as she softly laughs besides you. she always sounds so pretty when she laughs. her voice pleasantly rings in your ears and you try your best to not let it linger on your mind. subconsciously hooking her left finger back with her coat strap, she steadily matches your walking speed.

“ sorry, sorry. i saw you walking down here after a important phone call. you seemed a little exhausted so i wanted to make you smile. i guess i should try a different method, huh sweetheart? “

sweetheart? your cheeks burn.

“ th-there’s no need, “ you start, fiddling with your belt to distract yourself from the butterflies jittering around in your tummy. “ i was going to get some coffee at coff’s cafe to help my exhaustion. um, thank you though, miss jane. “

you’re so polite and awkward, it’s adorable.

“ oh? “ you feel her interested gaze on you. “ you don’t mind me coming along, do you? i could use some caffeine right now because i’ve been pushing myself a little too hard lately. i feel like eating a energy bar right now wouldn’t give me the extra kick that i need. ”

you thought about it for a moment. although you’re quite shy around jane, you enjoy her company. you just need to swallow back your social anxiety and hold a decently long conversation with her. it’s quite hard though when she’s gorgeous. “ i don’t mind, miss jane. i. .would appreciate your company. “ you’d admit, sending the shorter woman a warm smile that came out too awkward for your liking. there’s a certain glimmer in her siren eyes as they slightly widen. her rodent ears lightly jitter before she reciprocates your smile back with a soft one.

“ . .alright, good. “

after a minute of walking, you stroll into coff’s caffe with jane at your side. you greet tin master with a small wave and ordered what you want. “ mochaccino, please. what about you, miss jane?”the rat thiren hums thoughtfully.

“ hm, a latte is fine. “

tin master enthusiastically collects your orders and fixes up your coffees.

“ so, “ the tin master begins as he swirls the cream on your mochaccino. “ are you two perhaps a couple now? it’s my first time seeing you two together. if so, you made the right choice, miss jane. they maybe a little shy and stiff but hopefully you can help get them out of their com—“

bashful, you abruptly cut him off, sputtering, “ n-no, tin, w-we’re just grabbing coffee today—not dating, just c-colleagues! “

“ . .oop! i’m sorry! l-let me just finish with your orders! forget what i said! “

jane blinks several times, glancing between you hiding your flustered face with your head tilted away from her and the tin master nervously humming away as he does the last finishing touches with her latte. such a comedic sight to see—it feels like she’s in a comedy romance movie. jane bursts into a fit of giggles, bringing a palm to her mouth as she does. “. . .hahaha! i will, i will. but, i do like to admit that they’re quite the cutie~”

“ j-janne. . “ you grumble, carefully taking your cup of coffee after the tin master slides yours and hers on the counter.

“ i’m just teasing you, (name). you don’t have to take everything i say to heart sometimes~ “ though, what she said was the truth. you’re very easy on the eyes.

jane gets her own cup and follows you over to the small tables. you sat down at a seat with a soft sigh. she sits down alongside you, and plucks a spoon from the small bin containing the silverware. jane curls her tail around her leg to keep it contained. a small moment of silence sinks in between you two and you anxiously think about what to say. maybe ask about the important phone call she mentioned about earlier? no, she��s a consultant, most of the information she receives is classified, even for you. perhaps her day? that’s a good general question to ask. you wonder why she’s been pushing herself lately.

“ so. .miss jane? “

“ hm? “ the light sound of metal hits your ears as she aimlessly stirs her coffee, dissipating tin master’s latte art. poor guy.

“ . .how was your day? you mentioned to me earlier about how you’ve been pushing yourself lately. by any chance, are you prepping for a big case? “

jane nods with a “mhm” before explaining, “ yeah, but i can’t really say anything given the severity of the case and i’m sure you’ll be brought to light about it soon enough. “

she sips on her latte. the relaxing, rich contents seeps down her throat, filling her body with a satisfying warmth.

you give her a puzzled expression. ‘brought to light about it?’ since jane works under pubsec and the criminal investigation response team as the specialist—perhaps captain zhu yuan assigned her to the case first before informing the rest of the team. you might be expecting another raid operation in the following days or so.

“ so, when are you leaving for it? are you going under a different alias this time? “

she shakes her head, chuckling, “ i’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning. for this case, jane doe will do just fine. “

oh? so her actual fake name. you lift the cup to your lips, the creamy fluid explodes on your tongue. you’re unaware of jane’s keen gaze watching you. with a satisfied sigh, you set the cup back down, feeling the soft cream on your top lip. you stick out your tongue to lick away the residue. jane’s ears flutter with unknown intent, cyan eyes slightly narrowing. “ so, how was your day? anything interesting happened?”she inquires, lazily propping a leg over the other, and rested her chin on her gloved palm.

you perk up nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “ well, not exactly. chasing pets and squashing teenager squabbles was really all i did. “ jane drums her finger against the wooden surface, silently identifying your awkward tendencies that makes her smile a little. rubbing your neck, fiddling around with your fingers, while having that small, sheepish smile on those pretty lips of yours, and you’re glancing around—you can barely look her in the eye. despite your size, you’re quite the adorable little officer.

“ oh, really? squashing teenage squabbles? i’m wondering how you’re able to do that when you can barely look at me while we talk. you don’t have to be nervous around me, i’m just here to give you company. i don’t bite. “ she teases light-heartedly, her carmine lips curling upwards more as you laugh awkwardly.

“ w-well, it’s just you’re. .”

“ i’m what? “ jane eggs on with an amused expression on her features. her tail unwraps from her leg and lowly sways.

“ you’re very. .beautiful so it’s hard for me to talk to you sometimes—“

“ pfft, hahaha! “ jane lets out an endearing laugh, nearly hunching over with a hand on her stomach.

“ d-don’t laugh, miss jane! i didn’t know what else to say—i was only being honest! “ you stammer, lips pursing into a thin line.

“ no, no, you’re fine, sweetheart. that’s what i like about you. i-i was just taken back by how cute you really are. i haven’t laughed like that in a while. “ jane wipes the tears from the corner of her eyes with a thumb. you decide to take a few more sips of your coffee, fighting back the dopey smile threatening to spread across your lips.

after an hour of talking, you long since finished your coffees. she’s so lovely. you only worked with her a few times in operations and had some occasional small talk during your patrols. this was the first time you sat down and had a long conversation with her. you learned about her taste in action movies, taste in music, and what she usually does on her days off. despite how quick she is on her feet, jane’s more of a laid-back person. you almost can’t believe that she likes to have lazy days where she snacks on energy bars? that’s unexpected but somehow fitting for her. it’s starting to get late but admittedly, you want to spend more time with her before she leaves for her case the next morning.

you stand outside of the cafe with jane, swallowing thickly as she wraps up her conversation with you so she can head back home and prepare for her next case. before she can bid you goodbye, you blurt out, “ actually. .i’m making alfredo tonight. do. . you want to come over and have some dinner with me, miss jane? i-itt’ll also be beneficial for you so you wake up with extra energy in the morning. . “ you offer awkwardly, shifting your weight on the opposite foot.

the fairly, sable haired woman merely stares at you with a quizzical look on her face for a short moment. anxious under her stare, you shift your weight on the other foot. jane breaks out into a fond smile, her tail swishing slowly, mirroring her delight. “ i guess it wouldn’t hurt to join you, sweetheart. how far are you from here? “

you exhaled a quick puff of air in relief. “ at least twenty minutes away from here. i take the metro. “

“ interesting. .we could be in the same neighborhood because i take the metro and that’s the estimated time that it usually takes for me to come home from here. “

that really is interesting. how come you never see her if you and her are from the same neighborhood?

“ i’m usually out and about during evenings and throughout the nights so that might be why we don’t really see each other. “

ah.

you unlock the front door of your home and opened it for her. “ you first, miss jane. “ you smile politely at her and she smiles back. she brushes past you, the pointed end of her tail gingerly grazes under your chin as a silent, playful thank you. “ o-oh. . “ you murmur, easily flustered by her mischievous gesture and followed her inside, closing the door behind you then locking it. jane slips off her boots and steps inside your living room. she scopes out the decently large space with visible interest. it’s tidy and feels homey, not to mention, it smells just like you.

“ so, um, yeah this is my home. “ you force out a little shy laugh that she finds endearing. “ i’m going to go freshen up and change first before i cook anything. you can rest on the couch and listen to the radio, o-or watch tv while you wait. do you want me to give you some water before i go? “

jane slips off her bomber coat and sets it on the elbow of the couch she have decided to rest on. a black, sleeveless mock neck crop top that fits her and her style perfectly. that’s what she usually wears underneath? she’s looks so good in that. you hold yourself back from staring longer than you should. “ no, i’m okay. thanks. i’ll be right here when you come back~” she sing songs, plopping down on the sofa and stretches out her limbs. jane waves at you playfully and giggles when you scurry off to your bedroom.

“ sweet thing. .today may not be so tiresome after all.” she trails off, skimming a quick thumb over her polished red nails.

jane decides to turn on the portable radio that’s settled on the coffee table in front of her. carefully, she adjusts the notch, glossing over channels until the one that suits her taste pops up. a slow r&b song that she often hears from time to time fills the quiet atmosphere of the living room. exhaling, she leans back against the head of the couch and checks her phone for any new dms and calls. she sighs with relief when she discovers none and rests her device on the rounded table. it took a little over thirty minutes before you come back out—in a tank top and sweatpants. jane always wondered what you’d look like outside of your uniform and she is not disappointed by the sight in front of her. how could you look so good while being such a socially awkward sweetheart? there are many interesting characters within pubsec but it’s still surprising that you’re one of them and a good one at that. her primal thiren instincts softly kicks in the longer her stare lingers on your form.

“ sorry that i kept you waiting, let me go make the food. “

“ or better yet, “ jane purrs, admiring you from head to toe with an inviting gaze that makes you shiver. “ come here. let’s talk some more. ” she pats a spot next to her. you gulp and made your way over to the long sofa where she resides at. your fresh scent pass through jane’s nostrils as you sat down next to her which stirs something from within her. yet, jane tries to ignore the growing sense of yearn that’s slowly chipping away at her self control. there’s that nervous glint in your (e/c) eyes that almost makes you look innocent.

“ miss jane— “

“ just jane, sweetheart. you’re making me feel old when you say it so sweetly like that. we’re just about the same age. “ the rat thiren corrects through a soft, half whisper and chuckle, running a steady hand down your arm and squeezed your biceps. you slowly bob your head, subconsciously running your tongue across your lips. jane’s gaze follows the movement of your kissable lips before flickering back up at your eyes. “ jane, um, so what is there you wanted to talk about? “ you inquired gently, cheeks hot and so is the blood coursing through your veins. she doesn’t think she can hold herself back—not when her thiren senses is beginning to act up like this.

her rat ears flutter, not once, but twice.

“ have you. .ever been with anyone like this before, sweetheart? “

your gaze shifts off to the side.

“ no, eyes back over here. look at me. “ she holds your jaw with her gloved palm and maneuver your head back to her. a helpless noise vibrates in your chest as her siren eyes bleeds into yours.

“ i. . no. “ you muttered, ashamed.

jane releases your jaw to caress your cheek, “ that’s okay. there’s no need to be ashamed about it. do you trust me? “ she asks in a hushed tone, closing the proximity between you and her until the intoxicating scent of her perfume wafts strongly against your nose and you can feel her calm breath against your lips. her thumb massages your cheekbone in a tender manner while she waits for an answer. you swallow, gathering the courage to say one word that’s threatening to spill from your tongue.

“ y-yeah—“

soft lips press against yours in a quick kiss, gladly consuming the surprised sound rumbling in your throat. jane shifts forward, her free hand plants itself on your shoulder and gently push your upper body downward until your back hits the cushions. she hovers on top of you, situating herself between your legs. one of your legs is hanging off the long sofa while the other is bent on it. her fingers skim down to your jaw and slowly traced the outline of it. your heart is beating fast against your rib cage, pumping blood lower and lower to the specific part of your body that exposes your excitement.

“ ah? “ jane momentarily pulls back to eye the tight outline of the growing bulge hardening in your sweat pants. she’s only seeing the preview and she can already tell that you’re big. you’re full of surprises aren’t you? excitement flows her veins like an injection of anti-corruption serum. she rolls her bottom lip between her teeth with profound anticipation. “ . . .j-jane, you’re staring. .”you pointed out shyly, tentatively placing your hands on her waist. a nonchalant hum simmers in her chest.

“ am i baby? sorry, it’s hard not to when you’re under me like this. “ jane simpers, dipping down to lay sweet kisses on your cheek before targeting your lips again. unlike last time, it’s a firm press which is nearly not enough to signify her want for you. but because you’re obviously inexperienced, she want to take it slow with you. you nervously apply pressure to her sweet lips, faintly tasting the cherry balm and latte she consumed earlier with you. your hands lack confidence as they run down her sides.

“ don’t be nervous. touch me more, i’m all yours for tonight. “ and maybe for many nights more. she takes one of your hands and guides it to her right breast. with the help of her delicate guidance, you gently squeezed her through her black, mock neck crop top. the plump flesh feels tender and pliable even through the silk fabric. a pleased hum leaves her. jane’s pillowy lips smoothly slot between yours by the slight tilt of her head. your head becomes light-headed as the slow, dizzying kiss lasts longer and longer. the hand that was once over yours drops and slips under your tank top. your body slightly arches into her warm palm as it explores the plane of your belly.

your mouth parts and so does hers, following after your lead. “ j-jane, “ you murmur in between quivering breathes and soft open-mouthed kisses to your lips. a mhmm?, rasps in her throat. the aforementioned woman’s hand edges near the waistband of your sweats.

“ th-this is my first time. . “ you mutter breathily as if to remind her.

jane slowly pulls away, half-lidded teal eyes softening once they pool into yours. “ . .i. .know, “ then she reels herself back from her carnal desires for a moment to rationalize. was she really intending on taking your first time when she’s not even in a romantic relationship with you? you don’t even know much about her or her true name. did she seriously allow herself to give in at the heat of the moment? didn’t you originally invite her over to eat dinner with you? your first time should be with someone you wholeheartedly know and love. you deserve a genuine experience with someone who’s just as genuine as you are. it shouldn’t be her. she belongs in the shadows, not in the soft light of your eyes. she shoves back her growing feelings for you before things get more complicated than they are now.

jane sighs almost dejectedly, straightening up her back. you hold onto her waist. she’s vague as she apologizes. “. . let’s stop. i’m sorry, i should of known better than to do this when you’ve only invited me over as your guest to eat. . let go, i’ll take my leave. “

your eyes widen with confusion and hurt.

“ j-jane, no. please don’t apologize and go, i want this too. “

her turquoise hues study the expression on your face; you look like a sad, kicked puppy. damn, it’s making her not want to go. she doesn’t want to leave you alone like this and prefers it when you’re happy with that crooked smile on your face. things really are starting to get more complicated now.

“ you should want this, “ she chuckles bitterly, ears subtly flattened, “ but not with me, sweetheart. come on, let me go—hm! “

you take jane by surprise by firmly pulling her down by the forearm and she lands on-top of you. you place your hand on the back of her head and pulled her into a clumsy, open-mouthed kiss. teeth clash as you kissed her. your other hand clamps down on the small of her back. you arch your body into her, grinding the ache that’s straining your sweats up against her.

her breath audibly hitches. “ i want you, i never wanted anyone more in my life, “ you confessed, splaying hasty, wet kisses against the corner of her lips, down to her chin and sharp jaw. “ please don’t leave me. “ you beg, voice thin yet filled with honest passion.

jane’s tail replies before she herself does; the thick appendage softly thumping against the firm cushion. her chest bloom with profound infatuation as her heart starts to bleed with warmth. it wouldn’t hurt to escape the underlying loneliness of her disingenuous lifestyle for just one night with you—it wouldn’t hurt to bask in the pleasure of feeling genuinely loved and sought after.

“ i. .won’t. are you sure about this though, baby?” she checks, her nose brushing against the plush flesh of your cheek.

“ y-yes, yes—so please, “ you grasp one of her hands and moved it downward until she’s touching your throbbing cock. you babble, “ touch me, fuck me, i’ll do whatever you want just—“

“ alright, alright. slow down, “ jane chuckles at the needy tone clinging to your strained voice. she applies weight to her palm, rubbing you in broad strokes. you slip out a drawn-out soft moan that cements the infatuated woman’s desire to stay. “ i’ll stay. “ she finishes in a tender whisper. thrilled by her change of decision, you press your lips against hers, again and again and again until her rosy lipstick has faded.

finally, she returns upright again—her hungry gaze striking down on you. “ you really are something else.” jane notes playfully, pulling off her fitted, sleeveless top from over her head. your eyes grow cutely wide as her generous, supple mounds spill and sit prettily on her chest. bright pink, perky nipples gleaming like gems under the soft lights of the living room. her milky skin looks so soft and pristine. your fingers twitch, itching to touch her. she tilts her head, fang-like strands hovering her eyes as she sends you a roguish smile. “ go on. “ she encourages, once again having to take your eager hand and place it on her bare right breast. just as you expected, soft and pliable like clay. when you squeeze, it slightly spills between your fingers like a stress ball. jane draws out a breathy groan and bites at her lip.

sticky pre-cum stains through the cotton fabric of your boxers and sweats. you feel so swollen, it’s starting to hurt.

whining, you retract your hand away, taking quick puffs of air as your frantic fingers pull at the waistband of your bottoms and hurriedly tugged them down to your thighs. your leaking length springs out, nice and tall, surprising jane. you sigh of relief from freedom. the baffled expression on the rat thiren’s face makes you regret giving into your impulse.

“ m’sorry jane, i-it was starting to get uncomfortable. .” you whimpered out, fighting the urge to stroke yourself right in front of her to relieve the ache. she recovers, teal eyes softening apologetically with a twinge of amusement.

“ my poor baby, “ she coos in a smooth drawl, slipping off her gloves and tosses them onto the table. “ ‘should’ve told me so, i would’ve helped you relieved it sooner. now, relax for me. “

jane transitions downward until she’s face to face with your needy cock. she encircles her hand around you, starting the momentum off slow and aimed. “ . .you’re bigger than i thought. “ she mutters under her breath, noting how she can barely fit one hand around you. her hand size is above average than a typical rat thiren.

you try to suppress the small groans as jane pumps you—all the way to the base and back up to your leaking tip. her thumb swipes over the rivulet of pre-cum and skillfully uses it as lube. “ hang in there, sweet thing~ “ she purrs, her sultry voice sweet like candy and smooth like butter, “ i’ll take care of you.”she plants a saccharine kiss against your cockhead. her tongue slips through parted lips and leaves a longg wet stripe up your shaft. your toes curl with trickling pleasure while she butters you up with her elongated tongue. once your cock meets the inside of her hot, humid mouth, you become a whimpering mess.

“ ‘so warm, so good. . “ you moaned, smoothening your face with a shaky hand. her gaze is focused on you, filled with amusement and lust as she sucks at your cockhead and twirls against it with her skillful tongue. she slowly sinks down, taking in heavy inches of your shaft. even when she’s relaxing her jaw, you’re heavy just enough that it’s tensing. a guttural noise bubbles in her chest when the thick head of your cock stretches down the opening of her throat. she deems it enough and moves back up to the top, leaving behind a sheet of her slick saliva. “ f-fuckk. .i. . “ you cursed, propping a forearm over your eyes.

her brows raises with mirth. she managed to get you to curse like that already, huh?

jane does it all over and over again—until you’re completely drunk off her mouth. the slick noises escaping her stuffed mouth while she pleases you sounds so vulgarly satisfying, it’s teetering you closer to sweet release. when she sucks hard at a particular sensitive vein, your hips judder and you utter out a loud, strained whine. “ imightcumimightcum, “ you repeated like a desperate prayer, sucking in quick breaths of air to battle the rapid rise and fall of your chest. the hand that’s not busy stroking what she can’t reach, massages your trembling thigh.

jane ascends to the tip and spoils it with attention with her slick tongue. she flicks at it and drags the thick ball of her tongue along the puffy slit in tight, circular rotations. your cock twitches erratically as you cried, “ c-cumming! “ billowy spurts of cum shoots into her mouth without warning. a stunned noise vibrates in her chest as she struggles to swallow rope after rope of velvety cum. you let out a cacophony of broken cries, rickety hips leaning up into her mouth.

“ pl-please tell me i’m not dreaminggg, “ you slurred, staring up at the ceiling with blurry vision while trying to catch your breath. jane swallows the rest of your load, the slightly salty and bitter taste of your cum marinating in her mouth. she laps up the remainder of your cum with her tongue. by now, her neglected heat is dripping and her panties soaked.

pop!

the rat thiren titters as she pulls away temporarily to undress herself, “ maybe you are, maybe you’re not~ i’ll leave it up to you to figure that out, baby. “

it takes her a minute to undo her black, fitted shorts and the straps to her ripped stockings. you hear her sigh and mutter under her breath, mostly complaining about how inconvenient it is to take off her stockings without ripping them more. your droopy gaze shift away from the ceiling and onto jane who’s now completely naked. your mouth goes dry as you admire her breathtaking figure. she herself looks like a dream you’re lucky to witness—to touch with your own hands. then, your eyes fall to her pussy that’s practically dripping. her transluscent essence trickles down her inner thighs and your mouth almost instantly salivates.

“ j-jane, you’re. .”

and she gives you a knowing smirk, knowing exactly what you’re referring to by the direction of your entranced gaze. her hand travels down to her soaked pussy and with two fingers, she skims them across her folds, smearing her juices. “ all of this is because of you, sweetheart. here, “ she brings the two slick-coated digits to your lips and they part open immediately. “ have a taste. “

your eyes flutter at the addicting taste, a slutty moan releases from the base of your throat. your slimy tongue hungrily licks at jane’s fingers, lapping up the left-over juices. jane finds herself enjoying how needy you are for her—just like a desperate puppy. drool rolls down the right crevice of your lips once the saliva overflows. “ w-wan. .more. .” you groaned after jane removes her digits from your mouth. the thread of spit thins out and dissipates.

“ oh, you do? “ she queries, the modulation of her voice is meant to almost be mocking, feigning ignorance. you bob your head frantically.

“ f-fuck yes. pl–please baby, sit on my face. i-i promise i’ll make you feel good! “ you’d beg hoarsely, your mind is practically hanging onto a thread.

licking her faded peach lips, jane’s cobalt eyes crinkles. “ you already are, no need to promise. but since you’re giving me those puppy eyes, i can’t say no, huh? “

it only took a moment for jane to adjust her whole body and hover her sopping pussy over your face. her thick thighs sunk into the cushion on both sides of your head. you feel yourself growing hard again as you hungrily eye her pink, dewy folds and engorged clit. “ tap me when you need to, got it? i can’t guarantee that i’ll get up though. .just kidding~ “ your colleague teases and you wish that she wasn’t.

after nodding your head, she carefully sits down on your face. the strong, heady scent of her has your mind gladly slipping off the singular thread. you get straight to eating without prior experience, your hands envelop around the plush fat of her thighs. you run your greedy tongue up and down her messy pussy, coating her essence all over your tastebuds. she tastes so heavenly. jane rasps out a moan before biting her lip. “ mm, move your tongue a little lower—yeahh, focus right there, baby. “

you focus your attention on her sopping hole, lapping and slurping up her syrupy juices. smushing your face further into her cunt, your nose graze her pulsating clit. her blessed hips rock back and forth on your tongue, chasing the ever-growing pleasure that’s clouding her rational thought. you drag a sloppy strip back up her folds to suck on her neglected clit. “ haha, you’re a natural. .” jane lets out a strained laugh, kneading her left breast. she rolls her hardened bud between her index and middle finger.

sluurrp! sluuuurp!

you’re soo pussydrunk, nestling your face into her delicious heat, making a mess of yourself. through heavy breathing, you whimpered out, “ i-i’m so in lovee. .” while digging your nails into tender skin.

“ oh y-yeah? “ she smiles roguishly, teeth baring as a sense of pride flows into her. the pointed end of her tail trails down your abdomen and to your groin. it meets with your fresh boner and you melt. she wraps the thin ends of her tail around your cock and slowly strokes you. a sharp gasp retracts from your swollen lips. “ j-janeeee. . “ you utter out, buckling your hips to her strokes. her fingers thread into your hair, curling around (h/c) strands.

she tugs, urging you to continue. “ aht, no. keep using that gifted mouth of yours. “

through quick, quivering breaths, you gloss your tongue all over her cunt, swerving your head side to side. your nose brush against slick, black hairs as you suck on her clit once more. her thighs tremor from each hard suck of her nub. her back arches, head thrown backwards as you stimulate her to the edge. “ d-damn, i-i needed this, baby. . “ jane moans out, pressing her thighs harder against your head. you’re starting to feel light-headed from the limited room of oxygen and the heat of her skin. yet, you still devour her pussy without a care in the world.

“ just like thatt, mmmh, hah. .haha, “ she exerts out a raspy laugh at the obnoxiously loud slurping noises you’re producing from between her legs. “ just like a thirsty puppy th-that’s having its fill. .”

jane rides your face while also fastening the pace of her tail around your cock. beads of sweat roll down her furrowed brow, beautiful features crunching together as the urge to climax accumulates in her body. without a second thought or a thought lack there of, you push your tongue into her sensitive, sopping hole and she squeaks. jane grabs the elbow of the couch for support as she hunches forward, digging her teeth into the tender flesh of her bottom, plump lip.

your tongue swirls inside before thrusting along her gummy walls. she’s close. she’s so so close. despite her hips stuttering, she rolls her hips sloppily. “ ugh, g-gonna cum, take it all for me, yeah? i-it’s only fair after all. “

you grip her thighs tighter, holding her down as a response. with one last prolonged moan and the tight press of her thighs, she cums. globs of thick, syrupy essence pour down on your eager tongue. a throaty whine crawls out of your throat, sending sweet vibration through jane. “ i-i think i might be dreaming too. .” slightly light-headed, she jokes breathily, taking in soft gulps of air. by now, her tail is already unwrapped around you and swaying slowly in the air. you’re still slurping away, cleaning up the candied mess between her thighs.

after jane catches her breath, she slowly removes herself from your face to witness the mess she’s made. the lower half of your face is covered in her cum. there’s something that ignites a candle within her as she eyes that drunken expression you currently have. “ what a mess eater. .my messy eater.” she mutters possessively, positioning herself on top of your body. her fingers softly curl around the left side of your neck while she leans in and laps up her own fluids from your face withy filthy intent. her long, warm tongue wetly swipes up your chin and stops right below your hot cheek.

chuuu.

she plants a damp kiss on your cheek. “ kiss mee. .” you’d slur, slightly turning your head to her, chasing for her sultry lips. jane chuckles, giving you what you want without teasing. your head angles to deepen the kiss and moaned from the bittersweet taste of her cum and your own on her tongue. your hand finds a spot on her bare back and slowly skims down the gentle slope of it. “. . i want you to stay here tonight. “ you mutter against her lips and kissed her again.

“. . .you know i can’t. don’t tell me you’ve forgotten and we haven’t even finished yet. “ she mutters back, stifling back a frown at the thought of having to leave you in an hour or two to prepare herself for the undercover mountain lion gang infiltration in several hours.

“ i-i haven’t. .i just. .— “

“ don’t worry, “ jane interjects, “ i’m sure we’ll see each other soon enough. but. . “ just not like this goes unspoken.

“ b-but what? “

“ let’s make the most of the time we have now, sweetheart. come on, both legs on the couch. “ she instructs gently, and you do so, propping the leg that was once hanging off the bed on the couch. her hand skins down your collarbone before she moves away to align herself with your thick length. she throws you a easy smirk, “ watch closely now. “

squeeelch.

jane slowly sinks down on your cock, her face twisted into a concentrated expression. you watch with lovesick eyes as her pussy greedily swallows all hefty inches of you, bottoming you out. “ oh my god. .” you’d whimper, feeling everything raw —from the heat of her insides, the fluttering of her slick walls, your cockhead brushing against a tender spot. “ i can’t believe th-this is happening. . “

you’re so big. even as a rat thiren who has an impressive ability to adapt to nearly anything, she’s struggling to adjust to your sheer girth and size. you’re stretching her out in every which way. but, she can’t help the thrill rushing into her veins like a dopamine rush. “ i’ll h-have to admit, i can’t believe this is happening either, “ she dips her chest against yours. her weight on top of your body makes you trip over your desperation all over again. her long tail slithers out to the radio and carefully turns it up a few notches. the music plays noticeably louder in the background.

“ but l-like i said, we’ll make the most out of it—of my stay that is. . “ jane finished, gyrating her hips on your eager length. she has stuck you in place with tight circles, leaving you utterly breathless. you throw an arm around her midsection, pressing her more against you to leave no space behind. all you want to feel is her bare skin sliding over yours like the perfect puzzle piece. her sweet, breathy moans fan against your left perky ear. your unsteady hips pump up into her and she’s nearly gasping for air. “ i-i wanna know more about you. .” you begin, kissing at her pierced, rodent ear.

‘can’t quit you, you’re like drugs.

“ i w-want to hold you close just like this whenever i get the chance too. “ you continue, and moaned in sync with the woman of your dreams as you clumsily thrust into her ruined pussy. her hands grip your shoulders, velvet nails digging into your skin to withstand the immense pleasure. your tongue trace the cool metal of one of jane’s ear piercings, her ear twitches. “ i often wonder about your name. i-is it just as memorizing as you are? hngh. . “ you almost choke on your own spit over the firm squeezing of her gummy walls.

‘swear I tried to clean up.

“ wh-where. .hah. .is all of this coming from? “ jane finally asks amongst her trust issues, confusion, and well-hidden doubt. frothy cream pools from her sloshing pussy, causing a ring to form around your member.

‘too much shared between us.

“ . . i-i don’t know but i just don’t w-want to leave you alone. “ you confessed honestly, the three words not developed on your tongue just yet. your other arm wraps around her body, hugging her fully as your rutting hips piston into the fat of her ass. her heart skips one of many beats. the filthy sounds of plap! plap! plap! resonates loudly in your ears. you turn your head, the tip of your nose grazes her flush, milky cheek as you find her lips. jane also turns her head to meet you in a passionate kiss full of tongue and teeth. hot breaths mingle as the desperation between you twists and turns into a endless spiral.

she holds your jaw in place, firmly pressing the pads of her fingers into your jawline. you twitch erratically inside of her, yet you still continue to fuck into her. even when you shoot globs of cum inside of her, you still keep going; not wanting to stop.

‘saved my soul like jesus!

you desperately suck on her tongue, ignoring the exhaustion of your burning thighs one last time and snapped your stuttering hips up off the cushion. jane produces a strangled moan as your fat cockhead smack against her g-spot, emptying yourself into her more. suddenly, jane pull away from the kiss to bury her face into the crook of your neck. thick fluids seep out of the cracks of her stretched hole while her tail is stiffened, signaling her quiet release. she breathes heavily into your neck and you hold her tight in your arms, coming off from your high. the long, faded red piece of her hair runs past your fingers as you comb through them shakily.

you swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking, “ i. .i know we’ve done these operations multiple times now but. .please be safe since you’ve mentioned about this case being severe. hopefully captain calls the squad up for a special meeting about this case soon. “

it takes a prolonged moment for her to respond. she drags a finger along your collarbone. jane feels vulnerable, stripped away from her armor and the only thing she has now is her true feelings—its raw and indescribable. oddly enough, the way you’re holding her close feels like a blanket around her; she feels warmth. “ . . if i knew you were this much of a sweet talker, i wouldn’t have come here for ‘dinner.’ ”jane finally whispers against your skin playfully.

“ what d-does that suppose to be mean? “

she giggles at your flustered voice. “ think about it. but i was only kidding though, sweetheart. “

jane removes her face from your neck to gaze at you with her lidded eyes. her thumb gently brush across your bottom lip as she stares into your eyes, as if to decipher anything that’s hidden behind the colored shades of them. the sharp edges of her gaze softens when she finds nothing but raw devotion. “ you’ll stay for a little longer right? “ you ask hopefully in a weak voice and she sighs before resting her forehead against yours.

“ mhm. it’s not like i can move anyways when you’re holding me tight like this and while you’re. .”

she alludes to you still being inside of her, cockwarming her. your face visibly grows shy and jane laughs. she leans in to kiss you, slow and brief. “ aht aht, don’t be shy, take responsibility~ “ jane purrs, tapping your cheek affectionately.

“ u-umm, i will! i-i promise that i’ll take care of you and our baby and—“

flabbergasted by your misunderstanding, jane was quick to correct you, “ woah, woah. that’s not what i meant. what’s going on in that mind of yours, baby? did i get you dumb just like that? “

it’s cute that you’re willing to take responsibility of that role though.

“ o-oh! sorry, sorry. m-my brain is still in a daze right now. .“

“ figured~ “

you pout and she kisses it right off. after a few long moments of music and silence, the question that’s been floating around in your head now sits on the tip of your tongue.

“ jane? “

she hums, caressing your warm cheek with her thumb as a slow jazz song plays in both of your ears.

“ what are we now? “

her thumb stops, ears subtly flattening, and her gaze shifts somewhere else.

recognizing that look, your heart plummets.

#jane doe x reader #jane doe smut #jane doe x reader zzz #zzz smut #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero x reader

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megamindsecretlair · 2 days ago

Note

Hiii girl! Can I make a request for a prequel to I swear I’ll never leave? Something super angsty on how y/n and Terry got to that point in the first place🤍

I Still Don't Want You To Go

Pairing: Toxic Baby Daddy!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. ANGST, cursing, teasing, mentions of loneliness, depression, brief mention of harm against a child, bad ass child, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, my mom is distracting me.

Summary: A prequel to “I Swear I’ll Never Leave”. Four months ago, things came to a head for you, the loneliness getting too loud for you to ignore. You wanted your husband home, safe and sound with you. As you reminisce about the good times, it’s the bad times you can’t get over. And though your timing sucks, you have to finally tell Terry what’s really on your heart.

Word Count: 7,801k

AO3 Link | I Swear I'll Never Leave

A/N: WHEW. When I say this hurt MEEE. I'm exposing myself like a MF LOL. I see you sneaky anon, a prequel request. I'd love to know your thoughts on the angst, I wanna get better at it. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Six years ago…

“Lovely Day” by Bill Withers crooned from your portable speaker on the marble countertop. The smell of meatloaf and mashed potatoes filled the kitchen, steam rising from the pot on the stove. You were working on the gravy, tasting as you went. Cadence kicked in your belly and you stopped to place a hand there.

“Alright babygirl, we almost there. You are so impatient already,” you said to her, rubbing your belly. You had a few months left to go but she was already kicking to get out. You’d have to put her in track or soccer or something. She’d run you ragged if you weren’t careful.

“How’s my two favorite girls?” Terry entered the room, following the scent of food.

You giggled. “You always know when the food is done!” You shrieked with laughter as Terry encircled your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He placed his hands on either side of your protruding belly.

“Can’t help it when I smell a snack,” he said, kissing your cheek.

You sighed at his corny joke but giggled anyway. “You get on my nerves,” you said with a shake of your head. This man of yours.

“I love you too. Time to eat?” He asked.

You craned your neck to look over your shoulder at him. He grinned, catching your eye, and then kissed your cheek once more. “You can’t be that hungry,” you said.

“For your famous meatloaf? Hell yeah, I’m that hungry,” he said. He swayed with you to the music and you closed your eyes, taking it all in.

“Didn’t you just eat like…?”

“That was my pre-dinner food. This is dinner. I got room,” he said.

You shook your head. Thank goodness you weren’t having a boy. You didn’t know what the hell you would do if you had two of them running around, eating you out of house and home. You were barely keeping up with Terry and his voracious appetite when he was home.

“You can’t possibly eat like this on base,” you said.

“I can pack away some food. But hmm, ain’t nothing better than being home,” he said.

“I worry about you. Help me with the meatloaf please,” you said.

“I need a kiss first,” he said.

You sighed and craned your neck to kiss his cheek. He shook his head, releasing you long enough to turn you around.

“A real kiss,” he said, suddenly turning serious. He furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned down, capturing your lips with his.

It felt like he was trying to tell you something with the kiss, but you weren’t sure what. He held onto you, gripping your waist as if you were the lone anchor and he had been out at sea for weeks.

You leaned back and looked at him. “Terry? Everything okay?”

&&&

Four months ago…

“Everything okay?” Terry asked.

“Huh?” You turned your attention back to him. Cadence fidgeted in your lap. You sighed and righted her once more so that she could look at the screen at her daddy. He was on base and you were talking to him on video chat, trying to make it a nightly thing for Cadence’s sake, but it was getting tougher.

She had sunk into her terrible six’s, getting impatient the minute she didn’t get her way. You blamed Terry of course. Spoiling the damn child and making it seem like you were the bad parent, always saying no and doing nothing fun.

“I’m just tired, Terry,” you sighed. You smiled, despite it all, but even that was getting exhausting. You were cranky, irritable, and at your wit’s fucking end.

Terry’s eyebrows furrowed but he took you at your word. Cadence flopped in your arm like she was over the whole thing. You corrected her again, holding down her arms and legs so she’d sit still.

She began to whine, paying attention to anything but her daddy. “When are you coming home?” Cadence asked, suddenly switching gears and leaning far into the camera.

“I’m not sure yet, baby. But I hope it’s soon,” he said.

“Will you be here for Mustard’s birthday?” She asked. Mustard, being her imaginary friend. She babbled endlessly to the mysterious Mustard who was usually to blame when Cadence acted out.

“I don’t know if I can, baby,” he said.

Cadence groaned, flopping into your arms once more. Ugh. You finally picked her up and set her down. She began to cry, trying to climb back onto you. “Aht aht, you’re acting out because your Daddy isn’t here. And you know better,” you said.

Cadence cried harder, fighting to get back in your lap. You looked at Terry. “I’ll call you back,” you said. You slammed the laptop shut without even hearing his reply. You were tired and fucking over it.

Cadence turned her cries into a full blown temper tantrum, stomping her feet and jumping up and down. You stared at the little devil and for a split second, just a split, you pictured tossing her ass out through the window. Fuck. That was an evil thought.

“Cadence. You have three seconds to stop and use your words. Acting like a damn barn animal,” you said, sucking your teeth.

Cadence continued to cry and stomp, falling onto the floor and screaming at the top of her lungs. You stared at her. At your wild, beautiful, terror of a daughter. You couldn’t scream. Screaming would only feed into whatever this fucking phase was. Screaming would turn you into your own mother, who forced you into a box when you were younger. Only to be seen and never heard.

You didn’t have the greatest relationship with your mother. You wanted a mom and she raised you to be the mother she never had. She thought you were the best of friends when you just wanted to escape. Be free from her constant judgement and disappointment.

You stared at your child as she screamed bloody murder and you didn’t know what to do. Terry didn’t have much family that you could turn to. There was Mike, but Mike was young. Mike didn’t need the responsibility of looking after his niece like that. He should be out and enjoying being young and free. There was your best friend Gianna, but she had her own life to live.

Cadence’s wails were like nails on chalkboard, making your brain itch in places you couldn’t reach. Great, heaving sobs trapped in your chest and you held it in. Held in the anger. Held in the frustration. You were a bad fucking mother and you didn’t know how to fix this. The only one who could was a few states away, off on base doing who knew what.

You stared. You hurt. You stared. She cried.

Cadence flopped on the floor, crocodile tears streaming down her face. “Cadence, off the floor. Now,” you said as calmly, voice ready to wobble but you kept on a brave face.

Cadence ignored you, flipped onto her stomach, and then kicked at the floor in her footie pajamas. You stared. And stared. You felt absolutely drained. Like there was nothing left inside of you to keep going. Keep moving. Keep doing this shit day in and day out.

But she was yours. You would not abandon her. She may grow up to hate your guts, never speak to you again like you barely did with your own mother, but dammit, you weren’t going to yell and scream at a child who didn’t truly understand the world yet.

You left Cadence on the ground to scream and yell while you went to your room to collect laundry. Let her fucking yell and scream. Maybe it’d tire her little behind out.

You grabbed the laundry basket from your room, picking up wayward clothes that needed to be washed. The famous chair was overfilled with clothes and Terry’s robe. An ache formed behind your eye, growing worse the more Cadence screamed. Cadence jogged into the room, rubbing the back of her eyes with her hand.

She continued to cry and scream and you turned to her. She looked at you and sat on the ground, snot running down her face. “Are you ready to use your words?” You asked.

She shook her head. “Then you sit there until you are,” you said. You scooted past her to her room to collect her dirty clothes. She followed you, continuing to cry her eyes out.

“So now you don’t listen to Mommy?” You asked.

Her cries turned to sniffling and hiccuping. She finally caught on that you weren’t going to feed into her nonsense. “No,” she hiccuped.

“No? You don’t listen to Mommy?” You asked.

“I do listen!” She yelled.

You tilted your head and gave her The Look. She rubbed her eyes with her hand and then walked closer, putting her head on your leg. “Where’s Daddy?” She asked.

“Daddy’s at work. You know that,” you said. You placed the basket on her pink princess bed and then dropped down to her level. You grabbed one of her hands and helped wipe her face.

“I didn’t raise you to act out. You have a voice and you have to learn to use it,” you said, tears threatening to spill down your face. How could you make her see how important it was to use her words? To use what so many people took for granted?

She was still too young to understand the nuances of being Black and a little girl. Your mother silenced your voice when you were younger. Placing the burden of being alive on you and not on her for not swallowing you instead of giving birth. You didn’t want that for Cadence. Didn’t want her to grow up, mincing her words, swallowing it all down, chest caving in whenever there was confrontation.

You wanted her to be strong. Full of life. Everything you weren’t. You blinked away the hot, itchy tears and smiled at her.

“I miss Daddy,” she said. “I don’t want to see him on the ‘puter.”

You sighed. You figured as much. But there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. He had a good job providing for you and Cadence. Maybe it would’ve been easier if he was a deadbeat. It would be easier to ignore the growing ache in your heart, missing him at home with you and Cadence.

“I miss Daddy too. But you can’t throw a tantrum whenever you don’t get your way. That’s not how young ladies act. And your Daddy would be very hurt to know you’re acting up,” you said.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she said. She hugged you and you hugged her back. God, you needed this shit to end. This constant need to cry or yell or scream yourself. You weren’t a child anymore. You didn’t have the luxury of flopping on the floor whenever you were overwhelmed.

“Thank you, baby. Go wash your face and get ready for bed,” you said. You released her and then popped her on the butt to get a move on. She giggled, jogging out of the room and headed to the bathroom.

“With soap!” You called out. Cadence giggled like that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. You shook your head and continued grabbing her dirty clothes off the floor. You seriously had to teach that little girl to pick up after herself better. It was like once Terry was out of the house, she lost all pieces of her marbles.

You could relate. You distracted yourself with picking up her toys, crayons, and coloring books off of the floor and back into its proper places. You grabbed the laundry basket and left her room.

“Daddy says he may not make your birthday, Mustard. But that’s okay! We’ll take sooooooooo many pictures for him!” Cadence chattered on and on to her little friend.

You shouldn’t be…worried, right? Your daughter had friends but she only saw them at school. The other parents constantly asked you about playdates but you had so much to do between your own work, the house, and getting Cadence together, that you didn’t have it in you to take her for playdates.

You didn’t trust her with anyone else and you didn’t have time to sit and hang out with the mommies while they all gushed about their husbands. Gahh. The whole thing made you sick. They always managed to feel sorry for you. But always thanked your husband for his service.

Whatever. Fuck the service. Fuck the government. Fuck America and its bullshit. You wanted your husband at home. You wanted to crawl into bed and have him wrap his arms around you. If you knew that you’d be this damn lonely in marriage, you would have saved yourself the hassle.

You loved Cadence with everything in you. But it was never in your plans to raise her with no help. And it wasn’t fair on Terry. He was doing what he needed to do. But…you were tired of feeling like the bad guy when all you wanted was someone to hold you at night.

You finished up gathering today’s laundry and placed it in the laundry room. You tucked Cadence and Mustard into her bed, sitting down to read her a story while she drifted off to sleep.

You had a pounding headache from all her screaming and the unshed tears. But you sat for a while longer and prayed over your baby. Prayed she never ended up like you. Prayed she knew nothing but joy and love and how to reach out to people.

You were half alone, with one friend, and no family to help you. It was you, Terry, Gianna, Mike, and Cadence against the world. What a fucking family you all made.

You stood up and left the room and turned off the light. You left her door cracked and then made your way through the house, turning off lights, and running through a mental checklist of everything you had left to do tomorrow.

Making it to your room, you closed the door and flopped onto your cold, lifeless bed with a heavy sigh. You pulled the nearest pillow towards you and snuggled into it. Fuck. And you had to wake up and do it all over again.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Tears immediately welled in your eyes like it had just been waiting for you to be alone. You let the tears fall. Let your face get hot and puffy as you curled into a ball and cried. Your sniffling was muffled by the pillow.

You let it all out. The frustration from not being good enough for Cadence. The guilt over your disgusting thoughts about harming her. The loneliness from not having your husband there, beside you. Call you a weak ass bitch or whatever, but you just wanted your man home.

You cried over stupid shit, like spilling your coffee at work. Washing everything in the laundry but finding that one random sock that managed to miss the load. Watching Cadence play with Mustard and seeing Terry written all over her face. You curled into yourself harder and cried and cried, letting every last bit of it out.

You didn’t have enough strength when it was all over to clean your own face. So you flipped the pillow to a clean side and promptly went to sleep.

&&&

Six years ago…

You paced the length of the hallway in the hospital, trying to breathe through the pain. For all of Cadence’s kicks and tumbling, she sure as shit didn’t want to come out now. Your mother walked with you up and down the hallway, trying to tell you how to birth a child.

You held back whatever you wanted to say and rubbed your lower back. Fuuuuuck, this shit was painful. You were never doing this again. Fuck this. How did people have multiple kids? How did they birth a basketball team like it was nothing?

It felt like your insides were being scooped out with a rusty spoon. You stopped and leaned on the wall nearest you. “It’s gon’ be okay. Your body knows what to do,” your mom said.

You wanted to tell her to fuck off. So what if your body knew what to do? You didn’t. This was your first child and it was looking to be your only child. You couldn’t do this shit no more. And you sure as shit didn’t want to do it without Terry there.

Going through the last few months without him was bullshit. No one there to rub your feet or run errands when you were craving something stupid like ice cream and gummy worms. No one there to hold your hand when your panic over being a bad mom got too loud, too close to home, and you were spiraling.

But…you did it. You got through it. You could continue on. “Terry really ought to be here for this. I can’t believe he’s gonna miss the birth of his own child,” your mom complained.

“It’s not like he has a choice, mom,” you said, careful to watch your tone. Your mom never missed an opportunity to remind you that she was older and could still pop you in the mouth for being disrespectful.

“Don’t they have leave or something?” Your mom continued.

Can’t you fucking leave? You wanted to scream at her. You’d rather do this shit alone if all she was going to do was remind you that your husband would not be there. Would not be there to hear your child’s first cries.

You had planned and gushed over your baby together. You had theories on top of theories of who she’d favor more, what kind of personality she would develop, and what kind of life she would lead. He should be here.

Tears pricked your eyes but you beat them back. You had a job to do and it involved seeing this baby safely delivered. “I’m tired, mom,” you said.

“I know, baby. One more lap and then we’ll go sit for a minute,” she said. She grabbed your hand and your eyes ached from trying to hold back the tears. Sometimes your mom showed a bit of affection and like a kicked dog, you soaked it up. You reveled in the simple gesture, knowing that at any moment, her claws would come back out.

Squeaking tile made you turn your head. Terry leaned forward, the inertia from running making him rock on his heels. You locked eyes with him.

“Terry!” You yelled.

Terry power walked down the hallway dressed in his fatigues. He was clean shaven since he was on base and he looked so damn scrumptious you wanted to gobble him up then and there. He smiled as he approached, carefully taking your hand out of your mother’s.

“I knew you’d find a way to make it,” your mom said, patting Terry on the shoulder. “Otherwise I’d have talked shit.”

“Mom!” You said.

Terry chuckled. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Terry said. He grinned as he cupped your face. “How you feeling?”

“Better, now that you’re here,” you said.

Terry kissed your forehead and then grabbed your hand. With him by your side, it wasn’t so bad. You could get through it. You could do this. Still hurt like a motherfucker. Wait…You wailed as you held your stomach, feeling a contraction come on and ruin everything.

You gripped Terry’s hand with all the strength you could muster as you rode out the pain. You huffed and puffed as you calmed down from the intensity. You turned a side eye to Terry. “You’re never doing this to me again,” you said, your voice rough from wailing.

Terry had the good sense not to look dumb. He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. “Had fun making her though,” he said with a wink.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Nasty ass. Just like a man to enjoy all the benefits with none of the work,” you said.

Terry guided you back to your room. He walked slowly with you though his long legs could cover the distance in two seconds. “I wouldn’t say none of the work. I seem to recall you loudly begging –”

“Begging?!”

“Beggin’ me not to stop,” Terry said.

You chuckled and winced as it disrupted whatever the fuck Cadence was doing in your belly. Lord, you needed this child out neow.

Terry stayed with you every step of the way. He held your hand when you needed it and got lost when you cursed him ten ways from Sunday. He was there to make sure the doctors and nurses gave you what you needed, ensuring that your voice was heard and your concerns were met.

And when little Cadence Richmond came screaming into the world, Terry was right there grinning and laughing and kissing your forehead. “She’s fuckin’ beautiful. She’s so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against your temple. “You did so good, beautiful.”

&&&

“I can’t do this anymore, G,” you said, picking at the grass in your backyard.

Cadence jogged around the backyard with Mustard, running back and forth and screaming with laughter. That girl had a set of pipes. But it was a happy scream and you’d take that over anything else.

Your best friend, Gianna, flipped her locs over her shoulder and leaned back on her hands. “Do what?” She asked.

“Spend my life waiting for a man that don’t wanna come home,” you said. You looked down at the blade of grass and let the melancholy thoughts run wild. You knew your brain was a big, fat, ugly liar but sometimes that motherfucker made sense.

Terry went into the service to take care of you and Cadence when you were still two kids who didn’t know better. Now that Cadence was six, what was Terry doing? Why continue to stay on base?

The only logical answer was that he didn’t want to come home. He didn’t want to be here to help you. After years of practically living apart, the weight of your decisions made your head heavy.

What would’ve happened if you had joined him on base? Once it was proven that he wasn’t going to hop from state to state, or country to country, you could have joined him. But the thought of being a “military wife” tasted like sand in your mouth. You didn’t want to trade in a normal life for whatever the hell that was. You didn’t want Cadence to grow up coddled from the world.

No one was going to protect her because the world didn’t protect little Black girls. You didn’t want her to grow up with rose-colored glasses, thinking the world began and ended at the base. You wanted her strong but soft. Capable of taking care of herself but not hiding behind a steel wall all the time.

“Girl, you know that man loves you and Cadence. Have you talked to him at all?” Gianna asked. She shielded her eyes from the sun to look at Cadence doing cartwheels.

“Every time I try to, I get so choked up I can’t speak. And I don’t want him to see how much I’m struggling,” you said.

“He’s your husband. He’s supposed to see your struggle,” Gianna said. She leaned forward and looked at you. You felt her assessing gaze as if she was trying to see past your words. But there was nothing to see past.

Day by day, it became clearer that you no longer spoke the same language as your husband. He became a stranger before your eyes and you hadn’t noticed. Or had you not cared? You loved him still. You were very much still in love with him. But you weren’t going to hold him back.

The next time Terry came home, you were going to talk to him. Truly talk. And let him know that you weren’t going to hold him to a marriage he didn’t want to be in. Just thinking it turned your stomach sour. You didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want some other woman to get her claws in him. Didn’t want to “co-parent” with some chicken head with fake boobs.

You sure as shit didn’t want to see him kissing all over some other woman. Or have him create more children with someone else. But what was the alternative? Spend the rest of your life in a state of limbo. Longingly looking down the quiet street for a car that was never going to pull up?

The whole thing made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t know what you were going to do. But you knew this was your rock bottom. You couldn’t stand it another second.

“The other day, Cadence showed her entire ass screaming and all I could think was, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t half parent her. Not when he hangs the moon and I’m the monster under her bed,” you said.

“Where is this coming from? Why didn’t you call me?” Gianna took your hand in hers and shifted towards you.

“I thought I could handle it, is all,” you said and shrugged. Cadence was your child. Why should you pass the buck to someone else just to get a break? A break from your own child. That was your mom’s MO. She had to distract you in order for you to leave her alone. And now you were doing the same thing to your kid.

You were a mess and you were drowning. You were so far underwater there was no more light above you. And your light was a few states away toiling away at a job he loved more than you.

“Mommy! Auntie Gigi, loooook!” Cadence said, trying to turn a cartwheel into a flip but only flopped onto her butt.

“You be careful out there, little girl! But great job!” You said.

She got up and dusted herself off, nodding to herself. Then she kept practicing, falling over and over. But she kept getting up. You hoped she continued as she got older.

“You better talk to that man, you know he not gon’ like this,” Gianna said.

You squeezed her hand. Yeah. Yeah, that was putting it nicely.

&&&

Three years ago…

You sat down on the brown couch with a deep sigh. Terry chuckled and hummed tiredly, reaching his arm down from over the couch to pull you closer.

“You sound how I feel,” he said. Light from the TV splayed across his handsome face, a mix of colors dancing across his features. It was too dark in the living room to see his storm-blue eyes but you saw enough.

“That girl, I swear. I don’t know what kinda DNA you got swimming, but that is your child,” you said. You shifted until you were tucked protectively under his arm and against his chest. His heart thumped against your cheek and you closed your eyes briefly. Still your favorite song in the whole world.

“Nah, anything after seven is your baby. You never go to sleep on time,” he said.

“Yes, I do. Sometimes,” you said.

“What time you go to bed last night?” He asked. His thumb traced lazy patterns on your shoulder. The sound was muted on the TV but you looked at the picture. He was in the middle of some old movie from the 60s.

“That is beside the point,” you said, remembering that you didn’t go to bed until 2am. The night just made more sense to you to be awake. Day time was a burden and a half.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “I can’t believe we got her down. When is she going to grow out of her terrible fours?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I thought we were tiring her out. That wasn’t even her final form,” you said and groaned.

“I have a crazy thought,” he said.

“Mhm, what’s that?” You asked.

“What if we had another?” He asked.

You leaned away from him to look him in the face. He looked back at you with no change in his expression. He was serious. Like really serious. You leaned up further and faced him. “After today, you want another one?” You asked.

Cadence had been more than a handful lately. Since her Daddy came home, she had run him ragged taking up all his free time. She wanted to play princess or go for a horseback ride. She wanted to run around the backyard with him and push her stuffed teddies on the small swing set he built for her.

She wanted to lay down with him for her nap and yes, he had to climb under the Bluey blanket with her whether he fit or not. You did snap a thousand pictures and giggled to yourself while you got to some household chores.

After the nap, he had to watch TV with her. And he had to play dolls while he did so, non-negotiable. Then, for no reason at all, she ripped off her clothes and went streaking through the house. You two nearly gave up trying to chase her around.

Terry finally managed it and gave her a bath while you finally went to lay down. Goodness knew you needed it. Terry indulged in every little whim of Cadence’s and you told him often that he was doing nothing but spoiling her rotten.

“I know, but I can’t help it. She got me wrapped around her tiny finger. I miss so much,” he had said when you told him.

And now he wanted another?

“Yeah, before she gets too big. She could use a buddy. Our family is so small,” he said. His smooth voice trailed off, getting lost in thought as he stared at the TV. You wondered if he was even seeing it. Or if he was lost in a thought or a memory.

You cupped his cheek and caressed it with your thumb. “But are you sure?” You asked. Unlike Terry, you remembered what it was like trying to carry the child alone. You had no choice but to endure and handle it if Terry was gone during this pregnancy too. But sometimes, you got the sinking feeling that he was always looking for a way out and he just didn’t know how to tell you.

“You and Cadence mean absolutely everything to me. Yes, I’m sure,” he said. He smirked and bumped your shoulder.

“Remember all the fun we had making Cadence?” He pulled you closer and nuzzled your cheek with his nose. You held firm, refusing to give in to his charms. You were not going down that easy. You refused. Absolutely refused.

“I must’ve turned your little world. You stay bringing that up,” you said, pushing him away.

Terry held firm, moving his nose down to your neck and inhaling. He hummed, low and deep in his chest causing it to rumble. The sound carried up and down your spine, sending electric shocks through your brain. “Been waiting for you to do that shit again,” he said.

You giggled and leaned away. He followed and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Lemme give you a baby,” he said.

You laughed and shook your head. “You are out of your mind,” you said.

“You know you wanna be swollen with my baby again,” he said. He moved his hand to your shirt and searched beneath it, rubbing his fingers along your skin. You sighed with a moan, shifting your body closer. He was a cheating ass nigga.

“You get on my nerves,” you said. You feebly pushed at his chest but he was a mountain. Too immoveable. He grinned against your neck and then kissed it, his lingering lips sending pulses of heat straight to your pussy.

“You just wanna cum all up in this again. Admit it,” you said, giggling.

“I admit it. I confess. I am guilty,” he whispered against your neck.

You managed to giggle and moan at the same time, your brain in full on mush mode. There was nothing but the feeling of his hands on your tummy. He didn’t venture anywhere else, just ran the rough pads of his fingers against your skin.

It was more than enough. You pushed into him, needing more but not willing to say it. You couldn’t utter a single sound so you talked with your body. The only language you and Terry spoke well.

“Use your big girl words,” he said.

“You get on my nerves!” You said.

Terry smiled against your skin. “I love you too,” he said.

&&&

Four months ago…

“DADDDDDYYYYYYYY!” Cadence’s scream was loud enough to wake the dead ten towns over. As soon as Terry stomped into the house, light shining behind him, Cadence was on him like white on rice.

She launched herself into his arms and he had to kneel or get ran over. He scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tight. “How’s my babygirl?” He asked. He kissed her head and leaned back to look at her face.

His eyes softened as she talked a mile a minute, telling him every thought that came out of her head. Terry fixed her purple flowered shirt while she spoke. He nodded and asked her questions as he set his duffel bag down and closed the door behind him.

You stood off to the side, feeling like a sack of meat for all the enthusiasm Cadence showed you. You shouldn’t be jealous and well…no one said you had to be rational all of the time.

You stood rooted to the spot, knowing that whatever came next was going to hurt. It was going to break you. And yet it would shatter you if you didn’t.

Terry kept throwing glances your way like he knew something was up but couldn’t pinpoint what. He squinted at you and still paid attention to Cadence’s stream of consciousness.

“And then Mustard said that I was a booger, but that’s not true because boogers are green and I’m not green,” Cadence said.

“You tell Mustard to be nicer to you,” Terry said. He walked over to you and dropped a kiss to your forehead. His large palm cupped the back of your neck and he held his lips to your head. You closed your eyes and breathed in his uniquely manly scent.

“Welcome home,” you whispered. You leaned back and looked at him. He tilted his head and massaged the back of your neck. Your shoulders drooped as he rubbed, all ounces of tension leaving your body.

Why couldn’t he make this easier? It was just like your stupid heart to plum forget the past few months he was on base. You never could stand on business. Not with your mom and not with Terry. It was a curse, it truly was.

You and Terry fell into an unspoken truce while Cadence soaked up having her Daddy home. You spent most of the time in the living room, talking, laughing, and telling Terry about everything he missed. Everything you didn’t get to discuss over the computer.

Terry had to know something was up. He kept reaching out to you but you found ways to dodge or get up to do something. You weren’t trying to be a bitch. But you didn’t want to fall into his arms if he was only going to hate you later.

It’d be easier to stomach his hate and anger if you didn’t have his lingering touch on your skin. So you continued to move and fawn and shake him off anyway you could.

Cadence had to have Terry read her the bedtime story, not asking for you once. Not throwing a tantrum once. Not even a sniffle. Little booger.

You made some tea in the kitchen while Terry stayed with Cadence until she truly fell asleep. If she sensed Terry moving a muscle, she’d wake up groggily and ask for him. You waited at the dining table with a steaming mug of tea nestled between your palms but you swore you felt none of the heat.

Terry shuffled into the kitchen and sighed as he sat down in the chair. He looked so ragged. But beautiful as always. Loving Terry was like loving a precious jewel. It hurt to look at but it hurt worse to look away.

He leaned one arm on the table and leveled you with a stare. “What’s up with you?” He asked.

You took a deep breath and stared at your mug. “I have to talk to you about something important. And I didn’t want to get in the way of Cadence seeing you,” you said.

“What’s going on? Just tell me,” he said.

“I don’t want to be a single mother anymore,” you said. You held up your hand as Terry pitched forward, confusion twisting his features. “You’re an amazing father, Terry. But…I want my husband home. And I won’t make you choose between the Corps and me.”

“That’s not even a choice,” he said. You held up your hand again before he could continue to argue. Yes, it was a choice. He clearly loved what he did. And you knew he loved Cadence. But you were feeling pretty fucking unloved. You knew it wasn’t intentional on his part. You knew that if you just told him what’s up, he’d do everything in his power to make it up to you.

But you were terrified that he’d wake up one day and resent you for making him quit while he was ahead. You wouldn’t survive that.

“This isn’t something new for me. And I know it feels out of left field, but I think I’ve been feeling like this since we had Cadence. I kept waiting for you to say enough is enough and you’d resign from the service and come home. I kept waiting for you to make that decision but you never did. You kept going and going and going.”

“I did it for us. So that you and Cadence were taken care of,” he said.

“I know. Baby, I know,” you said. You gripped the mug hard enough to break it. The heat singed your palms but you let it. Your heart thumped too fast, stealing your breath. You vibrated with nervous energy, stomach twisting into painful knots.

You hated that confrontation made it seem like your insides wanted to crawl out of your skin. You hated the sinking feeling that you were hurting someone even though you were hurting too. You hated that your voice shook and tears threatened to fall.

“But you’re not here all the time. You don’t see that Cadence can be a fucking nightmare sometimes and it’s just me. I never thought it’d be just me when I had a family. I thought I’d have my husband with me. And I’m tired of feeling like a weak ass bitch for wanting that.

“And I get lonely. And sad. And tired. And I keep thinking that you’re not here. You’re off taking care of us and how can I be mad at you for that? But I am. I can’t stand it. I’m at my fucking limit, Terry, and I can’t keep going back and forth between hoping you came home and thinking it’d be easier if you didn’t.

“I won’t make you choose. Because I love you too fucking much,” you said. The tears came anyway, streaming down your face. Ugh. Now you were crying and he’d think you were manipulating him. It was the last thing you wanted him to think.

“You love me but you’re trying to leave me? This is fucking insane,” he said. He pushed away from the table and you nodded, looking back down at your mug. It was insane. You were definitely insane.

He paced the length of the kitchen, hands on his hips as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ unreal.”

You rubbed your head. “I can’t be stuck in limbo anymore. If I knew where I stood with you, I could move accordingly. But I’m not that strong. I am exhausted fighting my brain and my heart all the time,” you said.

“And what about what I want? What if I don’t want to let you go?” He asked. His voice strained and your heart ached for him. This was so fucking painful, like shards of glass embedded into every beat of your heart.

“I’m not happy. And I’m not trying to hurt you, it’s not you in particular that made me unhappy. I just am. I’m constantly feeling like a bad mother. I’m constantly feeling like a failed wife. Because why else aren’t you home? Why aren’t you here with me?” You sobbed harder, silently, tears falling in scalding streaks down your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” He asked. His voice rose and your tears only fell harder. You were just a failure of a person, not able to make your child happy. Your husband happy. Yourself happy.

“I didn’t want to make you choose,” you said.

“You keep saying that as if I wouldn’t choose you every time!” His voice rose higher, practically yelling at you and you swiped at your face. You hated crying. Pressure built in your face and made everything gross and full of snot.

Terry lifted fists to his face and knocked his forehead. “I knew something was up with you. I knew it and I just couldn’t name it. This is my fault, I know that,” he said.

“It’s not! You’re a good father,” you said.

“But a terrible husband?” He asked.

“I didn’t say that!” You said.

Terry paced the kitchen some more, rubbing furiously at his face. If he had his facial hair, he’d probably tug at it. “I thought you wanted me away. I thought…you hated having me here. It seemed like you never wanted to talk over the phone anymore or you barely looked at me on chat. I should’ve known that was my clue to check back in,” he said.

“Will you please stop saying it’s your fault? I’m in this relationship too and I haven’t been the best wife,” you said. You knew that you could have done better. Could have talked more openly. Told hm you were struggling over the years but you didn’t want him to feel guilty while he was at work. He was providing for you after all. And you thought you could be happy with that. But you weren’t. You were a basic simp. You wanted your husband. And you’d rather beg on the street with him than live in luxury without him.

“How could you say that? You’re an amazing wife. It’s my job to make sure that’s not a doubt in your mind,” he said.

You groaned. “M-Maybe we just need to cool off,” you said.

“No, no, we can fix this. Don’t shut me out!” He said.

“I can’t help it!” You yelled.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know!” You swiped angrily at your tears. “Because I’m broken? Because I’m a horrible person? I don’t know! I don’t know how to be happy. I don’t know how to let things go. I don’t know how to live and let live. My brain is fucking mean and every time we get off the phone, I start worrying that I’m bugging you? Holding you back? Am I selfish for wanting you at the cost of my happiness? Is that self love or destruction? I can’t fucking tell anymore, Terry, and it scares the hell out of me.”

You stood up and turned away from him, looking down at your left hand. You looked at the simple band he got when he first proposed. He promised to replace it as soon as you had two nickels to rub together but you told him not to bother. The band was to deter other men from talking crazy to what belonged to him. You just wanted him.

You never took it off. Never. It was practically glued to your finger. But you turned around and slipped it off.

Terry stood up and backed away. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he seethed.

His eyes were a raging storm, swirling with mixed emotions. His shapely eyebrows were curved downward, nostrils flaring. If you waved a red flag, he would surely charge you.

“I know I’ve been a shit husband. I…used the military as an excuse. That maybe we just worked better apart. But all I’ve been doing is hurting us both. Creating this distance between us. I want nothing more than to come home to you and Cadence. I’m on leave. We can talk this out,” he said.

“All you’re going to do is convince me that things will change. And the next time you go back to work, we’re back to the same shit. What kind of life is that?”

“I’ll put in my papers tomorrow. I’ll get a local job,” he said.

“And what will you say when you wake up years from now resenting me?” You asked.

“What the fuck is it going to take for you to believe me?” He asked.

You sighed. “I don’t know,” you said. You looked down at your feet. What would convince you? You weren’t sure. You didn’t want Terry to jump through hoops to prove that he was still the man you were in love with.

You lifted your gaze to him just in time to see him swipe at a lone tear halfway down his cheek. He stepped closer and you tensed, waiting for him to explode. To yell or scream or call you out of your name. But your husband would never.

Instead, he paused just beside you, facing forward. He didn’t move to touch you. Didn’t press for more contact than what you were willing to give at the moment. You felt fragile. Raw. Like you could collapse at any moment.

“Don’t you ever take that ring off your finger. I’m not done fighting for us. And until you figure out what it will take, I’m not letting you go. I swear to you I’ll never leave you and Cadence. Both of you are my reason for living and if it takes my last breath, we’ll be a family again. I’ll stay at Mike’s for a while, but I’ll be back in the morning to tell Cadence myself,” he said.

He walked out of the kitchen and like the coward you were, you let him. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut. Because this was true agony. This was a hell of your own making and you still weren’t sure what the fuck was wrong with you.

Maybe you truly were that broken.

The end, end.

WHEW. I'm sorry, my loves. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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wisecura · 2 days ago

Text

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1 ⁭ ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.2

AN: this is still being edited and I'm not entirely sure if it'll be everyone's cup of tea. it'll be a slow burn, and a long fic but I have an idea laid out! each chapter will be around 3k just to keep things spaced and easy. Thank you for reading!

warnings: i'm putting these here for future chapters too, and ill sprinkle some in as I go. I want to make it clear, there is no underage sex, but later on there will be some more raunchy shit. this is somewhat non-canon compliant-make it up as I go

-ok for the real warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build. I'm already 20,000 words into this shit so if your ready lets ride.

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside his moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

Lets Begin

Your arranged marriage with Toji Fushiguro had been quick and unexpected.

The black sheep of the Zenin clan wasn’t exactly known for his well-rounded reputation, teetering on the edge of severing all ties to his family. He hadn’t been in contact with them for years, and financial support from their end was nonexistent. He was constantly broke, especially after Megumi was born. He assumed it was retaliation for marrying outside the clan—without their approval. But when his late wife passed, he had already taken on her surname, somewhat severing himself from the dingy clan he had once called "family."

After her death, he picked up side gigs, earning just enough to provide for the two of them. Megumi was older now, around thirteen, which made it easier to leave him alone for longer periods. Toji often took days-long "business" trips. He’ll admit he wasn’t a great father, but he had kept his promise of keeping Megumi away from the Zenin clan and that sorcerer bullshit.

That was until he received an official notification from the Zenin clan head.

He hadn’t heard from the bastard in years, only to be met with a request—a demand—for his compliance in an arranged marriage. Initially, he planned to refuse. He wasn’t interested in an arranged marriage, wanted nothing to do with the sorcerer world, and even less to do with the Zenin clan. Hell, the only reason he bothered showing up at the clan house that day was to set that fucker straight.

Then he saw you—a pretty little thing. You couldn’t have been more than ten years younger than him, likely just turning seventeen, maybe eighteen. He couldn’t say for sure. But you were just too young for this shit—he knew that much.

They’d already brought you along for the proposal, as if they knew it would change his mind when he saw you. And, fuck, if they weren’t right.

You were beautiful. Polished and respectable, speaking in low tones like the proper little housewife he was sure they’d trained you to be. He could see the endgame here—the reason they were pushing this arrangement on him. It wasn’t subtle.

The higher-ups likely wanted a presence in his home—someone to keep tabs on him and Megumi, no doubt. They hadn’t explicitly stated as much, but Toji had caught whispers through the grapevine about their interest in his son’s cursed technique. And with his own tendency to remain elusive, it wasn’t surprising that they’d want to keep a closer watch on him, too.

The thought of them using someone barely older than Megumi to achieve their goals left a bitter taste in his mouth. The arrangement reeked of manipulation—a calculated ploy to plant a spy in his home, someone to funnel information back to your clan, his clan, and the higher-ups that were still keeping tabs on him.

Toji didn’t give a damn about his reputation, but it was clear they were fishing for confirmation, likely hoping to uncover whether some of the rumors about him were true. No matter how much he tried to brush it off, the whole setup just didn’t sit right with him.

But then he caught the way your eyes stayed steady, resolute. You looked indifferent to the situation, but he could tell this wasn’t what you wanted. It couldn’t be. You were really just a child. And yet, that unwavering expression of yours sealed his decision.

He accepted.

Another mouth to feed, another brat to deal with, no doubt. But maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to help keep Megumi in line while he was out working. Better that than leaving you to the wolves. He understood the clan system all too well—how they saw their women, how they treated them.

He’d seen how young brides were shuffled like pawns, paired with whichever man could best serve the clan’s interests. The thought of you being handed off to some pathetic bastard made his stomach churn. At least here, under his roof, you wouldn’t have to endure that.

Call it generosity if you wanted. But if he were honest, it wasn’t that. You reminded him of his late wife—the fearlessness bordering on defiance in your eyes, the sheer willpower it must’ve taken to show up in the first place. Most girls in your situation would have cried or begged, pleading not to marry some old geezer, especially one infamous in the community as a Sorcerer Killer.

But you didn’t beg. Didn’t cry. You just stood there, composed, unshaken. Bored.

He could respect that.

And like that, the black sheep of the Zenin clan would become your husband. Your family. And your sole protector.

He remembers the quiet way you stepped into his apartment for the first time, your gaze sweeping the room with a calm, measured air. There was no hesitation, no unease—just a quiet assessment of the space, as though you were cataloging everything in that sharp mind of yours. The look on your face didn’t suit someone your age. You carried the weight of forced maturity, a burden that stirred an old, painful memory he immediately shoved back down.

He could tell you were judging, though you didn’t say a word. It was in the faint crease of your brow, the almost imperceptible way your lips tightened. It sparked a flicker of irritation in him, the kind he couldn’t entirely shake. If you didn’t like it, you didn’t have to stay, yeah?

But Toji was surprised when you didn’t say a word. Finding your way to his bedroom, You set your things down without complaint or hesitation. Then, as if you’d been living there for years, you got straight to work. No requests, no questions—just quiet purpose.

It was like you’d already claimed your space, like you’d accepted the role handed to you without a second thought. Color him impressed. He wasn't necessarily gonna ask you to do all that, but hell he wasn't going to complain.

Your former clan must’ve trained you well. He could see it in the efficiency of your movements, the way you moved through the apartment as though it were second nature. No hesitation, no asking for instructions, no unnecessary chatter. Just straight down to business.

Toji didn’t linger.

He slipped out quietly, already lost in his thoughts about the job he had to handle. He’d be gone for two days—maybe one, if he played his cards right. Not that he needed to tell you. You didn’t need to know the details. You were here to stay put, to take care of things while he was gone. Simple as that.

As he rounded the corner outside the apartment, that nagging feeling crept in—a vague itch at the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something. He paused mid-step, frowning as he patted his pockets. Wallet? Keys? No, he had those. His smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly shrugged it off, muttering under his breath.

"Can't be that important."

Megumi had taken the long way home today.

Several boys in his class had been pissing him off to no end, and he’d been itching for a fight. He needed a distraction—something to cool him off. He really couldn’t afford to get into another school fight. The pitying looks his teachers gave him felt degrading, especially when Toji never bothered to show and pick him up.

The long way home was scenic, at least. Trees and plants lined the path, offering some peace as he trudged along. He wasn’t sure whether Toji would even be home when he arrived. He never really knew for certain. And honestly, Megumi wasn’t in the mood to hear his dad’s loud TV shows or his obnoxious phone calls. If he wasn’t, then the apartment would just be empty, cold, and silent.

Either way, it didn’t matter.

What Megumi really cared about was dinner.

The fridge had been empty for weeks, and his deadbeat dad hadn’t bothered to restock it. Megumi had been scraping by, finding ways to earn enough cash for food. Sometimes he’d deliver things for the neighbors or help them with spring cleaning. Those odd jobs usually kept him going, but lately, there hadn’t been any requests. The lack of work only adding to his frustration.

He didn’t interact with Toji much. Their relationship walked a thin line between hatred and indifference. Most of the time, Megumi ignored his father, much as Toji seemed to ignore him. On the rare occasions Toji remembered Megumi existed, it always ended in chaos—loud arguments, dismissive grunts, or worse, painfully awkward attempts to act like a parent.

It had been that way ever since Megumi turned eleven. And today, more than anything, he was just hungry. Too hungry to fight with his absentee father, even if he was home. Too tired to care.

Walking up the stairs to his apartment, something caught his eye. The kitchen window was open. That stopped him in his tracks.

Toji wasn’t the kind of guy to leave windows open, even in decent weather—a weird thing to notice, but Megumi was always acutely aware of his surroundings, always attuned to his father’s patterns.

Megumi made his way inside, creeping slowly and so, so quietly. Peeking around the corner, he froze. Someone was in the kitchen—a girl. No, a woman? Your back was to him as you worked at the counter, slicing onions with quick, precise movements. He blinked, his sharp eyes narrowing. You were young—maybe just a few years older than him.

Younger than Toji’s usual type, that was for sure. You didn’t fit. Toji wasn’t a stranger to bringing women around the apartment, but they never looked like you. And they never lingered. Most were gone by breakfast, hurrying out with an awkward smile and a strained “bye” when they spotted Megumi at the table.

He watched you chop onions, noticing the glint of a ring on your finger. So, you were married—

“You can come out from there, y’know.”

Megumi flinched slightly, caught off guard. For a brief moment, he felt the sting of embarrassment—spying and getting caught wasn’t a good look—but he quickly reminded himself this was his home. He had no reason to feel embarrassed. Straightening his posture, he stepped out from behind the doorway, his sharp eyes fixed on you as you casually wiped your hands on a towel.

You turned to face him, a soft smile playing on your lips. The first thing he noticed was how pretty you were. Tall and poised, you stood at least a head above him, dressed in modest, traditional clothing that seemed entirely out of place in this shabby apartment. There was something elegant about you, a kind of refinement that felt worlds away from the usual chaos of his father’s one-night stands.

“Who are you? Why’re you here?” His tone came out sharper than he intended, huffy and childish, and it made him bristle. He hated how it sounded.

You studied him for a moment, his scowl almost endearing, before introducing yourself and explaining, simply, that this was now your house.

Megumi’s brow furrowed, and he crossed his arms, his voice defiant. “You don’t live here. Leave.”

The attempt at a threat would’ve been more intimidating if his stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to growl, breaking the tension. You bit back a laugh, quickly covering your mouth, but it was hard not to find the situation entertaining.

The way he stood there, furrowed brow and stubborn glare, reminded you of a fussy kitten—all bristling fur and misplaced bravado. It was clear he wasn’t used to strangers lingering in his space, and his defensiveness only made him seem more adorable. Still, he was serious—you really shouldn’t laugh.

He looked so much like Toji—same sharp features, same brooding energy—minus the flat hair and scar. You’d heard about him before coming here, mentioned briefly by your clan head, but the reality of meeting him was different. He was much cuter than you’d expected, truly embodying the “fussy kitty” vibe, and you had to resist the urge to tease him outright.

“Ah,” you said lightly, your tone soothing, “but I’m in the middle of cooking. Why don’t we eat first, and then we can talk?”

Your tone was gentle, your smile genuine, and Megumi couldn’t sense any malice from you. Besides, whatever you were making smelled incredible, and his stomach had been growling from the moment he walked in. His gaze shifted to the counter, where ingredients and half-prepped dishes were laid out. He hesitated. Sure, his dad had brought women home before, but none of them ever bothered to cook—especially not for him. Against his better judgment, he gave a small, reluctant nod.

Before long, the two of you were sitting at the kitchen table, three plates set neatly in front of you. It was late, but you still held onto the hope that Toji might come home. You made light conversation with Megumi, trying to get a feel for the boy you now understood to be your stepson.

You’d been briefed by your clan about Toji and his son—vague instructions to “watch Toji” and “get on his son's good side.” They hadn’t been specific about why, but their motives were never selfless. Still, you had no intention of playing into their games. Not fully. What you wanted was to build an honest connection with your new family, especially with this grumpy, sharp-eyed boy who seemed to have a chip on his shoulder as big as his father’s.

As the meal went on, you began to learn little things about him. He remained distant, his responses clipped and matter-of-fact, but the warmth of a good meal and your gentle smile seemed to soften him, even if just slightly. You managed to coax his name out of him, and though he said it without much fanfare, it felt like a small victory.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

It was a Friday night, and you figured Megumi would be around the house tomorrow. As you finished the surprisingly comfortable dinner, your eyes lingered on the third, untouched plate at the table—Toji’s. You wondered, briefly, if he’d show up at all.

“He probably won’t be back tonight,” Megumi said, breaking your train of thought. His voice was matter-of-fact, as if he had long since grown used to this routine. He shoveled another spoonful of food into his mouth before adding, “Probably be gone for a few days.”

This surprised you, sure, but you weren’t going to complain anytime soon. As long as you didn’t have to go back to that horrid clan house, you could put up with a missing husband. In fact, you kind of preferred it this way.

You laughed softly at Megumi’s puffed-up cheeks, making him flush red as he swallowed quickly. Your smile still seemed to throw him off guard. The conversation flowed easily—a mix of lighthearted bickering and probing questions on both ends.

“What’s the ring for?” he asked suddenly, his sharp gaze flicking to your hand. His tone was casual, but there was an underlying curiosity, as if he hadn’t noticed the simple band until now.

Your fingers instinctively twisted the warm metal as you glanced down at it, the question catching you off guard. “Ah, well, I’ve just married,” you replied softly, your voice carrying a faint melancholy despite your attempt to sound neutral. You hadn’t meant to let that slip, but the truth clung to the edges of your words. Quickly, you smiled, lightening the moment as you reached over to ladle another spoonful of food onto Megumi’s empty plate.

“Arranged marriage? With who?” he asked, the concept not foreign but undeniably unsettling. You seemed like such a nice person, except for the fact that you were sitting in his kitchen—someone he’d assumed was just another one of his father’s passing flings. But unlike the others, you’d cooked for him and his father, cleaned the kitchen until it looked better than it had in weeks, and now you were sitting down to dinner with him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Though he’d only known you for a few hours, he didn’t think you’d be the type to cheat on your husband or worm your way into their lives without cause. His mind caught up to him, the pieces falling into place.

“…Not Toji. Right?” His voice faltered, and you couldn’t help but think how strange it was to hear him refer to his father by his first name.

You let out a soft laugh at his shocked expression, shaking your head before nodding. “The one and only,” you admitted.

The look on his face was almost comical, his brows raised high, his mouth slightly agape. But beneath the initial surprise, there was something darker—an unease that settled into the lines of his frown. Wary, guarded. He didn’t like this, not one bit.

After dinner, you sent Megumi off to bed, tidying up the plates left behind. He didn’t wait for you to finish cleaning, retreating to his room with his thoughts spinning.

As he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t stop replaying the conversation in his head. His father was married—to you, of all people. And for some reason, that knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth.

It was weird. Megumi had left the house empty and returned to find you. If what you were saying was true, you were about to take over as his stepmother. He wouldn’t put it past his shitty father to pop up suddenly married—it was exactly the kind of thing Toji would do.

Still, the whole situation didn’t sit right with him. An arranged marriage wasn’t out of the question. You seemed way too sweet and proper to have chosen someone like Toji willingly. Megumi’s knowledge of clan life, hierarchy, or how arranged marriages worked in the sorcerer world was frustratingly limited, thanks to his father’s insistence on keeping him far removed from all of it.

Then there was your age. You were young—too young for his dad. Closer to his age than Toji’s. The thought churned his stomach. Was Toji an even bigger pervert than he originally thought? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to want to settle down. What was this about, then? Did he just want a housemaid? Someone to clean up after him and Megumi while he went off on his “business trips”?

It didn’t seem fair to you. What were you getting out of this arrangement? What could have possibly led you to agree to marry someone like Toji?

The more Megumi thought about it, the more wrong it all felt. You seemed too kind, too proper, too... normal for this situation. Surely there was more to the story. Were you being forced into this? Did you have your own reasons that you weren’t sharing?

But then again, there was always the chance you were lying.

People lied all the time. You could be some psycho ex-girlfriend worming your way back into his father’s life. Or worse, a manipulative stranger with motives that had nothing to do with Toji at all. You might’ve seemed nice now, but Megumi wasn’t about to take anything at face value.

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall, his thoughts racing. He didn’t know what to make of you, couldn’t figure out whether to trust the calm sincerity you projected or to see it for what it might be: a well-crafted facade.

One thing was certain—he wasn’t going to let his guard down so easily.

He’d just have to wait it out, keep an eye on you, and see what happened when Toji finally dragged his ass back home.

p.2?

AN: Thank you for reading! Please reblog and like if you enjoy this series!

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notreallythatlost · 3 days ago

Text

AAAAAA THIS WAS AMAZING

JUST FREAKING AMAZING I CAN’T

i have so much to say so here we go…

You had pulled him close to your breast and sank down into the petaled carpet of the forest floor, stroking his hair and listening as he raged on about the war in the north.

You love him like this; no cares, no worries of war. You can soothe him like no one else, a great source of pride whenever he mentions it.

LITERALLY A BABY

"You're staring, love." He smiles, snapping open his eyes and fixing you with an affectionate expression that makes your heart melt.

STARING AT YOU??? ALWAYS

"Love, we have to go, come now," he holds you firmly by the arms, shaking you a little to clear your mind of the dust and debris and blood on the streets of Gondolin.

the whole scene has me in pieces, she had to leave everything behind (for that i would curse morgoth too)

The crushing weight of the love in his hole of a heart moves his hand before he can stop himself. With gnawing doubt in his stomach, he wordlessly takes the knife from you, mixing his pitch black blood with your own on the page.

he really loves her, that‘s the proof 😭😭

"Forever and a day, a lonely fate will be yours. You shall not know the word of a friend, the loyalty of a follower, or the touch of a lover. I curse you to wander the Seen and Unseen world alone, craving the connection you sought to sunder here."

THAT IS WHAT HE DESERVES AND NOTHING LESS

"The Valar will never look upon me favourably, beloved. I could present them Melkor in chains and they would only bind me to him."

AHH STOP THESE LINES I‘M CRYING

"I don't need to. Love, you will join me." His desperation becomes honeyed, dripping with the devotion you so crave from him.

devotion? sounds more like obsession 🧐

"Who do you think you are?" He hisses, venom in every word; you don't recognise him, cold terror in your heart at the sudden switch, as if someone had doused the candle burning for you in his heart with oil, engulfing him with wildfire.

HOW DARE YOU ASKING THAT QUESTION???

"I know exactly who I am. I'm the woman who leaves you."

my heart just broke

"And where will you go? Your people are scattered and displaced, and who would take you in if they knew?" His sweetly honeyed words still bite at your heart, settling in the pit of your stomach.

i would‘ve killed him for this words

He pushes his thigh between your legs, letting you grind yourself against him instinctively, and he groans, deep and low in his chest.

what… what did i say?

His clever fingers usually make light work of the laces of your corset, but his impatience defeats him, and he pulls a dagger from the lining of his robes, slicing cleanly through the fabric.

Twin crowns, wrought in black iron, twisted and wicked, emanating a dark power that made you nauseous; ready for the heads of Middle Earth's new King and Queen. (…) He falls to his knees, his head in line with your mound. He looks up at you, locking his gaze with yours, and delves into your folds with his tongue, seeking your pleasure. (…) He worships at your altar, an acolyte to your pleasure, drawing unearthly sounds from deep within you, willing you to just stay and be his.

screaming, crying, throwing up

"If you were to leave me," he moans against your heated skin, stroking his cock against your thigh, "there would be no rest for any bird, beast, or being in this land, no sleep, no sustenance, these lands would burn until you were returned to me."

A chorus of "mine" and "please" fill the air, and you're unsure whose voice is the louder, who is more desperate in their claiming of the other.

i’m always forgetting about breathing oml

It is only when you finally see daylight, pushing open the great black doors to the fortress, that you can breathe a sigh of relief. If you can just get a headstart, perhaps you'll be able to outrun him.

noo stoop 😭

As he lay in a pool of thick black blood, his last thought was of you; how could you betray him? And thank the Valar you did.

It is as you contemplate your frozen breath in the air, that you realise you can't feel him. A vacuum in your mind, a void in your heart that you haven't experienced in more than a thousand years, and you can barely recognise that it is his absence that has left such a hole.

this whole fic left a hole in my heart too

i have to go… doing things… crying

Haunted (Sauron/F!Reader)

...by the kiss you should never have given me

Lots of mini-chapters add up to an omnibus of angst, as we follow Sauron through the centuries and discover exactly what happened before his coronation.

Sequel to To Have and To Hold // Prequel to In the Dark of the Night // AO3 Link

Soundtrack: Kiss Me Harder by Jordan Fiction, Judas by Lady Gaga, Angels by Within Temptation, Heaven's A Lie by Lacuna Coil, NFWMB by Hozier

Warnings: 18+! Angst, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, manipulation, toxic relationship (more overt towards the end), obsessive!Sauron, soft!Sauron (yes the two can coincide), knifeplay (just a tiny bit), blood magic, Sauron is a bit of a dick towards the end, sorry, accidental prey/predator kink, knifeplay (again, tiny bit), grinding, slightly dubious consent (you do want it, but I'll tag anyway), oral sex (female receiving), P in V sex, more blood.

A/N: little bit of jumping around in this one, sorry, we start just after the wedding, then we jump to the fall of Gondolin, a little magic ritual in the middle, then the fallout from the sinking of Beleriand (why do you keep getting caught up in this??), then we close out the First Age with a little argument before someone's coronation! Little slices of their romance in quick succession! I went a little experimental in the form of this one, with a bunch of flashbacks informing the main plot at the end. I hope it works 🤞

Special thanks to @olchr-1 for the idea for our revenge on Morgoth!!

Translation note: Amartherui translates in Sindarin to "lonely fate" [Fate (amarth) Alone (erui)]

Word Count: 6k!

Fingers entwined with his, head on his chest, you were enthralled by him, by every pretty word and sweet gesture. Every time he came to visit, you would spend days on end in your secluded glade, to make up for his inexplicably long periods of absence. Sometimes he would come to you with dizzying tales of his latest triumphs, preening under your undivided attention. But lately he had taken to returning under black clouds, tetchy where he was usually playful, and rough where gentleness once reigned.

You had pulled him close to your breast and sank down into the petaled carpet of the forest floor, stroking his hair and listening as he raged on about the war in the north. You had kin fighting the armies of Morgoth, and knew his sorrows all too well, but something behind his eyes told you it was more than he was letting on.

You weave strands of his hair into elaborate braids in your lap, before undoing them and creating something greater in their stead. He eventually quiets under your idle fiddling, eyes drifting shut with a contented smile gracing his face, like a cat napping in the afternoon sun. You love him like this; no cares, no worries of war. You can soothe him like no one else, a great source of pride whenever he mentions it.

You gaze down at his unearthly smooth features and trace each contour with your eyes; your fingers slow in their busy work, moving gently across his scalp, lazily twisting his hair around your finger, making a ring to match the one he'd gifted you, ornate and bejeweled, glittering with an impossible inner light, to replace the woven band of purple iris that he'd improvised on the night of your wedding.

"You're staring, love." He smiles, snapping open his eyes and fixing you with an affectionate expression that makes your heart melt.

"Is a wife not allowed to stare at her husband? Are there no privileges to marriage at all?" Your voice is soft but your tone is mischievous, and he smirks.

"I can think of a few, ah, privileges, dearest, in fact we have exercised a few already today." He raises his eyebrows, before pulling you down to meet his lips. "But if you need reminding, you need only ask."

You had agreed to meet in the same secluded glade at the next new moon, but he never showed. The hours you wasted awaiting his return were at first exciting, full of electric anticipation that only love's first bloom can give. As the moon slowly passed overhead, and twinkling stars gave way to blazing sun, you shed many a tear at your folly. Perhaps he had been some mirage, an illusion to tempt you? Or perhaps the depth of his feeling did not match yours, a fleeting thought you had to bury deep in case it irrevocably shattered your heart.

You frequent the glade every so often, convincing yourself that it was a perfectly fine place to pass your time, and that you were not reminded of his warm hands or even warmer smile, every time you visit. Deceiving yourself that it meant much less to you than it did, that if he returned now after so much time with no word or warning, you would not jump into his open arms without a second thought.

Your heartache is apparent to your friends and kin, who assume you're suffering the grief they all feel, having lost so many of their kind to Morgoth's rampage in the north. How little they knew; how little you knew.

It is only when one good friend mentions the siege at Angband, that you are struck with the terrible notion that the man you cursed for abandoning you, might not have done it willingly after all. That perhaps, Valar forbid, he had perished in the siege. He had mentioned fighting in the war after all, but you had not connected that with his absence. After all, he had promised to return to you, on the morning after you had met, having shared a blissful slumber in each other's arms. He held your hands to his lips and swore he would see you again, and now it makes sense. Now you have a real reason to grieve, you realise, and the anger roiling within you turns cold, an icy pit in your stomach as tears fall freely and your heart wrenches and cracks. You were to only have one night with him, and you might never even discover his true fate.

You reason with yourself that surely you would feel if the other half of you had flown this mortal plain. But the alternative was much crueler, and to believe him dead was somehow a less hopeless fate.

Centuries later when you look back, you curse yourself for not seeing who he was, and what he'd done, but how could you? He'd taken you as his own and that was such a strong spell to break, Eru himself would have had to step in.

To see your city fall at the hands of your husband’s master, you had no words, only wet hot tears as you watch your people die.

"Love, we have to go, come now," he holds you firmly by the arms, shaking you a little to clear your mind of the dust and debris and blood on the streets of Gondolin.

"I can't, I can't leave them, I have to find-"

"No, we're evacuating, you're not staying a minute longer. I should not have let you linger here when He appeared on the horizon, we should have-"

You tug your arm from his vice-like grip. "Should have what? Should have left my people to wrack and ruin? We have to..." Your mind is so murky, filled with thoughts of leaving, running as far as you can with him, despite your overwhelming urge to stay and help where you can.

"We have to leave. You know there is nothing we can do for them, He will leave none alive, and I won't have you-" he can't say it, he can't even entertain the notion of you coming to harm; his fingers tighten their grip, almost painful in their desperation.

He should have foreseen this, he should have gotten you to safety when he first had an inkling that his master finally knew where the Hidden City was.

"We have to go back, I need to go back, I can't leave-"

After a thousand years, his magic had kept your tiny wedding band of iris in full bloom, untouched by the passage of time, kept safe in an ornate gilded chest, made by his own fair hands. And it was sitting in your apartments on the other side of the city, where your kin doubtless waited for you to leave with them. The sentiment in your heart held you steadfast against his shaking and pleading.

"Love, we can't stay here-" he is interrupted by explosions overhead, as the enemy host draw closer.

"You don't understand-"

"Whatever it is, it doesn't matter, you're the only thing that matters. We have to go!" He never raises his voice to you, so you're a little dumbstruck when he growls at you.

"But we have to save them!" You stop in your tracks, feet rooted to the ground, indignant at the idea of abandoning your friends and neighbours to their doom.

"Amarië," his voice is suddenly so soft, it disquiets you, brings you back to the present. "Love, they're gone. There is no saving to be done."

Sauron is a stranger to remorse, to sorrow, but at the effect of his words, a pang of guilt sweeps through him when he tells you that in all the world, he is all you have now. He tries to ignore the warm thrill he feels in the pit of his stomach, that this great cataclysm has brought about the fate he always wanted for the two of you: just you and he, no one else to rob him of your attention.

You wanted to feel deeply all the grief and pain that one would expect at being told their life was over.

Instead you just felt numb, haunted by the consequences of his actions.

"I curse him." Your husband's eyes grow wide at your words, grasping your hands as if to quiet you, but you press on.

"I curse Melkor, Morgoth Bauglir, to roam this earth alone. To never know peace, to never know that which he so jealously craves."

You feel you're taking Morgoth's curse rather well, all things considered. Sauron had to beg you not to storm Angband yourself after he had told you of his master's new name for you, cursing you to a forsaken existence, sundering you from your husband in all but spirit.

You had fought your way back to him countless times, and he to you; you had both vowed to continue to do so, but the rage and grief had not lessened with time, stoked to a towering inferno of wrath that threatened to break you any time you were reminded of it.

And after the fall of Gondolin, your rage at the Enemy was insatiable.

So you had your revenge.

"Enemy. Tyrant. Now I name you again."

In the dead of night, flickering candlelight casting ominous shadows over your face, Sauron cannot help but admire you, crave you, as you corrupt his master's fate.

You slice open your hand, squeezing your palm over the parchment before you, watching as crimson splashes through the stark black lettering.

Amartherui.

"Help me." You look him in the eye, your simple plea making his chest ache; he has never said no to you, his sweet wife, but this is the first time he has been tempted.

"Amarië..." his soft sigh almost convinces you to abandon your plan, but the fury bubbling in your veins is too great.

"Beloved, will you help me or not? Your power would bring this curse to fruition, but if you will have no part in it, you should leave." You stand taller, drawing yourself up to match his gaze, impossible as that may seem.

"I have never asked you for anything. Please do this for me."

You smile, a weight lifting from your shoulders instantly, and you pull him down to kiss him hard, leaving a red streak on his neck.

"I name you, Morgoth, as my people have long titled you, Amartherui." His new name falls off your tongue like a dream, and you cannot help but smile, your wicked deed complete, as you set the parchment alight, the flames glowing a sickly grey-green as the candles flicker and the room darkens, long shadows growing where the light had tentatively reigned.

In the back of your mind, there is some semblance of guilt. There is nothing good in the act you just performed, nothing virtuous or pure in your revenge; it's cold and calculated, vicious and spiteful.

Transcending the bounds of time and space, you can feel your curse has taken effect, something shifting in the air between you and your husband.

Sauron has never loved you more, and he shows you many times that night the depth of his feelings.

You watch as more refugees stagger into your haven with naught more than the clothes on their backs, waiting to help and heal and offer your comfort where you can. The war has left such a dreadful path of destruction in its wake; thousands of your kin are displaced as the host of the Valar battle their way to Angband, and your people had chosen where the river Sirion meets the sea as their secret haven.

It has been decades since the armies of Valinor first arrived on the shores of Middle Earth, and the end was drawing near, according to your husband, who was waiting with you in the safety of the havens and watching closely.

"I'll see you when I'm finished here," you whisper as you reach up to plant a kiss on your husband's lips. "It'll probably be late, don't wait up for me."

He gives you an affectionate smile; how could he not wait for you? Even if he did partake in sleep, he would not be able to rest without you at his side.

"I'll be up, return to me soon." He is reluctant to let you go, but your skills are in such dire need while the city is inundated with the sick and injured.

Before the War, it was uncommon for Elves to suffer such fates, being hardy in soul and body, but Morgoth's darkness had infiltrated much of the land and infected so many of your kin. Soldiers, innocent bystanders, there were hardly any who were unaffected, and fighting the darkness was a constant effort on your part, and the team of healers you had trained in the magics of your people.

"My lady, they are calling for you." The herald's voice shakes you from Sauron's gaze, and he huffs impatiently.

"I must go." You reluctantly begin to pull away, but he draws you back, pulling you close and wrapping you up in an embrace you could cling to for an age.

"I love you," he murmurs in your ear. "When this is all over, we shall establish the greatest kingdom this land has ever seen."

"If there is a land left." You try to remain hopeful but the news of the siege at Angband is never good, never hopeful, and you fear your home will never be free of Morgoth's influence.

"I am your home," your husband, your Mairon, reminds you, tracing your cheek softly, and you cannot help but return his radiant smile.

"I know, love, as I am yours." You press a soft kiss to his knuckles, taking the strength he offers, before departing to disperse your light where you can.

The darkness infects everything it touches, and it takes all of your energy and more to renew your broken and weary kin, who have travelled so far and fought so hard to reach the havens. Healing words and ancient spells woven into soft songs, settling over the city in a melodic shield, rejuvenating the minds and bodies of your people. You work late into the night, spreading the light where you can, easing the pitch black horror in the hearts of those who had seen the worst of Morgoth's endeavours.

The night is all-encompassing when you finally crawl into bed, nestling into Mairon's firm warmth, trying not to disturb him but feeling sweet relief when his hands trace your sides in greeting.

"I was going to come look for you," his deep voice rumbles in your chest as he presses himself against you.

"No need," you try to smile, but your voice cracks as his tenderness breaks your defences, and all the heartache of the day pours out of you like blood from a wound.

His heart wrenches. He has no business feeling such emotions as remorse, but once again you have him feeling in ways that he dislikes intensely.

"I'm sorry, my love." And he is. He is actually sorry for causing you pain, the rest of Middle Earth be damned.

You sigh and take his hand, holding it over your heart.

"I know, love." You ponder your next question, whether it is a good idea to ask, but you ask anyway.

"You cannot assist in the efforts against Him? I'm sure the Valar would be grateful for your help, might even look favourably upon you-"

He interrupts you with a sigh and a kiss to your neck.

"The Valar will never look upon me favourably, beloved. I could present them Melkor in chains and they would only bind me to him."

Of course, he has thought about begging clemency, thought about fleeing with you to the edges of the world, even thought of taking you back to his master. But in the end, it was more prudent to keep you safe, and to watch and wait for the triumphant side to reveal themselves. Better to beg forgiveness from the victor than choose the wrong side.

"Tell me I'm wrong." You dare him to speak against you, your voice shaking in anger as your fists clench.

"My love, I-"

"No, I don't want falsehoods, I don't want games or lies or deceit, just tell me. Did you go to Eönwë as you promised?"

"I did. And I found their response wanting." In truth he had tried to make amends, tried to do penance for the ages he'd spent in Morgoth's service, but when it came to approaching Manwë for his pardon, his fear overtook him and he fled back to Angband, but he couldn't tell you that, couldn't tell you he'd been weak, pitiful, his courage failing him at the final steps to absolution.

And he definitely couldn't tell you that in order for his pardon to be granted, he would have to give you up, to avoid blackening your soul any further.

He'd rather suffer your eternal wrath than be sundered from you for even a moment.

"So you traded forgiveness for more lies." You clench your jaw, your head beginning to pound, the subtle throb becoming a stabbing pain in your temple.

"I did it for you."

"How? How is this for me?" You mock him, incensed now that he would deflect his deceit onto you.

He stands to comfort you but you rip your hands from his grasp before he can claim you.

"I do not know what to say. I thought I knew you, I thought you would do the right thing." You shake your head and laugh, your scorn stinging him as if it were a poisoned blade.

"Love, please-"

"No! No more lies. I've had it with trickery and deception, I want out." You whirl around to face him. "Shadow of Morgoth, they call you. You gather his armies to you once more, you refired his crown! So is that what you want? Do you want to be his second coming?"

In all honesty, no. His master's plans were beneath him; Morgoth wanted to break the world, Sauron wanted to reshape it, to balance and perfect it, by any means necessary.

"Please, listen to me, I need you by my side, now more than ever." He clutches your hands, heart pounding, looking deeply into your eyes, willing you to fall for his pretty words once more.

"You didn't answer me." Tears begin to prick your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall in front of him, stepping back to take a deep breath, to steady your nerves to face the man you thought you loved.

"I don't need to. Love, you will join me." His desperation becomes honeyed, dripping with the devotion you so crave from him.

"Don't. Don't do that." You whisper, as he stalks toward you slowly, his deception burning a hole in your heart that you're sure will never be filled.

"Don't you want to be with me? For all eternity, that is what we always said." He circles you, hands on your shoulders, in your hair, overwhelming you with his lover's touch, just a mite too rough.

"Not if this is your plan. I didn't marry Morgoth, I married Mairon." Sauron, your mind reminds you, and for a second you feel a wave of nausea overwhelm you.

His face twists and he pulls away.

"That is not my name." He growls, an ugly grimace taking over his lovely features.

"I've told you before, don't look inside my head!" You retort, his presence in your mind suddenly overwhelmingly obvious.

You throw him out of your mind, slamming the door shut, refusing him access to that which would be so freely given if he deserved it.

The tic in his jaw is back with a vengeance and his eyes are ablaze with a fury the like of which you have never seen.

"I chose you, of all your people, as my wife; I could have had anyone, but I chose you. Aulë’s greatest smith, Melkor's most trusted lieutenant, lord of all the dark things that creep and crawl in this world. And who are you? My beloved wife." His tone is like poison in your veins, burning and spitting fire in your heart.

Who are you? He's right; who the hell do you think you are?

"I know exactly who I am. I'm the woman who leaves you."

You shall not be forsaken this time, not that doing the forsaking feels any sweeter. It wrenches every fibre of your being, your heart pounding in your chest, but you make it to the door of his chambers, hand on the doorknob, before he breaks from his stunned daze, crosses the room and clasps his hand over yours on the cool metal.

"And where will you go? Your people are scattered and displaced, and who would take you in if they knew?" His sweetly honeyed words still bite at your heart, settling in the pit of your stomach.

"I cannot stay here, not now that I know exactly what you are." You look up at him, holding his gaze, somehow fighting the urge to scratch and claw and bite your way free like a feral animal, suddenly overwhelmed with the sense that you should run as hard and fast as you can.

His eyes betray nothing, his lips curving into a condescending smirk, as he runs a finger down your cheek, gathering the tears you'd fought not to shed. He examines them as if he'd never seen their like, as if they were precious stones from the depths of the earth, mined just for him; he licks his fingers clean, turning his attention back to you, trembling under him as he cages you against the door.

"Please... please let me go." The look in his eye says begging will be useless, but you try anyway.

"You are my Queen. You're free to do as you please." He replies, voice smooth, with a pretty smirk and that predatory glint in his eye that would usually thrill you so, that still sends hot arousal pooling between your thighs, mixed with icy cold terror.

"It would please me to leave," you try to appeal to him, softening your voice, lowering your gaze.

"I'm sure it would..." he utters breathlessly as he takes you in, leaning over you, watching the artery in your throat jump in time to his own racing heartbeat.

"Mairon... please..." His lips are on yours before you can finish your plea, his hands tangled in your hair.

He pushes his thigh between your legs, letting you grind yourself against him instinctively, and he groans, deep and low in his chest.

"Even now, your body betrays you, my love."

You sigh against him, fingers raking his hair roughly, letting him caress your neck, your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he tries to expose you to his gaze. His clever fingers usually make light work of the laces of your corset, but his impatience defeats him, and he pulls a dagger from the lining of his robes, slicing cleanly through the fabric.

"That was my favourite," you admonish him, still angry with him; even as he takes you apart with his fingers and his tongue, you can't forget his plans, and you certainly can't ignore his gift to you, sitting by the window in all their glory.

Twin crowns, wrought in black iron, twisted and wicked, emanating a dark power that made you nauseous; ready for the heads of Middle Earth's new King and Queen. When you'd seen them, your blood ran cold, as you realised that once again, you'd been victim to Sauron’s deception.

"You will have a thousand more, dearest wife, whatever your heart desires," he promises breathlessly as he shucks off your dress, sliding it down your body, worshipping you with the lightest touch, soft kisses peppering your skin as he disrobes you. He falls to his knees, his head in line with your mound. He looks up at you, locking his gaze with yours, and delves into your folds with his tongue, seeking your pleasure.

You gasp, throwing your head back, as he spreads your legs to access your entrance, splitting you open with two fingers, still drawing every moan and whimper from your throat as he circles your clit, licking long strokes, tiny laps at your skin, letting you ride his face in your lustful haze. You grip his hair more roughly than you normally would, your wrath seeping into your lust, until you can't detect the distinction between the two.

He takes one of your legs and places it on his shoulder, letting you rest against him, both of you totally at the other's mercy. Such trust, such devotion, would you throw that away? Would you truly abandon him?

He worships at your altar, an acolyte to your pleasure, drawing unearthly sounds from deep within you, willing you to just stay and be his.

Your mind is racing as tendrils of his power cling to your lips, fighting for entrance to quiet your thoughts, and replace them with his sweet music. Wouldn't it just be easier? To let the darkness in?

You might as well, you muse in the back of your head, thoughts displaced by pleasure as the darkness feasts upon you.

He's solely focused on you; there is nowhere he would rather be in all of Arda. The unblemished shores of Valinor, the white trees that used to light the world, he can finally understand why his master was so hellbent on their destruction. For there is no beauty that should merit a comparison to you, and he would raze these lands to the ground to prove it.

You're drawing close, he realises, and briefly wonders whether to allow you your release on his lips.

You feel him pull away and moan, a tiny pitiful sound that makes him chuckle; of course you need him, of course you can't be without him, even in anger. Victory is nigh, and he pulls himself out of his robes to claim you once again.

He pushes you back, your name on the tip of his tongue, as he takes you in, breathes your air.

"You're mine," he growls, nuzzling your neck to better scent you. "Say it, say you'll always be mine."

"I will," you murmur softly, tears pricking your eyes as you hold him close.

He claims you in one thrust, filling you so completely, so sweetly, that you see stars, your breath stolen from your lungs as if it were the first time you'd ever laid eyes on him.

Your heart wrenches, pulling towards his, despite your entire being screaming at you.

You kiss him harder, your mind quietened as he bites your lip, droplets of blood wetting his tongue, quickening his insatiable need to be inside you in every way that is possible; mind, body, soul, all inextricably entwined.

The tears in your eyes threaten to fall, but you blink them back as he rocks into you, the chorus of your lovemaking drowning out all other notions. He plays you so well, a master in the art of drawing sweet melody from your lips; the harmony you both create together is unmatched to his ears, a Maia who helped sing the world into being.

A chorus of "mine" and "please" fill the air, and you're unsure whose voice is the louder, who is more desperate in their claiming of the other.

You feel him stiffen against you, his melody reaching a crescendo before yours, as he fills you with his pleasure, low groans in your ear bringing you to your peak as well. He wrings every last moan out of you, drawing out the coda of your song until there are no more notes to be played, no more pleasure to be taken.

Sweat-slicked and exhausted, you hold each other close, entwined so perfectly. You let him carry you to his bed, laying you down reverently, climbing in beside you and nestling you close, arms wrapping you tightly, refusing to let you move from his grasp.

You'd usually find such comfort in his embrace, but tonight there is an itch under your skin that his touch only amplifies, making you fight not to squirm beside him.

You cannot sleep for fear of letting him inside your head again, so when a knock at the door comes, you welcome it.

He sighs, long and loud in your ear, as evidence of his displeasure.

"I'll be back, love, there are matters I must attend to."

"Of course," you smile, fighting to make it meet your eyes.

He regards you carefully, brow furrowed.

"Do not fear, my love," he says softly as he leans down to kiss you once more. "I won't be long."

As he departs, he gives you one final look of longing, which you hasten to return with all the eagerness you can muster.

The door clicks shut, your expression falls, and you immediately disentangle yourself from the sheets,

Finding obscene amounts of your clothing and jewellery, and books beyond measure in his room was no surprise. He must have been preparing for this for years, if not longer.

Now that Morgoth was gone, the next phase of his plan could move forward, and that involved you, his Queen, taking up her rightful residence.

You dress as quickly as you're able, taking only what you can carry, and go to leave. But you notice a small ornate chest you thought you'd lost when Gondolin fell, sitting on the dresser by his bed as if it had always belonged there.

You feel as if you've been stabbed, a gut-wrenching heartache overwhelming you as you can do nothing but stand and stare.

He went back for it. He kept it all this time.

Your feet move of their own accord, and before you can blink, you've opened the chest, staring at the impossible artefact of your love for each other.

Unfurled purple petals, revealing a stark white centre, the woven band appearing as fresh as it did on the day he married you.

You hold it up, comparing it to the ring you currently wear. He really had somehow captured its likeness in a jewel, deep purple revealing a bright light in its centre, framed by ornate silver details.

You cannot bring yourself to slip it on, after all that has happened, his lies and broken promises, but you are loath to leave it.

Movement outside his chambers sends a shiver of panic through you, and you quickly move to hide behind the door. The subsequent banging has you quaking but you stand your ground, waiting for whomever it is to leave.

The door abruptly swings open, and you hear two gravelly voices discussing... you?

"Mistress?" The first call is softer, but their annoyance quickly becomes apparent as the other chimes in.

"Where is she then? They said to fetch her, but I'm not traipsing all over to find some she-Elf-"

"He won't even notice, Adar says he's too caught up in all his planning and his speeches, who cares about one missing Elf?"

"He wants them at least, over there. He'll have your head if we forget-"

"Why my head? You're the one he told-"

"Shut it and take 'em, careful now, there's magic in it still..."

Their voices fade as they shuffle back the way they came. As the door slams shut again, you realise that your husband already has an army of orcs at his disposal, and you reconsider what you're about to do, but only briefly.

Escaping the fortress is more of a task than you thought, requiring all the skills of subterfuge and swordplay that your husband has ever taught you; which is no small feat, considering the centuries you've had to learn.

Quietly slipping through the fortress mostly unnoticed, leaving the odd corpse in your wake as your husband's servants cross your path, unfortunately for them.

Thankfully the halls are mostly deserted, and you hear a clamour coming from deeper within, but you try to pay it no mind, focusing on your exit and nothing more.

It is in the middle of his speech, appealing to his army for their continued support, that Sauron notices you are absent.

He'd sent for you when his moment of victory seemed nigh at hand, and had assumed you were readying yourself for your ascent, but now that he had persuaded Adar and his children to his cause, the sight of your face was all he wanted to see.

As he knelt before Adar, awaiting his rightful crown, he searched for you in his mind's eye. He did not expect to find you outside the black gates, breathing a sigh of relief in the watery sunlight.

A surge of rage overtook him as he clenched his jaw, settling on his knees. The mere thought of your abandonment had always made his heart twist and shatter, and at that moment, he had no heart. Just a void where it used to be.

Distracted by your torment, he barely noticed the first blow, as Adar struck him again and again with the crown that was meant to define your future together.

As he lay in a pool of thick black blood, his last thought was of you; how could you betray him? And thank the Valar you did.

A great blast of freezing cold air knocks you off your feet, and for a second you thought you heard his voice on the wind. It's all you can do to just lie there, covered in frost and shaking, trying to assess if you're at least physically intact, your emotional state another matter entirely.

Clutching your head as blood trickles down your face, you shakily get to your feet. It is as if someone has emptied the heavens of all its snow where before there was nothing but arid plains. The air is suddenly glacial, the ground frozen and cracking underfoot.

You thought you might feel free when you were rid of him, but all you feel is empty, yearning for a presence that has haunted you for millennia.

#finally my review #i’m in pieces #the re-read killed me #but the fic is amazing #mo more words just wow #fic rec #annatar x reader #sauron x reader #the rings of power

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 days ago

Note

GOSHHH!!

I'm on my knees reading your stuff, you're soooo good. I finally found someone who writes Ivy in a delightful way.

Could you please write some Ivy down bad for reader when they meet in the waiting room after both of them lost their flight. It's freezing outside and they shared a cup of coffe. Something cute and a little smut, maybe?

Thank you honey :))

Thank you, darling! Means so much. 🤍✨

Missed flights

You knew you should have left yourself more time. New airports were always so much more confusing and now with only minutes to spare you were running to the gates as fast as you could. Trying to not run into anyone. “Final call to flight DF1465 all passengers please get to the gate immediately”. You cursed beneath your breath, skimming your eyes over the digital display. Before breaking into a run once more.

Slamming into someone’s side, losing your balance but not having enough time to spare. “I need to get on”, the man in front of you hands his ticket to the lady only to be met with a sharp shake of the head. “Gates are closed”. You step to the side of him, “Come on now, you just made the last call”, you frown. “Nothing can be done miss”, she shrugged, looking down at her computer.

“Well if you stopped bitching we would have already been on the flight”, the male grunted. “Is there a way to get on another plane now or anything?”, you asked, pleading, “I need to be on that plane”, “Well as all have wishes, no flight till Friday”, she clapped back. “Watch your tone”, the guy pointed at her right as she turned to leave, closing the gates.

You let your bag fall, just watching her go, already thinking of all the changes you would have to make. “Hey, sorry I bumped into you pretty hard beforehand”, the same guy gently reached out. You blinked looking at his blue eyes, “Yeah… don’t remember”, you chuckled softly. “Don’t tell me that I gave you a concussion?”, he frowned slightly shaking his head. “No, don’t worry”, you reassured him. “Well, this fucking sucks”, he grunted, running a hand over his face. “Also in a rush to get back?”, you looked at him sympathetically. “Oh, you can’t even imagine”, he sighed, “Ivy”. “My pleasure, YN”, you shook his head, “we can always try the front desk”, you motioned behind you.

That’s where you two spent the remaining 4h trying and fighting and arguing with every single person who came forward. Nothing. No one could give you any information and the closest flight was in 24h. “Let’s just go”, you pulled at his hand, feeling the exhaustion slowly settling in. Ivy shot the lady one more angry look before turning to you. “When was the last time you ate?”, he asked picking up his bag, before reaching for yours, muttering a quiet “let me”, before he took it from your hands. “Don’t remember”, you shrugged, “Well, we are eating then”, Ivy motioned for you to walk forward before following behind.

The little cafe you two found outside the airport was nearly empty, giving you both a much-needed rest and a space to talk. “We can book this?”, you turned your phone to Ivy showing him the room you had managed to find. “Not scared I’m a sociopath or anything?”, he chuckled taking a sip of his beer. You tilted your head to the side, “You don’t give me scary vibes”, you shrugged, “and if you do kidnap me at least you’re handsome”, “You think I’m handsome?”,’ a shit-eating grip spread across his face. “I’m sure that you know that you are”, you chuckled, “Oh, I do”, Ivy nodded, making you throw your head up as you laughed, “Humble much?”.

Ivy reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, thumb brushing your cheek, “You’re really pretty”, your cheeks instantly grew pink as you batted his hand away. “You’re just saying that so that we would be in the same room”, you rolled your eyes. “Absolutely, but mostly because you’re really pretty”, Ivy mused, clinking your beers together. Eyes fully focused on you.

#sleep token x reader #sleep token imagine #sleep token x you #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token iv imagine #sleep token iv x reader #sleep token iv x you

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lilsocksiswriting · 1 day ago

Text

Academic Weapon Chapter Five

Summary:

You were like a lot of humans, born with just enough curse energy to see curses but not enough power to do anything. Your greed has helped you hold in the Jujustu Sorcery program. it is this same greed that tends to blind you to the danger you are in.

Sukuan sees you as a weak pretty thing that he can hold a conversation in his class. This is what he tells him to do he falls for you, his student because the curse refuses to believe this is love.

Oh, then there is the murder.

Characters: Reader, Ryomen Sukuna, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto,Ieiri Shoko, Iori Utahime,

Pairings: Sukuna X Fem!Reader

Tags: College AU, Professor X Student, Modern Fantasy AU, NSFW

warmings: no beta lol

Notes:

.... I am so sorry for not keeping my schedule. I did not think moving, working, and going to school would make me feel so drained. And the stress acne! But anyway, here it is. I do not want to keep you all waiting. No beta and if you would like you can visit my Ko-Fi where I'm going to start posting snippets of new chapters and ideas.

Chapter Four || Chapter six || Ko-fi || Masterlist

“I need a treat,” you decided as you and Mei-Mei step out of your curse weaponry class the same day as your most recent visits to Sukuna’s office hours. You and Mei-Mei are currently following a crowd of other students down the staircase of the Jujitsu Tech Building.

Mei-Mei nods, ”A celebration is in order. Most don’t make such a good grade in Sukuna’s classes right off the bat.”

You let Mei-Mei think that is why you want something sweet as you pull your phone from your back pocket.

As the two of you make your way across the first floor to the doors of the building you suggest, “I’m thinking of the sweet shop off campus?”

“ Sounds perfect.”

The sweet shop a few blocks off campus remains open until the wee hours of the morning because of its proximity to bars and the university. As you and Mei-Mei Walk you send off your text to the group chat to see who else wants to go.

You let Mei-Mei think that the B on your first essay was why you need something sweet. You just had a day. A day in which you found out your professor, the King of Curses has the hots for you. Not only that but that knowledge turns you on. Like a lot.

So, you plan to drown yourself in sweets until you get sick. Then you will be too preoccupied to think about what the King of Curses thinks of your body.

After a relatively quiet walk, the two of you eventually come to the crosswalk across from the sweet shop. You jam your thumb on the button and wait for the other sign on the other side of the street to turn green. From here you can see the unmistakable top of snowy white hair. Gojo had not yet reopposed in the group chat, but it is not unusual for the man to frequent the sweet shop. Something about sugar and the brain. What is unusual is the identical pure white head of hair beside him.

“Mei-Mei am I seeing two Gojos?”

The taller woman squints her eyes. Before she can get a good look at what you are seeing, a constant stream of cars and trucks blocks your view. By the time the crosswalk turns green the other Gojo is gone leaving your Gojo standing outside looking down at this phone with pinched brows.

“Hey!” you wave your arm high grabbing the man’s attention as you jog across the crosswalk.

You look up and down the sidewalk but do not see the tall man’s doppelganger. There is just Gojo and the bright smile that is plastered across his face. His eyes though remain hidden under his rounded shades.

“ Hey y/n! heard you made a B in Sukuna’s class. Our little overachiever.” He ruffled your head like a proud dad. You pout and smooth your hair back down. You already have one of those and do not need another.

“Thanks, you were your twin?.”

“Oh, no one special, just some family,” he says trying to wave it off.

“Clan business?”

“Ugh,” he makes, “ please no more of the C or B word. I’ve heard enough of that for the day.”

“Oh, poor you,” Mei-Mei mocked.

You know how this will end but you ask anyway, “You know you vent to us Gojo.”

Gojo, a grown-ass man near six feet pouts like a child,” If you two are goanna tease me I won’t buy you any sweets.”

So just straight up ignored me that time, you grind your teeth.

“Oh?” Mei-Mei lulls her lead to one side with a sly smile. “Then consider the subject forgotten.”

You go along with it as well. You do like free things. You also know what will happen if you try and push Gojo. He will become even more distant and closed off. The more you push the higher his walls will be. You could never win with him.

But you cannot help but pit your friend who is in the middle of ordering a large slice of cake. Family drama on top of a murder had to be rough. You make a note to text Geto about it. He is the closest the Gojo out of your group so in times when Gojo was acting like everything was fine or totally under control because he was the strongest it was Geto who could get him to let down the façade.

----

“You look sick, are you hungover?” was the first thing you the head librarian asked after you walked into work at the Curse Collections for your Tuesday morning shift.

“Worse, I ate like whole cake last night,” you answer gravely.

The elderly woman laughed, a glint of fangs being shown in the overhead light’s glow. She used to be a grade 2 sorcerers who used cursed energy to manipulate her body. She could grow fangs, claws, bone spurs, and anything else she could use to tear a curse apart. The only evidence of her past profession can be seen in her sharp canines and pointed, bony fingers.

“Then you get to be on reshelving duty. I’ll have someone cover the front desk,” she says pointing one of her thin fingers at your chest.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Reshelving is a task you are used to and do not really mind as it affords you the luxury of reading materials without going through the pesky process of filling out a form and then waiting for a student worker like yourself to pull it.

Plus, this gave you unsupervised and unlimited access to the restricted Noritoshi collection, two long shelves tucked away in a back corner of the library. Because the collection was once in possession of such an infamous sorcerer, many patrons did not like to be seen researching the maternal. Besides to even be granted access to the collection one would have to have the head Liberians permission. Orrrr, one could just be a student worker and just happen to cross by while on her way to shelve books and happen to take a gander.

Professor Sukuna has briefly mentioned the name of an author who was one of the first sorcerers who studied incantation. After some digging around in the library's online database you managed to find the one book the university had of the author’s

After you clear a cart worth of books you take a small break and slip off to the Noritoshi collection. Your docs make a soft thud against the wooden floors as you take one step at a time. such an old floor creaks under your weight in certain spots as you move along the row. Right between 234.5 and 234.7 where the small booklet should be safely shelved there in an empty spot.

Your stomach drops. Of the few patrons out in the open reading room, none of them had requested anything to be pulled from this collection and because this was a special branch of the university’s library system no one was allowed to check out a book from here. You feel cold but flushed. Panicked. You immediately think that this was your fault. That you got the numbers mixed up again.

you make your way back to the L-shaped front desk where another student worker is typing away at their laptop. When things were as slow as they were today you all could work on classwork or at least look like you are.

“Make you all look busy,” the head librarian expiated back during your freshman year.

“Umm, Hey.”

You are met with a board star, “What?”

“We’re missing a book from the Noritoshi Collecting,” you supply.

“So?” they scrunch their button nose as if you just asked the most bothersome question.

“So,” you are crossing your arms. “that’s not a good thing.

“Then go ask the old lady, it’s probably just missed filed.”

God, I hate freshmen.

And that is exactly what you do because since you do a majority of the reshelving the thought that you were the one that misfiled the book gnaws at your gut makes the need to correct it grow.

The door to her office which was on the other side of the reading room was closed meaning that she was with someone at the moment so you had to wait.

You have worked yourself into such a knot that you nearly jump out of your skin when the office door finally opens. At first, you mistake the polite-looking person who steps out as a Gojo, but no Gojo would dare dye the snow-white hair with a splash of red or grow it out to a bob.

“Oh,” they smile at you with a hint of spores in their voice, “So you Y/N.”

“Um-“ you noticed the book help to the person's slick dress shirt and your mind short citrus with relief. So, you had not misfiled it. Thank God. “Y-yes. Did the head Liberian tell you?”

Said elderly woman walking bout behind them and scoffs, “You ain’t got no business in our meeting.”

“Sukuna has mentioned you,” they supply.

“Oh?” something warm makes your heart pump faster.

“What do you want?” the head librarian demands.

“Oh! I was just concerned that a book from the Noritoshi collection but I see that it was just pulled, sorry I should have checked the pulled forms from this-“

“I’m actually checking this out for Lord Sukuna.”

You have to put on your best helpful smile and pay very close to your tone when you ask, “I’m sorry, checking out?”

The stranger hums in confirmation, “Yes he has special permission to do so.”

He has what. When? Does he even use it? why now-oh that son of a bitch!

“Well now that you can see the damn thing is safe and sound get back to shelving, the head Liberian order and you have to agree. But you swear you see the white and red-haired stranger pressing their lips together like they are trying to suppress a giggle.

---

When you finally get off you are still fuming. It was not even that Sukuan had checked out the book you wanted to look at for your next essay. It was more of an accumulation if things had been piling up way before the semester started. This was just the unassuming crack that broke the damn.

The walk from the Curse Collections to Sukuna’s office is a short one because of you fast you are walking. Your mind can barely keep up with you and your blood boiling.

You were just fed up with no one telling you anything, everything seeing you as weak, everyone having already made up their mind that you would either drop out or die before graduation, and people like Sukuna taking away your education.

You do not notice the few odd looks you get as you storm through the first floor of the library then up two flights of stairs and finally down the empty hallway where Sukuna’s office is.

Your mind still clouded by anger has not quite caught up to you as you barge into his office without knocking. You did not even check if he had office hours today.

“What the hell was that?”

Sukuan actually looks like you managed to catch him off guard. He knew his plan would work, but he did not expect you to be so red, sweaty, and out of breath as anger sparks in your eyes. He calms himself before you notice.

Taking his silence as more of an insult you go on, “You wanted me back in your office so bad you took that book, which could and probably will affect my grade on your essay? Are you expecting to hold that book if I make a lesser grade? What? Do you think I’m not cut out for the program? Do you think I’m too weak to know about work or curses? This is real low for some ‘King’.”

Sukuna’s face remains calm and impassive as he simply commends,” Calm. down.”

And that is all it takes for all that bite and bravado to just, poof.

Fuck. shit. I’m going to die. He’s gonna eat me.

Sukuna feels somewhat pleased. He takes a good look at your form standing in front of the closed office door. A trembling little thing in that long skirt and your maroon button-up blouse.

“Oh? What happened to all that bite ?” he teased. “You practically shaking with your tail tucked between your legs now lie a puppy.”

“I’m just- people have just been –“ you bumble to form a complete sentence, “I didn’t know you could just check out books.”

Sukuan hums like the privilege was a boring subject, “It’s one for their little attempts to keep me in line.”

“Oh,” is all you can come up with.

“Now,” he leans his formers against the top of the desk. The way his sleeves are rolled up escapes your notice as you watch him lick his lips.

Oh god, what if he actually wants to eat me?

“I’ll excuse your huffiness, but I will not excuse this noting that I feel so threatened by you to stoop to such means. I merely wanted you to hear because you keep cowering away from your arousal.

You have nothing to say back because he is right. You feel shameful for lusting after your professor like this. For feeling so horny for a curse, the King of curses. So instead of opening your mouth and saying something stupid you take a seat across from Sukuna’s desk.

“I’m glad, “ you begin,” that you would never do that. They are people who already think I’m stepping with you to pass this class and hate it because it is undermining all the work I put in. “

Sukuna stay silent while you gather your thoughts.

“And, If the higher-ups found out I was sleeping with one of my professors that’s all the excuse they need to kick me out of the program. I’m sure there already not happy with such a low grade like me in a program with limited spots.”

Sukuna took some stock of that. These damn modern times made things so much more complicated, but mostly he points out, “So you do want me.”

Your mouth opens then shut then opens again. Sukuna must find the way you mimic a fish out of water funny because a low chuckle rumbles from his broad chest.

The curse likes you like this/ Just like he likes you in any way that is near him.

“Hey! This book is centuries old, you can't just toss it around like that,” you scold the curse without thinking.

“Read what you like then we will talk,” Sukuan tells you, his attention already on a few ungraded papers at the edge of his desk.

You still feel the urge to argue but think better of it. You were already behind schedule because he had Uraume take the book before you could have a look at it.

Sukuna picks up an ink pen and pretends to grade a paper. He watched as you rifle through your book bad for a notebook and pen. You are skin the pages before returning to a certain section of the book while jotting down notes. It occurs to him that he has never seen you use a laptop or tablet in class. Instead choosing to use that notebook to franticly write down all your notes. This observation is filed away for later because all he can think about is finally having your soft fleshed seated in front of him and all for himself.

Once you are done you put your things back into your book bag and return the book safely to Sukuna’s desk. You then take a step back, your body fidgeting, telling you that it is time to run away again.

“Stay there,” Sukuan orders sitting down his pen and rising to his feet.

You do as told again but only because the way the curse looks at you, like he wants to do more than eat you now, pins you in your place.

“My, my,” Sukuan slides between you and his desk. He towers over you and is so close you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. “So obedient…..or is it that you scared?”

“O-oh I am downright terrified right now.”

The smirk seems to widen, “Good that’s exactly how I want you.”

Oh, that is so hot to hear.

A pair of hands settle on your hips as Sukuna asks, “And what about me has you so scared?”

Feeling his fingers flex and your long skirt start to ride up with your legs you squeak, “Y-you look like you want to eat me.”

“I would love a taste,” Sukuna admits.

Your reaction is priceless. He wonders if you actually think he wants to eat you. he has tasted human flesh in the past but it was more so an intimidating tactic than actual substance. He gathers up more of your skirt the fabric now rising above your thighs.

The thought of you poring over texts of his past atrocities biting that bottom lip and learning all you could about him like he was your obsession runs through his mind. Cute. He thinks.

“ I’m going to make you fuck yourself on my fingers then lick them clean. So, hold your dress.”

For the first time since you stormed not his office, you do not obey his command. You just stare up at the curse who seems to not hold an ounce of shame for what he just said. And after a moment, neither do you.

Sukuan notices how it takes you a little longer but you do as told. With shaking fingers, you take your skirt from his hands. Sukuan wants you. He wanted to get you back in his office to do unholy things to you, not because he thought it was too weak to be here.

“That’s good,” his light praise sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

Sukuna brushes his knuckles across your inner thigh. They are just as he fantasizes they would be. Smooth, warm, and pliable. Your skin will be so easy to bruise and you would probably love his marks here where you can easily hide them.

You barely register spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate the back of your professor’s hand.

“Eager to aren’t ya?” he teases.

You look up at him, and oh what sight you are! Flush cheeks and needy eyes. “I feel like either answer I give will result in more teasing.”

“Think you’re so smart,” He meanly pinches the vulnerable flesh, “But I want an honest answer. Do you want this?”

Oh, you feel stupid for not expecting that for the King of Curses to ask for consent. Something warm drips from your stomach to your pussy. For such a powerful and dark being with a reputation for being ruthless and cold, the notion of asking for consent makes you feel safe and special.

Sukuna tells himself that he only asks to get you to come back for more even if the question came out before he even thought of the idea.

You nod,” I want you to touch me.”

Sukuan knuckle slides further up. His eyes darken as his knuckles press into the damp spot in your silk panties. You were already gone for him. He wonders just when that happens. Was it when he commanded you to calm down? Or, when he told you how he wants to make you cum from his fingers?

“You wet already,” he comments making your cheeks burn, “I guess you don’t have to tell me how eager you are. Your body does that for you.”

Sukuan presses the pads of fingers into the spot and rubs small, quick circles. You feel a tremor of pleasure rocket through you. That felt good. Such a small action over your panties makes you gush. You are done for. The curse has barely done anything and you already losing it.

“o-oh,” you moan

“Feels good?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can do it yourself now,” His fingers are still and you have to bite back a groan.

You attempt to do as told, rolling your hips against his finger. The friction is there, but you just can't seem to move the right way. You pout, so close to letting out a wine because it is not right. You are not enough to get you off like Sukuan was doing and he can see this.

He finds this cute too. It is an obvious fact you do not know what you are doing and what that means. Sukuan has found himself a cute human whose a genius, someone worth his time, who captures his attention, and who makes his dick hard. He can feel the wetness seeping through your panties and spreading over his fingertips.

“Are you fond of these?”

“ Not re-really I guess? They are an old pair, but I can jus-oh fuck!”

You lean into him needing something firm. Your legs feel shaky You can feel the dark chuckle that rumbled from Sukuna’s chest. He ripped your paints! The quickness and strength that Sukuan possessed to rip the fabric so cleanly from his body like nothing was exciting. You only register that they had been torn off by the ripping sound and the cool air against your bare pussy.

Sukuna tucks the ruined pair into his back pocket for later then retunes his eager fingers to between your spread thighs. You feel two digits thicker than your own slip easily between your folds. You're so wet right now Sukuan has no trouble sliding his fingers around your inner lips, teasing you by stroking over your entrance.

With his other hand, he grabs it tightly, forcing you to look up at him while holding your skirt up. You make a pathetic little sound that goes straight to his dick already staring against the zipper of his slacks.

You can feel his hold is not tight enough to hurt or leave marks, but firm enough to keep your head in place staring up at him.

“You a messy one aren’t ya?”

“Y-yes?”

You really did not know. You have never gotten this wet before even while masturbating

Oh my god, have I been doing it wrong?

Or was it just Sukuna, his dark presence, his calloused fingers, and the hungry way he looked at you?

He laughs at you,” What? No one ever touched this sloppy cunt?”

When you advert your eyes Sukuan swears he feels his cock jump. His voice turns serious base he has to know,” Tell me y/n, who has touched you here before me?”

“M-me?”

He meanly pinches your clit making you cry and shift your hips.

“Yes me, the one who is making you look like some wanton whore. I want to know before me.”

“N-no,” you let. breath as he eased the pressure off. “I mean me…I’ve been the only one to touch myself.”

Oh, yes, Is Sukuna’s gleeful thought.

“Really now? Look at me.”

His demand brings your eyes back to his.

Sukuna watched every little detail of your face as he pushed two fingers into you. Your eyes go wide and your mind fills with nothing but an obscene pleasure as you feel Sukuan slip inside you and then stretch his finger out like the tightness was nothing to him.

It burns, but not in a bad way like that one time, brain fogged by lust, you try to fit your vibrator and the end of a push inside you at the same time. It feels so good, so good. Like an itch, you never even knew needed to be scratched and scratched hard. Because your hands are full you have nothing to hang onto, nothing to steady yourself.

Luckily Sukuna’s firm body I there for you to fall into. Sukuna then curls his fingers and draws a moan from the little sorceress who catches his eyes. He is suspired how much he’s enjoying seeing you like this. Your body pressed up against his means that there is no way you cannot feel how hard he is right now.

Sukuan said he expected you to fuck yourself, but that was before he knew how novice you are. So, he graciously does it himself. With your face still craned up look at him with dilated and needy as the curse begins to move his finger in and out of you.

And holy shit, just when you think you have gotten used to the pleasure Sukuna does something to cause any new wave to come over you. In the back of your mind, you wonder how he was so good at this but you are too far gone under his touch to care.

Sukuna moved his hands to grip the back of your neck. He smiles at you like this languid pace is a gift. It is almost too serene.

“It feels good?”

You nod, “Yes, s-so good.”

“I’ve barely even done anything yet. Be ashamed if I stop now would it?”

You feel your stomach drops even though he does not stop moving his fingers in those sinful motions.

“Pl-please don’t, “ you plea. “Please don’t stop, not now when it feels good. “

“Then you better get to moving those hips again.”

A small whimper escapes your lips as the playful threat. You know he is serious. The gleam in his red eyes tells you so and just the thought of having this pleasure taken away for you has you shyly rolling your hips. Sukuna is graciously patient with you. He keeps his pace steady and lets you find a rhythm that makes you see stars.

It was worth hearing his name come from your mouth, breathless and wanton. There was no looking away from the cursed dark and hungry gaze. The firm hand at the nape makes sure of that. You can’t see what Sukuan is so enraptured in but you know your cheeks must be as red as a tomato.

You were enthralled by the King Of curses. His dark need for you, the clever ploys to get you alone in his office, and this respect he holds for you when other would never even give you the time of day make you feel so special.

“God feels so good,” you huff.

Sukuna laughs, “God has nothing to do with this. Just me playing with this dripping cunt and watching how I’m the one making you come undone like this.”

“Sukuna I need more, please.” You ask but should have known it would not be that simple.

“More?” he lulls his head to one side, “Are you not pleased with what I’m doing already? That’s a pretty ungrateful brat.”

“n-no! I just neehhh- need more.”

“More what exactly.”

“I-I need you to do more.”

Sukuan was having too much fun with you. “If you aren’t going use your words brat I will stop and I can already tell you won’t ever be able to make yourself feel like this.”

“More everything!” you wine bucking your hips,” I wanna feel you deeper, and faster, and harder. Please. I wanna cum but it’s not e-enough, fuck.”

Sukuan can get used to hearing your plea like that. He can’t wait to see how far he can push you till you snot your nose and cry. But for now, this will have to do while in the confines of his office.

“Like this?”

You cry curse, and even thank Sukuan as he jackhammers his into so deep his palms grange done against your clit. The sudden change should be jarring but something about the way Sukuna gives you exactly what you wanted and more that you did not even know you needed has you moans louder. If any student were in the empty hall outside they would surely hear the loud noise emitting from the professor's office.

“Shit, your cunts really clamping down on me y/n.”

“Sukuna, Sukuna, agh, fuuuuck ” Your hips freeze and you let the curse ram his fingers inside you since there was no way you could keep up with him.

“That’s y/n, keep saying my name like it is. God damn prayer. Fucking love, the sound of you and the sloppy pussy like this. Making such Lovely noises just for you professor.”

The reminder that this is not just the King of Curses finger fucking you but your professor, in his own office, that sends you over the edge. Sukuna does not look away as your walls convulsive around his fingers. Your eyes roll back, then flutter close. You most hangs open and the only the only sound to come out is a choked moan.

surely would have fallen over.

Sukuna keeps working you through your blissful orgasm only pulling his fingers out when your quick breathing slows.

His form grip on the back of your neck is still there as you blink on your eyes. It is just in time to see him licking his two fingers that gleaming with your wetness clean.

Was it possible for you to feel any redder and wetter?

“Now open your mouth.”

Your lips part and Sukuna bends down meeting your mouth his. Whatever smell you try to make is stopped in the back of your though as Sukuna moves his tongue against yours. you only let go of you skirt when you need to breath. All it takes for Sukuna to pull away and let you catch your breath or a small push against his chest.

“Y-you hard,” you state the obvious.

“We can take care of that later,” Sukuna says before pulling you into another open-mouth kiss.

#sukuna #privet stacks #jjk #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #mei mei

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e-dubbc11 · 2 days ago

Note

for the november rain thingy I would love to request the faaabulous song by 3 doors down 'landing in london' and my fave boy billy <3

My sweet Selene, while I was listening to this song, I felt compelled to write this fic from Billy’s POV. I hope that’s ok!

Thank you my friend for sending in your asks and for being so supportive, for reading and sharing my fics and for being a great friend. ♥️

Always A Yes

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, couple of swear words, smooches

Word Count: 1.6K-ish

Summary: Told from Billy’s POV. He realizes there’s more to life than just work and doesn’t want to lose you but is he too late?

A/N: As stated above, this is based off of the song Landing in London by 3 Doors Down. I’ll link it at the end.

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

She was the first one…and only one.

The first one who understood you, who showed you any genuine affection, the one you finally let see who you really are. And she was so…accepting.

It was an instant attraction when she walked into that bookstore, shaking the plump raindrops off of her umbrella, and revealing her beautiful eyes to you from beneath the hood of her raincoat.

She was almost disappointed that she had finally reached her destination. It meant she couldn’t walk in the rain anymore which was so pure in your eyes, like a child not wanting to get out of the pool because they were having too much fun.

But you wouldn’t know anything about that. The closest you ever came to a pool as a kid was the city flushing the fire hydrants on a hot summer day but that’s what you imagined she felt like after enjoying that walk in the rain.

She caught you staring, playfully scolded you for not wearing rain boots, and the rest is history.

She never judged you for the bad things you had done. It was the first time you had told anyone other than Frankie about her or him, the first time you let anyone in, the first time you…bared your soul.

It all made sense to her now…why you always had to be in control.

Slowly, she moved her hand from her lap and held it in the air before asking you, “May I touch you, Billy? I’ll understand if you say ‘no.’”

“It’s always a ‘yes’ with you, sweet girl.” You had told her.

Her fingertips touched the side of your head, her nails tenderly scratched your scalp, and brushed the back of your neck. Those touches were what you had craved ever since you were a kid, they were loving but not in a patronizing way or in a way where she pitied you. She touched you like you deserved it and she told you so.

“You deserve to be loved, Billy.” She had said with a warm smile.

The path you had been on before she came into your life just led to pain. You had gone through life fighting so many inner demons, thinking that you didn’t deserve love, that it was just a curse, and all the pain you’ve received was warranted.

She thought differently.

That’s why you hated to be away from her but you did have a business to run which took you all over the country and even all over the world.

You always felt terrible after lashing out at her. She didn’t deserve that. All she wanted was…you. And she understood you had a job to do, it just took you away from her more often than either one of you wanted it to.

You always promised to make it up to her with whatever she wanted but again, all she wanted was you. And during those longer business trips, the thought of her waiting for you back home was the only thing that brought a smile to your face.

Frankie always called you out on your bullshit.

“You found her, Bill. Don’t fuck it up.” He scolded.

She was never afraid to push back either which was another reason you loved her so much.

“Keep pushing me away, Billy and there'll be a day where you come home and I won’t be here!” She yelled.

That’s the last thing you wanted so you couldn’t lose her. You loved her and wanted her, forever.

Normally, you were calm and in control but on the flight home from London you were nervous and extremely anxious. Your thoughts were scattered like dandelion seeds after a gust of wind. Was she still upset after this last minute trip? She said she wasn’t but she didn’t answer your text this morning which you hated and she knew you hated it when she didn’t answer. She did it to push your buttons when you were being an asshole.

She normally met you at the airport, always so happy to see you, but after you picked up your bag, you looked around and didn’t see her smiling face.

“You have a good trip, handsome?” She always asked.

It never failed. She always asked about your day, your trip, if the coffee house was busy, and always noticed when you bought a new tie. She loved you, flaws and all. She loved you.

“Shit.” You said out loud, frantically looking around for her.

Glancing at your phone, you noticed she hadn’t even read your message from this morning and it scared you to think that this could have been what pushed her away for good.

Hustling outside with your bags, you figured you’d catch an Uber and head for home. Maybe she was waiting for you there.

When you looked up from your phone, there she was, with her beautiful smile and holding a sign at her waist that read, “Mr. Russo.”

Dropping your bags at your feet, you rushed over to her and squeezed her until you heard her gasp for air.

“You’re here.” You said, trying to catch your breath.

She smiled against your chest.

“Of course I’m here, baby. How was your trip, handsome?” She asked, kissing you on the cheek.

“I don’t wanna talk about that right now. I need to tell you something.” You said.

Confused, she replied, “Oh…ok. What is it, Billy? Are you alright?”

“I won’t be if I lose you. I can’t lose you, y/n!” You said.

She saw the look in your eyes. It took you back to when you were that scared little boy, standing all alone on the steps of that fire station, wondering if she was ever coming back. And flashing forward a handful of years later in the group home, realizing that she wasn’t coming back. You never wanted to feel that way again and you finally found someone who always wanted you, good times and bad.

She grazed your beard with her thumbs as she looked into your frightened eyes and said, “Hey…hey…hey…you’re not gonna lose me, Billy. I love you.”

Reaching into your jacket pocket, you said, “I’ve been carrying this around for weeks, going over in my mind of what I wanted to say but all I could come up with is that I wanna marry you.”

Periodically, during your travels, you would reach into your pocket to make sure the black velvet box was still there. The soft fabric was comforting and after a long day of meetings or staring at a computer screen, you’d open the box, stare at the beautiful diamond ring inside and pictured her saying yes.

It scared you to even think about her saying no.

You were doing something you never thought you would do. You were making yourself vulnerable, opening up, letting someone in…in every way possible.

On one knee, not caring about if your suit pants would be ruined or not, you slowly pulled back the top to the box revealing the sparkling oval shaped diamond inside.

Although shocked, she still kept her composure and firmly said, “Then ask me, Billy.”

She smiled as tears welled up in her eyes, you knew her answer already but you did as she asked anyway. She deserved that.

“Will you marry me, sweet girl?” You asked, holding the ring in front of you and in front of a crowd of people that had gathered outside.

She kneeled down in front of you, snaked her arms around your neck, and replied, “Yes baby, I will marry you. It’s always a ‘yes’ with you, Billy.”

The people all around you clapped, whistled, and cheered as you slipped the ring onto her finger and pulled her flush to your chest. You had missed the gentle scratches on the back of your neck, her nails raking against your scalp, and when she hummed against your chest after being away from her, even if it was just for a short period of time.

Smiling against her hair, a familiar scent invaded your sense of smell. It wasn’t her normal perfume, it was your cologne which made your stomach flutter just like the first time you saw her as she came in from the rain.

“You wearing my cologne, beautiful?” You asked.

She pulled away from your chest with a sly smile on her face and replied, “It makes me feel close to you when you’re away. Is that…ok?”

She looked up at you through her long, dark lashes and bit down on her bottom lip.

Closing the gap between your bodies, you leaned in and gently pressed your lips to hers. Her lip balm tasted sweet like salted caramel, she knew that was your favorite one, and you felt her melt into your kiss.

“Always.” You said, pulling away slightly to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I love you too.”

You don’t know how long you stayed there, on your knees in crisp early winter air. You held her in your embrace until you couldn’t feel your fingers or your toes anymore, you held her until she stopped shivering, and until everyone around you dispersed.

Old habits are hard to break. But from that moment on, you silently made a promise to her that you would try your hardest to never push her away, listen to her, and vehemently love her until you take your last breath.

Because she was the first, she was the first and only one to give you a real chance, and she was the only one to say yes…to always.

And when the night falls in around me

And I don't think I'll make it through

I'll use your light to guide the way

'Cause all I think about is you

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @ittybxttykxttytxtty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads @jediwizardelf @thejanecampaign @folkloreofyennefer @milea @mysweetlittledesire

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n #ericca answers #ericca’s 500 follower celebration

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whumpsoda · 3 days ago

Text

Coming Back To Bite You, Part 4 - Caught in Her Web

Masterlist

cw: hypnosis, vampire whumper, coarse language, emeto

——————

Marshall hummed, a sort of sound of agreement. He didn’t really know what he was agreeing to, possibly the buzz in the back of his mind, but couldn’t reach enough of himself to decipher it. Not that he could really care at the moment, mind swirling in circles along with the fingers on his temples.

He was floating, gently dancing through the wind of his head like a cloud. His limbs were somehow numbed, disconnected from the rest of his body. All Marshall could feel was the flutter of his eyelids and the grunt of his voice, echoing beyond the emptiness.

Someone was speaking, and he recognized it, clawing out for it. The voice was smooth and kind, something he was unable to make sense of. His face scrunched, wriggling his body awake.

The buzzing grew clearer and clearer, and so did his mind with it. “And up, up, up.”

A gasp, sharp, slipped out from his lips, eyes falling wide. “Get-,” Marshall shot up, rushing out from his spot the vampire’s lap, brain dashing back to it’s full power. “Offa’ me!”

She rolled her eyes, as if she had the right to be irritated. “Okay, dear. No need to shout. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.” Putting her arms up, she held them in the typical stance to say I won’t hurt you.

“Yeah, sure. Like I’d believe you after-,” the memories slapped him across the face, and he hung his head. A flame lit in his chest, toiling around the lump in his throat. “You-,” fucker.

“You-,”

The word wasn’t coming out. It was hanging there, right in his mouth, on the tip of his tongue, he just couldn’t push it into reality. Brows furrowing, Marshall’s hands twisted over the fabric of the mittens into fists.

“You-!” He shrieked, the end sticking in his throat like a weight, heavy and sticky, unable to push any further. It was as if it was choking him, blocking air from getting around it.

And the vampire wasn’t speaking, her mouth was stuck in a firm smirk, like she was enjoying his confusion. At the same time, he heard her words.

You mustn’t call your betters by such foul names, my dear. I am your sir, and you will treat me as such.

“S- sorry. Sir.” He muttered, sheepishly.

Marshall clamped a hand over his mouth, unbridled shock plastered across his face. He just-

Apologized?

To her?

Shaking, overtaken by fury, he sipped in a quivering breath. Again, stopped by the strength of chains, he was prevented from tearing her face right off with his teeth. All he was really able to manage was a rippling snarl.

He had called her sir, sliding right over his teeth like an instinct. The bile was bubbling, growling up from his tummy.

“It’s alright, dear.” She cooed, swift and nimble motions grazing his cheeks. “Oh, surprised?” She was taunting him. He grit his teeth. “I may have done just a little bit of quality control while you were under. Just enough to keep you from calling me names, and establishing my title.”

“You-,” he spat, voice trembling. “Um, you-!” The words were piling up in his mind, vile curses, but none of it was breaking through her blockade. It just couldn’t.

“As much as you try,” she started, eyes sweet and glittery, catching him in them, “you won’t be able to get around it. I know that must be scary, but you must accept it.”

“I-,” he sputtered, before he hardened. “Let me go! Let me out!” Shrieking, he fought his very best with the restraints, diving at her.

“Goodness, me.” She scoffed, pushing herself to her feet as he slipped around the wooded flooring of her bedroom, growling and squealing demands. “You really aren’t the smartest, are you? I suppose that only makes my job easier, though, so I should be thankful.”

“Anyways, I want to have a little talk, if you would humor me.” She crouched back to a kneel, a safe distance to where he couldn’t reach her, gracefully keeping her skirt in place. “My name is Evangeline, although you may call me sir, and for the time being I will be your vampire owner.”

He scoffed. “Like hell you will.”

“Oh, you will see, dear. Once under enthrallment you’ve already proved to be very polite and willing. I’d be surprised that you were still up for grabs if you weren’t a hunter. But that didn’t last long, did it?”

Five years. Five years, which seemed like a mere blink of the eye for a vampire.

“I want you to be comfortable here, and I can assure you, if you stop fighting me and just accept it, you will be.”

“Go-!” Fuck yourself! Again, nothing came out, throat shriveling up in a second. He roared nonsense at her, wriggling helplessly at the chains.

Evangeline shook her head. “If that’s how you want to be, then I will simply have to change that.” With the clap of her hands, her sired were back to surrounding them. “Ladies, please escort him back to his enclosure. I think we’re done here.” Crouching above him, she gifted him a little, delighted smile, before pressing a finger to his forehead. Fuck. “And, a little something to keep him complacent on the way.”

When Marshall came to, tired eyelids creaking open, he was walking through the tallest, widest hallway he’d ever seen in his life. Gold encrusted candles littered the walls, keeping it lit as he followed behind the vampire’s sireds. One of them, the one in front of the group, held the end of his chain, guiding his body along on autopilot.

His feet, bare and chilly, followed along dutifully beyond his own accord. Every couple steps they tripped over each other, and a yank on his chain was the only thing to bring him back to obedience.

He needed out, and fast. She already had him calling her sir, what could she have him doing in one more session of conditioning?

Marshall didn’t even want to think about it.

He did his very best to imitate being entranced, although a part of him still was, drowsiness pulling at him like gravity. Scanning the walls for anything to aid him in an escape, he lit up.

A door, humongous and made of dark wood stood between Marshall and the outdoors, between him and freedom.

A breath in, a breath out.

A yank on the chains with all of his might took them right out from the vampire’s grip. The closest vampire, looking to him in shock, was clocked to the floor by his two fists and connecting cuffs, allowing him his very own chance at freedom.

He wasn’t exactly the fastest around, but he managed, even with a fucked up knee. That was until he reached the door, and realized no one was so much as chasing after him. His brows furrowed, slowing down as he reached for the door handle.

His legs ceased any and all movement, right then and there.

Marshall could still reach the door handle, going right for it, before his arm stopped as well, unable to move any further.

And his head-

Marshall lurched forward, gagging on an oncoming of burning bile, bitterness washing ip his throat.

“You are already proving to be a real pain in my ass, you know that?” Evangeline called, stepping up behind him.

He had to get out, he had to get out-

But-

Keeling over, grabbing at his belly, Marshall was unable to handle the searing pain splitting his head in two. What was going on? He managed a weak, shaking laugh, loud and sharp, spit flying at her high heeled boots. “Good.”

“Listen to me.” She hissed, gaze glowing with enthrallment, calling him to her gaze and trapping him in it. “You are a pet as much as you are a food source for us, for vampires as a whole. That is what you are made to be, that is what you were put on this Earth to do.”

“I’m not-,” his fight was melting, just as his mind was under her control. “Not… not a… pet…” jaw losing the fight, a dribble of drool peeked out from the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, why don’t you look at that. All of this talk of lives and futures seems to cease once you’re under even just a smidge of enthrallment, doesn’t it? That is because you are merely a lost soul requiring a vampire’s guidance. None of you are fit to live on your own, to make decisions.” She cupped his face, and the thought of biting at her vanished in an instant, in favor of her swirling bliss. “You all fight for the lives you want to keep, that only make you sad and unhappy creatures. That is why I do what I do, dear. To give you the help you need.”

“H… help…?” Innocence scrawled over his features, and he looked to her with a hopeful glint in his eye.

“Yes, my dear.”

Her fingers dipped into the delve of his temple, bringing his eye to a falling flutter. “Need… help…” he mumbled, with the last of his consciousness, before slipping his mind back to sleep.

——————

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