#she has no power over me. but the fucking anger I have over her is immense.

[ariannag6-blog]

Enji in bed 18+ MDNI

How would Enji be in bed? Post+pre atonement arc. Here’s what I think.

I think how he would be sexually before and after his “atonement arc” would contrast each other quite a bit.

Reader notes:

2k words. Not an experienced writer just have lots of creative thoughts I must get out of my overfilled brain.

Warning. My pre atonement Enji headcannon is rough and aggressive obviously so please do not read this if it will upset you. Post atonement I actually think he’d be quite sweet. Feel free to just skip to the post atonement arc Enji part if you prefer.

You can find all my Enji stories under the hashtag EnjiAria

During marrige-pre atonement:

Kinks. He most definitely probably has breeding kink and is rough. Definitely also has a “daddy”or “yes sir” name calling kink. He probably likes degrading his partner a bit in bed as well. Has a dacryphilia kink. Power imbalance kink. During his younger years/before his marriage becomes estranged he likes degrading.

Enji never liked to show his anger outside of his own home. He would often come home with pent up anger from his hero work and needed someone to take it out on. He usually liked relieving his stress sexually with Rei. Enji likes to start out being rough, then make you cum, then end with roughness again. He’ll start out fucking her roughly, not letting her have time to adjust to his length or girth, hearing her scream as he thrusted too fast and too deep for her. Pressing down on her back (if she was on her stomach) or hips (if she was on her back) to hold her in place. Watching tears form as she desperately tried to take him. He basked in her pain. He was also very experienced and always knew how to make a woman finish. Though it is no lie he does like quite a bit of pain and aggression he will never finish a session without making his partner cum. If they don’t cum he’ll get angry and threaten punishment such as relentless face fucking or anal. After he can tell she’s submitted to him by letting him roughy have his way with their hole he’ll reward his partner with an orgasm. He’s good with his fingers. He’ll still pound into his partner roughly but use his fingers to trace circles over your clit to make you cum. He doesn’t go gently, he works at a rough pace with pressure. He loves overstimulating his woman. He wants you to cum fast. As you cum he likes to grab your throat and make you tell him who your pussy belongs to, who your body belongs to, who owns you. Once you’ve finished he picks back up his pace. Balls deep slapping against you relentlessly. He’ll continue this pace, slap your ass and pull your hair until he finishes. As he fills you up he’ll tell you how perfect you are to breed. Once he finishes he’ll leave you there on the bed and go about his day with less stress now.

His dirty talk pre atonement era:

“You look so good carrying my children, it shows me who you belong to. You belong to me.”

“Take it, I’m going to keep giving you babies over and over again until your body breaks.”

“Crying already? You say you can’t take it but you always end up cumming so hard from this. You’re so filthy. You love it when I show you who you belong to don’t you.”

“That’s it, take it. Rip that cunt open on my cock. Let me breed you.”

“You’re such a worthless whore the least you can do is give me this.”

“I always love breaking you in.”

“Shh stop screaming it’ll only make daddy go harder.”

“If you don’t cum on me right now I’ll fuck your other hole and I’m not talking about your throat sweetheart.”

“You should thank me for getting you pregnant”

Outside of the sex he still liked intimidating his wife. Making sure she knew where she stood. Gripping her arm tightly when she displeased him. Not allowing her to leave the house or wear certain clothing. Watching her obey him out of fear turned him on. It always made him hard and she knew it. She could see it. (Later in life he definitely regrets enjoying that.)

Though he was not a good person in his younger years I don’t see him cheating at all oddly. I think he would be loyal and use his wife for sex only. He seems old fashioned I don’t think he would use toys for himself or for his partner. At most he might like tying her hands or her mouth with his work tie. He would also probably forbid his wife from touching herself sexually, wanting himself to be the only one to give her pleasure or pain. He wanted this for a few reasons, he was possessive and insecure she wasn’t allowed to think of anything but him. He also wanted her to always be able to get wet easily whenever he needed to relieve stress, get off, or breed her, he feared if she pleasured herself on her own she wouldn’t be able to take him as easily. If he ever found out she touched herself he punished her by bending her over his knee and spanking until she was in tears. Then making her get on her knees to apologize profusely before ordering her to suck him dry.

Hear me out…I’m so sorry but I feel like he’s obsessed with receiving rimming. Especially when he’s too exhausted to do too much to you. He would love just laying back gripping his fingers in your hair guiding your tongue over his ass while his legs are spread open. Or closing his thighs berrying your face in him causing you to go deeper into his ass.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Post atonement era Enji:

First off he most definitely immediately got divorced. He felt immense regret for how he treated his wife and wants her free from him. He still holds love for her. He was never in love with her but he wants her to be happy he can’t move on and grow if they are still together either he fears it would make him revert back to his old ways. He built a new home for Rei and his kids to live in. He has as little contact with them as possible for their own sakes. He does his best to continue his growth in every way he can..including sexual.

Outside of marriage after the divorce Enji is gentle, sweet, no breeding kink but still very dominate.

Kinks. Praising, overstimulation.

Dacryphilia kink. (From pleasure not pain)

Caretaking/caregiving. Daddy kink.(not age play just likes taking care of you. By daddy kink I mean the name calling again not age play.)

His type. To me he doesn’t have a spesific type but prefers women smaller than him, tan skin, small or average chest, long hair. Being smaller than him Isn’t hard bc he’s big so almost everyone is smaller than him. If not that exact description he at the very least just prefers women with long soft hair. I could see him taking a liking to both submissive and dominate women but would prefer someone who’s a submissive bottom. Though he doesn’t like being as aggressive in the bedroom anymore he prefers to be the one doing all the work, the one pleasing his woman.

He does not want you to do anything to him. Sucking his dick, rimming, trying to make him come if you’re already finished. He wants everything to be about you. If you want to suck his dick or more you’ll have to beg him. He’ll allow it but only if he can see that you’re getting just as much or more enjoyment out of it than him.

He has deep regrets for how rough he was with Rei’s body. As a way to atone for that in his mind he wants to treat his current partner gently. He’s insecure he doesn’t know his own strength in bed, he’s not used to being gentle. Has to have you watching him at all times especially when he’s eating you out he needs to see your face to make sure he’s going a good enough of a job. He needs your approval constantly weather that be through words, moans of pleasure, or your eyes, anything to let him know he’s giving you nothing but pleasure. He would grow to be quite the pleasure dom in his old age. He needs you to cum constantly. He will always make you cum first. He LOVES overstimulating you, making you cum over and over again until you tell him it’s too much. He feels as though he doesn’t deserve to cum after everything he’s done. He would much rather make you cum, it’s enough to satisfy him mentally. Physically that’s a different story. But I do see him liking not finishing. It makes him feel like he’s edging himself and being good for not cuming because it should all be about you anyways.

I see him being with someone quite inexperienced who often can’t handle him going very long or deep so he’ll often not finish. He doesn’t want to finish by himself as he feels like it’s disrespectful to you so he’ll constantly edge himself for days from watching you feel pleasure until he’s finally at his breaking point and can finish as fast as you. He’ll still always make you cum first though.

After his divorce he immediately got a vasectomy he’s too scared of ever having kids again. He still loves filling you with his cum. He’s never used condoms and doesn’t like them. If you want kids he’ll decline but he will roleplay breeding you if you want.

Though he wants to be more gentle now he’s still slightly kinky. He still loves name calling “yes sir” “daddy”. He enjoys making you cry out of pleasure from cumming too much or out of pleasure from him being the first one to make you squirt. He loves light choking, gentle slaps, but nothing that will actually ever hurt you. He’s always constantly looking at your face to make sure you smirk or bite your lip after each slap to assure him that he didn’t go too rough. Dispite his fear that he’ll be too rough he’s actually is a lot more gentle with his partner than he realizes. His touches are so soft and gentle they wouldn’t so much as break an egg yolk. But because his partner is inexperienced they prefer this gentle edge to him. Being with someone inexperienced in my opinion would be a good fit. They wouldn’t push his limits by asking him to go rougher or trying kinkier things. He always fears loosing control and reverting back to his old self. Being with someone who needs him to always be slow and soft will keep him in place and help further his progress.

If his partner was a top he would allow you to have your way with him sometimes but ultimately at the end he would be right back on top of you fucking you on your back. I see him trying to be a bottom to please you but at the end of the day failing because being a top-dom is just in his nature.

Dirty talk post atonement:

“That’s it come on my fingers sweetheart I need to taste you after.”

“You taste so sweet. I can’t get enough. Think I can make you cum a 3rd time baby?”

“Shh let me do everything don’t you think about doing anything for me. Watching you cum is all I need I promise.”

“You feel so good wrapped around my cock sweetheart you’re spoiling daddy with this cunt.”

“Let me fill you up you deserve it after cumming so good for me sweetie.”

“Shh don’t worry daddy won’t go all the way in, I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll go easy. Gentle. I promise.”

“Look at me, keep your eyes on me or I’ll stop licking your pussy.”

“Tsk tsk sweetheart look at me if you want me to keep thrusting. I need to see it in your eyes that I’m doing good.”

“Is it too much? Tell me when you’ve had enough and I’ll stop.”

“Is this okay? Yeah sweetheart…right there? Like that?”

He would ask you not to touch yourself without him. He wouldn’t forbid it. He just wants you to come to him to feel pleasure. He would feel like he’s not doing enough if you feel like you have to use other methods to finish instead of waiting to use his body.

He’s old fashioned so he wouldn’t prefer using toys. Definitely not on himself. He wants you to be able to get you off with his body. Cock, fingers, tongue, nose tracing up and down your clit, anything. He would feel like he’s inadequate if he has to resort to toys to get you off. On the other hand if you wanted him to use toys on you or you using toys on him he wouldn’t decline. He’s wrapped around your finger he would basically do anything you asked no matter what it was.

Outside the bedroom. Preferred to be the provider. Enji loves to spoil you. He doesn’t want you to worry about anything, he has more money than he’s able to spend he would want to spend on you asking you to quit work and just do whatever you want. He wants to see you happy as much as he can. To be honest he does always tend to prefer a domestic relationship him being the provider and you being the homemaker but if he meets someone career oriented he will support them working. Just seeing you happy will turn him on mentally.

I don’t see him getting married again. If he got into another relationship he wouldn’t be expecting it or feel deserving of it. I think his next partner would be serious and life long (unless they ended it I couldn’t see him being the one to break it off) but at the end of the day he would be too worried getting married would make you feel trapped. Ending up being with him for the sake of ease instead of want. He wants you to constantly choose him everyday and not be forced to stay. It’ll reassure him that he’s still making progress.

[fantabulisticity]

The new Kesha album Gag Order ABSOLUTELY FUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've been listening to it on repeat the last several days. It's intense and heartbreaking and chaotic and disturbing and wistful and motivating. Listen to it when you have emotional space for it, but definitely listen to it.

[plusfuckingultra]

Now,

How.

How to address her.

A different kind of ache,

Of hurt.

The kind that I hate,

But thrive off of.

The kind I'm determined to move past,

Yet can't seem to rise above.

I smell her in the laundry sometimes,

In cheap dish soap.

I see her in the shows I watch,

And the anxiety they invoke.

It makes me weak.

You made me weak.

It makes me sick.

It made me sick.

You.

Make me sick.

[toastsnaffler]

SUDDENLY STARTED RAINING SO HARD WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK

[peachesofteal]

Cool girl

ghoap x female reader / 18+ warning: the boys are foul - could be considered dub con / part one / part two

Two (three) can play at that game.

"When you're done being a brat, call us."

You decide within a week, that you're very much not done being a brat.

And you're very much done with them.

Fuck them, you coach yourself in the mirror as you fix your makeup. Fuck them both. And her, whoever she is, though you know she doesn't deserve your wrath. She probably has no idea the tangled web she's walked into, she's the one stuck in the trap, now.

The doorbell rings, and you check your reflection one more time, satisfied with your dress, the way it gathers across your breasts, how it flatters your shape. It's a tad short, there's a bit of cleavage, little pieces that make it more than perfect. Something about this style, the way it fits, always drove the boys nuts, so it should be more than good enough for your date.

Fuck them.

You bring him to the dive. It's a safe choice, the bartender knows you, pays attention. You feel safe here, familiar. It's a great option for a first date.

And because you're a cool girl, you don't know how to play pool.

Of course, he's happy to teach you.

You start with a tequila. It scalds on the way down and settles like fire, but it takes the edge off. One turns to two, and it's enough to get you closer, allowing him to rest his hand on your knee at the bar, allowing him to keep a hand at the small of your back as he guides you to the finally empty pool table.

He's handsy, and normally, you'd be a little put off.

But not tonight.

"Okay, it's simple. You use the white ball to break." He lines up your shot for you, folding you into place, bending forward, hand brushing against your thigh as he leans beside you.

You intentionally short the shot, barely breaking the triangle of balls free. He chuckles. "Not bad for a first go."

"What do I get if I win?" Your smile is shy, and it's only half forced. You do like this guy, he's very nice, very attractive. Tall with a strong jawline, kind eyes. His fingers find yours, and his touch is gentle, patient.

"A kiss?" He ventures, testing the waters. You nod.

"Sure thing."

You're halfway through the game when the energy in the bar shifts. It's like everyone freezes, a collective whoosh of air washing through the bodies hunched over at the bar, loitering on the walls, perched on the wrought iron chairs out back.

The regulars look at one another and then return to studying the TV, or each other, their half empty drinks.

You don't need to look, to know.

You can feel them.

Apparently, so can your date.

"Don't look, but there are two guys staring at you, across the bar." You bat your eyelashes.

"Who?" It's innocent, this kind of play. Playing dumb. It's pure, until your chin turns over your shoulder and find them, white knuckled and focused, Johnny alight with anger, Simon stoic as ever. Sadness, and rage, roar inside your head, and you force yourself to look them in their eyes. Force yourself to be brave.

After a second, you turn away and into your date. He pulls you closer, palm resting on your lower back, mouth dangerously close above your ear. "Are they bothering you?" What a nice guy.

"No." You assuage immediately. You know what would happen, if he tried to be your knight in shining armor. You know how it would end.

With blood. Broken bones. And tears.

"Let's keep playing." You suggest. "Will you show me how to hold the stick?" Your teeth hold onto the last syllable, hand wrapping around the polished length of the wood, slowly moving it up and down. Your heart pounds, but a thrill rushes through you at the same time. Fuck them. Your date raises an eyebrow, mouth cocking into a sly smile, and nods.

After your third drink, you can't delay using the bathroom anymore. Skin tingling from all the places his hands have traversed, you're dizzy with the pulse of power, the high of your performance. It's wrong, and twisted but...

they deserve it. They deserve worse.

"I'll be right back." You promise, tracing a fingernail down his arm. "Get another round?" He trots off, eager to please.

The chairs scrape as soon as you turn into the dingy hallway, and their shadows fill the air, sucking it dry. You resist the urge to turn, palm flat against the swinging door of the toilets.

"What are ye doin'?" Johnny rages, and you turn to mouth off, only to jerk backwards at the realization of how close he is. You can count the flecks of gold around his irises, see the shimmer of cerulean blue. Simon stands at his back, a wall blocking out the rest of the hall, hiding you from view.

"I'm on a date." Simon laughs.

"You call this little show a date, sweetheart? Is that what you think that is?"

"Not sure you'd know what I'm like on a date since you never took me on one." You spit, and Johnny goes rigid, muscles hardening.

"Not sure that little boy would know the first thing about handlin' ye."

"Handling me?" The squeak your voice makes is embarrassing and incredulous at the same time. "Handle me? You think I need handling? I'm a full grown woman. I don't need-" He presses closer, close enough you can smell him, and your mouth drops open when he pushes you against the wall, cock hard under his jeans. "J-johnny."

"Aye, we think ye need handlin'. Ye're only supposed to be handled by us. Not by some sad wank who cannae stop droolin' like a dog."

"Stop." The resolve in your voice wavers, your resistance cracking and crumbling as Simon appears beside him, mouth pressing to your ear.

"You think that boy has a fat cock to feed you, sweet girl? Think he knows how-" One of them cups you between your legs over the fabric of your dress, palm grinding against your clit, and you grit your teeth against the friction, the moan it tries to pull from your throat. "to take care of this pussy?"

"She's high maintenance, ye know." Johnny snickers, lips dotting your cheek, down to your neck. He cups a fistful of your breast, thumb stroking where your nipple strains beneath your bra. "Ye think he'll be able to make ye gush for him? Make ye cum on his cock?" You're boiling, anger and desire feeding twin flames, trying to sputter out a response.

"What's going on here?" Your date practically shouts from the edge of the hallway, and Simon's grin turns feral. Predatory.

Fear strikes, and turns you cold.

"D-don't." You try to implore.

"Are you okay?" Your poor date catches your gaze, and you try to will him away with your eyes.

"Leave him alone." You plead.

"Fuck off mate. This is between us and our girl. Ye're done here."

"Excuse me?" He steps closer, and Simon pushes off the wall. Desperate, you latch onto his forearm.

"Simon, please. He's not-"

"He said you're done here." Simon snarls. "Run along like a good boy."

"Fuck you." He postures, and you shake your head frantically, trying to step out between them. Johnny doesn't budge, keeping you half pinned against the wall.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Maybe you'd like to watch us fuck her, after we make you beg for it. After we stretched out your neglected little hole." Johnny laughs, a cackle full of crow, smart and mischievous, and you nearly faint. Your date looks sick.

He takes one look at you, another look at the boys... and then flees. Johnny whistles. "Coward."

When they both turn back...

you burst into tears.

[nadvs]

home before dark (part two)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

After Rafe leaves, you make sure every door and window in your home is shut and locked.

You don’t know if Ty would do something as crazy as break in. But there was a time you’d laugh in disbelief at the thought of him hurling insults at you and that was all he did by the end of your relationship, so you’re not taking any chances.

Beneath the fear he impales you with lies a sense of betrayal. He was so good at pretending to be kind. Only a monster could put on such a convincing act just to break your heart.

When you tell yourself he’ll move on soon, you hate that it feels like false hope.

You text Sarah to let her know you made it home and that you’ll see her at tonight’s beach party. Even though Ty will probably be there, you don’t want him having any more power over you than he already has.

You’re determined to have fun. To have a life. Especially because you have someone protecting you now.

Rafe is unnerved as he stands on the beach under the starry sky that night, surrounded by the guys he parties with all the time.

The crowds and the conversations are all the same, but everything is different now. Because he’s looking out for you and it gives him something he hasn’t had in a long time. Purpose.

It’s disorienting to Rafe, going from avoiding you to keeping his eyes on you so persistently. From afar, he watches you laughing with your friends and now that he has a reason to, he takes you in completely.

He’d be an idiot not to admit that you’re beautiful. But he always knew that, no matter how hard he pretended not to notice you.

You slowly drift further away into the crowd. Rafe continues checking on you, keeping you in his sights.

Later on in the night, you’re in deep conversation with Sarah. Being three years her senior, you were much closer to Rafe when you were kids, but now you’d consider her a good friend.

When her eyes widen at something behind you, your body goes cold, expecting the worst. You turn to see your ex approaching you, a nearly empty beer bottle in his hand.

“Where’s Rafe?” you ask Sarah, hushed.

“Rafe?” she echoes in confusion. While she knows all about your ex, you haven’t had a chance to tell her that her brother is helping you put on a farce. You’re sure she’ll be in disbelief when you catch her up.

“Hey,” Ty says gently, his hand at the small of your back. The sensation you once welcomed makes you sick. “Can we talk? Please? I’m sorry about last night.”

It’s no surprise. You’re used to him yo-yoing between belittling you and putting on his nice guy act.

“No,” you respond, twisting so that his hand slips off of you. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?”

The booze in his system slows him down, but Rafe treads through the sand to you as fast as he can the second he sees Ty talking to you.

Suddenly, Rafe’s broad back is in front of you, a wall separating you from the man who’s tormenting you. When Rafe’s there, you realize Ty doesn’t scare you at all.

“Fuck off,” Rafe mutters.

Ty drunkenly staggers back, creating several feet of distance between you. His face contorts with annoyance.

“You know you’re just a bullshit rebound, right?” Ty calls. You look back at Sarah, who’s watching the exchange in confusion.

“I can’t hear you when you’re running away from me, pussy,” Rafe taunts.

Anger churns inside you at Ty’s words, prompting you to grab Rafe’s hand. You know Rafe couldn’t care less - after all, this relationship is all an act - but Ty calling him a rebound, insinuating that he’s meaningless to you, bothers you.

You pull him away, cupping his fingers with both hands.

Rafe was an inch away from chasing Ty and swinging at him. If it wasn’t for the alcohol blurring his senses, his fist would be aching right now from driving it into Ty’s jaw.

His entire body is stiff with rage, but for once in his life, the tension is dissolving instead of building up onto itself. It’s from the way your hands feel on him.

“What an asshole,” you say. Even though you should probably let go of him, you can’t.

Your touch is so warm. Rafe wants to ask why you reserve kindness for him after he shoved you out of his life. He wishes he could wipe it from his memory, the look on your face after he denied your every effort to talk to him. You grew up, but the disappointment in your stare never changed.

But he doesn’t know how to say all this. He doesn’t talk like that. With anybody. He couldn’t even talk to the therapist his father took him to see after it happened.

Maybe if he had asked him why he couldn’t so much as look at her, Rafe would have told his dad that the therapist’s blonde hair and gentle tone reminded him too much of his mother.

But after she told Ward that Rafe “wasn’t responding to therapy”, all he did was angrily yank his son out of the office, his grasp tight and painful.

Once they made it home, Rafe tearfully rushed to his parents’ bed to try to smell his mother on her pillow even though the sheets had been washed.

He spent most of his childhood pretending he was bigger than he was, eager to grow up. But he remembers nuzzling his head into her pillow that day, hyperventilating and thinking he was too small to know his heart could hurt this bad.

It felt like no time had passed when Rose came into the picture. Rafe knew his parents weren’t in a happy marriage, but he didn’t expect Ward to start seeing another woman so soon.

Rafe angrily confronted his dad, as if a ninety-pound kid could be any sort of threat. It was the first time Ward slapped him. He’s certain that it wasn’t the first time his father wanted to hit him, but his mother had always been his defence. And then in an instant, Rafe didn’t have her anymore.

You reach the shore together, far away enough from the crowd. You pull your hands away from Rafe and cross your arms, gazing at him under the moonlight.

“I wish he’d just stop already,” you say, shaken from Ty’s sudden approach. “Thank you. Again.”

“It’s fine,” Rafe says flatly. But he doesn’t walk away from you. He simply looks out at the dark sea with his hands in his pockets.

The waves crash beside you, the water climbing and retreating over the sand, threatening to wet your shoes.

The last time you stood together looking out at the water like this, you were kids skipping stones over the ocean’s swells. And because he’s not leaving, you take the opportunity to see if he’ll let you in, even just a little bit.

You crouch to pick up a small, smooth stone and try to skip it over the water. It immediately falls straight below the surface. You breathe a short laugh.

“That sucked,” Rafe says. His tone is lighter than what you’re used to.

“It’s been a while,” you retort. “And that rock wasn’t very flat.”

“Sure.” Despite himself, he cracks a smirk.

You can’t remember the last time you saw happiness on his face. He has his mother’s smile.

“You were better at finding the flat ones,” you say.

“I was better at everything.”

“And still so humble about it.” You haven’t joked around with him like this in so long that it feels new. “Prove it, then.”

“What?”

“That you can do better than me,” you say. “Get two skips, at least.”

Rafe keeps his hands in his pockets, looking down at the stones scattered atop the sand. The wind whips around you, threatening rain.

“We’re not kids anymore,” he rasps. If you want to take a walk down memory lane, you can do it alone.

He steps back, inviting the distance that lived between you for years to return. Yet another dismissal.

You step back, too. Your arms are not so much crossed anymore; you’re practically hugging yourself now. You need the comfort and he certainly isn’t going to give it to you.

“Did I do something wrong… before?” you impulsively say. Now that you have his attention, you find a shred of courage to ask him what’s been turning in your mind for years.

Deep down, you’ve always feared it wasn’t just the shock of what happened that made Rafe shut you out. Maybe you did or said something that deemed your friendship not worth keeping. Maybe you were too pushy. Or not pushy enough.

Rafe’s throat tightens. He never planned to have this conversation. He never wanted to.

You see his jaw clench. His silence is loud enough. It’s obvious he’s done speaking.

“Nevermind,” you say dejectedly. You turn, but his deep voice stops you.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his protective instinct kicking in again.

“Back to my friends,” you say.

“He’ll just bother you again,” Rafe states. “Come on.”

He tilts his head towards the side of the beach he was on. Looking at the group of the same rowdy guys you always see him with in the distance makes you frown.

No matter how much you’ve missed him, you know that standing silently next to him while he jokes around with his friends will just be a painful reminder of how he chose them and not you.

“I’ll be fine,” you say.

“It wasn’t a question,” Rafe snaps abruptly.

For the first time since you started speaking again, the compassion you always feel for him is overpowered by anger. You know he’s helping you, but his domineering tone reminds you of how Ty speaks to you.

“I’ll be fine,” you repeat. The cold tide reaches your feet, soaking your shoes.

Irritation pricks Rafe’s skin. For years, you’ve been trying to force conversations with him, and now, when he’s inviting you to stay by his side, you’re shutting him down?

As you walk away, the feeling of rejection screws a hole into his chest. Then he realizes that this is the cold, empty way he’s been making you feel for years.

“I know,” you say when you see Sarah, acknowledging her puzzled expression, linking arms with her.

You’re about to tell her this is all a game of pretend, but the risk of Ty finding out from anyone overhearing or her accidentally mentioning it to someone is too scary.

“What was that?” she says with a disbelieving laugh.

“Rafe and I… started talking again. The other night. And we’re seeing each other now.”

“Wow,” is all she can say. She glances across the beach, as if looking at Rafe will offer any sort of clarity.

You haven’t spoken much about him with Sarah. Years ago, you’d often tell her how much you wished he’d just talk to you again and she’d tell you he doesn’t talk to anyone anymore.

She knows your relationship with him is strained and basically non-existent. You feel bad for lying to her, but your fear of Ty is too big to take any risks.

As the night carries on, your ex stays away from you.

Before heading home, you separate from your friends for just a moment to throw out your cup when you see a figure approaching you.

Goosebumps grow across your skin as Ty passes by behind you, his keys jingling in his hand.

“You planning on hiding behind him forever?” he asks. “What’s gonna happen when he’s not around, huh?”

You stare at him with a scowl, hoping your face isn’t showing just how frightened you are.

To your relief, Ty continues on his way, crossing into the parking lot. You remember him picking you up in the car you watch him sit in now and how he acted like such a gentleman, all the while hiding who he really was.

He succeeded in scaring you. His words left you unsettled, tears pricking your eyes, your breath shallow. The thought of going home and sleeping alone fills you with dread.

Maybe it was just an empty threat. But maybe it wasn’t.

You need someone to stay with you tonight. You rush back onto the sand towards the other side of the beach.

Rafe’s gaze is fixed on one of his friends telling a drunken story. But then you appear, crossing the distance with a fear-struck expression.

“What’d he do?” Rafe mutters, his body tensing. “Where is he?”

“He left,” you respond. Your anxiety pushes you to hold his forearm for some stability.

“What’d he do?” he repeats.

“He… said some stuff,” you say, voice shaking. “Can you-”

“I told you to stay with me,” Rafe interrupts. He’s seething. This could have been prevented if you had just listened to him.

But the way you’re breathing and holding onto him, as if you’re lost at sea and he’s the only thing keeping you afloat, makes him regret snapping.

“And I didn’t listen because you yelled at me just like he does,” you mumble quietly, letting go.

The comparison stings. He shouldn’t blame you. He knows that. And now that the booze has worn off, he’d love a shot at Ty with nothing slowing him down.

Some of his buddies are watching you two in confusion. They’d never seen you together and now you’re clearly in a heated conversation. Just like a couple fighting.

“What were you gonna ask me?” Rafe says, wishing he hadn’t interrupted you.

You’re unsure if you should ask. But even with your home’s security system in place, who knows how long police would take to arrive after a triggered alarm? You need someone already there in case Ty is crazy enough to break in. Someone you know can protect you.

“Can you stay at my house tonight?“ you mumble. “I’m scared of being alone.”

Rafe falters. He agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend, and staying with you is a boyfriend thing to do, but the pressure of being in an empty house together after years of avoiding you makes him uneasy.

Yet, at the same time, the prospect of being completely alone with you gives him a sense of home that only adds to the confusion that’s been clouding in his mind.

“Did you drive here?” he finally says.

You know next to nothing about Rafe these days, but you do know that he does almost everything alone. He never arrives or leaves parties with people. It’s always just him on his motorcycle.

“I came with a friend,” you reply. “But I can wait until you’re ready to leave.”

His muscles lose some of their tension. You’d be willing to stand here and wait for as long as you’d need to just so you don’t have to be on your own. You’re desperate.

Rafe stays out until he’s exhausted. It’s how he makes sure the second he’s in bed, he can take a shot or do a line and fall asleep right away, giving no opportunity to be subjected to his thoughts.

But guilt is a powerful opponent and this is a fight he knows he’ll lose.

“Let’s go,” he sighs.

After you let your friend know you have a ride home, you make your way to Rafe’s motorcycle with him in silence.

He grabs his helmet from the boot, thoughtlessly about to put it on. But then he remembers he’s not alone for once.

He holds the helmet out to you. You hesitate, about to ask him if he has an extra for himself, but why would he?

“You sure?” you ask.

“Take it.”

“You don’t have to,” you say. Rafe sends a groan towards the starry sky.

“Goddamn it, do you have to be so difficult?” he mutters. The edge of his tone is cutting. You’re fed up.

“I know you’re doing me a favor, but could you stop being so rude about it?” you say.

Rafe exhales in frustration. Shit. He’s sure he’s acting just like your asshole ex again.

“Isn’t the whole point of this to keep you safe?” he says, softness in his voice. “Can you just put it on?”

You look up at him through your lashes. His forlorn gaze extinguishes the fire of your irritation and you relent, accepting the helmet, the shell cold and hard in your hands.

Rafe swings his leg over the bike, turning on the engine. He glances back at you as you put the helmet on.

You steady yourself and straddle the sputtering motorcycle. It’s nerve-racking placing your hands on Rafe’s hips.

With his feet on the ground, he drags his big hands over yours and guides them up to his abdomen.

“You have to hold tighter,” he half-shouts over the engine. You obey, your chest pressing against his back, your arms wrapping around his torso.

You wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is pounding. His t-shirt is so thin. His body is firm and warm.

You appreciate that he gave you his helmet, but you wish it wasn’t in the way now so that you could lean on him and press your cheek between his shoulder blades.

Your mind has run away from you. It’s odd craving someone who doesn’t seem to like you all that much. You still don’t even know why he’s helping you.

As Rafe drives out of the lot, slower than he usually would, he hates that he likes the feeling of you wrapped around him this much. He’s been pushing this sort of closeness away for so long. He didn’t know it could feel so good.

As he drives beneath the glowing streetlights, he can’t remember the last time he felt proud of himself like he does now. The relief that washed over your face when he told you he’d stay at your house is replaying in his mind.

While he’s the one protecting you, you’re giving him something, too. You’re pulling him away from the sense of aimlessness he lives in every day.

Rafe goes to his place first, stuffing the things he’ll need to sleep over into a duffle bag and draping it across his chest, before driving to your house.

When you step through the front door together, he watches you quickly enter your code into the security panel, then rush to shut and lock the door.

You’re clearly still so terrified. Rafe needs to know exactly what Ty did to make you act like this.

“What’d he say to you?” he breaks the silence, dropping his bag into his hand. “Tonight. What’d he say?”

You lean against the door, hands tucked behind you as you look up at him. It’s odd, Rafe being in your house. You never thought he’d be here again.

“He asked me if I’m gonna hide behind you forever and what I’ll do when you’re not with me,” you say. It makes Rafe want to kill the idiot with his bare hands.

“I’d call the police,” you continue, “but they don’t help unless he actually does something. Or if there’s proof that he’s planning to. I just hope he gets tired of it so you don’t have to keep doing this.”

Rafe wants to tell you he’ll be here for you for as long as you need him. It’s a shock that his knee-jerk reaction is to make a promise to anyone, let alone to you.

But it’s no surprise that your focus is on how this is affecting him. He still can’t figure out what could possibly make you think he’s worth the consideration.

“Where am I sleeping?” he asks, settling for the easy way out of the conversation.

You lead him upstairs to the guest room a few doors down from your bedroom. Rafe’s eyes travel over the family photos organized in a neat grid on the hallway wall, watching you grow up through every image.

His heart lurches at an image of four people on the beach. It’s you two as kids, surrounded by your smiling mothers. He hasn’t looked at a photo of his mom in years.

You notice the sound of Rafe’s footsteps stop and you look back to see him staring at a photo. You’ve memorized the wall by now, knowing exactly which one he’s looking at.

What can you possibly say? That you miss her, too? You can’t come close to understanding his grief.

His forehead crinkles, his Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow, and you swear you see him stop breathing for a moment. Then his gaze darts off of the photo and you silently lead him the rest of the way.

Rafe enters the room you take him to and swings the door behind him without a word.

You get ready for bed and settle under your covers. Knowing you’re not alone helps you doze off within minutes.

You’re in a deep sleep when a loud clang pulls you into consciousness. Immediately, you fear it’s Ty.

But once you hear the tapping on the window, you realize it’s storming outside. A roll of thunder is what woke you up. You check the time to see it’s nearly two a.m.

Thunder rumbles again as you slip out of bed. Your survival instinct is beckoning you to go check on Rafe, to make sure he’s still here in case you need him.

You turn on the hallway light and see that the guest room door is just slightly open. And the bed is empty.

Before you can jump to conclusions, you hear a laugh track spilling out of the television downstairs. He didn’t leave.

You’re pretty sure Rafe doesn’t want you disrupting his solitude. But you need to know why he’s doing all this for you. It’s been tumbling in your mind since he agreed to it. That’s what gives you the push to go downstairs and find him.

(part three)

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[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

to be added to a taglist

TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

[0cta9on]

FFF2+4

length: +2k words

Genre: Smut

Le Sserafim Sakura x Male Reader

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Your hand lazily inserts the key into your apartment and unlocks the door. You want to slam it behind you in anger, but you’re too tired to even manage that. Working at the convenience store was supposed to be easy, just a little side hustle you can do to make some cash while you go through school. However, you failed to anticipate the long and arduous days of being yelled at by customers over things you have no power over, all for minimum wage. Your piece of shit manager doesn’t make things easier as all she does is sit on her phone while you’re the one that has to run around like a dog just to maintain the store. With a heavy sigh, you collapse face-first into the couch, just barely fighting the urge to suffocate in between the cushions and end your suffering once and for all.

“You good?”

You turn your attention to your roommate Sakura, who’s sitting on the floor, immersed in a fighting game on the TV. Sakura seldom talks and has a bit of an unnerving air about her, but she always kept the common areas clean and upheld her side of the chores so you considered her to be the perfect roommate in your book. You’ve managed to warm up to each other a little bit over the years, yet she always remained as sort of an enigma to you. You rarely talked due to always being busy with work or school, but whenever you did see her, she was always playing some kind of video game. Supposedly she makes money from streaming herself playing these games to thousands of people. You didn’t really understand, but you didn’t really need to anyway.

Your body slides off the couch onto the floor next to her, your eyes glazing over the flashing colors on the screen. “I’m fine,” you utter. “What are you playing?”

“Tekken 8,” she answers, her eyes never leaving the screen. “You wanna play?”

“I think I’ll stick to watching you.” Video games were never really your thing, but you could admire how skillful Sakura looked with the way her slender fingers quickly pressed the right buttons at the right time, her eyes glaring with focus. The blue light of the TV reflects off of her pale skin, making her look ethereal despite wearing a simple crop top and a pale blue tracksuit. Since when did Sakura look so attractive?

Before you knew it, you were suddenly face to face with the back of Sakura’s blonde head, your legs splayed out on either side of her. She was too focused on the game to notice you pressing up against her, which you took as a sign to take things further. Maybe it was the exhaustion and the stress seeping its way into your brain, but you needed some kind of release and Sakura just happened to be at the right place at the right time. 

Your hands slowly snake their way up her toned abs, grazing her soft skin with your fingertips and stopping at the hem of her top. Sakura hasn’t made any move to stop you, you wonder if she even noticed you at all. You lift up her top, pleasantly surprised to see her wearing no bra underneath. Her breasts are the perfect size and shape to fit into the palms of your hands, soft yet firm like a stress ball. With each gentle squeeze, all the stress you procured over the day begins to drain from your body, and your erection starts to strain against your pants, pressing into Sakura’s lower back. Lust takes over your body as your breath gets heavier and your heart pounds in your chest. Your lips latch onto the back of her exposed neck, kissing and licking her porcelain skin.

“You’re gonna make me lose,” she says, her voice monotone. You momentarily pause to chuckle at her nonchalance. Her body was being ravished by her roommate, yet all she cared about was winning her little game. You found it oddly cute in a weird way.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, punctuating your sentence with a kiss on her neck. “How about this? If you win while I play with your body, I’ll give you $10.”

“Make it $20 and I’ll let you fuck me afterward.”

“Deal.” Almost immediately, your hand lunges into the waistband of her pants while your other hand pinches Sakura’s nipples. To your surprise, her panties had a sizable wet spot on them - despite her lack of a reaction, she was way into this. As you apply pressure against the wet spot, you hear her breath hitch in her throat, her body shivering upon contact. You had her right where you wanted her.

As much as you would love to take your time to make her feel good, you also didn’t want to easily give up the $20 you worked so hard for. You move her panties to the side to give you easier access to the honey pot lying underneath. Her lips were already coated in her slick juices as you teased her hole with your digits. A small groan escapes her mouth right as she wins the first round with a sliver of health left.

“Ooooh, that was a close one, Kkura,” you tease, chuckling into her ear. “Maybe this’ll be easier than I thought.”

Sakura stays quiet, her focus on the game unwavering. Right as the second round starts, you shove two fingers deep inside her hot, velvety core, eliciting a cute moan from the Japanese girl. The slickness of her arousal coats your fingers, allowing you to thrust in and out of her with ease. The texture of her inner walls is like silk wrapped around steel - soft and smooth, yet firm and unyielding. You watch with enjoyment as Sakura slowly becomes undone. Lustful moans continued to escape her lips, and her fingers began to spaz out with each thrust of your hand, causing her character to lose health. Her grip on the controller tightened with frustration but quickly dissipates as you continue to finger her pussy. Miraculously, she somehow managed to win the second round, albeit with a smaller margin than before.

“Hmm, I guess I should start trying now, huh?” You quicken the pace of your hand while your thumb rubs against her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Sakura’s body. Her breathy moans fill the air as she tries desperately to ignore the lust threatening to take over her body. The walls of her pussy tighten around your fingers as she grows closer to her orgasm, her hips rocking subtly with each thrust, inadvertently rubbing her butt against your erection. Your breath grew heavy with excitement, but you didn’t want to end the fun just yet. Right when you think she’s about to cum, you remove your hand from her heat, denying her the satisfaction of a release. Sakura turns to you with a fire in her eyes, causing her to lose her first round.

You chuckle in her face. “What’s with that look?” you ask, taunting her with a sly smirk. From all your years of knowing her, this is the most emotion you have ever seen her display. You couldn’t help but find it cute how much she wanted to cum.

“Whatever…” She grumbles in annoyance before turning back to the screen. You place a gentle kiss on the back of her neck, a symbol of your apology. However, you aren’t apologizing for not taking her all the way. In fact, this is an apology made in advance - you’re about to make things so much more difficult for her.

Instead of pulling the trigger and assaulting her wetness like she wants you to, you decide to tease her by gently rubbing your fingers over the cloth of her crotch, applying just enough pressure for her to feel it but not enough for her to get off. Your other hand traces gentle circles on her breasts, tickling her skin with your fingernails. Sakura lets out a huff of irritation. She so badly wanted to feel your fingers inside of her, but unfortunately for her, her pride was stronger than her lust, and throwing the game for her own pleasure was just not a viable option. Her sexual frustration gets the better of her and the poor girl ends up losing the round in a complete stomp, leaving just one more round to decide whether or not you would be out $20.

“Ugh…” She groans while pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What’s the matter? Just one more win and you get $20, easy as pie,” you say, smirking mischievously. Sakura simply shrugged it off, putting all her attention into the game, but little did she know how dirty you planned on playing the final round.

Right as the in-game announcer starts the final round, you push Sakura forward so that she’s now on all fours, her perfect ass in the air. Despite the compromising change in position, she kept her grip on her controller and her focus on winning. You didn’t let her stay comfortable for long as you grabbed the waistband of her velvet sweatpants and pulled it down along with her panties, exposing her plump cheeks in one fell swoop. Her pussy stains her thighs with her sweet nectar, ready for you to ravish her hole. All your patience is about to pay off as you free your erection from its prison, lining it up with Sakura’s core. With one thrust, you completely bottom out inside of her, causing a high-pitched moan to come out of her mouth. Your fingers sink into the plush flesh of her hips, pulling her towards you with each thrust. The sight of her modest yet plump ass vibrating with an audible slap of skin against skin is worth way more than $20, yet here you are, enjoying it all for free. Sakura’s pussy squeezes your cock with her slick walls, her climax quickly approaching thanks to the work of your fingers earlier.  At this point, your roommate was a complete mess in front of you, dropping her controller and letting her opponent knock out her character without any fight. Right as the big red “DEFEAT” pops up on the screen, Sakura lets out a long moan, announcing her orgasm. You hold her hips down on the base of your cock as her body shakes with pleasure, her juices spilling down your legs and staining your work pants.

Sakura collapses onto the ground as you pull out of her, giving you a moment to catch your breath. As much as you would love to dump your entire load into her pretty pussy, you decide to show her mercy in this instance. Games aren’t fun if you win them right away.

Slowly, Sakura props herself up. Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath and you can’t help but become mesmerized by her breasts. In turn, she stares at your dick, still glistening with her nectar. She discards her disheveled clothing, and like a kitten stalking its prey, she crawls towards you with unblinking eyes. Normally, her face void of emotion would be hard to read, but at this moment, you knew exactly what she was thinking. Her lips hungrily latch onto yours as she straddles your lap, grasping onto your cock to line it up with her dripping cunt. Your hands automatically gravitate towards her hips as you pull her down onto your lap, forcing her to take all of you at once. Sakura groans into your mouth, wrapping her arms around your head and pulling you deeper into the sloppy kiss. 

As she bounces on your dick, you completely forget about all the shit you faced at work. Hell, you would gladly work at the shit hole if it meant getting to fuck your cute roommate every day. The thought gets you more excited as you meet Sakura’s hips with thrusts of your own, simultaneously breaking the kiss to suckle on her perfect bouncing tits. Her shrill moans and the slaps of your skin against hers fill your ears, driving you closer to the edge.

“S-Sakura… I’m about to c-cum…” You warn her, breathless.

“I-inside… C-cum inside me…”

With your grip tightened on her waist, you slam her down onto your cock, forcing your entire length inside as you shoot ropes of your semen into her cunt. Sakura meets your orgasm with one of her own, her pussy pulsating and milking your cock. Her body collapses onto you as both of you catch your breath.

“Well, that was something,” you say to fill the empty space. Sakura answers with a hot shaky breath against your neck. Five minutes pass before her breathing finally comes back to normal. “Soooo… Same time tomorrow?” You ask, half-jokingly. Sakura gets up from your neck with the same blank expression as always. 

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

[satorusugurugurl]

Teasing JJK Men With a Popsicle

Summary: When the sun is hot, you cool off with a tasty ocy treat! While also teasing your boyfriend.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU), AFAB!Reader

Warnings: suggestiveness, food play?? language, kissing, teasing, mock blowjobs, smutty-esque

Word Count: 5,5k

A/N: this is another poll prompt I did awhile back! I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things now that my writers block is gone! Enjoy!!

Gojo Satoru:

“Good mornin—ooh—” Shoko held her cigarette between her teeth, watching you boil with anger. “Not a good morning?” she asked, cockimg a brow as you plopped down on the bench next to her.

“It would’ve been if it wasn’t for Gojo.”

“Yikes, using your boyfriend‘s last name. What did he do to piss you off??

“It’s on the lines of what he ‘didn’t do.’” Your best friend took a long drag and blew the smoke above her head.

“I’m going to regret asking this, but what happened?”

The morning has started with the potential of being a great day. Gojo had you on top of him, rocking your hips against his morning wood, getting you all riled up before he broke the kiss. He quickly got out of bed, claiming that he needed to get ready for the meeting, which you knew was a crock of shit, but instead of calling him out, you made the mistake of joining him in the shower. He had you pinned against the wall, pressing between your legs, teasing your pussy before pulling away the second you began grinding down on him. It was painfully clear your asshole of a boyfriend decided to edge you all fucking morning. Once you made this discovery, you did your best to avoid him and his seductive advances.

But avoiding him was easier said than done.

On the ride to school, his fingers teased your inner thighs, rubbing the skin gently. When you finally made it to work, he cornered you in a classroom, rubbing himself over the fat of your ass. Gojo had woken up and chose violence this morning, and you were his victim.

“I’m seriously about to ask Yaga to send me off to supervise a mission or something to get me away from him.”

The only reason you were able to maintain some form of composure was all thanks to the first year’s training session Gojo was instructing. You had an hour to try to calm yourself down to get through the rest of the day, but knowing Gojo, he wouldn’t make the rest of the day easy. No amount of time would prepare you for the relentless torture. That was sure to ensue the second he got back from his lesson.

Shoko blew out another cloud, cupping some dark hair behind her ear. “Your solution is simple.” You stared blankly at your best friend. “You tease the bastard back.” Part of you jumps eagerly at the idea of switching the playing field. Part of you began cooking up all sorts of plots to invoke your revenge. The other half of you pouts, sinking slowly further down the bench.

“Yeah, and how do you suggest I do that? The last time I checked, he’s a giant who is untouchable. Even if I tried grinding against him, all he needed to do was put up his infinity.”

“You don’t have to grind on him to tease him. I’m a lesbian, and even I know that.”

“Then what do I do?”

Shoko put her cigarette out before gently grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the teacher's lounge. “We just need to make a quick stop at the kitchen.”

Gojo sighed as he watched the first-years brawl with the second-years. This was far less entertaining than teasing you had been. Seeing your pretty skin flush before you sighed in annoyance was his fuel for the day. Teasing you was just too easy. But he fully intended to make all the teasing worthwhile once you got home.

He just wanted to go as fast as he could to get back to said teasing. “Hey.” Never mind the waiting; it seemed as though some other almighty power had answered his prayers. You had been summoned near his side, practically begging to be teased! You were like a moth to the glowing flame that was his stature.

“Hey sweetie, what do you say we blow this popsicle stand and head to the sh-h-he—!!”

Gojo’s flawless Ivory skin flushed a crimson red when he turned his attention to you. Your pretty lips were sealed around a popsicle, sucking it as if it was his dick. Cheeks were hollowed, and your eyes narrowed as you watched his lips quiver under the shock of seeing you in such a promiscuous state. Once you were sure his attention was focused solely on you, your head began bobbing, taking more of (him) the popsicle into your mouth with a fucking moan. That sound alone should be reserved for him and his dick only, not some popsicle. Why the fuck was he getting insanely jealous over a sweet?!

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Cooling off?” You say, finally pulling off the cream-colored icy treat

Satoru scoffed, shifting his weight from one leg to the other to distract himself from his tightening pants. But nothing truly seemed to help because all he could focus on was how pretty your lips looked wrapped around your frozen popsicle. While he was suffering, you reveled in the satisfaction and the sweet taste of revenge.

“Baby, come on, don’t do this to me.” He complained, watching you take the whole length into your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh?” You swirl your tongue around the tip. “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for what, Toru?” You asked, popping the popsicle back into your mouth

“I’m sorry for teasing you, okay?!”

Your lips together, humming thoughtfully as you tapped your index finger against your chin. “I guess you seem like you mean it.” Satoru nodded, fluffy tufts of white hair moving with his every move. “But that still doesn’t make what you did right, so no, I won’t stop.” Your boyfriend let out a pained moan as you returned to enjoying your frozen treat.

“Sweetie, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Your cheeks hollowed as you suck the tip hard.

“Yes, anything!”

You hummed again, pulling off the tip. “You’re going to let me ride you tonight. And I will edge until I see tears in those blue eyes.”

Gojo scoffed, bending down slightly and getting in your face. “You say that as if it’s a punishment.” You focused on his blindfold as you pulled off the popsicle.

“Wanna bet?”

“Oh, please, like you riding me is a punish—” For an instant, Gojo waited, thinking that maybe you were going to have some smart retort to shoot back at him. But instead, you bit the tip of the popsicle off with your teeth with an aggressive snarl.

With pure satisfaction, you watched your boyfriend's hands shoot down his crotch. Where he covered his now soft cock. His jaw went slack as eyebrows twitched from underneath his blindfold, clearly pained by your actions. You smiled before patting him on the shoulder and turning to walk back towards the school with a sway in your hips. One that generally left him eager to get home, but this time, it sent pinpricks down his spine.

“Can’t wait to get home and teach you a thing or two!”

While the strongest sorcerer of the modern age watched, you saunter off. He was beginning to realize just how badly he had fucked up. And he was not looking forward to what you had planned for him. Okay, maybe he was a little excited.

Geto Suguru:

It wasn’t your fault. You had done nothing to deserve the sex ban your boyfriend had put you on. You may have fallen through a second-story window after purposely ignoring his warnings. And it may have been a fall that had resulted in you needing twenty stitches, but that didn’t mean he needed to withhold sex from you.

Normally when shit like this happened, the outcome either resulted and you were getting lectured or getting spanked, which wasn’t ordinarily bad at all. But seeing that this was your fifth injury in three weeks, Suguru decided to take a different approach to teach you a lesson, and it was a lesson that was working, much to your dismay.

This punishment was beginning to eat you alive.

You could live without sex for a week, but two weeks should be considered torture. To make matters worse, any attempts you had made to push Suguru to break the stupid ban himself had gone unnoticed, unbothered, and irritated you beyond all means. You were utterly desperate to get dick down by your fantastic boyfriend, but you still had another four days to go before the ban was up.

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

You hummed as you stood at the end of an alley, looking back at your boyfriend, who used his curse technique on the curse you had been fighting into a ball. Suguru rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that coated his brow. It was a hot one in downtown Tokyo, but you had the perfect way to cool off! One that was sure to ignite the flames of passion deep inside Suguru’s chest.

“Okay,” Suguru said softly as walking towards the entrance of the alley where you were waiting for him, “I just need to swallow, and then we can get back to Jujutsu High. I was thinking maybe we could—” your boyfriend, paused, looking up from the cursed spirit in his palm, watching as you slowly run your tongue along the underside of a popsicle. “When did you have time to grab that?”

“Right when you started working your magic!” Your tongue stained a fluorescent red as the taste of cherry washed over your taste buds. “This cute little shop had them right by the door! Works out perfectly in that summertime Tokyo heat.”

Suguru hummed, eyeing the curse sphere in his hand, bracing himself for what he knew he had to do next. “Would you mind—” he stopped talking as you pushed yourself off the wall, turning to stand before him. You sucked on the cherry popsicle as if it were your boyfriend’s cock. Your cheeks bobbing your head over the sweet, tangy treat, all while maintaining eye contact with your boyfriend. “Princess.”

“Ah~!” you moaned out happily, popping your mouth off the tip of the popsicle. You made sure to lick your lips ever so slowly, hoping they were slightly swollen with all the sucking you had done. “Yes, Suguru~?”

This was it. He would finally break after all of your efforts in the three days! You couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say! Maybe it would be, ‘I can't take this any longer. I need to feel you!’ Or better yet, he might not say anything at all! He might drag you down the dark and take you right there against the brick wall. It would be an adrenaline rush with the prospect of getting caught doing some naughty things in public!

You could feel yourself vibrating with excitement and need. A look that didn’t go unnoticed by your incredibly observant boyfriend. He could see the way that you were pressing your thighs together. Your lips slightly parted at the sound of his voice. And the telltale sign was the fact that your eyes so bluntly focused on his crotch as if you were willing him to get erect. It was almost cute seeing you so eager.

“Make sure there’s no one coming.” The disappointment that flashed across your features like lightning was as clear as a crystal lake. “Go on.”

Your eyebrow twitched with visible anger, and you practically stormed to the end of the alley, looking both ways and ensuring no pedestrians were walking by. “It’s clear.” There was a sour tone to your voice, fully capable of cuddling milk.

“Thank you, darling,” Suguru responded before tilting his head back and popping the curse into his mouth.

The horrendous taste of a rag that was used to wipe up vomit coated his tongue before he was able to swallow the curse down. Once he absorbed the curse, he focused his attention on you to draw away from the horrendous taste that coated his mouth like a film. He usually found himself drawn towards you after he swallowed a curse. You were his anchor, in a way—something to ground himself to without losing himself in the disgusting taste that would drive anyone mad.

Typically, when his dark eyes met yours, he was met with a warm and gentle smile. Only this time, he was met with the burning, lustful gaze as you practically deep-throated a popsicle. Seeing you suck on it before hadn’t been all that distracting, but now that you were getting into it, it was a different story. Your eyes had a far-off gaze as you focused on him. Your head moved up and down over the popsicle, coding it in your saliva as you sucked on it hard.

Seeing you in such a state left Suguru swallowing harder than he had when he swallowed the curse. With each inch you took further into your mouth, you could see a flicker of need in his eyes. This was it—your boyfriend‘s breaking point. Suguru was going to be the one to crash; he was going to be the one to break his ban!

In the blink of an eye, Suguru snarled, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you deeper down the alley. The sudden jerky movement caused you to drop your popsicle, tumbling to the ground and breaking into several uneven pieces. But you didn’t give a fuck about the popsicle! You were more eager to get to be with your boyfriend again finally!

Suguru grabbed both your wrists, pinning them above your head. His lips met yours in a crash of pure, unfiltered need. The man didn’t even give you a chance to fully understand what was happening or try to match his pace. One, his lips were slanted against yours, and the next, he was showing his tongue into your mouth without even asking for permission by the tip of his tongue slowly over your bottom lip. You moaned, eyes fluttering shut as you kissed him back, his knee darting between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core.

He pulled away for a moment before slamming his lips back against yours, nearly causing your teeth to clash against each other.his tongue, massage yours, wrapping around the muscle, as you found yourself melting against him, hips, slowly, moving as the taste of cherry slowly enveloped his mouth. His feverish kisses began to cool down as your hips slowly began rocking against his thigh, eager For what else he had to offer you in his alleyway.

But as quickly as the kiss came, it ended. He pulled away, panting heavily as he released his grip on your wrists. You fell forward against his chest, gripping his jacket for support as he removed his knee from between your legs. You were shaking slightly at the arousal that burned through your veins like boiling water. Peering up at your boyfriend, you watched as he licked at the smeared cherry syrup on his lips.

“S-Sugu—what was?!”

“I just had to get the taste of the curse out of my mouth. And since you were so rudely didn’t even offer to get me a popsicle, I decided to make do with what I had. It’s not like Satoru is around to offer me candy. So I decided to taste your popsicle firsthand.”

You felt as though the world was crashing down on you. “I-I—!” Suguru shut his eyes as he tilted his head to the side, smiling softly, which was sinister with what he had just done to you.

“Did you honestly think that was going to break me? Oh, my sweet Princess, you’d have to do a lot more than that.” he wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you down the alleyway back to the bustling streets. “You have four days to go, then we can make up for lost time. But by all means, keep up your technique by sucking more popsicles, it may not break me, but I do enjoy the sight of you sucking on it.”

Needless to say you had learned your lesson. You found that out by yourself right then there, standing in an alley after being twat-blocked your boyfriend who was right. You needed to be more careful on your missions, and you definitely would be more careful from now on. Because your boyfriend was not going to ever break a sex ban.

Nanami Kento:

It was hot, and you felt even hotter in every part of your body. You were sitting on your porch watching your husband mow the grass in your backyard. You had offered to do it earlier this week, but he insisted on taking care of it because of how hot it was. The last thing he wanted was for his beautiful wife to get overheated and possibly suffer the consequences of heat stroke.

At first, you weren’t sure if you were insulted or relieved by his request. You wanted to help with the yard work; you had no problem doing that. But Nanami made you a deal: if you did the laundry, he would ensure the yardwork was done, which didn’t seem that fair of a deal to you. Your washing machine and dryer were inside the comfort of your air-conditioned house while your husband was stuck outside in the heat doing yard work.

After you finished the laundry, you changed into a pair of booty shorts and a tank top, fully motivated to get outside and help him finish the yardwork so the two of you could shower and relax for the evening. But the second Nanami spotted you walking down the steps of the porch, heading towards him, he stopped what he was doing and pointed to the chair that was under the shade.

“My love, it’s too hot for you to be out here. I'm almost done. Take a seat. I can handle it.”

“Kento, if you stop being so stubborn, we could get it done faster!” you pleaded with your husband, crossing your arms over your chest.“Just let me help you with weeding the garden!”

Your husband turned the lawnmower off, using the short brake to wipe the sweat Office face with his dirty shirt. “Sweetpea, I already finished picking the weeds; I watered all the plants; all I need to do now is just mow the lawn. So please take a seat and relax. It won’t take me very long.” You wanted to argue with him to tell him that he was being asinine about the whole situation; that stubborn look in his eyes, however, told you there was no persuading him to stop.

With a side of defeat, you back up the stairs of the porch, flopping your ass down in the lounge chair, looking out at him. Nanami smiled, readjusting his baseball hat with a wink before turning the lawn mower back on. Your husband often called you stubborn, but perhaps he needed to take the time to look in the mirror because he was just as stubborn, if not more stubborn than you.

Was it that bad that you wanted to help him out? It wasn’t as though you were some fragile flower incapable of doing yardwork. If you weren't so angry, you would’ve been able to take the time to enjoy the view in front of you. Your sweaty husband roamed around the yard, ensuring it was pristine. Sweat ran down his neck, biceps, and face, making him look as though he was some sort of Greek god.

But he was being childish at the current moment.

Clearly, trying to be an adult and offer your assistance to him wasn’t going to help, and talking to him about trying to persuade him to let you help wasn’t going to work either. There wasn’t much more you could do. Once your husband has made a decision, he typically sticks with it.

But there was one thing even the Nanami Kento couldn't resist on a hot day like this! You hopped out of your chair and rushed back into the house, heading straight for the freezer. You snickered to yourself as you pulled out your secret weapon before returning to the backyard.

Nanami had just turned the lawnmower off again and moved to discard the lawn clippings in the trash bag. He fully set it off to the side, intending to add it to the other compost by the shed you used for your flowers. Sweat ran down his chiseled cheeks, and he was looking forward to getting this done so he could take a very long shower with you. But just as he was about to connect the basket back to the lawnmower, he looked up at you and dropped it to the ground.

You were sitting back in the lounge chair, legs propped up on the porch railing, as you slowly licked around the frozen treat in the waffle cone in your hand. You are pretty tongue-lapped at your favorite frozen flavor, your eyes transfixed on him as you swirled your tongue expertly around the tip of the treat. Watching you do something so lewd on a dessert had Nanami swallowing hard. He suddenly found his basketball shorts were way too tight for comfort.

You had not intended for it to be like this. Your mind was nowhere even close to being in the gutter. Instead, your intentions were innocent. In the long run, your plan had been to entice him with ice cream to take a break in the shade with you. Maybe once he got out of the blazing heat, you would be able to convince him to allow you to help him. Your poor husband thought you were doing something completely different; fortunately, it worked.

His eyes were towards the grass that was cut evenly, aside from the small patches near the back wall that were practically unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know the yard like you or Kento did; it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he didn’t mow it just this once. The lawn society would come and arrest him for missing a minuscule part of the lawn. Besides, it was too damn hot to be out in the yard working in heat like this. Not when you sat on the porch looking at him with narrowed eyes as you lapped seductively at your treat.

A look you hadn’t realized you had even been giving the man. Your intentions had been pure. So you knew you had won when you watched Nanami quickly move across the yard, picking up his yard tools and throwing them in the shed without a care in the world. You silently fist-pumped the aias. Nanami came bounding across the yard with a purpose. There was a look in those honey-brown eyes as he ran up the stairs.

“How sweet of you to join m—mmphm!”

Your frozen dessert falls onto your lap as Nanami tosses his baseball cap off to the side, his hands gripping your face as he kisses you deeply. Your eyes rolled back, your mind completely ignoring the fact that your frozen treat was melting in your lap. All your brain could focus on was kissing Nanami back; everything else fizzled into the background as he lifted you out of the chair, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Mhmm—my love.” the moan that left Nanami’s mouth caused the little hairs on your arms to stand as goosebumps rose. “If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask.”

“H-Huh—?” you drunkenly asked as he opened the backdoor, expertly shutting and locking it as his lips moved over your neck. He chucked warm and deep, his face buried in your neck.

You inhaled sharply, whimpering as his teeth grazed over your pulse. “If you wanted me to ravish you this badly, all you needed to do was say so instead of teasing me.” Your mind raced as you suddenly became aware of what he had been talking about.

The ice cream. Your intention to innocently persuade him to join you on the porch to cool off had been misconstrued as a beg for him to stop what he was doing so you could suck him off, maybe even do more. So, the way you saw it, you had two options. Be honest with your husband and tell him you just wanted the home to cool off on the porch as a ploy to convince him to let you help with the yard. Or, go with what he was saying and have steamy, hot shower sex.

“Oh shoot! You caught me! Here, I thought I was being so aloof with my plans!”

Your husband kicks the door to your bedroom open, heading into the bathroom. “Luckily for me, I can read you like a book.” Your fingers run through his slightly damp, sweat-ridden hair, scratching at the undercut as you pull yourself in and kiss him deeply.

“That you do.”

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU)

The door to the apartment flew open, and you snarled, eyes searching for any sign of your boyfriend. “Kuna!” screamed at the top of your lungs. There was no response, but that didn’t stop you from searching the empty apartment for your teasing boyfriend.

Intentions of making him pay for the relentless teasing he had put you through your workday. It started as an innocent text that said good morning and to have a good day. That innocent message progressed to him saying he missed you, followed by a picture of him lying in bed, his ripped abdomen muscles on full display. The photo in itself is something you were used to, but the images that followed were out of nowhere.

Pictures of his bulge in his basketball shorts came up on your screen. With each picture that showed up, they became more scandalous. The bulge turned into photos of him, groping himself through his pants, the erection clearest day to shots of his tattooed, happy trail all the way up to the base of his cock. Your face flushed as you shielded your phone from the prying eyes of your coworkers. You texted him to knock it off, but that was not easily persuaded. He did what he wanted, and he didn’t give a fuck.

Those scandalous photos turned into Voice Memos that had your panties soaked and your lip raw from how hard you bid it to hold the back whimpers. The man was torturing you, and you had planned to make him suffer as much as he had made you. But now that you were finally off the clock, in the safety of your own home, and the bastard was nowhere to be found!? Typical teasing dick move.

You stormed into the kitchen, searching for something to distract yourself with. Finding a popsicle in the freezer, you unwrapped it just as the front door opened and shut. In a second, you watched as your boyfriend around the corner, dropping his keys on the counter.

“Kitten!” shouted around with hungry desire. “I'm home!”

“Hm.” Instead of responding with the normally warm, enthusiastic welcome, he was greeted with the coldness of a winter storm.

“Oh, don't hm me. What do you say I ma—” His words traveled off as he fixed his gaze on you, witnessing you pushing the pink popsicle into your mouth, sucking on the tip as he blinked before focusing on you.

Teasing wasn’t as fun now that he was the one on the receiving end of it. That’s what you thought. You had been eager to watch his face contort with need. Longing to make him suffer the same way he had made you suffer throughout the entirety of your day. Shortly as you found yourself lost in thoughts, you were met with the dark, almost void look in his crimson eyes.

That almost emotionless look in his eyes, and he didn’t seem bothered by your actions. Instead, you’ve leaned further over the counter, not breaking the eye contact. There was a lot you had been expecting your boyfriend to do in response to your teasing. So you continued to deep-throat the icy treat. But when Soukouna reached into the fruit bowl on the counter, picking up a peach, your eyebrows twitched as you tried to figure out what he intended to do.

A split second passed before Sukuna reached for the knife block. He pulled out the pairing knife, still maintaining icon contact. You walked, and your boyfriend sliced into the fruit. Its sweet juices beat against the fuzzy skin. The second peach was split in half. Sukuna grabbed the pit of the peach, throwing it into the sink.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, continuing to suck on the popsicle in a very messy manner. Was he seriously going to sit there and eat a peach without saying anything? Before you could even continue to question his intentions, you came to the shocking realization that he wasn’t going to eat the peach.

Your big buff boyfriend leaned over the counter himself, holding the peach in one hand while the other gripped the counter with his other. You watched as his pierced tongue slid out of his mouth slowly, lapping at the inside of the peach; in a way, he typically ate you out. He ran his piercing over the indent of the peach where Sukuna re the tip of the pit was, where your clit would be. He ran his tongue over that spot over and over before his tongue slid back down, lapping over the juicy peach.

Watching him lapping at the peach in such a seductive manner made you choke at first. Your boyfriend snickered as he kept his burning gaze focused solely on you. What the fuck? Why was this so erotic?! Watching him eating out a peach, you were suddenly jealous.

“What’s wrong, Kitten?” He purred out cocking an eyebrow. The juices from the peach smeared over his mouth as he pulled away. “You can dish it out but can’t take it?”

“Mhmm~!” You hummed out aggressively, swirling your tongue over the top of the popsicle. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You whispered, running the tip of your tongue over what you pretended was the slit of your boyfriend's cock.

“Ah, okay, I see. You can pretend you’re not imagining that popsicle as my thick cock, but I’m pretending this.” He held the peach up. “Is your sweet cunt.”

His words sent fire to pool in your abdomen. “O-oh yeah?” You questioned as if you didn’t know that’s what he was doing.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t compare to you.” He growled as he flicked his tongue over the peach. “You’re so much wetter, sweeter, and make the prettiest sounds. I’d much rather bury my head between your thighs.”

“Yet you’re still licking the peach.”

“And you're still deepthroating a fucking popsicle.”

You weren’t going to break down first! You refused to when he had started the teasing this morning while you were at work. Even if the popsicle melted you had a freezer full of them to continue this stupid game.

“Mmm~haaah~” Sukuna moaned softly, flicking his tongue over the peach in strategic swipes, ones you were familiar with. “S,” Sukuna hummed before you watched his tongue quickly dip down, “U,” the pink tongue darted down before two quick flicks followed, “K—”

You were a liar.

You threw the popsicle to the floor before snatching the peach away from your boyfriend and throwing it into the sink. Your boyfriend's smirk didn’t even have a chance to tug at the corner of his mouth as you yanked him closer to you by the straps of his tank top. Not expecting you to falter so quickly, Sukuna barely had time to process what was happening before he was dragged around the kitchen island, where your lips slammed against his.

All cocky attitudes joined the discarded peach pit in the sink as you both threw yourselves at each other. The sweet, sticky taste of peaches and strawberries collapsed in a kaleidoscope of flavors as your tongues massaged each other as you fell to the tile floor, wrapping your limbs around your boyfriend. Clothes were tugged off, and belts were unbuckled before moans flooded the apartment, and neither of you intended to stop until you were a sticky, sweaty mess.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

[star-girl69]

I Did Something Bad

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: you somehow become the target of a deadly vendetta, and it ends in an overnight stay in the infirmary, a lot of blood, and a lot of your scary girlfriend being her scary self.

a/n: save me clarisse “touch her and die” la rue save me save me save me save me save me save me… this is a completely self indulgent fic and no i will not apologize. love y’all!!!!!

inspired by an ask @nvirskies sent me

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

warnings: not proofread, VERY VIOLENT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF Y/N GETTING INJURED!!!!! BLOOD!!!!! WOUNDS!!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, anyways…. DANNNNNYYYYYY MY BABY!!!!! HES BACK!!!!!, ares cabin bonding time <3, FOUND FAMILY, y/n is crazy too, insane power couple who are insane together!!, y’all know what’s going on…… protective clarisse, possessive clarisse, insane clarisse, murderous clarisse, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, swearing, attempted murder!, LOTS of violence, kissing, clarisse hates talking about her feelings but she will do it for y/n, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

It’s the one place where she really gets to be in her element. That’s where she prefers to be- in the moment, hard and fast, a flurry of swords and adrenaline and the feeling of someone surrendering.

Of course, Clarisse is never the one surrendering. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone surrender to her.

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

And that love is also shared by her equally violently-minded siblings, which is why you’re sitting on her lap in the middle of the Ares cabin, listening to everyone scream and shout about tactics and plans and things that are just general boring.

Clarisse, of course, listens to everything. Silently humming to herself, drumming her fingers against your stomach, rolling her eyes and scoffing silently at some of her siblings ideas.

They all shout out ideas, but everyone knows that Clarisse has the final say.

You should probably be preparing with your own cabin- but this is just so much fun.

The tension in the room rises significantly after Nelson shuts down another one of Carrie’s ideas. Carrie has a mind made for the strategy of battle, where Nelson is all tough war and pain.

Clarisse likes to brag that she’s the perfect mix of both.

“I’m bored,” you huff, leaning back into your girlfriend. “Can they start punching each other again? Or something entertaining?”

She laughs and wraps her arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. “You’re so violent,” she mumbles. “I’m supposed to be the violent one.”

“I jus’ think it’s really funny,” you shrug. “Like, can you blame me? It’s objectively funny.”

Danny, your favorite of Clarisse’s siblings, skitters through his older siblings and throws himself onto the couch next to you.

“Did they start fighting yet?” he asks, practically bouncing in his seat.

“No,” you sigh, dramatically.

Clarisse puts her arm around his shoulder, and you know she feels ridiculously proud over the fact that she’s the favorite of the most lovable member of the Ares cabin, and the fact you’re literally draped over her.

Not your fault she’s so comfy.

“Hey, how you feelin’ about tomorrow?” you ask Danny.

His face hardens. “I’m gonna fuck a bitch up.”

“Oh, my Gods,” you mutter, listening to Clarisse chuckle and pat his back.

“Hell yeah,” she smiles.

“Good!” you say after a second, feeling slightly disturbed over the 11 year-old’s colorful language. But, who are you to stop him?

Clarisse sighs after a moment, and you look up to see Carrie and Nelson finally at each other’s throats. Besides for the fact it’s just so funny when the siblings fight, they should get all of the anger out now so they can work as a team tomorrow.

“Well, no, Nelson, we aren’t gonna fucking ‘kill them with kindness,’ because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey, fuckers,” Clarisse says, but they’re too absorbed in the fight to hear her.

You scramble off of her, climbing over Danny, watching in amazement as he opens the bag of pretzels he did not have in his hand a second ago- stuffing one in his mouth and holding it out to you.

These pretzels might have been buried in between the couch cushions. But they’re sealed, so who cares.

“You know what, fuck you, Carrie!” Nelson shouts, pushing her back.

“Askin’ for it,” she laughs, winding up and punching him straight in the face.

You can’t feel bad for the crunch, because Nelson should have know Carrie was gonna punch him- he could have at least put in an effort to stop her. Instead, he just stood there and took it.

“Oh,” Matty winces, sliding next to you. Why the hell are random things just appearing? Did he come out of the cushions too? Probably, seeing as he’s always falling asleep. “Askin’ for it,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

Nelson recovers from the hit and jabs at Carrie- but she stands there, hand on her hip, completely still.

Clarisse catches his arm.

He’s breathing out heavily, and the room goes pretty much silent- except for you, Danny and Matty chomping on pretzels in the corner of the couch.

“You’re fuckin’ embarrassing, Nelson.”

He pulls himself away from her and huffs, heading to the bathroom to deal with his bright red cheek.

Clarisse sighs heavily.

“Gods, can’t have one night without someone punching someone.”

Carrie looks around the room with a smug smile, scoffing when Clarisse shoulders her as she walks past. She lays down in your waiting arms, kissing your hand as you wrap them around her.

“Gettin’ on my nerves,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and leaning into you.

“I know,” you soothe, turning around and making a silly face to Danny at her dramatics.

—-

Nelson is obviously still angry the next day. His helmet doesn’t cover all of the nasty bruise on his cheek, a sickening purple against his tan skin.

Him and Carrie swap glares across the the throngs of red helmets.

“Okay, Carrie, stop,” you huff. “He might actually kill you. You’re the one who got a punch in- let it go.”

She turns to glare at you, now.

“Tell him to stop staring at me.”

“Well, you can help by looking away first.”

“Fine,” she mumbles, putting her helmet on and tightening her grip on her sword. Chiron made his usual speech around 10 minutes ago, and Clarisse has finally finished updating everyone- more like yelling incoherently at everyone- about their positions.

But you have a similar strategy.

The blue team has the brains of the Athena Cabin, but the red team has all the brute strength.

Clarisse huffs, walking over to you and Carrie.

“Okay, ready?” she asks, reaching over to tighten the straps of your armor- even through they’re perfectly fine- by habit.

Carrie let’s out a deep breath. “Yes. Very ready to fuckin’ pummel those blue shits and pretend they’re Nelson.”

“That’s the spirit!” you smile, slapping her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and steps away from you, smiling slightly.

Danny and Matty walk over, and your little band is complete. You hunt in the woods just south of the flag, deterring a lot of hopefuls. The older campers know to come up with sneakier ways to get by, but Clarisse is otherwise confident in those she placed by the flag to really protect it.

You strike out into an offensive stance, pointing the end of your blade straight at Danny- and he quickly counters with his own impeccable stance.

“Oh, yeah, they don’t stand a chance,” you smile, and he returns it.

—-

You take your normal routes through the woods.

With the added weight of you and Danny, the group is not as stealthy as they could be- but Clarisse is a secret teddy bear who doesn’t like to be away from you for long, and Danny is too young to be set loose, left to watch the big kids work, occasionally jumping in for a few swings.

Leaves crunch under your feet in the otherwise silent forest. You’ve already come across a few stragglers, and before you could even raise your sword the Ares siblings had disarmed them. Your heart squeezed seeing the absolutely heartbroken look on Danny’s face- he was promised that this time he could really fight.

And after you pulled Clarisse off to the side and reminded her of her deal- Danny was leading the group, with you and Clarisse behind him.

He marches tall and proud, sword pointed out, even though Clarisse scolds him and says his arm will get tired- he’s young and doesn’t listen to his half-sibling.

You smile, watching him, admiring how carefree he is. The walk continues mostly in a stealthy silence- Clarisse, Carrie and Matty has mastered the art of walking silently- so your cover is lost by you and Danny.

Of course, whenever you try to convince Clarisse that maybe you should go somewhere else- she looks at you like you’ve suddenly turned into a female Minotaur.

Clarisse, her hand in yours right now, has a hard time understanding the concept that she can’t be with you all the time. That you might get hurt, that she can’t always stop it.

It’s sweet how constantly concerned she is over you, it makes your stomach twist so good.

She squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your reverie. Voices.

“Danny,” you whisper, almost silently, kicking the back of his leg. When he turns around, frown on his face, you point towards the direction of the voices- and now footsteps.

You all stop in your tracks.

Danny practically jumps up in down, you smile wide, and Clarisse signals to Carrie and Matty, urging you and Danny closer to the action.

When they come into the clearing, a few Hermes kids dressed in blue bandanas, swords in their hands. They’re all strong, you’ve seen them around- recognize them vaguely as potentials that lost to Clarisse in ugly sparring matches.

The siblings have disappeared into the trees.

So it’s just you, unsuspecting, and Danny.

You can see the triumphant looks on their faces.

Except for one of them.

Nicky, maybe? You don’t care enough about him to know his name. But there’s something more in his eyes that you notice immediately, something similar to the passion Clarisse gets in her eyes at the mention of this game.

Danny jumps forward, sword swinging just the way his blood knows, the way his siblings have taught him meticulously.

They seem momentarily surprised at the force his small body can produce, quickly countering with their own jabs, swords clashing together. The other focuses on you.

You’re not worried, you know the siblings are just letting the two of you have your moments before they really come in and you can sit back and watch Clarisse fight. Muscles rippling, sick smile on her face, spear glowing with electricity.

He comes at you and your swords clash together, the force of it making your teeth ring- Gods, he’s strong. He pulls back and you do the same thing a few more times, neither of you able to get the upper hand- until he finally seems to realize his height advantage.

He swings his sword down on you, pressing down hard- and with gravity on his side you have to put all of your focus into stopping that downward sword.

You don’t see his foot coming out to kick you back.

You only feel it, boot in your chest, wind knocked out of you, groaning as you slam into the ground.

“Fuck,” you breathe, tasting blood in your mouth.

“Y/N!” Danny shouts, and that’s when you see his sword coming down on you again. He does it on purpose, that much is sword, the strategic placing of his sword slicing through the top of your arm.

He doesn’t mean to kill you. He means to hurt you.

His purpose isn’t winning the game, you realize as the blade tears through skin, his purpose is to hurt you. That’s what you saw in his eyes.

Delight that his prey was right in front of him.

The realization washes over you like a wave- but like the real ocean, another one comes- an overwhelming feeling of pain, blooming outward like a flower.

He bites his lip in concentration, standing over you as his blade sinks into the dirt. He smiles wide, hitting his target.

You scream.

It’s a quick stop. The clearing is filled with the sound of your screams, swords stopping in midair- everyone realizing simultaneously that you’re really hurt. That this boy hurt you on purpose.

Something cuts through the air, wind in your ears, swiftly burying itself through Nicky’s armor and into his side.

You’ve realized in the last day that men are stupid. First, it was Nelson not expecting to get punched, and now it was Nicky not prepared for a retaliation after hurting you.

The thick armor slowed down the spear, so it unfortunately stabs his side and falls right out.

He yells in pain, ripping off his armor, revealing a small cut. Nothing compared to yours, but you can faintly recognize the fire in his eyes before Matty is leaning over you and Carrie is wrapping a bandana above the pain in your arm.

You hear the sounds of something happening, someone fighting, skin on skin.

You hear all of this, you see all of it, but all you can feel is the burning, burning cut in your arm. It feels like he cut it off. Your mind is hazy, you know blood is gushing, you never knew something could hurt this bad.

You faintly realize you bit your tongue when you went down. Blood spurts from your mouth when you cough, when you groan in pain, when you say her name like a prayer over and over again.

“Clarisse,” you moan, legs twisting around, trying to get away from the pain that you can’t escape from. “Clarisse, Clarisse, please, Clar…”

Matty pulls your head into his lap.

You can tell it’s bad, you can see the queasy look on his face. You clench your fist- the one you can feel, at least- to keep from screaming, heels digging into the dirt. You’re still trying to get away. But you can’t. You can’t get away from this all consuming pain.

“It’s okay,” Danny whispers, suddenly appearing next to you. He voice shakes, he doesn’t know, he can’t tell you anything reassuring.

“Can you go find someone, Danny? One of the Apollo kids, anyone?”

He ignores Carrie, starring at you for a second longer.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, his voice quiet, finally able to act like the young boy he is.

“You can go,” you breathe, somehow finding the strength to make him believe you’re okay. “Go help me, okay?”

His little footsteps disappear into the woods faster than you’ve ever heard him run, even when they have his favorite brownies for dessert.

You let out a sob.

“D-did he cut it off?” you moan. “It feels like he cut it off, please tell me he didn’t… he didn’t cut my arm off…”

“Oh, fuck, no,” Carrie breathes, pressing down agains the wound to try and stop the blood from gushing out- but it doesn��t really help. It’s just too much. “I mean, it’s deep and it’s nasty, but you’ve still got an arm, don’t worry.”

She laughs, awkwardly, nervously. You can feel even more of your arm drifting away, blood pouring out onto the ground.

“Hey, hey, no,” Matty mutters, lightly hitting your face.

“Wha-”

“Can’t fall asleep, Y/N,” Carrie says, nervously. “Sit up against Matty, come on, huh?” you lean against Matty, head clearing now that there’s fresh air in your system.

Your eyes focus on Clarisse.

Except she’s not anywhere near you, she’s 10 feet away, punching Nicky so hard you’re surprised he’s still standing.

Carrie cringes. “Okay, maybe don’t look at that.”

But you’re sort of entranced by her. She’s not outwardly angry, her face reveals nothing- just a mask of hard, unrelenting focus. It should scare you, how much concentration she puts into her deadly punches, blood flying with each hit she lands. Her knuckles are red, his face is a mess, but it’s exhilarating to know she would do this for you.

A sickening crack rents the air. “My fucking nose, fuck, fuck, screw you, you fucking bitch! Fuck-”

The smallest smile creeps it way onto her face. She wipes her mouth, leaving blood on her lips- but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“I can keep going!” she shouts back, grabbing his shirt. “You wanna do that shit? I’m only getting started. I’m gonna throw you around, then I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”

“Wait! Wait, okay, wait, shit,” he breathes, holding his hands up in surrender. Blood pours from his nose, down to her hand bunched in his shirt. He’s taller than her, yet he’s surrendering.

“You’re pathetic,” she hisses, pushing him back. He hits the ground with a groan, trying to grab for a rock, a sword, anything to defend himself against Clarisse and her fury.

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

One of the reasons why she does is because she gets to let out all her anger. She looks at you, but not in your eyes- she looks at the wound on your arm. You can see the red pouring out of the corner of your eye- but you choose to ignore it, instead focusing on the way the fire inside of her gets relit at the sight of your blood. She has plenty reason to be angry now.

She grabs her spear, sauntering over to him, laughing at the way he can’t even try to get up.

“So fuckin’ stupid,” she smiles, tilting her head. Then the tip of her spear is pointing right at his neck, she’s standing over him the way he did to you. “How’s it feel?” she smiles.

He coughs, hissing in pain.

“I’m scared, Clarisse, okay? You got your fucking revenge, but it wasn’t me.”

She laughs, loud and boisterous. “I just saw you cut her, dumbass. I really should kill you, just as a favor to the world.”

“Paid me,” he coughs. “Drachmas, in exchange for hurting your girlfriend-”

She presses the blade against his throat, he yells out.

“Who?”

He stays silent.

“Who?!” she yells, kicking his stomach.

“Nelson!” he screams. “Nelson! Nelson paid me, please, Clarisse-”

She moves the blade away, and he hisses- she probably just barely drew blood.

“I’m not done yet,” she whispers, deadly promise dripping from her words. She turns around, fades out of focus for a second, and then she’s right next to you.

Her hands are cupping your face, she looks sick, seeing you like this up close- but all she does is kiss your forehead. Like you, she doesn’t want to look at your flesh and blood.

“I’m here, I’m here, oh, fuck. Gods, what the fuck,” she mumbles, looking very pointedly away from the wound, finally seeing how bad it is up close.

“Clarisse.”

“I know,” she whispers, smoothing your hair back. “I know, baby, I know, but it’s gonna be okay.”

Danny runs into the clearing, shouting “just over here” while healers follow him, immediately groaning at the smell of blood, the sight of it.

Clarisse switches places with Matty, holding you against her, kissing your head again and again, muttering about how brave you are.

You almost laugh at the odd looks the Apollo kids give her, unused to seeing the big bad Clarisse so soft. But they just don’t know her like you do. She doesn’t love them like she loves you.

One of them starts to clean the blood, and your eyes drift shut as the other starts to mend your skin back together.

—-

You wake up with familiar curly hair in your face.

You spit it out, groaning, mouth feeling fuzzy, everything feelings fuzzy.

“Clarisse?” you mumble, eyes not even open, but you wake up with that hair in your mouth everyday, and you’ve memorized the weight of her arm around your waist.

She sits up immediately, jumping out of bed, standing up and fixing her messy hair like someone’s gonna be there.

“Um, hello? I was speaking, crazy girl.”

“Oh, thank Gods,” she mumbles, blowing hair out of her face and sitting back down. “Thought we got caught.”

You look at her, then your surroundings-

“Oh, holy shit,” she says, staring at you like a deer in headlights. “Wait, you’re awake. You’re awake!”

She throws her arms around you, burying her face into your neck, reverberating with the sound of your laughter.

“You make it sound like I’ve been in a coma for 10 years.” Your heart drops. “Have I… been asleep for a while?”

“Um,” she says, softly, biting her lip as she extricated herself from your neck. “Capture the flag was yesterday, so… no.”

“So you’re just being dramatic?”

“Possibly,” she smiles. “It’s not my fault you’ve taken over my entire brain.” She shows her bruised knuckles, split open, already starting to scab. “I said not to fix ‘em up. They don’t hurt that bad, and they look fucking cool.”

You grab her hands, relieved it’s only been a day, kissing the rough scabs. She blushes, although she tries her best not to, breathing in deeply.

“How are you feeling, baby?”

You look towards your totally healed arm, finally realizing that you know have full control of your hands, unlike yesterday. It’s wrapped in a bandage for precautions, but it feels totally healed.

“All good,” you smile.

“You gotta take it real easy for the next week or so, yeah?” she fusses, brushing hair behind your ear. “So you call me, or one of my siblings, anyone to help you with anything. No lifting heavy stuff, don’t do anything too fast- you might tear the healing.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll carry me around like a princess?” you giggle, laying back, inviting her into your arms. She gets back under the covers, head against your chest so she can hear your heartbeat.

“That’s not a bad idea, actually. Practical. Very safe.”

You hit her shoulder. “I’m joking.”

“Eh, I’ll change your mind.”

You smile, running your hands through her hair, enjoying the early mornings with her warmth against you, soft sunlight peeking through windows.

She sits up after a moment, laying her head back on the pillow, arm back around your waist. She just sits there for a moment, you can feel her admiring you. Clarisse doesn’t look at you. She traces your face with her eyes, imagining it was her hands, her lips, she admires you like she sees a reverence in your eyes that has nothing to do with your godly parent.

“Can you promise me something?” she asks, whispering softly, even though you’re the only two people around.

“What?” you say, staring at the ceiling, feeling like you might fall back asleep.

“Don’t get hurt. Like, ever again, please.”

You smile. “Okay, baby,” you mumble.

“I’m serious,” she smiles, nudging your cheek with her nose. “I… I was really scared. And I don’t like to feel that way, especially when it comes to you. I was angry, too. I was so fuckin’ angry I’m surprised I didn’t kill him. You can’t get hurt like that, not again, you just gotta let me protect you. Or else I might actually kill someone, Y/N.”

“I know,” you mumble. “I watched you.”

“Did I scare you?” she asks, voice soft. There’s no hint of your loving, smiley Clarisse in this bed right now. She’s worried, as if she could ever scare you.

“No,” you say, honestly. “It’s sweet how far you’re willing to go for me.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “You better like it. Do you know what I got for that? Eight months no dessert. Five months cleaning the fuckin’ stables.”

You barely hide your laugh. “Oh, my Gods, are you serious?”

“Yes,” she grumbles. “But, I’ve decided it’s fine. You’re my loving girlfriend, right? You can sit there all pretty so I have something to look at when I’m cleaning. And you’ll share your dessert with me, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, turning your head. “I will.”

“I really love you. My perfect pretty princess,” she jokes, smiling lopsidedly, and you return it. “You’ll let me protect you, and maybe I can get some decent sleep at night, huh?”

When she presses her hand to your face and her lips to yours, you think nothing could possible ruin this moment. It’s just you and her, and everything that’s beautiful.

“You always protect me, Clar,” you smile.

She smiles, lips grazing yours. This is your Clarisse. The one who smiles just for you, who puts her rough hand softly against your face. This is your Clarisse, the one who would do anything for you, the one who wants to carry you around, the one who wants to protect you and hold you and never let anyone fuck with her baby.

The door slams open, someone is laughing boisterously, another person is groaning in pain, and a familiar voice is shouting your names.

“Clarisse! Y/N! Clarisse, Clarisse! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Danny shouts, dragging out the last syllable of your name. He jumps onto the bed by your feet, even when Clarisse frowns, looking at you like a puppy dog who’s just brought a dead bird to your doorstep.

And as you look at the scene behind you, Nelson being laid on another bed, Carrie being helped into the corner- laughing hysterically, knuckles split open.

Nelson’s face is practically unrecognizable.

You suppose Danny really did bring something unsavory like a dead bird, dropping it right at your feet.

“So, we all woke up right?”

Your eyes whip to Danny, shocked as he know launches into a story about Carrie waking up to Nelson saying he hadn’t been called to the Big House yet, maybe he would get away from it- but swiftly received punishment in the form of Carrie’s fists. With Clarisse in your bed, no one had the guts to stop them, and they fought for what must have been 10 minutes- Nelson very obviously losing.

“And, now we’re here,” Danny sighs, breathing out after his long and embellished rant. “But you’re awake, Y/N!”

He looks at your skeptically- specifically, at your arm.

“Can I hug you?”

“Oh,” you smile, your heart twisting with such a fondness for this wonderful little kid. “Of course you can, Danny,” you smile, opening your arms wide.

“Yes, just be careful,” Clarisse cautions, her arm around your waist. “Watch the arm, huh?”

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse,” you mumble, breath messing his hair.

“He’s 11.”

“Baby,” you reinforce, squeezing him tighter.

“Y/N… you’re crushing me,” he groans.

“Oops,” you say, letting him go. “You’re just too cute,” you coo.

Clarisse scoffs from next to you. You smile, kissing her cheek. “You’re beautiful. Scary, dangerous. Not cute, though.”

She hums. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Carrie walks over, sporting her split knuckles, also opting to let them heal naturally like Clarisse. She shows them off with a wide smile, even as Nelson screams in the background when they reset his nose.

Matty rubs his temples.

You smile, looking around at your very dysfunctional, very awkward, but loving family-adjacent.

“Hey, did we end up winning the game?” you ask.

Clarisse snorts. “Oh, nah. Without us, they were lost. Who cares, though?”

“Yeah, I liked beating Nelson up much more than I would have liked winning,” Carrie smiles.

“Next time,” Danny starts, “Can I lead again?”

Clarisse squints at him. “…Maybe.”

You wink at him, nodding subtly.

“Okay!” he smiles.

Clarisse kisses your forehead.

“I love you, pretty baby,” she mumbles.

You smile. “I love you too, scary baby.”

—-

clarisse when she sees y/n get hurt: oh so the only natural response to to THROW A FUCKING SPEAR AT SOMEONE

appreciation for the fact she threw it from like really far away and just tore through his armor likkkkeeee

nelson and nicky sitting in the infirmary together hugging each other terrified clarisse and carrie are going to come back for more

nicky does not sleep at night anymore SHE SAID SHE WASNT DONE

—-

shout out to my baby danny he carried this fic fr

shoutout to y/n for getting WRECKED so we could have this beautiful moment w clarisse

shoutout to matty for being his beautiful self

shoutout to carrie for being her violent self

and finally shoutout to clarisse for being overprotective and insane

—-

clarisse after she actually convinced y/n to let her carry her around everywhere: 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

bitch is so happy…

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

[itneverendshere]

wait , pouge! reader not coming to work after a huge storm and rafes worried he hasn’t seen her or heard from her in a while, so he goes to checks and o maybe she’s been trying to fix something that happened? like a fallen tree in her driveway, or no electrician has come to help her turn the lights on

scared of nothin' & i'm scared to death - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader word count: 2.9k

from this universe: birds of a feather & it could be you and me (this is before they start dating eheh)

Rafe Cameron rarely felt scared. 

He hardly knew what that meant. He knew anger, violence and gut-wrenching pain, but never fear.

Storms were common in the Outer Banks. He never gave them a second thought; his house was more than equipped to handle them.

But last night, as he stared out at the growing storm from his mansion's balcony, something in his chest tightened. He couldn’t stop imagining the image of you—you, living in a run-down house on the edge of The Cut. The wind picked up, howling through the trees as the sky turned darker by the minute. His knuckles went white against the balcony rail.

He was scared.

Somehow, the pretty bartender from the country club had nailed the final nail in the coffin. He was smitten, there was no way back. He'd been a goner since the first day he drove you home.

So, when you didn’t show up for your shift earlier this morning, he panicked. He hadn’t seen you or the beat-up car you’d recently started to drive to work. He hated that stupid car with all his power, but you’d looked at him so happily that he could hardly scold you for driving around a safety hazard on the nights he couldn’t get you home.

He had called you nine times already. Each time, it had gone straight to voicemail. His texts were left on read—or maybe not even read at all. He couldn’t tell. He knew the power was probably out in half of The Cut, and maybe that explained why you hadn't answered, but it didn’t ease the knot of panic growing in his gut.

The storm had been a beast—trees were down, power lines were tangled. There was no sign of you and that fear just wouldn’t leave him alone. 

By lunchtime, he was freaking the fuck out.

He knew you didn’t always have a reliable ride, especially with that piece of shit thing you called car, and he had promised himself that he would always be there to make sure you got home safely after your shifts, as often as he could. But now, with no word from you and no sign of you at work, he was convinced that something had gone wrong.

“Rafe, you alright, man?” Topper’s voice cut through his thoughts as he sipped his beer at the Wreck. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He looked up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, just—uh, just worried about someone.”

Topper raised an eyebrow, “Anyone I know?”

“Mind your fucking business.”

"Alright, chill, man. Just asking."

Where the hell were you? His phone buzzed on the table, and he snatched it up, hoping it was you. It wasn’t. Just another useless notification that only made his frustration grow.

“Dude,” Topper started again, this time more carefully, “is it her? The girl from the club?”

Rafe stiffened. He hadn’t told anyone how deep this thing with you went. He wasn’t going to jinx the best thing that had happened to him in years. But he was on the verge of losing it. 

“Yeah,” he finally muttered, “It’s her.”

Topper nodded slowly, “You want to go look for her?”

Rafe hesitated. He hated the idea of any of his friends having the pleasure of meeting you, you were too good for any of them, himself included. But he was running out of options.

“Yeah,” he said it more firmly this time. “Let’s go.”

He stood up so fast his chair nearly fell over. He had to find you, and he had to find you now. Topper downed the last of his beer and followed him out of the Wreck without another word. 

The drive to your house felt longer than usual, even though he was speeding through the roads, having to swerve around fallen branches and debris scattered across the asphalt. The closer he got to your place the more scared he felt.

When he finally pulled up to your driveway, his heart dropped to his feet.

A massive tree had fallen across the entrance, blocking any vehicle from getting through. Your car was nowhere in sight, and the house looked scarily quiet.

“Shit,” Rafe muttered under his breath, slamming the car door behind him. Topper was right behind him as he made his way toward the house, climbing over the fallen tree with ease.

He knocked on your front door, first gently, then with increasing force. 

“Sweetheart? You in there?” he called, his voice louder than he intended. There was no answer. It wasn’t helping his nerves at all. He wasn’t about to wait around, though. He tried the door handle—it was locked.

“What if she’s not home?” 

“I’m getting in there one way or another,” Rafe snapped, his patience completely gone. He circled around the house, looking for another way in, when he noticed a side window cracked open. He didn’t think twice before pushing it up and hauling himself through it.

“Dude, seriously?” Topper groaned from outside, but he ignored him. He landed in what looked like your living room, immediately taking in the mess of scattered items, likely from the storm. He’d never been inside your house before. 

“Sweetheart?” He called again, moving through the house with long strides. He could feel the panic rising higher in his chest.

And then, he heard it—a faint noise coming from down the hallway. He followed it, his heart pounding in his ears. When he reached your bedroom, he found you sitting on the floor, trying to untangle wires from a flashlight, your phone dead beside you. The relief that took over his entire body was so overwhelming he nearly collapsed. 

“Rafe?” you looked up, confused, not expecting him to be there. Your face was smudged with dirt, and you looked exhausted.

“What the hell are you doing?” He dropped to his knees next to you, ignoring the way his voice sounded a little strained. He crouched closer, beside you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You let out a shaky laugh, “I—I’ve been trying to get the power back on. The storm knocked out everything, and the tree in the driveway…I didn’t know who to call, and then my phone died.”

Me, he wanted to scream. You should’ve called him. He wanted to be angry at you for not picking up, for not letting him know you were okay.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, his voice all rough around the edges. The thought of you here, alone was going to send him into a spiral, "You should've called me," he reached for the dead phone beside you. "You know you don’t have to deal with this shit alone."

"I tried, but then everything went out. I didn’t want to bother anyone. I figured I'd just wait it out."

Rafe shook his head, his hand still lingering on your cheek for a moment before he pulled it back, resisting the urge to drag you into his arms. Bother anyone? He wanted to laugh. Didn’t you fucking know by now? He would drop everything the second you needed him.

“Really, didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted, feeling a little silly now that he was here.

“Bother me?” He echoed in disbelief. “I’ve been worried sick.”

“I didn’t mean to make you worry. I just didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem,” he cut you off, “You never think about yourself. You’re always so damn worried about everyone else, but what about you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just—don’t do that again,” He nearly pleaded, pulling you into his arms. He held you tightly like he was afraid you’d disappear again if he let go, "You scared the hell out of me," he confessed, "I thought something happened to you."

You weren’t used to someone caring that much, and especially not someone like Rafe Cameron. 

You leaned into him, finally letting go of the tension that had been knotting in your stomach all day. “I won’t,” you promised, closing your eyes.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re staying with me until this place is fixed up. No arguments.”

You blinked up at him, not sure how to respond to that. He was a complicated guy—intense and often described as a little scary by most people—but in that moment, you could see the truth in his eyes. He wasn’t leaving.

You were too tired to argue, and honestly, the idea of not being alone sounded amazing, “Okay.”

Topper peeked his head in the room, awkwardly glancing between you two. 

"Everything cool in here?"

"Yeah, Top," Rafe said without looking back, his focus solely on you. "She's fine. We’re heading out.”

Topper nodded, “You want me to drive? There’s not much room up front with all the stuff you’ve got in there.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly “Nah, you’re sitting in the back. She’s riding up front with me.”

“In the back?”

You looked between the two men, amused by the way Topper seemed slightly offended yet intrigued. 

“It’s okay, I can sit—"

Rafe cut you off, shaking his head firmly. “No fucking way. You’re sitting up front with me. End of discussion.” 

There was a certain protectiveness in the way he spoke, like the idea of anyone else being close to you right now was simply unacceptable. Top, always sensing when to stay out of his way, just shrugged and backed out of the room, leaving the two of you alone again. 

He needed you close. Needed to make sure you were okay, even if you didn’t have a single scratch on your body. You felt a smile tug at your lips at Rafe’s insistence. He was so endearing to you. You knew he’d find you critically insane if you said it out loud. 

“Come on,” he stood up and offered his hand to help you off the floor. His touch was firm but gentle, his fingers lingering against yours for a second longer than necessary.

You glanced around your room, realizing how much of a mess it was—the scattered clothes, the tangled flashlight that was still not working, "I should probably clean up first," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed by how little you had.

He shook his head immediately. “No, not now. You can come back later. M’ not leaving you here alone tonight, again.”

You wanted to protest, but something about the way he said it made you bite back your tongue. You quickly learned there was no point in fighting him when his mind was set like this.

"Okay," you agreed quietly.

His jaw unclenched slightly at your compliance, and he helped you gather a few things—a change of clothes, your phone charger, and anything else you might need for the night. Once you had everything packed, he led you back out through the house. The debris in the hallway didn’t seem as overwhelming with him by your side.

You climbed back out the same window he had crawled through earlier, and Topper was waiting by the car, kicking at a loose rock with his shoe to pass the time. Rafe guided you to the passenger side. He opened the door for you, his hand brushing your lower back as you slid into the seat. As soon as you were seated, he leaned over, his hand brushing against your shoulder as he grabbed the seatbelt. 

"Let me," he murmured, his breath brushing against your cheek as he clicked the seatbelt into place. His closeness made you hold your breath, but you managed to keep your composure, offering him a small nod of thanks.

He stayed in that position for a moment, his face inches from yours, searching your face for any sign of distress. You could see the gears turning in his brain. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he gave the seatbelt a final tug to make sure it was secure, then slowly leaned back, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re okay.”

He said it quietly, more to himself than to you, before he climbed in behind the wheel, looking over at you, one more time, like he was making sure you were really there, really safe.

You offered him a crooked grin, trying to reassure him that you were okay, “I’m fine.”

Without thinking, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips—a fleeting cute peck, just enough to show him your gratitude and affection. His lips were warm, slightly chapped from the day, but they felt perfect against yours. It was quick, but you knew you’d think about this moment for the rest of your life.

Rafe blinked, momentarily thrown off, but then his lips gave in to a small, genuine smile—a rare sight for him. He liked it. He liked it more than he should. He liked everything about you since day one. It felt like you were put on this earth to be with him.

Topper, ever the babbler, leaned forward from the back seat, knocking on the headrest. “Hey, lovebirds, you planning on leaving, or should I get comfortable back here?”

“Shut the fuck up Topper,” Rafe muttered, cheeks red, his eyes not leaving yours. 

You giggled softly, the sound melting the last of the tension remaining in his body. His heart was still racing, but now for a different reason. He revved the engine, giving Topper a sideways glare before pulling out of your driveway. 

“Yeah, shut up Topper,” You snorted, finding their friendship hilarious. 

Rafe couldn’t help but grin. The way you so easily fit into his world, bantering with his friends like you’d been doing it for years, only made him fall harder.

“Oh great,” Topper sighed, throwing his head back against his seat, “There’s two of you now.”

Rafe smirked, casting a glance in the rearview mirror at his friend, “Get used to it.”

The car sped through the dark, storm-damaged streets, he kept his eyes on the road, but his hand found its way to rest on the console between you, his fingers brushing against yours now and then, whether intentional or not.

You couldn't help but sneak a glance at him, your heart doing a little flip each time. You’d known Rafe for a while now. You knew he had your heart the first day you met him, but tonight? The way he rushed to you, the way he wouldn’t take no for an answer, it was like seeing a different side of him. A side you were starting to fall for, hard.

“Where are we going?” you asked breaking the silence, though you weren’t really concerned about the destination. Being with him was enough.

“My place.”

There was always a certainty in his tone, that easy confidence that made you feel secure, like as long as you were with him, everything would be okay.

From the back seat, Topper sighed dramatically, “Man, this is some romantic shit, but I’m starving. Can we hit a drive-thru or something?”

You and Rafe exchanged a glance, both of you stifling a laugh.

“You always thinking about food, Top?” Rafe grumbled, though there was a lightness in his voice now.

“I didn’t get to finish my damn burger because someone decided to bolt out of The Wreck in a panic,” Topper shot back, leaning forward to poke his head between the front seats.

Rafe rolled his eyes, but you could tell he appreciated the distraction. “Fine. We’ll stop somewhere, you’re buying.”

Topper groaned. “As if you don’t have enough money to feed half the island, but sure, man, I’ll buy your girl a meal.”

You felt a heat rise in your cheeks at the mention of being Rafe’s girl. 

He didn’t deny it.

[endless-ineffabilities]

sapphire-hearted (part five) 18+

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

The reader decides to give Aemond a proper goodbye - one that befits what became of the bond they share.

themes/warnings: smut (minors dni) - a bitter breakup roll in the hay, jealous and possessive and idiotic Aemond

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Aegon's jeering from the great hall has barely subsided before you harshly pull yourself away from Aemond's hold.

"Seven fucking hells, Aemond," you exclaim, your voice ringing in the empty hallway. "Why did you do that? Why must you humiliate me in such a way?"

"You humiliate me," he spits, matching your venom, "by declaring yourself as betrothed to that snivelling bastard."

"He is no bastard," you seethe, your finger poking at his chest. "He is a gentle Lord, and a far more decent man than you will ever be. And I am certain that he will honour me when he soon becomes my Lord husband."

"No." Aemond lurches forward, cradling your face with both hands. There is pressure to his hold - he is letting his anger take over him. "No, my love," he repeats, softer, his shoulders releasing their tension.

Your resolve falters at his words. They used to be a thing you would spin in your mind, over and over, an endless song to sing. My love. "You cannot me call me that, Aemond," you murmur. "That is no longer true, if indeed it ever was."

"You doubt me so," he lowers his head, as if wounded.

But you do not have it in you to soften your approach. "You have given me every reason to doubt you, Aemond. I can no longer trust you. Not after Alys."

At the mention of her name, he is rendered alert, a wild look in his eye. "Yes. Alys."

"I do not wish to hear of her," you step away from him, but he only moves in your path.

"I have something to tell you, my love." He reaches for your hand, and you are too exhausted, too uncaring to fight back. "She has agreed to put an early end to our arrangement. Yet she will continue to aid our cause, ensuring that we win the war."

It seemed too good to be true. You are unable to believe that the witch would simply relinquish the power she has with Aemond. And you are proven correct when he adds, "But she presents one condition. I must give her a child."

The absurdity of it all makes your head spin, and suddenly your skirts weigh far too much for you to bear. Without realizing it, you lean into Aemond for support, seeking balance. He mistakes the gesture for approval - how foolish of him.

"That is ridiculous, Aemond," you croak harshly, your words coming out garbled.

"My love, what - "

"I am afraid you have lost me completely," you pull back, eyes darting around for reprieve. You cannot bring yourself to look at him, your gaze distant and hollow, fixated on nothing. With icy detachment, you murmur, "Go on, then. Wed her, if that is what you wish. Why stop at just making her the mother of your child?"

"You cannot mean that." He flinches at the suggestion.

Taking a deep breath, in finality, you declare, "We have to end whatever we have, Aemond. For both of our sakes. For the sake of your future children with Alys, and mine with Ramsay. We must part ways... and say goodbye."

His expression switches, desperation showing through the cracks in his mask of self-assuredness.

"No." He steps back, instantly rejecting your words. In his warped mind, the thought of separation is impossible. He could never leave you, and you could never leave him. That’s how it has always been, and how it always will be.

To his credit, he actually appears pained. For a moment, you see your Aemond. The only one you have ever loved. You are certain that his pain is reflected in you now.

You reach a hand out, and he tentatively accepts it.

Without a word, you lead him through the halls of the Red Keep.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"To my chambers," you reply firmly. "We both deserve a proper goodbye."

When you reach your destination, the unbearable weight of everything comes crashing down on you. This will be your true final moment with Aemond. You will never get to hold him, kiss him, feel him buried inside of you after this night.

On the morrow, he will be a stranger. He has to be.

He makes an attempt to speak, presumably to inquire upon your reasoning for taking him here. But you do not allow a word to slip past his lips, effectively silencing him with a searing kiss.

He melts unto you instantly, a soft moan escaping his throat as he welcomes your touch.

Your hands move instinctively to the fastenings of his tunic, deftly undoing them without breaking the kiss. He reaches down to come to your aid, his fingers brushing against yours, until the fabric slips from his shoulders and falls in a careless heap on the floor.

His tongue tangles with yours as his hands fumble with the ties on the back of your gown. A low growl escapes him when they don’t loosen as quickly as he'd like, his impatience growing - eager to have you, desperate to taste the sweetness he craves.

It does not much longer before the both of you are left completely bare, as naked as the day you were born. He kisses you hungrily, afraid that you might disappear if he lets go. That you might do good on your threat to leave him.

You push him backward until his heels hit the edge of your bed, causing him to land on his bottom on the sheets.

His hands grip your hips tightly as you stand between his thighs, and he gazes up at you with pure, unrestrained desire. The same way he always has, as if nothing else in the world exists but you.

In this fleeting moment, you will allow it. Nothing and no one else exists except for Aemond and yourself.

With a sharp nudge to his shoulder, he reclines willingly, lying flat on his back, arms held out, silently inviting you to press your body onto his.

You crawl slowly from the edge of the bed toward him, hovering above with lust smoldering in your eyes. He bites his lip at the sight, his erection pressing hard against your lower stomach. As you shift, the slick tip grazes your skin, leaving a heated trail in its wake.

He groans as you let his cock drag across your skin, pulling you close with a strained, "Māzigon kesīr, issa jorrāelagon."

Come here, my love.

The kiss is sloppy, he sucks at your lips while his hands roam the warmth of your body. Groping at your breasts, your hips, then the curve of your ass. He takes two fingers, travelling down your pelvis, until it feels the wetness of your clit. He fondles it eagerly, leaving you mewling softly, and the sounds turn into unbridled open-mouthed moans when his fingers dip inside your dripping cunt.

"Iksos bona sȳz?" he purrs, as he slides them faster in between your folds. Does that feel good?

"Y-yes, Aemond, fuck yes." You collapse on top of him fully, your breasts pressed against the side of his face, your body angled to grant his deft hand unhindered access as he strokes your pussy.

He turns his head to suck at your breasts, his tongue darting out to flick your nipple. His fingers quicken their pace, the squelching sounds blending with your lustful whimpers.

A silken sheen coats his digits, catching the lamplight as they slip out, only to plunge back inside with a deliberate, relentless rhythm.

"Let go, my love," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Allow me to savour the sight of your unraveling."

His words are intoxicating, and you can’t help but use his mouth to muffle your cries, your kisses fervent as you come undone. Your teeth graze his bottom lip as you reach your peak, the sensation of his warm breaths mingling with your gasps of heightened pleasure.

After a moment, as you slump against him, he licks his hand clean of your substance, his good eye darkened with wanton pleasure.

You trail a finger tantalizingly over his chest, lingering on his jaw before it gently glides across the apparatus covering his eye. He remains still, the act of baring himself to you as natural as breathing.

"Does she see you for who you truly are?" you whisper softly.

"No," he replies with a quiet intensity, "only you do, my love. For eternity."

Eternity, you bitterly think, if eternity ends on this night.

With a deliberate motion, you remove the eyepatch from his head and toss it aside. The sapphire in his eye socket gleams with a mesmerizing light, giving him an otherworldly glow.

"My Prince Aemond," you sigh, "my dragon. I am going to ride you until you forget her name."

"She does not matter to me - ahhhh, gods - " His words die in his throat as you align your still dripping cunt with his cock and sink down in one swift and merciless motion, taking him to the hilt until your ass is pressed against his flesh.

Without missing a beat, you continue to ride him with frantic intensity, your breasts bouncing as he forcefully bucks his hips to meet yours. He responds with guttural moans and fragmented words of praise - yes my love, fuck me, you fuck me so well, there is no one else, I love you, I love you, I love you.

"Does she fuck you as well as I?" you ask menacingly, the walls of your pussy clenching around him.

"No." He tilts his head back in sheer bliss. "She could never. When she... uses me... I feel hollow."

As you brace yourself on his chest, your hands gripping him for support, you quicken the pace, aiming for that sweet spot within. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, drawing every ounce of pleasure from his thick cock as you both lose yourselves in the raw, all-consuming passion of the moment.

When he starts to quiver, his length sputtering inside you in those quick, successive jerks, you know this is your cue to release him from your cunt. But this time, you lean forward as you dismount, and pat his cheek in the most patronising manner, saying, "Save your precious seed for Alys. Since she needs it so terribly."

Depraved as it might be, the wickedly cunning expression on your face proves to be Aemond's undoing, that cold glare sensuous to him. With a strangled cry, he erupts, his Targaryen seed spilling across the taut planes of his pelvis in hot, white streams.

His mouth is open in pleasure and surprise as he helps himself through his release, gripping and tugging his cock firmly through the throes of his release. His gaze remains fixed your face, his sole source of pleasure, though the furrow in his brow reveals that he heard your bitter jibe.

"What a waste," you click your tongue in disappointment, eyeing the mess he made.

He still lies there, naked and covered in his own release, as you swiftly pull on your slip dress, followed by the heavy cloak hanging over the chair in the corner.

The emotions that once swirled within you - desire, sadness, yearning - harden into a bitter mix of anger and resentment. This is his doing. It is his fault that tonight will be the last. The love you once shared, the tenderness you once felt, has been shattered by his own hand.

Turning to face him, you bend your knees into a mocking curtsy, an emotionless smile tugging at your lips. "My Prince," you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "If I may be excused. I must fetch my lady-in-waiting to help me into something more fitting. After all, I have a feast to return to... and my betrothed awaits."

Just as your hand touches the door, his desperate voice cuts through the silence, "Wait!" he pleads.

You pause, tears welling in your eyes as you turn ever so slightly. Your voice trembles, barely holding together as you say one last time -

"I love you, Aemond. Goodbye."

taglist (let me know in the comments if you wish to be added): @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @fuck-the-reaper @shessthunderstorms @aemondsbabygirl @melsunshine @snh96 @noxytopy @ellooo0ooo @brianochka @not-a-glad-gladiator @mac95650 @midnightmystic @saminalloxo @oh-no-tia @magnificentsapphiresoul @clara-geekhime @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ananas26t @iloveallmyboys @carriellie @summerposie @verycollectivecreator @toodlesxcuddles @brie-annwyl @dc-marvel-girl96 @bellstwd @bibli0thecary @happinessinthebeing @magnificentsapphiresoul @rorawinters @targaryen-madness @hanula18 @rhaenattargaryen @an0ther-us3r @sugurubabe @theshatteredideal @let-love-bleeds-red @s-we-e-t-t-ea @mydemimonde @the-intjs-dark-academic @heavenly1927 @anehkael @minttea07 @barnes70stark @cheneyq @cloudroomblog @neptuneiris @zaldritzosrose @oh-theseus

Some notes in the margins...

I should point out that in this story, Alys actually has magic and she has been instrumental in bringing about the victory of the Greens. Much like how she aided Daemon in season two, but dialled up to a hundred.

But no. That does not excuse Aemond's actions. Not at all.

Our bitter lovers needed their final, fucked up release. It is final for her, at least. But for Aemond?

[iluvpjo]

IM NEWWW (may I be 👁️ or🫀?)

Bro Luke hatefucking where he has his hand around your throat and he absolutely ruins you for winning capture the flag. Like degrades you just to feel you clench around him then he’ll be all snarky and go ‘aww well aren’t you being a good whore’ or something

(Or the opposite where he’s whiny and inexperienced because he’s so used to just being the golden boy of camp. The Luke that holds a death grip on your hips because if you move to fast he’ll cum quickly. So when he wins again, you get pissed. Wait for everyone to go back to their cabins while he stays and trains. And then you corner him and he acts all mighty. That is until you kiss him and he turns to absolute putty.)

𝐻𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝐹𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌 / 𝐿𝓊𝓀𝑒 𝒞𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓃

Synopsis: Hate fucking w Luke, there isn’t much more to elaborate on 🙏

Warning(s): NSFW! MDNI, hatefucking, degrading n arguing kindaa, slapping, choking, power complex tbh, uses of the words slut n whore etc.. there’s also praise (rarely)

Pairing: Luke Castellan x fem reader (Ares is ur dad btw)

Word count: 3,320k

Note: Hehe hi 👁 anon!!!!! Also Soz I didn’t know um what kind of relationship dynamic they were supposed to have…… I hope this is ok 🙏 it was the first thing that came to my head

(Even tho u totally might’ve just meant like bf Luke but um.. this tickled my brain a lil better!! 😋)

Send me a request! Here are my request rules!

Come find me on AO3!

“Who’s there?” As you saw him turn around you saw that it was none other than Luke Castellan, he was a frenemy of sorts. “Luke.” You spat his name out like it was venomous, he smirked when he saw you there. Luke’s hand went to his side to grip at his sword, beginning to pull it out when you had the bright idea to run away. You’d seen what he did to your team members and you knew he was a skilled swordsman, the best at camp, and even if you were well trained yourself you weren’t that stupid. Luke groaned in annoyance before chasing after you, you thought it was unnecessary for him to go out of his way to chase you when he could be helping his team.

“Are you seriously chasing me Castellan??” You shouted as you ran away, turning your head over your shoulder to watch him following your movements deeper into the woods. “Glad that you can see that.” Luke snickered at you, the clambering of metal was loud as the both of you ran, alerting your own team members that there was people around. Clarisse was the first one to pop out and see who was there, her spear ready in hand when she saw the two of you running towards her. You felt thankful and dipped to the side of her so she’d be in front of you, and whilst behind her you withdrew your own sword.

“Not like you to have other people fighting your battles, what’ve you done with Y/n?” Luke chuckled to himself, giving you this semi dirty look on his face. “I’m not making her fight you, we’re both going to.” You joined Clarisse after you’d withdrawn your sword, the both of you holding your weapons in front of you. “…I can handle that.” Luke shook his head and grabbed his own sword out to swing at the both of you “Out of everyone you could’ve had following you, it had to be Luke!” Clarisse groaned and clenched her teeth in irritation “Why am I surprised?” She shook her head.

Luke swung his sword across, and the both of you jumped back to avoid getting slashed. You then ambushed him, lunging at him and using your body weight to knock him to the ground. Luke fell backwards but was quick to jump back up, only when he did he stopped fighting the two of you. A horn went off, the sound loud enough to carry through the forest, alerting the three of you that the game was over. “That’d be us. Good job distracting Luke, sis.” Clarisse pat your back and gave you a half smile before leaving and returning to your team.

“Wait— what?” Luke furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, before his confusion turned into anger. “That’s the sound of sweet victory! Ever heard it?” You taunted and let out a little chuckle, groaning in pain when Luke threw you to the ground. “Oi! Cut it out, the games over!” You shouted and rolled out of the way before he cut you with his sword, you jumped back up on your feet and looked at him with confusion “You. Me. Fight. Now.” Luke was seething with anger now. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you, it looked rather evil for someone who only lost a simple game of capture the flag. However it was something you’d see often whenever he looked at you, looking at you every time like he wants to maim your head on the wall.

“I don’t want to fight you.” You shook your head at him as you denied it “Then I’m just gonna have to destroy you.” Luke didn’t care wether or not you’d fight back but he’d be fighting you wether you liked it or not, he stepped towards you and held his sword up to swing it at your ribs. You jumped out of the way and blocked him using your sword, but doing that made it easy for him to disarm you. Your sword hit the ground a few inches away, and you got down onto the ground and rolled over so you’d be able to pick it back up and fight again. When you stood up with your sword Luke was quick to shove you backwards, and your back fell up against a tree. If you weren’t wearing any armour your back would’ve probably gotten scratched up no doubt.

“What’re you doing??��� You questioned him quizzically, was he seriously gonna kill you over this? Luke held his sword up against your throat so you wouldn’t move, squinting his eyes at you to watch how your cockiness slowly turned to fear. It made him feel better, he liked it, he loved it. It made him feel like he had power over you. “A-Are you gonna kill me over this?” You asked him, tilting your head up to avoid his sharp blade “Maybe. That scare you?” Luke grinned to himself and inched his sword closer to your neck.

You closed your eyes and gulped nervously, you didn’t wanna show fear but you couldn’t lie that Luke Castellan could definitely be scary when he wanted to be. “N-No.” You lied through your teeth, the sweat on your brow giving you away “Liar.” Luke chuckled darkly. “Drop your sword to your right.” Luke instructed you, you listened and reluctantly dropped the weapon beside your feet, Luke then kicked it far away so you wouldn’t be able to attack him with anything. Luke loved this scaredy cat reaction he was getting out of you, maybe a little too much. Luke was getting hard and you thought you could even feel it, yet you weren’t entirely sure so you wouldn’t bring it up. Although your eyes glancing down towards that direction alerted Luke that you definitely knew.

“Are you-?” You began to speak “Am I what?” Luke asked you dumbly, yet the soft blush on his cheeks gave him away. “Nothing.” You replied a little meekly, averting your eyes now and trying to move your head so it’d hide your now slightly flustered face. Luke didn’t like this, he withdrew his sword and put it back into his sword holder, reaching his hand up to roughly grab at your face and turn your head back to face him. When you looked back you realised he didn’t have his sword up against you anymore and you were thankful, yet you could still feel something pressing up against you.

Luke continued to hold your face in his hand, your cheeks were squished a little and the grasp on your face honestly hurt your jaw a little. “Lukee-“ You tried to speak but your words were a little weird sounding with the grip he had on you, he reluctantly let your face go but not without a swift tap on your cheek. You gasped softly, looking down at the ground, he’d slapped you! Luke then grabbed the collar of your shirt and lifted you a little against the tree that he had you pinned to, his knuckles grazing against your neck. “Shut up. Just shut up.” Luke hissed out angrily, but again after seeing he’d put his sword away you grew cocky again.

“Yeah? Why should I shut up?” You asked him, looking down at him now after he’d lifted you and put you in a different position. “If you don’t shut up — I’m gonna make you shut up.” Luke growled out a warning, his face tinted red with fury “How’re you gonna do that?” You were a little scared to ask, dropping the cocky tone you were harbouring after he’d said that. Was he gonna seriously bash you against the tree? Luke stilled for a moment, his eyes not leaving your face, his nose scrunched up angrily as he scowled. He then closed the gap and roughly pressed his lips up against yours, using his opposite hand that wasn’t holding you to slap your face again.

You gasped in surprise from the kiss, opening just slightly wider when he’d slapped you, and Luke used this as an opportunity to slide his tongue in. You had no clue that Luke could have it in him to be doing this with you but you wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, you shut your eyes and began to meekly kiss him back. You were slow and unsteady with your movements, submissively trying to move your tongue against his but he’d practically already shoved his tongue into your mouth and was just exploring the insides of your cheeks. Luke slowly let you down as you guys were kissing, moving his now free hands to grasp roughly at your waist.

Luke pulled back reluctantly even though he didn’t want to, he was flushed and he was breathing heavily by this point. Luke looked down at you, his angry scowl turning to a bit of a half smile “That shut you up.” He snickered to himself. You stood there in disbelief of what just happened, blinking up at him dumbly as your cheeks began to darken “A-Asshole.” You muttered out loud a little bashfully before glancing away shyly. You were embarrassed that he managed to make you, an Ares kid, feel flustered like this. “I don’t think you’re in a position to be insulting me.” Luke replied, pulling your body closer to him.

You placed your hands on his chest and looked up at his face, trying to angrily scowl at him but it looked more like an angry pout, reminding him of a bratty child. “Why not?” You huffed “Because I’ll just shut you up again.” Luke rolled his eyes, you decided you’d keep speaking despite the many reasons not to “You gonna kiss me again?” You tilted your head to the side. Luke’s eye twitched before he moved one of his hands from your side up to your neck, his palm pressing against your throat and making you let out a choked out whine. “Haha, not so cocky now are you?” Luke laughed to himself.

“F-Fucker.” You tried to speak but your words were choked out, his grip on you making you feel slightly light headed but you knew you wouldn’t pass out. You were an ares kid and you also went to camp halfblood so obviously you were trained to endure stuff like this, even if it was just personal training. You knew you could hold your breath if you had to. “What was that?” Luke smirked and held tighter onto your neck, making you shut up again. You were feeling rather embarrassed being in the position you were in, feeling powerless, so you decided to get some of that power back.

Your arm was already lowered at your side, so you then moved your hand to the middle to grab Luke’s hardened front in your palm. Luke’s hand around your neck loosened for a moment as his demeanour faulted, his eyes clenched tight for a second and he sucked on his teeth as to not let out a groan. “That shut you up.” You repeated his words back to him, giggling to yourself meanly at his reaction. Luke regained his composure, furrowing his eyebrows at you angrily before saying “I’m gonna make you regret that.”

Luke stood back and let you go, his hands moving now to instead hold your hips and he roughly ground you against him. It made you let out a quiet whine, your cheeks flushed and your lips parting to let out a soft airy moan. “Fuckin’ dirty girl, aren’t you?” Luke asked you, sending a weird throb between your legs, maybe you enjoyed him saying that a little too much. “I’m not gonna answer that Castellan.” You huffed again, giving this whiny pouty look on your lips; if your father saw you he wouldn’t even think you were his child. “Good. Shut that pretty mouth of yours, I know there are better uses for it.” Luke hummed before kissing your lips again.

You could’ve pushed him away at any time but you accepted his kiss yet again, kissing him back and trying to keep up with his pace. Luke moved a hand down to grope at your ass, holding a handful of your soft plushy flesh, making you let out a quiet moan. “Careful with the noise slut, or do you want everyone to hear you?” Luke tutted, pulling away from the kiss to shake his head at you. “I can’t help it!— you’re the one making me!” You complained with a hushed voice, gritting your teeth at him. Luke looked down at you, admiring the puffy sore lips he just had captured. “Am I now?” He chuckled and wiped some sweat from off of your face.

Luke slowly placed his hands back on your hips, looking at your face for any signs of hesitation as he began to tug them down. Your hips followed his movements, allowing him to slip them past your ass. He then looped his thumbs around your underwear and pulled them down to,’ pulling them down your thighs. Luke wanted to just shove into you when he saw your pretty pussy for the first time but he resisted, a small tinge of kindness in his heart was showing. Luke dipped his hand between your legs and curiously rubbed at your sensitive bud, watching the way you jolted in surprise.

He liked the look of it, smiling to himself before doing it again with purpose this time. Your hands flew to grip on his shoulders, trying to keep quiet when his actions sped up a little. It felt overly stimulating to your sensitive clit and you found it hard not to whine out in pleasure, your hips jerked down against his hand as he was touching you. Luke smirked, tilting his head down at you to watch the way his hand toyed with your clit. Luke could feel you growing hotter however and that’s when he decided to test the waters, moving his hand back more to dip his fingers inside your slutty hole.

“L-Luke..” You moaned out his name, feeling his fingers stretching you as they pressed further inside, two of his knuckles pleasuring your insides. “Look up at me, show me your pretty face.” Luke ordered and you obeyed without a second thought, lifting your head to look up at him and showing him your blissed out face. “Aww.. aren’t you being a good whore?” He teased with this taunting voice, moving his fingers to thrust inside of you. Your hips juddered, grinding against him and his hand like a slut similar to one of those cam girls.

“N-No I’m not..” You whined and shook your head in complaint, huffing and gritting your teeth. “Yes you are, dirty girl. My dirty girl now.” Luke moved to kiss your jaw, trailing his lips down to your neck, the combined sensation as well as with the abuse to your tight hole— he quickly made you cum. You didn’t even have any time to warn him before you came undone, a pleasured sheik escaping your lips “L-Luke!! I’m cumming-“ You were too late and had already started orgasming. “That’s it. Good girl.” He coaxed you through your orgasm, his fingers helping you through it.

When you finally stopped and had to stand there taking a breather, Luke slowly withdrew his fingers and began to work at his own belt. You noticed and shyly turned around, bending over and pressing your ass against him slightly. Luke chuckled to himself about your eagerness, pulling his pants and his briefs down to let his hard leaking cock out of its restraints. Luke lined himself up with you, hoping you’d be wet and prepped enough for him, he hoped you weren’t that eager. But he wouldn’t complain if you were, he’d find it cute. “So cute, so eager and desperate for me, you’re such a whore.” You were about to complain but the feeling of his cock shoving inside of you made you shut your lips.

“Fuckkk—“ Luke bit down and clenched just jaw to muffle his low groan as he pushed inside, his cock already twitching slightly from entering you. He wasn’t even halfway when your whining began again, you felt like he was stretching you out beyond as you could go. “Is it all in yet?” You asked with a small glimmer of hope “Not even halfway in’ you can take it can’t you?” He teased. You agreed, of course you could. “Y-Yes. I can do it.” You nodded your head, steadying yourself up against the tree he had you leant on.

“Good girl.” Luke pushed in a little more, withdrawing a moan from your mouth, his cock stretching your insides as he was now halfway in. Luke decided to help you a little, thrusting his hips a bit to get you used to the feeling. You whimpered and moaned and Luke was quick to shut you up yet again, clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle your loud moans. “You know I love to hear you like this, and I’m sure the other campers would too, but I’m not much for sharing. So keep it down sweetheart.” Luke hissed into your ear as he leant down.

“Fuck..” You could feel yourself throb from what he’d just said, causing a flurry of emotions in your head. Why did you just get like that because of what he said? You shook the thought away, becoming easily distracted yet again when he suddenly pushed inside you further and filling you to the hilt. It made you let out a loud moan, thankful that Luke was muffling your voice now. “So good.. so tight.” Luke began to thrust again, his cock buried deep and making you feel overwhelmed with pleasure. “L-Luke I’m gonna cum..” You tried to mumble out, but he couldn’t hear you with the sound of skin on skin and his hand over your mouth did no favours for his ears.

You couldn’t help it, cumming on his cock and feeling your legs trembling beneath you. Luke used his free hand to wrap around your waist and stabilise you, making sure you wouldn’t tumble over. Luke groaned as he felt himself twitch due to the spasming sensation of your soft fluttery walls around him. “Fuck.. I’m gonna cum too-“ Luke thrusted a few more times before quickly pulling out and cumming on your backside. Luke stilled for a moment as he had to come down, the both of you panting heavily as you tried to catch your breaths.

“You did so well, so good for me..” Luke praised you and gently brushed your hair as he let go of your face, his other hand moving to try and wipe off his cum with something he had in his pocket. “S-Shut up.” You complained about his soft words, your face heating up upon hearing them though. “I think I’ve got all my frustrations out.” Luke commented, helping you up and helping you dress and to get cleaned. You turned back around to face him, helping him get dressed as well. You looked up at his face and bashfully glanced away before looking back at him and saying, “so.. see you tonight?” Luke grinned and answered “sure.”

[vonlycaonwife]

May I please have a smexy von lycoan x maid!reader, (fem please) where the new maid is a clutz and gets on Von's nerves on accident. and then one day he loses his composure and decides to 'punish' her and maybe teach her a lesson about proper serving etiquette. please scenario, i would like to hear your thoughts. ;)

I know who you are you sonuva- ANYWAY yeah I can do that.....lord help me

Female reader! Also very ooc!

Warnings: Smut, breeding, face fucking, knotting, dubious consent, unbalanced power dynamics (boss/worker like), severely ooc, partially written before game release

He has just about had it.

A few months ago the agency had just hired a new employee, one that Lycaon had to supervise. She seemed very sweet and excited to do her job, something he enjoyed seeing since those at Victoria Housekeeping Co. must have a good head on their shoulders to do their job.

But then it turned out she was even more of a clutz than Corin, something that's baffled almost everyone.

An often occurrence would be her cleaning something to perfection, only to end up breaking said thing. Another would be her always burning whatever it was she was baking, or adding too much of something. Even during hollow raids she and others end up getting hurt by her own weapon rather than by ethereal. Mainly the only thing she can do is serve tea and even that's a fifty-fifty on if she'll drop the cup in your lap or not. It was astounding how many things went wrong when she was near, though she was always apologetic over every mess up.

And today Lycaon had to scold her once again over the continuous trip ups, though he has not done that yet since the woman was late for their meeting again. 

It was bad enough for him that he had to deal with his own body that was determined to start a rut, but combine that with the fact that the woman that irritated him to no end also had a scent that drove him mad. He usually had better control over himself, but every time something happened that involved her he would have to steel his nerves or otherwise he would go into a full rut. It annoyed him to no end. Though he supposed it was why he was harsher on her than he was on anyone else, as much as he hated to admit. Others had brought it up to him about his behavior, but he would rather be harsher than act like a feral dog. 

"You're late." He huffed once he heard the door open, he turned his eyes to meet the doe like ones of the woman. He held back a growl as her scent entered his nose, quickly placing his hands onto the desk to keep himself from tearing into his uniform. She flinched at his tone, brows pinched in anxiety.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to run here to be on time and...I bumped into someone and caused another mess. I cleaned it up though! So it's no worries!" She reassured, waving her hands around in an attempt to placate his wrath. She tried to smile even when the atmosphere began to grow cold, something that irritated the man even more.

"Another one? How many has that been today?" He asked angrily, his claws just barely scratching into the wood of his desk. Her scent was driving him mad, he had to keep his mind off of it by directing his growing frustrations onto her. 

The woman flinched again, fear rising within her. While she was used to being scolded, this kind of anger aimed towards her was new and frightening. At most the wolf was only ever annoyed or frustrated, but now she felt like she was about to be eaten alive.

"It seems you need another lesson." He said, suddenly calm. At least what she thought was calm, but at meeting his eyes once again all she could see was unbridled anger. Along with something else she couldn't discern. As he stood she froze in place, her hands gripping onto her skirt tightly her knuckles almost turned white. The two kept eye contact as the large man walked his way around his desk, ignoring the claw marks, before standing directly in front of the woman. "We've had this conversation so many times, but it seems you're not getting it.”

"I-I'm sorry Sir! I'll do better, I promise!” She begged, straining her neck to look up at him. While she wasn't that short, she always had a hard time not cramping her neck whenever she had to look at Lycaon. She shivered under his gaze, steeling her nerves so she wouldn't step back in fear. While she is able to handle most things, right now it almost felt like she was prey staring into the face of a predator. “Really I will.”

“You say that…” He started, before suddenly growling with a ferocity that terrified her. She suddenly backed up, her mind running over what options she had, before her back ran into the door behind her. She quickly turned around, her flight instincts blaring danger in her head, attempting to open the door before she felt hands slam onto the surface beside her. Frozen in place she could only be aware of her thoughts screaming at her to run, before it all stopped when she felt his breath hit her neck. “And yet you never seem to improve.”

Lycaon can only berate himself as his own body had seemed to be taken over by his instincts. Just the sight of her looking up at him with her wide eyes had made him mad, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be closer to her. Her scent was overriding his sense of smell, the feel of her shaking in fear under him was embarrassingly delicious. He didn't think of himself to be cruel, and yet he relished in her fear. His hands were shaking against the door, claws scratching at the surface while he barely tried to reign in himself.

“Do you even know how much you irritate me? How annoying it is to have to have these talks with you every damn week?” He growled out, his nose brushing against her hair as he spoke. His claws dug deeper into the wooden surface as he tried to keep himself from touching her with them. He knew if he did that he couldn't go back, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together like he barely is at this moment. His sharp ears heard her gasp as the sound of wood splitting rang out. “Do you even know how hard it is to keep myself contained with that smell of yours?”

“I-”

“Shut up.” He brushed his teeth against the skin of her neck, groaning as he heard her whimper in fear. But what also caught his attention was that her scent somehow became even more potent, making him realize something. He slowly released his hands from the wooden surface, giving them a quick glance for any potential splinters, before dropping to his knees. His hands lifted up her skirt, releasing an enormous wave of her scent. He quickly moved his face closer to her, his nose brushing against her core.

“S-Sir!” She yelped, her hands moving to try and move him away before he could realize. But she stopped when he heard him growl, ordering her to stay in place. Understanding he figured out how she was suddenly turned on by the sudden turn of events, she obeyed his order. She stared at the patterns of the wood, trying to keep her mind off the fact that her superior was suddenly sniffing her like a horny animal. Not that she minded too much, as she had developed a small crush on him since gaining her job at the company. 

“Lesson one, speak when spoken to.” He said, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he nudged them to spread apart.

“B-But-”

“Quiet.” He ordered, before pressing his nose against her once more. He could feel his entire body shiver as the woman's scent flooded his senses. His ears could pick up the noises she tried to repress, causing him to huff in amusement. He used one hand to move the thin fabric that separated him from her bare skin aside, making it possible to place his long tongue along her folds.

“Ah! S-Sir wait-”

“I said, be quiet.” He grunted, adding a growl to emphasize his order. He felt her freeze from his tone as he swiped his tongue over her once more. The taste that spread on his tongue was like heaven to him, completely making him forget the world around him as he pushed his face deeper to taste more.

As his tongue entered her, her hands quickly flew to cover her mouth to prevent any noises from escaping. Her forehead leaned against the door as she tried to even out her breathing, her legs began to shake as she felt his tongue reach deeper. She could feel his hands gripping tighten as a way to keep her still, his claws digging into her skin in a way that brought no pain to her. 

Soon she began to feel that familiar coil within her tighten, causing her to grip onto her face harden. She could feel his tongue quicken its pace as her walls constricted, her whole body shook as she felt that coil ready to burst. Only to be met with a sudden emptiness causing her to quickly turn her head around to see him stand up. She wanted to ask why he stopped, before she suddenly was lifted into the air. Squealing at the movement, she wiggled in his grip before she found herself placed onto one of the plush chairs. After blinking a bit to understand what had happened, she looked up to see his piercing red eye staring down back at her.

“Lesson two, all employees must fulfill their tasks with perfect proficiency.” Lycaon barely spoke, adjusting his belt before pushing down his slacks to reveal his hardening member. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in his size, her thighs squeezing together in both mild fear and anticipation. Wordlessly she adjusted herself in the seat and hesitantly wrapped one hand around him, slowly moving it along the shaft. She closed her eyes in embarrassment, but a gentle began to pet her head, making her meet his eyes once more. “Just relax.”

His voice was very gentle, putting her in a shock before she could realize he removed her hand and pressed the head of his cock against her slightly parted lips. She almost jumped at the contact before that hand gripped her hair to keep her in place. The low growl he released was the only warning he would give her. Shivering she widened her opened mouth and slowly gave small licks, earning a hum in approval. Soon she leaned forward, bringing the head into her mouth and sucking. Her hands were gripping onto the skirt of her uniform, knuckles turning white as she tried her best to keep her mouth wide enough to accommodate his size. 

Quickly the thirian took charge and began to move his hips slowly, pushing his length further and further down her throat. As time went on his pace became rougher and faster, causing tears to start welling in her eyes. But she made no complaint, only kept her eyes shut as she focused on breathing through her nose. Embarrassingly she could feel the spot on the cushion seat below her become damp, making her whine against him. Though she could barely hear herself over the growls the man was releasing. Soon she could feel him pulsate against her tongue, but before he could cum, he released himself from her mouth. 

Before she could question anything, she suddenly felt him grab her by the waist and all but slam her onto the desk. But nothing happened, he only stared into her eyes. It’s as if he was hesitant to do anything else, his claws gripping onto with the same intensity as earlier. The two stayed in their fixed position before one finally spoke.

“Do you want this?” The words barely came out of the thirian, more so only able to leave past his lips with his pants.

“W-What?”

“I’m asking if you truly want this, because if this goes further then we can’t go back.” He slowly explains, like he was in a daze.

“Oh…” She blinks, her muddled brain struggling to fully comprehend what he was saying. But once it settled itself within her thoughts did all the muddiness completely disappear. “O-Oh! Y-Yeah I am! I’ve uh…”

Her face flushes as she attempts to get her thoughts in order. “I’ve already…had some feelings for you so…if you don’t-eep!”

His lips slam onto hers, interrupting her words. She lets out a surprised squeal, tensing in his grip, before relaxing and wrapping her arms around his neck. She moaned as his tongue explored her mouth, swallowing her noises as he reached one hand to rub circles around her clit. Soon she felt the tip of his cock nudge at her entrance, causing her to tense once more.

“Relax.” She could barely hear him say as he slowly thrust himself inside. Her insides almost felt like they were on fire from the sheer intense heat of his length. When he finally completely filled her, tears were running down her face as she tried not to move and adjust. Lycaon trailed soft kisses all over her face as he waited for her to give the go ahead. Soon she began to relax, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Reading her body languages, Lycaon began to move his hips at a slow pace. He closed his eyes as he concentrated on not losing control, the way he could only smell her scent and the fact it was all over him made him almost go insane. The one hand still holding onto the desk tightened around the wood, close to splinting it like what he did with the wall earlier. He had moved his other hand to her clothed waist, keeping her in place as soon began to speed up. Her whines rang out of the room, adding fuel to the fire of his loosening restraint.

As he focused on controlling his instincts, he somehow didn’t notice her fingers settling into the fur at the back of his neck. She gave it a quick pull, not too harsh to pull out any fur, making him groan in pain. He opened his eyes to meet her own, glaring down at her intensely. He leaned down, growling out harsh words of disapproval. But the lustful gleam he saw in her eyes and her whiny begging was what finally drove him to let go. Slamming his hips against hers with wild abandonment, his teeth gently biting at the exposed skin of her neck while his hands grabbed onto her legs to move them on top of his shoulders. 

He was taking it all in, the sound of her moans and high pitch screams, the taste of her sweat and tears on his tongue, and the smell of their scents mingling together along with the growing smell of sex. He even could hear his own groans and growls, though his focus moved quickly to the feeling of his swelling knot enlarging. His instincts were urging him to push it in right this instant, but he had some restraint left to wait. 

Meanwhile she was overwhelmed by his rough pace, tears flowing down her face as she was slammed with wave after wave of pleasure. She could barely think, her mind only focused on the feeling of him filling her to the brim. But soon she could feel that familiar coil within her, tightening at such an alarming rate. Her voice began to break as it reached a higher pitch than her vocal cords were able to handle, her hands clutching onto his fur in search of anything to stabilize herself. She tried to let any words out, but was once more interrupted by him kissing her. She could only moan into his mouth as she felt something bigger push into her. Her eyes widened in shock as his knot was thrusted in, her body tensing and squirming as the rush of pleasure flooded her veins once more. Released from the kiss, she could only whine as her insides were filled with his hot seed.

“Wait.” He said, gently keeping her in place as she squirmed. “Give it a few minutes.”

She nodded in response, having no energy for words. He chuckled at that, amused at her state. Once he was able to remove himself, he shushed her as she whined from the loss. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy, as her body finally relaxed after everything. She barely felt him move her to sit back in the chair she had stained, hearing him whisper about returning with cleaning rags and other necessary items. She wasn't able to respond before sleep finally overtook her.

She wasn't able to see the soft he gave her, nor did she even realize he had kissed her forehead. He quickly made himself suitable again before quietly leaving through the door, locking it to make sure no one would walk in on the mess he had to clean up. Though he's sure he would walk into an even bigger mess once the woman wakes up and tries to clean. But he isn't too upset about that fact now.

Since it just means he has an opportunity to teach her another “lesson.”

[suguru-getos]

thoughts on yan!sukuna truly breaking reader like in yan!gojosugu except shes just lifeless not wanting to die just soulless...?

Warnings: It’s Sukuna I feel like his name itself is a warning LMFAOO 😭 Sukuna killin’ people- some sexual themes, belittling, gory themes. Idk what else to add, he’s just an asshole but if you squint really hard and become delulu you’ll find him almost caring. 😼✋✨

The crimson, bloodied, grotesque sight in front of her was enough to cease any palpitations & cries for help. She knew, there was no one coming to help her. Not when the King of Curses had taken her under his wing. Her pupils have dilated in fear, goosebumps rising as her instincts clasp at her very bones. Run, run, run… these words scream out of her inner psyche when her eyes glaze over the massacre.

One of the people among them, leg butchered & bleeding to death she’s sure, crawls over to her form. She’s against the corner, feet curled up against her knees. “Please— please— help me.” The injured man groans in gut-wrenching pain. The monster who has taken control of her holds him by the legs and rips him in half in front of her. She doesn’t even flinch. “That makes it last.” Sukuna’s unforgiving voice echoes. Of course, she was punished for running away to ‘her’ people. Sukuna is going to make sure there are no more people to run to.

Her heart aches, somehow she feels with the entirety of her being, that she’s responsible for the entire village’s annihilation. A soft parting of her lips, followed by a tremble echoes. “Yes. Last one.”

The way she doesn’t cower anymore, acceptance… she’s accepted her life to be living hell. “That’s all that comes out of your mouth? Useless Mutt.” Sukuna snarls, at least he felt amused with her cowering & her squealing like a scared puppy.

“Sorry, Sukuna Sama. Won’t run again.” She has a deep gash on her forearm when Sukuna flicked his fingers in air, sheer annoyance of her disobedience and his technique didn’t lay any mercy. She has healed from that, but the gash still looks dreadful. That was the time Sukuna truly realised that a single human without powers is a nuisance. You can’t even teach them a lesson properly or their poor heart will give out & they die. Pathetic. It makes no sense how someone so frail, weak, delicate is so fucking beautiful.

Standing in front of her was an eight feet tall, monster with four arms. Calcified eyes, and a mouth on his belly. The mouth on his belly frowned, unhappy with the non-dramatic & non-theatrical reaction. “You have nowhere to run to now, Kozõ.” Sukuna reminds, a sinister smile spreading across his features.

“Yes, you have established that, my Lord.” She sighs, not even tears could wash away the sediments of her anxiety anymore. “I should get up, the blood is really making me queasy.” She nods, looking up at him. Small and insignificant in front of the most powerful being in the universe.

Uraume comes in, bowing in front of Sukuna and her. “Greetings, Sukuna sama. Greetings, Y/N san.” They have been ever so supportive, mainly because their lord is glad by it. Even though he doesn’t show it. They understand it, how Sukuna behaves a little more happy when she is happy. “Let me help you with the shower.”

-

The shower is extravagant. It’s as if Sukuna laments for his actions with elaborate rituals like these. There are Epsom bath salts which help for the ache, dried lavender petals and candles around the tub. It would be her safe haven if she had been living a normal life. Unfortunately, this does not help. Not when its her heart that’s aching. Bath salts wouldn’t soothe it.

“You shouldn’t have run away.” Uraume hums, trying to break the suffocating silence. “I know.” She hums, watching how they help exfoliate the grime and the dirt. “Those people… they angered him. They tried to give you refugee.” Uraume adds, pouring some water over her hair. Her eyes close, she forces herself to be mindful. To be present in the moment.

“I know.” She carefully responds the well rehearsed response. Uraume scares her too, they could do may as well anything for Sukuna sama after all.

“A tip…” Uraume mumbles, unsure if the candidness they will present her with would have an appropriate response… “Please don’t create a scene at dinner.”

“Okay.” She nods, unsure at the sudden behavior. It’s not that behaving appropriately would get Sukuna to calm down. She knows Sukuna’s rage knows no bounds and is still simmering. “Either way, it’s not like you’ll suffer because of my shortcomings.” She emphasizes. That bit is partially true… sometimes when Sukuna feels the insurmountable frustration run through the very marrow of his bones… he uses Uraume for it. A limb short from them won’t harm him.

-

The dinner is served on gold plated utensils & plates. The chandelier made with crystals rising up & littering the big hall room with glow. Sukuna has taken over the rich Zen’in estate after coming to power. That’s how he grasped her anyway. Just his silly little human he didn’t want to kill so soon.

There is silence, throughout the table. The small tinkering of spoon against the bowl for eating, from her and her alone is the only sound that is heard. “Had a shower so you don’t reek of betrayal?” Sukuna’s tone is icy, he is still not happy with it. A visible gulp happens from her throat, swallowing all the fear to answer prim & properly. “I just wanted to go out-“

The next moment, the table breaks into two, her bowl breaks, the hot & bubbling chicken soup splayed across the floor, some of it falling on her thighs as she hisses. “Uraume, think she needs another shower.” Sukuna hums, getting away and leaving. Sigh. A life where she isn’t breathing sounds better. She’s whimpering softly in pain, sure to get a second degree burn. Reflexes make her stand up, haphazardly dancing on her silly two feet to prevent the ache.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, frail, disgustingly frail.

-

The next few days are a series of mundane routines & fight or flights. She wakes up, Uraume gets her breakfast, she scurries around the entire estate, reads, pretends she doesn’t remember what Sukuna did to the people who tried to help her. Fails. Trail of thoughts losing and bringing her right back to the sinking feeling in her tummy. Sukuna ripping the begging man in half was… not something she could erase from her memory.

Dinners with Sukuna, lunch with Sukuna. Sleeping with Sukuna. Naked. Sukuna doesn’t care about the word privacy, she is his human toy after all. He feeds her well, for what? Hiding her curves & her body? Sometimes she is able to sleep, curling up in a fetal position as Sukuna’s hard cock nestles between her ass cheeks. Sometimes she is forced to warm his cock to bed. The sheer girth of his cock alone is enough to make her cry at the burn. Pathetic body still getting wet at the administrations. Truly a toy, malleable to her master’s every wish and demand.

Today seems different, she enters the bedroom, watching Sukuna’s annoyed & predatory gaze lingering over. She knows what to do next, ridding herself off the robes and watching him. Predatory, his gaze has never been gentle since they met. “Crawl to me.” Sukuna hums, watching her shudder at the demand. Getting on her hands & knees, naked, she crawls up to him and looks up, a soft pout littered across her lips. Her anxiety has been especially unnerving today. Give up, her body screams to give up. “Your body is the only thing that’s getting you to live those extra breaths, you know?” Sukuna smirks, holding her up and making her settle on the bed. She nods, tears brimming across her cheeks. She cries again, weak sniffles erupting from her. To Sukuna, he finds it amusing. How her breasts jiggle a little with every sniffle and every tense of her shoulder. A small part of him wanting her to stop crying which he would never admit to himself.

“Maybe I will use those tears as lube for your cunt.” Sukuna hums, chuckling. He’s only joking. His observance has told him enough about how his human is doing. Something he would hate to admit, perturbed him. Maybe killing everyone in front of her was not such a good decision.

She has no resistance to Sukuna’s words, he could say whatever & do whatever. She doesn’t doubt the extent this demon could go pure amusement.

In Sukuna’s head, he’s caught in a weird dilemma. In his head, he thinks eventually, this will yield positive results. There would be a time when she would be done with this behavior of hers & accept him for who he is. He has improved— he hasn’t slept with another toy- woman. He hasn’t eaten human meat in front of her. These are things he has deliberately done just to make the estate look a little less haunting, feel a little less prickly…

“Can you please kill me, my Lord?” She begs, and that catches Sukuna off guard. Brows furrowed and jaw tense at the demand. She was always self-preserving… always. This new flavour of her peronality, he isn’t sure he could stomach it. Sukuna has intense control over his facial features, but the mouth in his stomach has a frown.

“Why? Didn’t I tell you, I decide who to kill?” He snarls, gritting his teeth and hand holding her throat. A threat, a simple threat that is supposed to make her realize that her words could have consequences. She just meets Sukuna’s gaze, broken beyond repair.

“Can’t do this ‘nymore.” She mumbled, lip quivering like a child who’s favorite candy’s been yanked off of their hands.

“Getting fucked? You can’t handle getting fucked?” Sukuna’s eye twitches in annoyance, he hasn’t been the worst of himself. He’s fully capable of ripping her womb apart just with the power of his thrusts. This is what he gets? Humans… seriously…

“Everything.” She communicates. “Sorry, Sukuna sama. Can’t really do this anymore.” She mumbles, tears reaching her jaw and coursing through the valley of her breasts. Sukuna’s belly mouth is quick to lap it up, a delirious expression over his face.

“Too bad, we’re going to make sure you can do this till the day you die.” Sukuna is pathetically upset. It’s the rejection… the way she would rather die than take the King of Curses? What a joke…

“Go to bed.” He hums, dismissing her and his hand shoving her to fall against the mattress. A weak whimper of hurt escapes her. Another reminder for Sukuna about just how delicate she is…

Sukuna Ryomen, the King of Curses, the most powerful being in the world, the most dangerous & sinister entity to ever walk this earth, was pouting, was overthinking about how his silly human pet can feel better…

While his silly human pet was losing her mind, crying through the whole night laying next to him. Every sniffle, every jolt of her body, everything feels annoying. Can she stop?

“If you hadn’t run away.” Sukuna continues, voice grim & unforgiving. He hates having to remember her actions. “Those people would be breathing.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Oh damn it! All he means is for you to not run away. “It’s not terrible for you, I’m sure you’re aware.” He adds on, leaning against the headboard.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

Rehearsed, timid, scared…

“What would you rather do if you were free?” Sukuna asks; not one to converse but hey — he wants to know.

That’s when she sinks, there is nothing that she wants to do. “There are some things I wouldn’t do, for example… this.” She signs at her naked body, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. What a pesky, and brave woman. Immediately telling him that she doesn’t want to be around him bare.

“Then let’s start there, if you don’t act grateful about it, then I will take it away from you.” Sukuna declares, watching the light in her eyes flicker just enough to bring a smirk to his face.

“Yes, my Lord.”

[shorthaltsjester]

there is something so, so devastating to me about imogen having spent the past weeks utilizing how much like her mother she appears to be as a way for the hells to gain intel and slip past different situations but how significantly her like . relvin vibes have increased in the past couple episodes. and of course we only have the one interaction with him but the temult dynamic is one of the ones that spins my brain around in knots. there is something very juicy to me about an imogen who can’t escape her mother’s fate because she looks like her spitting image and has her same powers and who can’t escape her father’s fate because she’s also powerless watching the woman she loves disappear.

like relvin in that visit is of course walled off and he’s decades down the road of having seen the woman he loves disappear into the unknown of her powers and what we got of his response to liliana and the idea of helping imogen save her wasn’t unlike imogen’s recent response to laudna. his comment that he always figured that liliana would realize gelvaan wasn’t the place for her, he just also hoped they’d go together when she left is like the domestic small town mirror of imogen’s illogical but real griefguilt about leaving laudna alone by fighting against predathos. i mean relvin specifically brings up that he doesn’t know if liliana was lying to him the whole time about her powers or if she didn’t know either, “it’s a lot to take in at once. you think you know someone, there’s a whole part of their life that they just been keeping secret from you. i was angry. i’m still angry. but you know, a little part of me wants to believe she was just doing it to protect you.“ a sentiment echoed by imogen’s responses to laudna the past few episodes.

and at the end of that gelvaan visit, relvin speaking up enough to tell imogen to “tell her…” but not having anything to say. because liliana made her choice and he knows his words didn’t mean anything before. imogen just watching as laudna shoves a dagger into her own chest, imogen telling her “i’ll always love you, laudna. i just don’t know what to do with it.”

god, in general, imogen who grew up knowing that love isn’t enough. that love is important and it’s a lot, but not enough. relvin and imogen standing with a chasm of grief and a silver locket between them and “i never want you to be afraid of me, daddy” “me neither.” and laudna’s “i don’t like people being mad at me.” and imogen’s “i know.”

because imogen is her father’s daughter. like absolutely with anger at him and complexity in that relationship but silly little cowboy jokes aside, the values imogen expresses are ones that — when not ones born of her experiences with her powers — seem very much contextualized by her upbringing. i mean the ideal life that she dreamt of and dismissed with laudna someday when the apocalypse is over is a small cottage with some horses. relvin lives in a farmhouse furnished for one.

i’ve talked before about how For Me the most fruitful lens for viewing imogen’s story is one of generational trauma, and i think the reasons for that re: liliana are obvious. but i also think that being raised by someone who isn’t privy to the intricacies of whatever haunts their spouse enough that it’s been passed down is another sort of fucked up legacy and i am truly delighted/sorrowed by how messily and interestingly imogen sits at the intersection of these dual temult legacies; one of leaving and one of being left.