#so he wouldn't have to go through this painful life.

[soleilapproves]

catalyst - chapter 2

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex-boyfriend. (Sukuna x reader)

Note: fem!reader

fanfic masterlist / main masterlist

It had been two years since you had seen and felt Sukuna’s naked body. Two years too long. You never realized how much you missed out on his life when your hands began to roam around his shoulders. He had gotten bigger and firmer. His body was always much larger than yours, but this was on a different level. He was an athlete, after all. Shoulders that were once just broad were now bulging with muscles. His arms almost looked like water waves, subtly flexing with every movement. He was thicker than an average man. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if he could bench press you. He did once before, but now it probably would’ve been like lifting a feather.

His fingers and knuckles were rougher than the ones you were used to, probably because of all the sparring and weight training. Most of his body was now covered in harsh black tattoos. The ones beneath his eyes stood out the most because they matched Yuuji’s scars. You wanted to ask what they meant, but you kept quiet, still resenting him for never reaching out after the breakup. Unprofessional, but could you blame yourself, especially with how things have been going lately? 

Unlike you, Sukuna was surprisingly civil after learning that you would live with him. Simply nodded and gave you a brief run down of where everything was in the high-rise apartment. He didn’t even ask why you, of all people, were suddenly helping him. Uraume was surprised but didn’t press on the matter as much.

“You’ve lost weight.” You could feel the vibrations of his rich and husky voice through the washcloth that you were scrubbing across his chest. Your first task as a ‘highly involved’ manager was to give him a sponge bath after his discharge from the hospital. His shoulder was still healing from the dislocation, so he had to wear a cast. “Hope you weren’t studying too hard.”

His comments fall deaf to your ears as you wring the washcloth in the bathtub. You silently wrap him in a warm fluffy towel and mutter a simple ‘up’ so you could clean the foam surrounding the ledge he was sitting on. You could feel his red eyes burning holes into your skull as you wiped down the area. He stayed in the bathroom the entire time you cleaned up the space, almost like he was waiting for you to guide him back to his room despite being perfectly capable of walking.

You thought he was just messing with you like he did back when you were together, but no, he was just looking at all the changes in your body after not seeing you for so long. It’s not like you had social media so he could look up your appearance. 

Sukuna wanted to send a private investigator after you. Still, he knew it was unethical (also because he was afraid he’d find out if you were in a serious relationship. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if it was true).

You groaned as you stood back up, stretching to relieve the pain in your back. “Your back still hurts? I’ve told you so many times that your posture sucks while you’re studying.” His looming presence just had you more annoyed. 

“You should rest.” You subtly tried to suggest that you wanted to be left alone.

“And you should show a little respect. You work for me now.” 

“Uraume’s my boss. Not you.” You were really working up a sweat, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the humidity in the bathroom or if you were raging on the inside. What made him think he could act all holier than thou after two years of no contact? Especially after being an asshole while breaking up. It’s like you could still see that side of him when you looked into his eyes. “I’ll have dinner ready after my shower.” And with that, you left the bathroom.

-

Preparing dinner was a dull affair. Uraume told you that you need not cook for Sukuna as he had a nutritionist who had created a meal plan for him and a chef who strictly adhered to it. All you had to do was store and heat the meals after the chef delivered them. Uraume also had the courtesy of having meals cooked for you, the same as Sukuna, but yours were more indulgent (more dipping sauces and fewer veggies). You were glad your job was simpler than you expected. In this economy, free accommodation and less money spent on groceries were a blessing.

You opened the disposable box of food for Sukuna, and it had all the things required for a balanced diet. It makes sense; his management probably doesn’t want him to lose or gain too much weight while recovering. It was the basics: half an avocado for healthy fats, grilled salmon for protein, lots of veggies for fiber, and an unimaginable amount of black beans with rice. Funny, did his nutritionist not know that he disliked them? Unlike him, you never had an issue with the legume, so you took some out of his box and put them in yours. So what if he had fewer beans for dinner? The man was injured, and as much as you resented him, you weren’t going to be a monster with him.

Sukuna entered the kitchen, sans t-shirt. You didn’t bother asking him why he was half-naked because you knew his reasoning would be something about you already knowing what his bare body looked like. 

Not with all the new muscles you didn’t. But you brushed that thought aside. 

“Is that my old shirt?”

You looked down and noticed that your oversized t-shirt was indeed his. It must’ve been in the back of your closet while the movers had brought in all your stuff. You had a lot of oversized clothes, but by some miracle, you happened to wear one that belonged to your ex. Your ears felt hot with humiliation. 

“I didn’t realize it. Must’ve forgotten to throw it away.” You said while setting up your plates. “It’s fine. Keep it. Haven’t thought about that shirt since… well- whatever. Just keep it.” He almost said it. He almost talked about it out loud. It felt weird hearing about it after so long. It shouldn’t be this strange. The breakup was a mutual decision that you both made and though it was something you had done out of pure frustration and anger, it was still something you both had done together. Pretending like it never happened was just never going to work. Not when you were meant to be with him 24/7.

However, you decided to push that conversation for another day. If it’s meant to happen, then it’ll happen; there’s no point in rushing it. You slid your plate next to your former lover’s seat on the dining table, and he said nothing when he noticed that he had fewer beans than you. Thank goodness. He didn’t need to know that you were still a little soft for him despite all the prickliness of the past.

You were about to lift your fork to eat when Sukuna loudly cleared his throat. “Aren’t you gonna feed me?” he flatly asked. 

“I’m not your-” you were about to tell him off, but then you remembered that his dominant hand was in a cast. 

“- sorry.” Embarrassed once again, you picked his fork up to feed him a piece of broccoli. “Sprinkle a little salt on that,” he said while chewing, giving you quite a gross view of the ground vegetable in his mouth. You held back your grimacing for the sake of your job and did as he asked. He grinned when you placed a salted broccoli in his mouth. “Now, give me a little salmon with that.” 

“Sukuna, can you please chew with your mouth closed,” you said while cutting out a bite-sized piece of his salmon. “You still love nagging me, huh? Also, cut a bigger piece. My mouth’s bigger than yours, hon.” 

You glared at him through your lashes and swore you could almost see him smile. Not the genuine kind, but the type that made you want to slap his face. His gorgeous, chiseled face. The one that once looked at you with everlasting love. You squeezed your eyes shut to escape your stupid daydreams. 

The past is past. You’re now in front of an egotistical dumbass. Not your lovable ex.

You cut up a bigger piece of salmon and tried your best to stop yourself from shoving it into his mouth. “That’s more like it,” he mumbled (after chewing since you had so respectfully asked). 

If only you knew that Sukuna was ambidextrous because he had broken his dominant hand while sparring too many times.

-

The last task for the day was icing his bruises for a few minutes before bed. Sukuna was sitting on his bed, head facing you while you were close enough to stand between his legs. He ignored his urge to pull you into his embrace for his sanity. After preparing the ice pack, you pressed it on his purple and yellowing bruises. Uraume had told you that he refused any kind of treatment back at the hospital, so they were getting worse. 

They weren’t wrong; you could see the pain on Sukuna’s face after he had neglected his wounds for so long. He had a particularly gnarly one beneath his left pec, and you bent down to reach it properly. Your head was below his chin, and he could smell your shampoo.

Strawberries. He noted that you still hadn’t changed your shampoo. You were always a stickler for consistency. He began to feel nostalgic as he remembered that there was a time when he used to smell like the same shampoo after staying at your place. His mind drifted to when you both showered together for the first time, how you lathered the shampoo in your hand and carefully massaged it on his scalp. No masseuse or physiotherapy had ever been that relaxing for him compared to the magic in your hands. He remembered how his pillow would smell like you for hours after you’d leave his place. Now, seeing you here was getting him worked up. Would his house begin to smell like your perfume now that you were here? He wanted to set fire to all your clothes and only let you wear his if it meant that all his clothes would smell like you. Two years have gone by, and he still feels like he wants to inject you in his veins.

All while Sukuna was in his nostalgic dreamland, you were trying your best not to focus on his pebbled nipples, courtesy of the ice pack.

—

taglist: @sukubusss @kyo-kyo1 @kensqueent @totallygyomeiswife

[aingeal98]

I think, after No Man's Land was over, Babs was probably the one to go with Cass to get a full doctor's assessment. Bruce probably read through all the files afterwards but Babs was the one sitting in the room with Cass as the doctor explained all the symptoms of malnourishment he could see, the state Cass's teeth and hair were in, the clear signs of trauma she displayed, all the impact almost 10 years of being a homeless child constantly running from her father had on her. And that's before they even got into all the damage done by the years of David Cain's abuse.

Cass wouldn't have really understood what they were saying. Just noticed that the doctor seemed like he wanted to throw up and Babs looked like if he kept talking in another few minutes she would either start crying or get angry. Which is weird because the only thing on screen is a photo of all Cass's leg scars and she doesn't get the horror. Yeah he shot her when she was six yeah that wound got reopened infected when she was nine and on the run and became an even nastier scar after months of pain. She survived and none of it made her a worse fighter so who cares.

I think Babs, looking at this teenager who's now living with her, under her care, so unbothered staring at an x-ray of her skull with visible thickness in certain places where the bone clearly had to heal over large cracks, would feel the weight of a life in her hands in a way she never had before. And it would terrify her.

[ashlynnfall]

ekko looks for powder in the color blue. the sky, the water, hair, and eyes. blue blooms in the flowers near his tree and weaves through the streets of zaun, leaving trails for him to follow, leading him to something that no longer exists.

ekko looks for powder in light. it emanates from fire and spreads throughout zaun in the night. it's in the fixtures that decorate the streets, and it cascades down onto ekko's hideout, illuminating the mural that commemorates what has been lost. light reminds him of her. her bright smile and her blinding beauty. it revives the past they shared before tragedy struck, of that unforgettable night where they danced under the stars, of that kiss on the ledge...it's an everlasting reminder of his deepest affection.

ekko looks for powder in the gadgets he possesses. he searches for traces of her in the trinkets he collects, tinkering away to create new ones. inventions are where he looks the hardest, reminding himself of the days they spent working on innovative projects together. he thinks of her genius, her drive, and her madness in the craft. the memories bring a comforting smile to his face, which is a rare sight these days.

ekko looks for powder in time, lamenting how much they used to have together. there's a cruel irony in "the boy who shattered time" nickname. he was unable to spend the time he wanted with her, he couldn't shatter time enough to fit his needs. he enjoyed what they spent together, but it was too little. he could rewind time over and over and over again, but he still wouldn't get enough of her. his love for powder is timeless.

ekko looks for powder in his title: the boy savior. yet another cruel irony. he saved the entire world, ensuring the survival of many. in fact, he's spent his whole life saving people. he's always sacrificing his own needs for others as he leads a life of unbridled altruism. in a way, he's making up for being unable to save powder from jinx and silco. the boy savior, capable of rescuing anyone and everyone, except for the love of his life.

ekko looks for powder in the new era of zaun. sevika leading in the council, children running in the streets in glee rather than fear, the people breathing fresh air-it was everything they ever dreamed of. if only she was around to see it. ekko searches for the murals dedicated to her, seeks out the remnants of her hideout, scouts for anyone with leftover stories of her to tell. he observes the elated spirits of the city and bears the pain deep within his smile, reminding him of what could have been.

ekko looks for powder physically. it's not enough to just remember her. he needs to hug her, hold her close, and never let her go. he needs to hear her voice again, to invent with her again, to dance with her again, he just needs her to be here again. powder's absence is impossible to ignore, and ekko's tired of acknowledging it. he wants to be selfishly in love with her, but he can't. the world needed a savior, ekko answered the call.

ekko never stops looking for powder. she's in his head, in his heart, in his memories, in his home-no place is without her image. in his mind, powder's words echo promises of the past, not knowing that they'd be broken in the future. he searches for her in the people of zaun, hoping for the day when someone's face matches the one he craves to see so desperately. his search is endless, hopelessly devoted to a ghost of his past.

ekko finds powder in the hand that extends to him from a large white blimp. blue and pink nails decorate the pale skin covering it, confirming who stands before him. he looks at her bright smile, her pink eyes, the blue hair that grew back to the tops of her shoulders, the beautiful face he yearns to get lost in. he takes her in, processing everything he can see, praying that this isn't some horrible dream or hallucination.

ekko finds powder in the hug that they share, the hands that he holds, and in the lips that kiss him. ekko finds powder in the promises of adventure, in the conversations about their post-war lives, and in the apologies for everything. ekko finds powder.

powder and ekko find each other in love, in the reunion with their surviving friends and family, in the celebrations of a new zaun. they find each other on the dance floor once again, but this time, in the right universe. they bask in each other's arms, refusing to ever let go.

ekko finally finds powder, promising to never lose her again.

a/n: hi! i wanted to give ekko the ending he deserves because he's my fav character and deserves the whole world. timebomb as a couple mean so much to me, so i wanted to write a little story about their reunion after the finale of season 2. i need them together!! i also just adore ekko and powder, and that scene of them dancing in the alt universe was insanely well done. i hope you enjoyed my work, and thank you for reading! any tips of improving my writing or general thoughts on the fic would be greatly appreciated. thank you for your time <3

[thebluester2020]

Ok loved the Seb maid post, but now I’m curious about the other Bachelors having a maid kink 👀 Your work is 🔥🔥🔥���

Thank you for the compliment, anon! Thankfully, I have a whole laundry list for the bachelors and how they'd be with a maid!reader <3 (Sorry this took so long to get out anon! Thanksgiving break + getting ready for finals, and Christmas has me in a chokehold rn 😔)

Warning(s): Rough Sex (For Shane and Alex mostly tbh), Munch Elliot, Sub!Harvey,

SDV Bachelors Having A Maid Kink

Shane

Y'all already know I have beef with this man so I'll start the slander early.

He's putting you to work, you're going to earn your paycheck when he comes into the cafe. And not through breaking your back trying to fulfill his seemingly never-ending orders of drinks, or him inviting you over to do cutesy hand signs, oh no, that's just part of the job.

I'm talking, he'll be the last customer to leave, and why? Because he has to fulfill his trope of being the "Ugly Bastard" that's always spotted in those NTR mangas (aka bending you over the cashier counter while fucking you to the point of nearly being braindead, all while you tell him how much you just loooveeee your master)

♡ - "C'mon maid, it's like you're not even trying to earn a fat tip."

This guy had been in the cafe since the early evening. For a while now, he'd been watching you and practically breaking your back with the amount of requests he'd been giving you! From requesting drink after drink after drink, to inviting you over to perform little love songs and even draw hearts in his drinks. It'd been non-stop and you were nearly sick of it! So sick of it in fact, that you hadn't even noticed how your customer had been practically eye-fucking you your entire shift. He imagined bending you over and fucking you stupid on almost every piece of furniture available in the cafe.

But his favorite location so far? The cashier counter.

The idea of someone walking in and witnessing him plow the cutest maid of the cafe until she was sobbing for more of his dick had him sporting the biggest hard-on he's ever had in his life.

Luckily, however, his dreams and fantasies seem to be coming true more often lately.

"F-Fuck!" You whined when Shane suddenly slapped your ass, your eyes beginning to well up with tears from the pain as it started to mix in with the pleasure, his cockhead bullying your poor cervix as you grabbed at the edge of the counter for dear life. Shane chuckled when one of your hands came behind you to weakly push at his thigh, hoarse whines and moans of 'Gimme a break' leaving your kiss-swollen lips. "You sure you want a break cutie?" He cooed. "You look like you're enjoying my cock soooooo much though~" As he leaned down, he pressed some of his weight down onto you, his hot breath fanning against your ear as his hands on the sides of your waist pulled you onto his cock even harder.

"If you really want a break, then beg your master a bit more properly."

You sucked in a breath, your pussy clenching harder around Shane's length at the way his words rolled off his tongue. "Well?" He panted, grabbing at your hair to pull your head up so he wouldn't miss anything you said. And eventually, you shook your head, a laugh nearly erupting from Shane as you had basically admitted to him that you loved his cock way too much to even think of a break.

And since that was the case— "Get your hand off my thigh then slut," He tsked. You gasped when he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your sides, using the new leverage to fuck into you even harder, tearing groans and high-pitched whines from your throat as the feeling of the veins along the sides of Shane's thick cock rubbed against your walls threatened to make your head spin. "L-Love your cock...!" You said, a brainless giggle leaving your mouth at the end. One that nearly made Shane gasp with how much harder he suddenly got at your words and how shamelessly you said them.

"What was that?" Impossibly, he fucked you even harder, the fat of your ass rippling at the sheer force of his thrusts, creating a delicious scene that Shane struggled to take his eyes off of as you tried to look at him over your shoulder. "Say that again."

"M-Master..." You moaned. "L-Love your cock!" Your thighs trembled at the force of your impending orgasm, drool dribbling down the corner of your lips as the knot in the pit of your stomach grew almost unbearably hot. "Iloveitloveitloveitloveittttt!" Your customer smirked at your crying devotion to his dick, his grip around your wrists tightening as a deep groan escaped his throat with how you suddenly squirted all over his dick, your gushing heat pushing him to his own orgasm as he suddenly pressed himself as deep as he could go into your pussy.

A long sigh drew out of your lips, your forehead falling against the counter as you moaned softly to the feeling of your customer's thick cum filling up your insides.

By far, he had to be your favorite master.

Elliot

King of Respect. Very mindful, very demure.

His kink comes in the form of the trope of "Maid does a poor job of cleaning so the master has to teach her how to do her job correctly".

You accidentally spilled tea on Elliot's lap while serving it to him? No problem! Not only would he help you clean, but he'd even give you tips on how to properly serve and clean up your messes, how generous!

In a more straightforward term, it's Elliot being the classical munch.

♡ - Your customer was really good at teaching you how to be a better maid.

When you had accidentally spilled tea on his lap earlier, you had expected him to be angry and cause such a commotion that it'd spark your boss to come out of his office and fire you on the spot! But, he hardly flinched when the room-temperature tea touched him, simply waving it off with a smile and telling you not to worry your head about it.

In fact...he was even willing to teach you how to properly serve tea, as well as how not to spill it so clumsily! And this teaching was, by far, the best one you could have ever gotten from a customer you had just met twenty minutes prior. "Mmm...don't spill the tea dear," Your customer warned from behind you as he sucked your cute clit, slurping up your juices and licking his lips like a dog would lick its chops after a meal. "Otherwise, we'd have to reset the timer, and that wouldn't be fun for you...wouldn't it?" You whined at the feeling of Elliot's long tongue fucking in and out of your cunt, the teacup on top of the serving plate shaking so loudly that you feared someone would come in to witness you being eaten out by a customer.

However, Elliot was good with stealing away any such frivolous thoughts when his fingers began to tease your sex while his lips teasingly kissed your thighs and ass. "Keep still dear," You almost hear the smirk on his ridiculously soft lips. "The cup sounds like it's about to fall~" A shudder ran throughout your body when Elliot suddenly stuck a finger inside of you while his other hand came to massage your ass.

You, oh so badly, wanted to tell your customer to hurry up and make you cum. For the last ten minutes or so, you'd been dangling on the ultra-fine line between cumming and not cumming, each time you'd clench your twitching cunt around Elliot's fingers or your clit would throb in his mouth, he'd suddenly tear himself away and smirk in your face like a wicked fox!

"You can't cum just yet, you haven't learned how to properly do you job yet..." He'd say it in such an alluring voice that it was useless to try and talk back to him, to bat your eyes and attempt to convince him to make you cum. Not that you were complaining exactly, such a handsome man eating you out? His eyes hooded as he focused intensely on his work of making you feel as if you were always seconds away from cloud nine.

And rapidly, you were beginning to approach that peak once again. "M-Master..." You whispered as seductively as you could in the moment without sounding like a shaken-up rabbit. "Please...let me cum," You begged, shaking your ass ever so slightly in an attempt to have his fingers dig further into you.

You clenched when he hummed against you, his fingers leaving your weeping sex with a lewd 'pop'. "Hm...should I?" He moaned when he licked your slick off of his fingers, your taste only making him strain even harder against his slacks. "Have you learned how to properly do your job dear?" You nodded your head all too eagerly, panting out a series of 'Yesyesyesyes!' to your lover as you watched him through blurry eyes slowly stand up from his position behind you. Your tongue licked across your bottom lip as Elliot started to undo his belt.

"If that's the case, I suppose we should put your words to the test, hm?"

Sam

Similar to Sebastion, but I think he would like the possibly of "corrupting" a maid. When he went with Sebastion to Zuzu City and saw how you were doing such a good job, being nice and polite to the customers and generally just being so pretty that he could hardly believe his eyes.

All he could wonder was "What if I molded her to be the perfect maid for me?"

And so he did, classic blondie with blue eyes style, he flirted his way until you (during your work shift mind you!) led him to the storage room in the back and flipped up your skirt for him without a second thought.

♡ - "You're sooooo pretty, miss~"

Amid the lewd sound of your customer's balls slapping against your clit, your skirt flipped up to reveal your ass as your customer currently groped your chest over your clothes. He'd been repeating that same sentence to you for the last few minutes since you had snuck him into the breakroom! Choked-up moans and high-pitched whines tore from your throat as he fucked you into the breakroom's dirty couch, all as if you were some cheap whore!

And to be frank, you might as well have been one at this moment.

Your customer was just too charming when he flirted with you so shamelessly as you worked, nearly forgetting all about his poor friend who eyed you up and down just as much as the blonde did! Thankfully for Sam, however, you found his charms to be just a little cuter, which is why he was balls-deep inside of you right now, cooing all sorts of cute praises in your ear as he hugged your body to his torso like he was afraid that you'd disappear the second he eased up.

"S-Such a cute fucking pussy..." Sam whined in your ear, his rhythm beginning to stutter as he felt himself approaching his high almost embarrassingly fast. "Please...pleasepleaseplease let me cum inside baby," He pleaded. Your cunt tightened around his length at his begging, a gasp leaving your lips when Sam's hand traveled from your breasts to flip up your skirt even more, all so he could rub your throbbing clit. "Fuck!" You cried at the almost mind-numbing pleasure.

Your pulse raced in your ears, your juices dripping from your pussy even more now that he was rubbing your clit like he was just begging for you to go insane! Your arms started to shake, your head lifting tiredly to look over your shoulder at the tear-eyed blonde as you could've sworn you saw hearts form in his eyes when he opened them to look at you. "T-Too much..." You whined. "Baby, please...you're so fucking deep...c-can't handle...it!"

"Yes you can," He insisted before pressing his lips against yours. He whispered a soft 'you have to' against your lips as his lithe fingers increased their movement on your clit even more, constantly switching between a pace of teasingly slow and mind-numbingly fast. Your hand shot to Sam's wrist, fruitlessly trying to get him to slow down before you had let out a drawn-out moan against Sam's lips as you climaxed. Your cunt clenching so impossibly tight on his cock that the blonde could only manage a few more thrusts before he stilled against you with a groan.

The warmth of his cum flooding your insides almost made you sleepy, along with your shaky arms and how tired you were, it only increased that feeling by tenfold as you hesitantly parted your lips from your customer's, a single string of spit still connecting the both of you as Sam held a lovesick look in his eyes.

He took a moment to further catch his breath before he spoke. "When...when do you get off? So I can see you again."

Alex

Okay so hear me out, I can't see Alex going to a maid cafe but—

I can see his grandparents hiring a maid to help out around the house. Every day from 9am to 7pm.

The way you so sweetly helped out his grandparents made his heart skip beats, and the way his grandmother referred to you as a daughter only solidified his budding crush on you!

The final nail in the coffin, however? It was when you were cleaning his room and, in the middle of you changing his bedsheets, the sight of you bent over his bed nearly made him dizzy with how fast blood rushed to his dick.

It was only natural that he decided to fuck you on his bed while his grandparents were out!

♡ - You loved working for Evelyn and George.

When you first came to the valley searching for a job, the older couple hired you without a second thought! And they paid extremely well for such an otherwise simple job description, all you had to do was clean the house, cook a few meals when Evelyn was unable, and even occasionally help Evelyn water her plants! It was the perfect job, and that wasn't even taking into consideration that the couple's grandson was very handsome.

And he thought the same way about you as well. After a long day of working, sometimes he'd be blessed by Yoba enough to spot your skin shiny with sweat. The sight of droplets falling in between the valley of your breasts when he'd see you sitting down for a moment to catch your breath, tired from an hour straight of cleaning...his cock would get hard so fast that it nearly left him dizzy.

Suddenly, he couldn't function right if he didn't quickly excuse himself to go masturbate in the shower, imagining your mouth sucking on his cockhead as he gently coaxed you into taking him even further into your mouth. Your hands bracing yourself against his muscled thighs as the warmth of your tight mouth would eventually have him finishing inside and down your throat.

Alas, it was only a daydream.

Until it wasn't, one day he walked in on you changing his bedsheets, your dress unknowingly riding up your ass as you bent over to fit the sheets onto his bed. The poor guy nearly passed out from how hard he got! Luckily for him and you, he was able to release all that pent-up tension he had for you on you. Which left him with the only viable option left—

Fuck you like a dog on his bed! And thankfully, Alex's grandparents were out.

"Fuucckk..." Alex moaned into your ear, his body currently curled over yours as his arms wrapped around you to pull you even tighter against his body. Your cunt was addicting, in fact, he almost felt insulted that you were walking around his grandparents' house with such an unbelievably tight pussy! Pliant and eager to take every inch of his dick while making the lewdest noises.

"Maybe you should quit being a maid, huh?" He purred in your ear.

You gasped when he nipped the shell of your ear, your arms beginning to shake more and more as Alex fucked into your cunt even harder. His thick length was rubbing against allll the right spots inside of you. "C-Can't handle—Fuck!"

Alex laughed. "C-Can't handle? What?" He mocked you. "My dick? Maybe you shouldn't have looked so good bent over my bed." You could imagine a smirk decorating his face as you felt his dick twitch inside of you, the embarrassing sounds of your pussy seeming to grow louder as you rapidly approached your orgasm. Yet when his cockhead began to batter against your cervix, that delicious sting of pain made you crumble over as you submitted to your sudden orgasm. "Fuck yeah, juussttt like that~"

Alex's hands grabbed at your skin as he leaned back, situating his hands on your hips to pull you back onto his cock even harder as he enjoyed the sight of your gushing pussy practically having a seizure on his cock. When you whined from overstimulation, however, Alex couldn't help but sigh, he almost felt bad that he had to ignore your cute whines for the moment! It was far too hard for him to part from your cute cunt just yet, especially when he wasn't even close to his orgasm. "Bear with me for a little longer, will you pretty?" He chuckled.

"I'm not even close to being finished with you yet~"

Harvey

Kinda similar to Elliot and Alex's in a way? You were hired to help keep his place cleaning, after all, being a doctor meant that Harvey had an extremely busy schedule and thus couldn't be at home all the time!

When he first met you, he already thought you were super kind-hearted and seemed extremely dedicated to your job. He couldn't help how he developed a little bit of a liking towards you at first meeting!

But, like any man, there was always a fall.

And his fall came pretty fast when he came home a little earlier than usual one day, you were on your knees wiping some spilled cleaning fluid off the wooden floorboards.

The outline of your underwear against your dress was so lewd that Harvey fell like a stack of cards against the wind.

♡ - A pair of writhing bodies were on the floor, moaning and panting as hands ran over each other's respective bodies and beads of sweat dripped down their skins. Harvey had a mind to feel bad with how quickly he suggested you clean something else when he had spotted you on the ground, yet luckily for him, you were willing and all too eager to take up a new cleaning task.

One that quickly turned from you sucking him off to you now fucking him like a bitch in heat on the floor, your face tucked into the side of his neck as your ass slapped against his thighs, his hands grasping at your sides desperately in order to further aid you in fucking yourself on his dick.

"Y-Yoba Y/N...t-too fast...!" His moans were so cute, you thought.

But so unbecoming of your master! He was the one who sported an obvious hard-on when you had turned your head to see him staring at your ass so obviously! The least he could do was handle your speed as you fucked him on the floor. "Bear with it, won't you master~?" You pressed a sloppy kiss on his lips, his mustache tickling your face a little before you pressed a hand on his chest to raise yourself up a little. Your cunt clenched tighter around him at the lewd sight before you, your master being flushed in the face with lipstick marks all over him!

Cute pants and whines choked out of his throat along with confused babbling for you to both fuck him harder as well as slow down! It was quite the ego-booster, having a usually composed doctor be so easy to ruin with your pussy. "Oh please, master—" You leaned back down to whisper in Harvey's ear as you slowed down just as he requested, instead grinding back against his cock which seemed to make the doctor whine and grab your hips even louder. "—try to bear with me a little longer, will you please? You're too cute to let go of!" You giggled, your laughter quickly turning into gasping moans as your master started to fuck back up into you.

A tight knot quickly started to form in his stomach, sending him into a spiral of almost blinding pleasure as your pussy was practically begging to suck the cum out of his cock!

He tried to hold back, a weak and needless attempt to impress you more than he already had, but when you had kissed him, tangling your fingers into his hair. That was all he needed before he stilled against you with a muffled cry.

You sighed at the warmth that flooded inside of you, gently fucking yourself on Harvey a little more in an attempt to milk even more of his cum out of him before he whispered 'Too sensitive' against your lips. Thus, you gave him a little reprieve with a smirk. "You've been holding out on me doctor," You chuckled. "We definitely can't stop here!" Your urge to fuck yourself stupid on him grew even more when his eyes widened like a confused puppy's.

You had a new job assignment, fuck your master until he made you dumb on his dick, of course!

[sunnycanvas]

Can you write about a scenario, where, Baldwin loses yn, and gets incredibly upset over it, tries to find her (but secretly because people can't know he's actually seeing someone because of his leprosy) only to find out she was killed ? Maybe he finds her body too/retrieves it

Adiuva nos, Domine,

In tribulatione nostra.

Te clamamus, Sancte Deus,

Exaudi preces nostras

O Maria, Mater Gratiae,

Tu es refugium nostrum.

In tenebris et angustia,

Sustenta nos, o dulcis Virgo.

Sancte Michael, protector noster,

Defende nos in proelio.

Contra insidias diaboli,

Fidei nostrae fortitudo.

Gloria Patri et Filio,

Et Spiritui Sancto.

Sicut erat in principio,

Et nunc et semper.

Baldwin IV gripped his rosary with trembling hands, his knuckles white as he prayed fervently. He prayed for your safety. It had been days since you vanished, and he was drowning in helplessness. He couldn't launch a full investigation, not without risking exposure of the bond between you. The very thought of anyone discovering what you meant to him sent a cold shiver down his spine. Baldwin understood the dangers of being associated with him. Especially now, as a leper. His condition, his cursed existence, only amplified the peril for anyone close to him. He had kept you hidden. Your presence, your existence and shielded from the world, all to protect both of you. But now, the silence stretched on, and Baldwin could feel his sanity slipping. The thought of anything happening to you, of you being hurt or worse, twisted inside him like a sharp knife. Baldwin could feel his heartbeat beating so hard that it was painful. Baldwin never knew what fear was until he met you. The thought of you being injured or worse, Baldwin wouldn't know how to live.

"No," he whispered, trying to force away the dread that clawed at his insides. "You’re safe. You have to be safe."

Just as he finished his prayer and turned around, his eyes fell upon his mother, Agnes de Courtenay. She approached him with hesitant steps, her face drawn tight with worry. Baldwin didn’t need to see her expression to know it was bad news.

"Any word?" His voice was colder than he meant it to be, a harsh edge creeping into his words.

Agnes paused, her hands wringing together as she looked down. "No, my son," she stammered, her voice faltering. "I’m doing everything I can. I swear, I—"

"Everything you can?" Baldwin cut her off, his words sharp and cutting. His frustration was boiling over, the fear for you overwhelming everything else. "Your best isn’t enough, Mother. Not when her life is on the line!". His gaze was relentless, piercing through her with the weight of his anger. "I entrusted you with this. I trusted you to keep her safe, and now look where we are no answers, no progress". "How many days must pass before you start doing what you promised?" Agnes flinched, her eyes wide with the sting of his words, but Baldwin’s gaze didn’t soften. He was beyond patience. Baldwin IV continued with his voice that cut through the air like a blade. "So, it seems her presence was discovered after all," he said, his tone ice-cold. "Mother, you’ve failed utterly in keeping her hidden, just as I entrusted you to do. Is this truly the best you can manage?" He paused, his eyes narrowing, fury flickering in them. "Perhaps I was a fool to trust you at all. I should have given the task to my uncle, someone who might actually be competent. Clearly, you can't even manage something as simple as this." His words were like a slap, and the venom in his gaze made it clear he had no room for excuses.

Agnes flinched at the sharpness in her son’s tone. She had braced herself for his wrath, but the sheer intensity still struck a chord deep within her. Yet, she wasn’t going to retreat without a fight. Gathering her courage, she straightened and replied with calm defiance. “Of course,” she began, her voice firm despite the tension in the air, “a mere noblewoman like me is no match for the Dowager Queen, your stepmother, who has been quietly maneuvering to place your half-sister Isabella on the throne. Let us not forget that Isabella holds a claim through your father.” Baldwin’s brows furrowed, confusion momentarily softening the fury etched into his features. The sudden mention of Maria Komnene was unexpected. Agnes caught the subtle shift in his demeanor, recognizing the spark of intrigue. She pressed forward without hesitation. “I have evidence,” she continued, her voice steady and deliberate, “that a woman matching (Y/N)’s description was seen in Nablus. And where does your stepmother reside? Nablus. It’s no coincidence, Baldwin.” His eyes widened, a mix of shock and desperate hope flashing across his face. Without waiting for his mother to elaborate further, he barked out a command. “Prepare the horses! We’re leaving at once.” Agnes started, alarmed by his abrupt reaction. “Baldwin, wait! The evidence we have, it’s flimsy at best. It only hints at her presence, nothing certain—”

“I don’t care!” Baldwin cut her off, his voice trembling with emotion. “If there is even the slightest chance (Y/N) is there, I will go. No matter how faint the trail may be.” Determined to avoid unnecessary attention, Baldwin insisted on going alone, without knights or a retinue. Agnes, unwilling to let her son journey into potential danger alone, argued until he relented. Exhausted from the emotional storm, Baldwin agreed with little resistance. Both mother and son disguised themselves as common travelers, cloaked in simple garb with hoods obscuring their faces.

As they rode under the cover of blazing hot sun, Baldwin’s thoughts churned in turmoil. His stepmother, Maria Komnene, had always been ambitious, but would she truly act so brazenly? He scowled beneath his hood, considering the other players in the shadowy game of politics. Could Raymond of Tripoli, his calculating cousin, be involved? Or the Ibelin brothers, notorious for their scheming alliances? His instincts told him 'No, they wouldn’t dare'. That left only one man: Guy of Lusignan, his reckless and power-hungry brother-in-law. The very thought of Guy made Baldwin’s grip tighten on the reins, rage building in his chest.

Agnes, as if sensing her son’s thoughts, spoke softly. “Do not let your mind run wild, my son. This reeks of your stepmother’s hand. She has made alliances in the court, strengthening her position. Her marriage ties to the Ibelins have been... advantageous.”

Baldwin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his silence betraying the storm within.

As they neared their destination, something caught his attention. A familiar figure moving in the distance. Baldwin’s breath hitched. “Sibylla?” he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. His gaze snapped to his mother, who appeared just as stunned. Without a word, Baldwin motioned for silence, urging his horse to follow his sister at a safe distance. Agnes, still reeling, followed his lead.

Sibylla led them to a secluded area, where she dismounted and began speaking to a shadowy figure. Baldwin and Agnes dismounted as well, watching from a concealed position. “Make sure her body is disposed of in a way that it can’t be recognized,” Sibylla ordered, her voice cold and resolute. The man bowed slightly, replying grimly, “Of course, my lady. Anything else?”

Sibylla smiled, a cruel satisfied expression that sent a chill through Baldwin. “Oh no, you’ve done an absolutely fantastic job in killing (Y/N). My brother may mourn her now, but he will thank me later.”

Baldwin froze, the weight of her words crashing down on him like a tidal wave. For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His vision blurred with a mix of fury and devastation. Then, without hesitation, he unsheathed his sword and spurred his horse forward.

"SIBYLLA!" His voice thundered, raw with fury, reverberating like a war cry that sent chills down the spines of even the most hardened knights. Agnes barely had time to reach out before her son was charging toward his sister, the blade in his hand glinting like justice itself.

Baldwin IV’s horse reared back, its hooves striking the air as his roar echoed through the desolate clearing. His blue eyes, ablaze with rage, locked onto his sister’s frozen figure. She stood trembling, her schemes exposed, with no crowd to shield her from her brother's wrath . The man standing beside Sibylla, realizing it was the king himself bearing down upon them, stumbled backward, stammering incoherent apologies before bolting into the shadows. Sibylla was left alone, her fear-stricken body rooted to the ground. Baldwin’s horse halted mere feet away from her, nostrils flaring, its king equally volatile. “I should kill you where you stand!” he bellowed about to striker her with his sword. Sybilla although fearful of her brother's wrath somehow narrowly escaped the sword stumbling backwards in fear by sheer luck. "You scheming, treacherous fool!" he growled, his voice low and deadly as he urged his horse forward ready to strike her again. "You dared to betray me?" His tone was laced with a venom that made Sibylla’s knees weaken. She stumbled backward again, her face pale, eyes wide with dread. She had never seen her brother like this, his normally composed demeanor shattered by pure, unrestrained fury. As Baldwin surged toward her, his expression promising retribution, Agnes’s voice cut through the chaos, her horse galloping into the scene as she placed herself squarely between her son and daughter. Her arms spread wide in a protective gesture, shielding Sibylla from Baldwin’s wrath.

"Baldwin, stop!" Agnes implored, her voice trembling with urgency. "You cannot do this!" “Please, Baldwin, don’t do this!”. Agnes reasoned, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her fear. She had seen her son angry before, but never like this—never so unhinged, so consumed.

Baldwin’s horse came to an abrupt halt, its hooves digging into the dirt as he glared down at his mother. His blue eyes burned with fury as he snarled, “Get out of my way, Mother.” His voice was low, trembling with restrained anger. “She doesn’t deserve your protection" "Not after what she’s done. None of you do.”

Agnes held her ground, her voice firm but laced with desperation.“(Y/N) wouldn’t want this,” she pleaded, her eyes softening.

Her words acted as a spark to dry tinder, igniting an even fiercer blaze of rage in her son. His horse snorted and shifted as he practically snarled in response. "DON’T YOU DARE BRING HER INTO THIS!" Baldwin’s voice boomed, his rage untethered. "Do not use her name to shield your guilt! You all killed her!" He gestured wildly toward Sibylla, his accusations cutting like daggers. "You, with your selfish schemes! You destroyed the only person who ever made this wretched existence tolerable!" he snapped, his voice cracking as he gestured sharply toward Sibylla. “You all killed her!

Agnes desperate in fear mumbled "Please Baldwin, you can't do this" "Killing your sister will start a civil war" "Our kingdom won't receive donations to survive by our own cousins" . Baldwin in anger retorted "Do not speak to me of what I can and cannot do, Mother! Do you think I care for appearances anymore? Do you think I care for laws or blood ties when my very own family killed her?" His voice cracked as it reached a crescendo, raw grief mingling with his fury.

Agnes's lips parted as if to argue, but Baldwin’s voice thundered again, silencing her. "She was the light of my life, the only light in this accursed kingdom of shadows. And you snuffed it out!" Sibylla, trembling and unable to meet his gaze, muttered something unintelligible, but Baldwin would not hear it. "Speak not a word to me!" he hissed, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl as he pulled his horse closer. "I should end you for what you’ve done."

His horse shifted uneasily beneath him, mirroring its master’s fury. Agnes held her ground, her hand gripping her saddle tightly to steady herself. “Baldwin, please!” she implored, her voice softer now, pleading. “Your anger won’t bring her back!” “No!” Baldwin’s shout tore through the night, his face contorting in agony. “But it will ensure justice is served! I will not let her memory be trampled on by the people who betrayed her.” Sibylla whimpered behind Agnes, tears streaming down her pale face, her voice barely audible as she tried to speak. But Baldwin ignored her, his gaze fixed on his mother as if daring her to move. “Step aside, Mother,” he warned, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “Or I swear, I’ll ride through you.”

Agnes moved her horse with determination, shielding Sibylla fully. "You are King, Baldwin. Do not let your grief destroy what she loved in you." "Your sense of duty. I am asking you, for the sake of the kingdom, to control yourself' "You know right how stability is fragile because of complex court politics right now". Agnes knew Baldwin just like her late husband Almaric was man of duty. Luckily for Agnes her trick worked and Baldwin took long labored breath to calm down Baldwin’s chest heaved as he sucked in a long, ragged breath, his fingers trembling on the hilt of his sword. His smoldering eyes burned with suppressed fury, unshed tears glistening under the hood of his cloak. Agnes knew, as much as Baldwin hated to show weakness, had his leprosy not robbed him of tears, they would be falling freely now.

Once assured that Baldwin was reigning in his rage, Agnes turned her attention to Sibylla, her face hard with disgust. “Why did you do this to (Y/N)?” she demanded, her voice like ice.

Sibylla, though visibly shaken at first, straightened her posture. She squared her shoulders, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. “I acted for the good of the kingdom,” she declared, her tone resolute. “You yourself have said how precarious the court’s balance is, especially after Father’s second marriage. (Y/N) was a poison to this realm, indulging herself with my leprous brother and leading us all to sin.” Baldwin’s fists clenched tighter at her words, his jaw set in a way that made it clear he was barely containing his rage. His voice, low and dangerous, cut through the air. “(Y/N) had no interest in court politics,” he growled, his tone trembling with anger. Agnes added swiftly, her voice icy, “Whatever schemes you think she wove, they existed only in your mind, Sibylla.” Sibylla scoffed, her confidence growing as she met her mother’s glare. “That’s what she wanted you all to believe,” she replied, a sneer curling her lips. “That whore seduced my sinful brother, wrapping him around her finger. She made herself indispensable to him, and in doing so, she threatened the delicate peace we’ve tried so hard to maintain. So, I acted.” Her voice hardened, her gaze unrepentant. “I drowned her.” Agnes gasped, her revulsion barely concealed, while Baldwin’s body tensed like a coiled spring, his fury on the verge of erupting. “Sibylla,” he warned, his voice deadly calm, “choose your next words carefully, or I will claw the very tongue from your mouth.” Agnes, sensing the explosion brewing within her son, leaned forward and hissed in a low voice to Sibylla, ensuring Baldwin couldn’t hear. “Where did you get this vile notion? Who planted these ideas in your head?” For a brief moment, Sibylla faltered, her expression shifting into something unsettling. A lovestruck reverie. Her voice softened as she whispered, “My husband told me. Guy explained everything. He opened my eyes to her true nature.”. Agnes froze, but Baldwin let out a groan of exasperation, the sound a mix of fury and dismay. He had heard enough to piece together the whispered exchange. His eyes blazed as he locked his gaze on Sibylla. The crackling silence between them spoke volumes, Baldwin’s composure hanging by a thread as he stared down the sister who had shattered his world.

“Show us her body,” Agnes commanded, her voice sharp and leaving no room for argument. To her relief, Sibylla gave no protest, silently turning to lead them toward an abandoned house. The acrid stench of death grew stronger with every step, guiding them like a trail. Baldwin dismounted his horse in silence, his face an unreadable mask. Inside the house, the smell became suffocating. It led them to a small room where (Y/N)’s body lay on a rickety bed, her lifeless form bathed in the dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls. Though the odor was strong, the appearance of her body was hauntingly serene, as if death had only just brushed her. Baldwin froze in the doorway, staring at her still form as if unable to comprehend what he was seeing. “(Y/N),” he whispered, his voice trembling. Slowly, he stepped forward, each movement heavy with disbelief and agony, until he reached the bedside. He sank to his knees, his trembling hands hovering over her face before cradling her lifeless body in his arms. His breath hitched as he took in her features the faint curve of her lips, the delicate eyelashes resting against her cheeks. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “So beautiful. You don’t look dead... only asleep.” His hand caressed her cold cheek, his touch desperate, as if his warmth alone could bring her back. “Oh, (Y/N),” Baldwin whispered, his eyes stung with unshed tears, his chest heaving with suppressed sobs. “Please... wake up. You promised me,” he pleaded, his voice raw and thick with despair. “You swore you wouldn’t leave me, not as long as I lived. You lied to me, my love... you lied...” He clutched her closer, his shoulders shaking as the grief consumed him. “You were my light... my only light in this wretched world,” he choked out, his voice cracking under the weight of his sorrow. “How am I to go on without you? How am I to face the darkness without you beside me?” Wailed by his diseased dry eyes . He kissed her hair dampening by his lips. He pressed his lips to her temple, his trembling breath ghosting over her still form. Agnes stood nearby, her own heart heavy as she witnessed her son’s anguish. She had seen Baldwin face countless battles, seen him stand tall against unimaginable pain, but this, this broken man before her, was a sight she could barely bear. His grief was raw, unfiltered, and so profound it filled the room with its weight. Baldwin rocked (Y/N)’s body gently, his words becoming incoherent as sobs wracked his body. His fingers brushed through her hair as though soothing her to sleep. “Please... just one more moment,” he begged the heavens, his voice barely audible. “Let me hold her... let me hear her laugh again... her voice, her heartbeat...”His cries pierced the air, echoing through the empty house, a king brought to his knees by the unbearable loss of the woman who had been his everything. And as Baldwin cradled her lifeless form, it was as though his own heart had stopped beating alongside hers.

Sibylla watched her brother’s grief with an almost placating smile. "It’s okay, brother," she said softly, though her tone carried a trace of condescension. "Let out your grief. This sacrifice was necessary for the betterment of the kingdom." Baldwin’s trembling stopped abruptly as her words reached him. His reddened face lifted to meet her gaze, his expression hollow yet sharp, like a blade dulled by too much use but still capable of cutting. "Who else worked with you?" His voice, though low, carried the unmistakable edge of restrained fury. Sibylla straightened, confidence flickering in her anger as she retorted, "Me. I acted alone." Baldwin’s gaze didn’t waver. "So Mother didn’t know about this," he said, his words heavy with accusation. His tone made even Agnes flinch at the mention of her involvement. "No," Sibylla answered firmly. "Mother didn’t know about this." For a moment, Baldwin seemed to freeze. His grief contorted into something darker, something terrifying. His face, already ravaged by disease and despair, now carried an expression of such cold rage that even Sibylla, emboldened as she was, felt her confidence falter. When he spoke again, his voice was chilling, devoid of any humanity. "You’re going to feel what you’ve done to me. The same pain, the same torment" "You will suffer just as you made me suffer. I will make sure of it." Sibylla’s eyes narrowed, her anger surging forth like a storm. "You dare call me selfish?" she snapped. "You sit on that throne, clinging to your miserable life, bringing sin upon this kingdom by indulging in your lust for that woman! It’s you who’s selfish, Baldwin not me! You should step down and let my husband rule" "A man who is strong and capable, unlike you." Baldwin let out a bitter, humorless laugh that echoed in the small, decrepit room. "Capable? Your husband?" He sneered, his lip curling with disdain. "A coward who hides behind you to make his moves? Don’t worry, dear sister. He’ll have his time to shine" "In the dungeon. I’ll ensure he becomes intimately acquainted with every torture device we own before I execute him." Sibylla gasped, her fury boiling over. She raised a hand to strike him, but Agnes, weary of the madness around her, stepped forward and caught her wrist, shielding Baldwin with her body. "Enough!" Agnes’s voice carried the weight of her authority, silencing the escalating storm. Turning to her son, she placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, her expression softening. "Baldwin," she said gently, "this... this isn’t what (Y/N) would have wanted. Let us focus on her, not on revenge." Her voice cracked slightly as she continued, "We should give her a proper burial. She deserves that, if nothing else." Baldwin’s breathing slowed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her words. His rage momentarily abated, overtaken by his grief as he looked down at (Y/N)’s body once more. "A burial," he whispered, nodding slowly, his focus entirely on the woman he loved. "Yes. She deserves that." Sibylla scoffed loudly but said nothing else, her lips pressed into a tight line. The tension in the room simmered, unspoken words and unresolved hatred hanging heavy in the air as Baldwin’s attention remained solely on (Y/N), his sorrow drowning out all else.

All three rode in solemn silence, Baldwin insisting on carrying (Y/N)’s lifeless body on his horse. No one dared argue. As they traveled back, Agnes swore she could hear Baldwin murmuring soft, sweet words to (Y/N), as if she could still hear him. She had always admired her son’s resilience and the strength of his mind, his determination to lead even as his body battled the ravages of disease. But now, watching him, Agnes feared that (Y/N)’s death might shatter him entirely, driving him into the depths of madness. They arrived at a small, secluded church under the protection of Agnes’s allies. Baldwin dismounted, his movements stiff but deliberate, and cradled (Y/N)’s body in his arms as he entered the hallowed ground. His hollow, vacant eyes met those of Patriarch Heraclius, who quickly approached with an air of confusion. Baldwin addressed the archbishop in a voice devoid of life, yet carrying the weight of an unbreakable command. "Take her body," he said, his words measured and heavy. "Ensure she is given a proper burial. On her grave, inscribe the words: ‘Light of the world for the leper.’" Heraclius froze in stunned realization, his gaze falling to the woman in Baldwin’s arms realizing that she was the lover of the leper king . Before Heraclius could respond, Agnes quickly stepped forward, leaning in to whisper firmly, "Keep her presence here a secret. Let no one know." Her voice was quiet but sharp, leaving no room for argument. Heraclius nodded, too shocked to protest, and turned to oversee the arrangements as Baldwin reluctantly placed (Y/N) down for the last time. Once outside, Agnes found her son standing near the churchyard, staring blankly into the distance as if searching for something beyond the horizon. His voice broke the silence, low and filled with a crushing sorrow. "As much as I speak of revenge, I know it is impossible. My actions would destroy the kingdom." He paused, the grief in his tone cutting through Agnes like a blade. "I couldn’t protect her in life, and now I’ve failed her in death. But I will protect the kingdom she loved. At least... when I meet her again, I can tell her I wasn’t a complete failure." Agnes reached out and rested her hand gently on his shoulder, her voice soft but resolute. "The fault lies with me as well. We both failed her, my son. But for your sake and hers, I swear to you—I will ensure that Sibylla and her husband never sit on the throne. Her son, your nephew, will rule instead. I will see to it." For the first time since (Y/N)’s death, a faint glimmer of relief flickered in Baldwin’s eyes. He turned to his mother, his voice regaining a trace of its usual sharpness. "Yes, you are right. This kingdom must not be ruled by (Y/N)’s murderer." His expression hardened. "I entrust you with this, Mother. Convince the Haute Cour. Do not fail me as you did before."

Agnes straightened her posture, her voice carrying a quiet determination. "I won’t. I promise you that."

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Hii! I saw your fanfic on Shadow of Wrath with Beast Y/N Cookie! I absolutely loved it! You don't have to do this, but maybe you could do a part 2? You don't need to do it! 🩵🤍

God- I need to stop letting my sister borrow my laptop- one shadow of wrath continuation coming up, dear butterfly!

previous part

Shadow of wrath part 2 (Beast Y/N cookie)

Simple to say things have changed drastically since Y/N cookie finally snapped. The fight between them and the beasts was short and easy for them, as though they were fighting mere children. But they weren't gonna crumble now, oh no no no. What good would it do if the beasts just get off the hook with a mere death? That wouldn't do you any justice, especially considering they're the ones who ruined your life from the start. So you'll make sure to keep them, alive but not unharmed. Your kingdom was already being repaired in any case, and having seen your new form the cookies were now scared of you. Good. Then maybe they'll be able to do the job right.

You kept the beasts down in a dungeon and weakened their powers by a large amount. In fact it'd be a miracle if they still had any powers left at all, considering you took their soul jams. Not like they'd need it in any case. They'd never leave. Never taste freedom again. Never be able to inflict more pain onto you. Nobody would. Not anymore. They will never hurt you again. And you'd make sure of it. It didn't stop at just imprisoning them, that would be far too easy. A little torment here and there would be delightful. Mental torture was implemented depending on how you felt. It was only fair since you had mental scars from what they put you through.

Shadow Milk cookie was a bit bitter about it all. How did five of them lose to one of YOU?! It was bringing back the whole "getting sealed away" thing. And to think you had the nerve to make fun of him. How audacious. He could easily make you a puppet and crumble you if he wasn't chained to the wall and had his soul jam. Why do you have to be such a diva? Can't you take a simple joke? Hmph, well clearly whatever the joke was hadn't been funny enough to let you spare him. Every moment you were together was filled with mock care, only to switch up the next moment and become someone so cruel even he was worried. He didn't let it break his spirit though. He still believed that he'd get out one day.

"And when that day comes, you'll be nothing more than a little toy caught in the web of deceit."

"Funny you feel that way. Perhaps you truly are so deceitful that you go as far as to lie to yourself."

Mystic flour cookie did try to remain indifferent to you, but you knew more about her than she even realized. You feed into her fears, reminding her of her failure to fix everything. And despite how she's insistent that what happens will make no difference, you know what makes her tick. You go on and on about how her quest to return all to flour was just as stupid as she was, how in the end she inflicted the one thing she was trying to get rid of. Pain. You go into how her solution to the cookies pain was nothing more than a lazy excuse to get out of wish granting. Whilst she still shows no reaction, you can se it in her eyes. She's not as apathetic as she says she is.

"It is futile to believe I'll break to mere taunting, Y/N cookie. In the end we will be return to flour, so why even bother. The suffering will end eventually."

"You truly think that changes anything? How blind are you? Your 'apathy' is nothing more than a pathetic hoax to hide your fear. And I plan to exploit that."

Burning spice cookie was BEYOND infuriated with you. How AUDACIOUS are you to be ripping out his soul jam from his chest, then having EVEN MORE NERVE to taunt him about it?! He'll destroy you! He's faced countless powerful cookies in the past. You're no different! Just fight him! It'd be a good form of entertainment! Silly spice. He's truly not worth the energy. It's more torture when you're just standing there, playing with his soul jam so carelessly, and pretending to drop it. How dare you tease him like that. How dare you be so gentle with him. Where's that beastly fighting spirit you had when you defeated him?! Why were you being so insufferably gentle?! That's just it. That's just what makes him tick. You didn't even have to say anything.

"What is the meaning of this weakness?! Why are you so disgustingly tame?! WHERE'S YOUR INNER BEAST?!?!"

"Hm. I won't give you the pleasure of knowing, mere spice. You're a lot more enduring when you can't cause destruction."

Eternal Sugar cookie was broken pretty quick. Why were you so mean to her?! Why so rough and harsh? Were you really choosing mere cookies over her?! How could you. Why were you feeding into her insecurities so much? Why were you so cruel to her? What happened to that sparkle in your eyes that made her ecstatic? Why did it dull away? Simple. Because you learned to grow up and stop acting like some naive child. Sure, she was pretty, but that's to mask how utterly useless she truly was. Nobody loved her. Nobody could. She was nothing more than a foolish idiot who didn't deserve the right of being beside you.

"You don't mean that. You don't mean any of that!"

"Oh you sweet little fool. The only thing that means nothing is the useless sloth I stand before right now."

Silent salt cookie was resilient, you'll give him that. Never showing any signs of emotion with you, neither verbal nor physical. Nevertheless, you would find a way to get to him. His silent was his weapon, but who's to say you can't exploit that? Besides, what can he do? Say nothing, do nothing, he's nothing.

"..."

"Silent, yet again. Though I'm starting to wonder... Is it because you won't talk... or because you can't."

With the reconstruction of your kingdom and the beasts under your control, you could relax, if only momentarily. Knowing this place, word was gonna reach the other ancients eventually. And when it does, you ought to know how you'll deal with them.

[mercurial--supernovae]

For a moment there.. they sincerely weren't sure what was going to happen.

Bibi knew they wouldn't be in any state to assist if a fight were to break out again, nor really in a state to get themselves out of here either.

More than a bit shaken.. the events of it all, leading up to the sight of rusted metal piercing through the human's chest replays in their mind on loop.

Something rocking them to their core quite like that hasn't happened since....

A while.

They aren't sure what to say. If they should say anything at all in case they might set someone off.

Kallex, he couldn't care less. He's just tired of being caught up in this and wants the fuck out.

This was supposed to be easy and now he's gotten himself drug into more drama and stakes than he had any real interest in even for a good payout.

Words appear to win this time. Though provide no further answers and plenty more questions.

The chimera's brows raise behind his shades which he'd now fixed back into their proper place at the sudden swift healing this Set was capable of. Then again, he probably shouldn't be surprised considering he just witnessed faer come back from the dead like it was nothing.

He's quick to stand and brush himself off after that with a muttered thanks. More so put out there for professional sake than anything. His tail stirs back to life, seemingly having gotten knocked out somehow or another during the collapse.

Bibi's wings give a flutter of relief as the hunter's healing grenade connects and any pain fades away to a distant memory, allowing them to stand more upright to look at the wreckage of their makeshift workshop. Loosing all their projects stung, but it was all those supplies they'd obtained that were the real loss more than anything.

It's probably going to take them a while to rebuild even half of that. But.. they shake their head. It's the least of their worries right now.

"The fuck are you on about apologizing? It was gonna happen anyways. And you did come to back up my ass. If anything I should be thanking you for bothering to get involved in the first place. Apologizing that you did. I probably would have been screwed if you hadn't showed up."

Bibi insists, expression.. distant. Like something's eating at them, but they know that look. It's not like they want to be dwelling anyways.

They turn to leave with Apollo after casting one last look over their shoulder at Set, an uncertain look flashing in their eyes for just a moment.

"Don't worry about that stuff. It's, not that big a deal really. I'll.. figure it out. At least I know the prototypes were viable now. Kind of."

And there they were. Standing amidst the rubble, freshly rezzed, injuried allies around them. After several years, trying everything to avoid talking, thinking, about the other, and what had happened between them during the Endless Night, here they were.

If this was some sort of pre-ordained bullshit, Apollo would have definitely preferred a different venue. Judging from their old flame's expression, and the machine gun aimed straight at their newly mended head, they doubted fae were stable enough to at least allow them to mend their friend.

"...Listen. We've all clearly been through a lot today," they attempt to reason. Set's dead stare doesn't soften in the slightest. "Bibi and this sore loser you hired nearly died. We did die..."

A warning shot was fired, inches from the exo's head. Tears were streaming from Set's eyes as they burned a hole through their dumb, striped chrome dome.

"Shut up," fae spat, taking a step closer, prompting the hunter to take another step back. "Do you have any idea the fucking hell I've been through since you left Dead Orbit?!"

Apollo glanced around at Bibi and Kallex both. One still had SIVA nanites embedded in her wings. The other was clearly wounded, both in body, and in pride.

They took a hard swallow, their fingers twitching in anticipation.

This was not the time or place for a vengeance-fueled heart-to-heart.

"If you want to do this, I'm sure you have plenty of time to do this when our buddies aren't fucking bleeding out," they fired back, prompting a snarl from the other. "So I'd advise we put a pin in this gods damned soap opera, and you can attack me again whenever we aren't surrounded by the fucking wounded."

Set's finger twitched over the trigger. Fae wanted to do this. Fae wanted so badly to take out every single indignity, punishment, lecture, and impossible task put on faer shoulders after "driving away" the Arachs' prized show horse on Apollo. Right here. Right now.

But fae couldn't.

Darkness take them, they were right.

Why were they always fucking right?!

"Fine," fae ejected, tossing faer Thunderlord aside. The weapon clattered as it rolled to a halt in the rubble. Fae wiped faer eyes on gloved fingers, and make faer way over to Kallex. Traveler knew the Warlock had dragged him into enough trouble today.

Boots humming with electricity, fae stood over the chimera, raised faer hand into the air, and upon flourishing downward, unleashed their Healing Rift in a swirling mass of Light. Kallex would find his wounds closing, and stamina replenishing in mere seconds.

"But I am coming back for you," Set threatened, staring at the exo over faer shoulder. "One way or another, you will answer for what you've put me through."

Apollo didn't meet faer gaze or even dignify the threat with a response. They merely stepped over the rubble toward their friend, summoned up the Light for a Healing Grenade, and tossed it to the arachnid who would find the nanites would fall out of any place they were embedded, wounds healing as he was probably familiar with by now.

"Bibi, I am so, so sorry," the Guardian redressed, eyes flickering in that familiar way they had the night they decided to havoc their troubles away. "I never in a million years would I have expected to run into Dead Orbit again, nor that you would get caught in the crossfire of my past coming to call."

Never mind the fact that this may well have happened with, or without their presence, and who knows what kind of havoc Kallex alone could have caused with Outbreak Perfected without someone not only resistant to, but experienced in combating SIVA to take him on.

"Come on. I'll find a way to repay you for the shit these two destroyed."

[dinarosie]

Me when I'm writing a meta about Snape's death and realize that when Voldemort summoned him for the last time, he probably knew he was going to die and was thinking about how, from the very beginning, it was his fate to be killed in the Shrieking Shack:

[theladyfae]

i think human nature/family of blood is a really good two parter in how it manages to show how full of shit ten is 🫶

[4thegadiesandlentlemen]

I'm just going to throw out an idea here. Err

So, Cam's God. Does it mean heaven and hell exist in the universe?

Wayne knows God exists, he's experienced the divine presence. He's spoken to God face to face. He's lived with him. Cameron being God means he can see all. He knows how people act. But face to face, they may hide some of it to avoid consequences (but I think some of these characters are a bit too honest for that). Fear in the face of God and all that. Wayne doesn't have that fear. Wayne doesn't hesitate to sin and inflict harm on his roommate. He just disrespects his creator??? Death wish. So when it gets too far, Cameron Slaughters him.

Could Wayne's fear of death also stem from that fact he'd go to hell? When he died, I'd like to think he experienced hell. Not like "oh this feels like hell" I mean like he's burning in the afterlife with no one to save him.

So when he gets brought back, he'd see it as like God taking pity on him and giving him a second chance. But he doesn't understand why he went to hell so he just does the same things except now his pranks are less extreme or something. And I think he avoids doing it to cam? I forgot the timeline. Obviously, that won't change where he's going. But yeah, he meets Justin (I am always going to reuse the Justin case movie when talking about him) and now he's in captivity with more freaks and he's losing his mind.

So basically, I think he'd value his life a lot more the second time. So I'll snatch your escape idea. Wayne was so desperate to live because he knows that if he dies, he'll end up in the worst place Imaginable. He'll even risk escaping the guy who's prepared for EVERYTHING (except being gassed).

Maybe Justin only showed the people trying to escape how the cloning process works to kill spirits and show the gravity of the situation as punishment. If he showed people who didn't attempt to leave, I feel like they'd try harder. But that could also be the possibility for those trying to escape. Justin could also just not show them. What if they actually escape and know how Justin's doing this. Wouldn't he get into even more trouble (he doesn't. Canonically, man just stops. Like, that's it. Hilarious)

And "God's Favourite"?? Oh what a painful thought. Like, obviously, Cameron hates Wayne. But the way he keeps being brought back only to suffer?? Wayne is God's favourite to punish. He's going to put Wayne through the same shit he went through. But God's favourite is such a ughhh get out of my skin get out of my skin get out of my skin get out of my skin get out of my skin get out of my skin get out of my ski

I feel so sigma !

AAAAAAAAA JUSTIN CASE UPDATE??? WHAT THE FUCK WHY DID HE JUST POST RHE SPOILERS TO THE NEXT INSTALLEMENT OF THE STROY RIGHT THERE INSREA DOF BEING LIKE YEAH IM DOING IT IM KILLING CAM RN FUCK ME (ron intended)

anywayssssss

nathaniel is dead, not very skibidi sigma of him at all but i’m not too surprised, cam’s been trying to get rid of ol’ nathan for a WHILE (besides, look at his last name. it was inevitable)

cam added a mary sue self insert oc that’s basically a god into the cgcu who’s summoned by racism and sexual jokes. damn.

i get the ending and it’s alright, but also seems anticlimactic. like cam shows up and tells justin “dude you’re a fictional made up character on the internet you’re already immortal 💀” and justin’s like “oh fr then ig i’ll stop” which isn’t that satisfying at all. i don’t like that ending the discord’s ending (ask me for an invite link if ur interested in the server, we’re all very cool) is much better since yk. it has actual character development.

personally? i don’t like this ending much and i am unsatisfied. it might be better if he actually posts it but i still don’t like it much. if only…….i finished the goddamn animation……..ughhh

also……….max? whipping it out? right there? cam you better film this part or else /hj

[dinosrawr]

To the poor friends that have watched me deteriorate a bit in the tags this month: I think I know what enhanced the pain so much this year. And now that I (think) I know, I'll be more capable of dealing with it. On my own, I mean. And not at 4am in Tumblr tags because I need to scream into the void.

[buttercuparry]

1k+ notes over a day, only for the fundraiser to barely have moved at all in 12 hours.

I don't know maybe you are tired of hearing about Siraj Abudayeh ( @siraj2024 ) but you have to remember that he is trying to survive through a genocide. I can guarantee you that he doesn't like asking for help either, rather everyday he struggles to reach out to people. I mean it is kind of horrible to have gone through Zionist harassment and then finding out that people have stopped responding to you in every way. It kills something inside, especially so soon after finding out that the occupation forces have once again bombed your already destroyed house for no purpose at all, except to flex their power .

Right now Siraj's family is struggling to make do. With the early set in of torrential rains, they don't know what is going to happen. They don't know if the 10 children of the family and the elderly parents will survive through this incoming winter! It is so horrible to have to beg for a chance to survive. So horrible to explain every detail of your life, your every action which in this case entails why he had to increase the end goal of the campaign. I don't know why the donations have stopped but you do realize that he wouldn't be bothering any of you if a settler colony was not bent on destroying Gaza to cement its existence right? He would have been in his home. His kids, his nephews and nieces would all be in the home he took a decade of pain to built. They wouldn't be terrified of the harsh winter ahead and that house of theirs would have given shelter to generations!

Siraj is begging you to donate so that he may buy shaders to water proof his tent. If in the next week the rains start without mercy, then the family at least wouldn't have to worry about leaks of icy water.

$80,121 / $82,000 CAD

1.8k to go. Please help Siraj reach the goal BY TOMORROW so that he may at least buy the shaders to waterproof the tent. Boost and Donate.

Vetting #219

[sheila--e]

the way Sheila's described as both being covered in scars and also being a very self destructive person with little care for herself and a desire to die for a good cause (or a very long way of saying she's got suicidal tendencies yet masks it as a form of courage) makes me think she self harms. it wouldn't be out of this world tbh. coping mechanism adopted from her self hatred and a need of punishing herself for being a horrible person. she doesn't know where to put all of those chaotic feelings, and the only way she can redirect it is to herself. not out of character frankly.

[bunnys-kisses]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ i like my men older - simon riley♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

you knew that your friends from school raised an eyebrow when you told them that you were dating a man almost double your age. you were in your twenties, while this 'simon' guy was close to fifty. you told them that he was an army man who had a gooey center for you.

your friends could see the upgrade in your laptop and the new knapsack with a logo that proclaimed it was expensive. the small chain around your neck with a 's' on it that you toyed with when they asked questions about him.

you looked happy, healthier even! you weren't eating minute meals and surviving off of black coffee. there was a little roundness to your cheeks now and you looked more alive. a glow to you that wasn't that while you trudged through your graduate program. so honestly, how could they complain?

if you had a glow to you, it was because you were often fucked out. most women your age through that dating an older man would mean having to go slow. be patient about technical difficulties regarding their cocks. that was what you expected from a man that old. especially one with aches and pains like simon. your poor si, he had been in the military his entire life. barely had the touch of a woman during that time! poor guy! of course you'll teach him all the ways a woman should please a man. the first time you ran your tongue on the underside of his cock he cam all over your head, and while you whined. it made you crazy hot. fucking simon was like fucking a live wire. he hadn't slowed down with age. he fucked like a stallion in breeding season. and he loved when he pulled his heavy cock into you. you once told him that he could be a cervix breaker. and he simply said, "well, if i break it... i can't breed it." which made you go slack jaw for a moment before he continued to rut up against you. you didn't expect a man of his age to have a breeding kink.

you practically begged your doctor to give you birth control, because he was not buying condoms. "don't fit in 'em, lovie." he said as he patted his clothed cock when you started dating. you knew that was impossible, condoms could fit a lot of things and while simon was fairly big. he could fit in a condom. but, no. when you tried to put them on yourself, he simply took it off, tossed it to the side and pinned you under his heavy weight. legs in the air as he rutted against you like a hungry animal.

he was so much bigger than you. wide shoulders, strong thighs and a bit of a gut to keep you folded under him. there was a masculine heft to him. he was strong, picking you up was easy to him even when you tried to tell him your weight. one time he gripped you by the waist with one arm and moved you out of the way. you kicked and squeaked as you were moved. but to simon it was easy as lifting heavy equipment. but that softness to some of his muscles really got you hot all over. it didn't help that part of your role as his girlfriend was to make sure that your man was fed. you cooked him meals and he over devoured in your sweet dessert. he loved you in an apron. all domestic and sweet for him. you were real wifey material. could easily be cooking meals for him and the kids in a few years. you can have a graduate degree and a few riley babies. "look good cookin' for me, darlin'. know how to make a proper meal for your man." you wouldn't admit but his words excited you.

simon can be a little... chauvinistic. it was just his age. while he respected female colleagues in the military and was beyond happy that you were getting your degree. he'd do things for you that you could clearly do on your own. like when you tried to fix the leaky tap in your flat. or when you try to carry all the groceries inside. yes, darling, you're a strong woman. but let him take over. take care of you. that was what a man did right? he'll cut the onions for you and try to fix your buggy wi-fi connection. he's pay for dinner every time and even get you dessert after. he'd wipe your face clear of the sweet treat you'd have. "don't ask her anything too difficult, johnny. she doesn't need to be thinkin' too hard." he once said with his hands over your ears and glared at his teammate. which only made the scotsman laugh. simon didn't mind if he had to take over. he'd never pull the rug out from under you, even when you were under him. you looked prettier under him, letting him take charge of your fucking. he took care of his girl, even when you whined and told him you were capable. there was no need to whine. simon needed to take care of his much smaller, much weaker baby girl. no need to break a nail trying to do stuff that simon could easily do for you.

even with the grey in his blond hair, he still kept up to you. there were times that you were too exhausted from day-to-day that you let simon rut between your thighs until he covered your round ass with his hot cum. you'd whimper which would turn into a yelp when he easily slipped his heavy cock into your sweet pussy. where it belonged. he fucked you heavily as his cum coated your behind, even trailing down your sloped back as you had your head in the covers.

"don't spill a drop off that pretty ass, baby girl. or else i'd might have to mark you again." thank god you liked your men older. <3

[drgnflyteabox]

can't get much better

pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k

You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.

Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.

You have.

"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.

"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.

"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.

You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.

"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"

"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.

You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.

His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.

Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.

"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.

"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"

"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.

Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day. 

Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.

"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."

"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.

"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."

The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.

It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.

He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.

"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.

"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.

You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.

He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.

"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.

Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.

"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb. 

"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.

"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"

"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved. 

This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.

"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.

"Yes," but that's not what he wants.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.

He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.

The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.

He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.

It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.

"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.

A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.

You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.

The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.

He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.

He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.

"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."

You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.

"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.

Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk. 

There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.

Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."

The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.

Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.

"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”

It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.

"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.

"What's that, sweet girl?"

"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.

"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.

"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."

"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.

<3

[magicdustsworld]

𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: A guide on how to properly date your tattooed, big, bad boyfriend.

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒: Established relationship, slice of life

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: some profanity, biting(non sexual), fluff, no curse AU, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n. (Would be just a short series of drabbles)

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏 : 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you." You say with a sheepish grin playing on your lips as you get on your knees, crawling over to him. The silk sheets crease under your deliberate yet rhythmic movements – something which he doesn't even seem to notice. For the felicity in your eyes and the ardor clouding your visage is a expression to great to ignore and even though it's Sukuna, he can't ignore you.

You reach his side, resting your arm on the bedframe, looking up at him with a expression akin to a child looking at something it holds dear. "You know I love you so much, right?"

He blinks, clearly baffled with your sudden proclamation of love. Raking his brain over everything he did today – nothing out of the ordinary except being a asshole to that one salesman who wouldn't take his leave until selling his– whatever it was. But for Sukuna that's ordinary cause he's a jerk at heart.

He tilts his head, "What do you want?"

"Your arm." You are quick to reply, voice carrying an ardor which is too loud to miss. "Give me your arm."

His eye twitches, shooting you a – are you serious – look. You reply with a nod, stretching your hand, asking to get served. A disinterested scowl graces his lips, sparing you a glance, he turns to the opposite side.

This time, your eye twitches. He did not just reject your advances. You huff, inching closer to him as you place your hand over his bicep, "Baby... look at me."

He does. You jut out lower lip, eyebrows furrowing and tipping your head up at him. He can't help but consider how much you ressemble a cat with that expression. He pinches his lips, "If you think that's going to convince me otherwise then you're wrong— ow!"

In no time, you have sunk your teeth on his bicep, the canines puncturing the flesh, incisors holding the skin in place as you glare up at him.

Sukuna winces in sheer pain, trying to pull his arm off of your hold but you remain adamant on not letting him go. "Owh— what the actual fuck woman? Let go of me!"

You do let go, retracting your mouth but do not let go of his arm. You pout at him and Sukuna looks down at the attacked area. A circle of crescent moon shapes has forned on the part of the skin – it hurts like a bitch.

He turns to face you fully, crimson eyes blazing with a rage as he looks down on you. "What the hell was that for?"

You pout, narrowing your eyes, "Cuddle with me."

"After that stunt you pulled? Absolutely not."

"Absolutely yes."

He glares at you and you glare back; the silence turning into a staring match.

Sukuna scans your face, the crease on your forehead to the way you've twisted your lips and finally the flicker of vexation in your eyes.

Definitely a cat.

He sighs, threading his fingers through his hair before stretching out his arm. "Come here."

In an instant the irkness vanishes and you jump into his arms, eyes gleaming with delight and mouth stretched into a triumph grin. You giggle, "I knew you'd come along." You say, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck as Sukuna loops his arm around your waist, shifting you to a closer and better position.

He sighs, "Whatever, brat. Just don't bite me again."

You pursue your lips, gazing at him with a guilt. Leaning up, you press your lips against his cheeks in a chaste kiss, "Mhm, sorry."

Heat rushes up Sukuna's face, spreading from his ears to his neck; he looks away from you.

"Aw, are you blushing?"

"Shut up."

"You are blushing."

He merely responds with placing his hand on the back of your head and pushing your face down on his chest. "Shut up."

You giggle, mumbling something incoherent before snuggling closer to him. "I love you."

This time, Sukuna doesn't suppress the idiotic grin which spreads on his lips. With your face pressed against his chest, he strokes your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

"I know, brat."

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟐