#the second hand embarrassment is strong with this one
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cherrygirlfriend · 10 hours ago
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the cons of long nails pairing: reader x stepbro!rafe synopsis: rafe's stepsister has acrylics on and can't touch herself so he helps her warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving) MDNI! wc: 700it's the second day of my birthday week celebration! was this inspired by me doing my own acrylics and being unable to do anything with them? mayhaps. real ones know the struggle (˶˃⤙˂˶) below are the kind of nails i picture her to have!! she’s a lilac princess ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
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your freshly manicured nails were digging into the skin of his shoulders; loud whines escaping your lips as rafe's were slowly making their way down your body; leaving a trail of warmth every time his lips made contact with your bare skin, small gasps escaping you whenever he nipped at your skin.
"quit whining..." rafe groaned into the skin of your abdomen, before he lifted his head slightly, the blonde's half-lidded eyes looked up at you, his pupils blown out, a small grin creeping up his lips, "or i'm gonna stop right now."
"you won't." you said with pursed lips, no confidence in your voice, causing him to grip your thighs tightly, his eyes narrowing as a wicked grin overtook his lips.
"are you sure you wanna test that?" your stepbrother grabbed one of your wrists, looking at your nails, "just had to get your nails done so now you can't even please yourself, hm? had to come to beg your stepbrother to help you."
"i didn't beg..." you mumbled, your face feeling hot with embarrassment.
"oh, really?" rafe snorted, "rafeyy, please, i got my nails done but 'm really horny, can you help me?" he spoke, mocking your tone and the earlier words you used on him, causing you to try and turn your head to hide your face, only for him to roughly grab you by your chin, making you look at him. "don't turn away from me. you're gonna stop whining, aren't you?"
his tone left no room for argument, so you simply nodded, letting out a timid, "yes." as you leaned back on the bed, rafe letting go of your wrist, his lips continuing their descent to your aching pussy, the blonde's long fingers slipping under the waistband of your soaked panties.
the time it took him to slide your panties down your legs was almost tortuous, rafe no doubt making sure to go as slow as possible, wanting every part of you craving and aching for him.
he pushed apart your legs, a trail of wet kisses pressed on your inner thigh while you held your breath in anticipation for when you'd finally feel him where you needed to; your head starting to feel dizzier the longer he took.
but when his tongue flicked at your puffy clit, your breath escaped your throat, mixing in with a moan you'd been holding back. rafe chuckled, the sound causing vibrations to run through your body, shivers climbing down your spine.
without even giving you a moment of respite, his tongue gathered up some of the wetness from your entrance, bringing it to your clit as his lips attached themselves to the swollen bud.
you arched into his touch, gripping his hair as moans and whimpers left your lips, each flick of his tongue on your clit causing another flash of electricity to crawl up your spine as he sucked on it, drawing out sensations you hadn't experienced before that moment.
rafe was gripping your thighs so roughly you were sure it'd leave bruises in the shape of his hands. still, you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when your eyesight was blurry just from having his lips around your clit, not when the burning feeling in your abdomen was so strong even though he'd only been attacking your clit for minutes; not when you didn't even have any concept of time thanks to him.
you were trying to moan his name, but your brain was so muddled by the things he was making you feel, you weren't quite sure what you let out of your mouth, but rafe still knew the moment you came by the loud whine and the tightened grip on his shoulders, all the while you were clenching around nothing.
when your panting had turned into only slightly quickened breathing, rafe pulled back, straightening his body as his body covered your own, a self-satisfied smirk on his face at the blissed-out expression you were sporting; and before you could say anything, he brought his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself.
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parkerluvsu · 21 hours ago
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currently having thoughts about art tied up with red ribbons for christmas... like a present <3 even better.. him tying the ribbons around himself.. wanting to surprise you when you get home, looking in the mirror while he ties pretty bows around his strong calves and toned biceps, taking the time to look handsome for you...
when you get home, he's laid out on the bed all pretty for you, the red of the ribbons contrasting against his milky skin, face red with embarrassment as he lets you practically grope him, sliding your hands over his soft abdomen, placing kisses on him while he tips his head back on the pillow..
art has always had a problem with being greedy.. a problem you can clearly see when he's chasing a second orgasm by planting his feet on the mattress, fucking up into you like it's nothing, like he's not panting and whining in your ear as if you're the one fucking him.. his hands still find your hips as he slams into you for the last time, his balls drawing up and hips pressing as close to you as humanly possible.. he doesn't know it.. but when he cums he's looking to make it stick, to make you full, to breed.
you think you'll ask him to surprise you more often <3
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feidude · 2 days ago
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the system gives SQQ a new plotline to complete by the name of “shen qingqiu’s shidi seduction storyline” and SQQ is frazzled, as he sees the title and is like ??? excuse me?! how can i do this to my loyal, respectable and ever so straight shidi!!! but system shows the first task and he’s like ah? it’s just tying my hair up?? what kind of seduction is this..? …and it’s worth 25 B-points u say?? hmm not bad, not bad at all!! ….well…ok! sure 👀👀
and so it begins. before the next scheduled meridian cleansing, SQQ ties his hair in a high ponytail and it’s honestly kinda nice bc the weather was becoming awfully warm and all. anyway there’s a resounding knock on the door and SQQ composes himself before opening the door and saying w/ a smile gracing his lips, “Liu-shidi!! this shixiong has been waiting for you!!” and……silence. Liu-shidi looks stunned, eyes quickly glancing at his neck (hm?) before he turns his head, pointedly not looking at SQQ. There’s an uncharacteristic flush on his cheeks but he’s frowning, and with gritted teeth, says: “You--!…I’ll come back later!”
And in the matter of seconds, he’s gone, and SQQ is just like…..🧍eh. SQQ touches his hair and feels a bit sad,,cuz surely this new look of his isn’t too bad, no? but the system screen shines: +25 B-points!! Host successfully completed first task! Keep it up kya~~!
(ヾ; ̄▽ ̄)ヾ!! ~~
SQQ:…...
he’s confused now bc didn’t his shidi just run away from him?? how did he get the points?? system ah, pls explain the reasoning behind these seduction points! but system is a little shit and doesn’t answer so SQQ curses it until he’s tired and decides whatever, he’s got the points so 🤷
anyways the next task is: caress the arm,,,,which !! hello?? SQQ does not want to end up with a broken hand, thank you very much !! but this one is worth 30 B-Points after all… so maybe if he does it fast enough???
he takes his chance after leaving the weekly Sect meeting, catching up to walk alongside LQG, calling out to him softly: “Shidi~.”
LQG grunts and turns to look at him, eyebrows raised in question. SQQ smiles: “Will shidi indulge this shixiong and recount his encounter with the Blue-Tailed Dragonsprout?”
LQG hums and is quiet for a few seconds, before slowly retelling his fight with the dangerous beast. It’s nice, listening to the low cadence of LQG’s voice as they’re walking along the path. SQQ even almost forgets his intended task (almost!)
LQG is telling the bit where he hand chopped the head of the beast open (as expected of his strong shidi!!) when SQQ takes his chance and brushes his hand slightly against LQG’s. and really, it’s almost comical how quickly LQG stops speaking and stiffens up. SQQ sighs in his heart. ofc. really, he’s not terribly surprised. ofc his most loyal, masculine, and straight shidi would be uncomfortable!!
SQQ looks to LQG to..uh laugh it off?? calmly apologize for intruding onto personal space?? and then. he sees it. a flush on LQG’s cheeks similar to last time and,, his ears are a bit red too now that’s he looking closely.
hmm?
HMM??
SQQ pauses, and lifts his hand again, this time caressing LQG’s arm (hopefully very sensually but it’s not like he’s an expert ok!!) before hooking his arm with LQG’s.
“Shidi, won’t you continue the story?” SQQ purrs, and ok yk what. admittedly he’s a bit embarrassed to be purposefully acting like this, but LQG’s eyes widen and his face turns even more red, and oh.
Oh.
*(gru voice: lighht buulb)*
…well, isn’t this surprising?
And so it begins (again). But this time, there’s purpose. It’s not just abt the points after all,, esp when his shidi is giving these adorable and frankly tsundere reactions. it’s amusing to SQQ and like,, can u blame him for wanting to see more??
system: ………. (ヾ; ̄▽ ̄)ヾ!! ~~ Encouraging host!!
SQQ ties his inner robes loosely, so during meridian cleansing, his robes slip off just so, exposing his shoulder and part of his chest. there’s a choking sound behind him which causes SQQ to smile slyly, before calling out: “Ah, is shidi alright?” and ofc he gets no response, so he peeks back and ah, there it is!! LQG is not meeting his eyes and is instead focusing on circulating his qi but!, his face is bright red and SQQ….well he finds it absolutely delightful ;).
and so SQQ continues. on a mission together, he makes an excuse that he is “oh so dreadfully tired, won’t shidi let this one rest?” so he can take off his boots and free his aching feet, lifting his robes above his ankle while doing so. (there’s a loud bang behind him and he looks back to see LQG standing with his hands clenched next to a fallen tree w/ a very suspicious fist-shaped indent).
when they both attend a local festival, SQQ buys himself some tanghulu and he sucks it lightly before biting into it, savoring the sweet taste of the hardened sugar. he licks his lips before putting his mouth on the entirety of the snack again, and makes eye contact with LQG. LQG’s watching him intently, and oh? he’s not looking away? his shidi is getting rather bold hehe. so SQQ cheekily smiles , eyes curving up as he sucks the tanghulu once, then twice, before letting it bulge in his cheek. (gosh system wait tf am I doing?! he should feel embarrassed really!! ) but seeing LQG’s slack jaw and eyes glazed with…something, SQQ finds that he doesn’t rly mind.
and it goes on. SQQ accidentally trips and falls onto his shidi, pushing him down so he’s straddling him….
LQG cuts SQQ some fruit and SQQ uses his mouth to eat it directly from LQG’s fingers…
SQQ leans against LQG’s firm..and strong…and very wide chest after the meridian cleansing….
and now SQQ is watching LQG sleep (NOT creepily ok) , after insisting that they can share the bed in the hotel, cuz “no shidi i will not allow you to sleep on the floor!”
and SQQ isn’t entirely dumb ok, it’s not like he wasnt aware of what he was doing!! at first it rlly was to see LQG’s reactions!!
but SQQ’s come to realize that he…maybe kinda sorta likes it?? He likes LQG’s attention on him, he likes it when LQG looks at him with those eyes. Moreover, he likes LQG.
and he can kinda sorta bet that LQG likes him too?? //SQQ recalls the moment when he burst out laughing after seeing SQH trip and fall on his face (serves that hack author right!!) and then a screen pops up to the side: +35 B-Points!! Good job host kya~~!! ^^ and SQQ is like ?????
he looks next to him only to see LQG watching him w/ a gentle smile, his eyes almost,, fond?? (SQQ quite literally feels his heart beating faster and ah it’s almost winter, why is it so warm ??)//
SQQ blushes just thinking abt it, his Liu-shidi really is too OP!! he’s distracted so SQQ doesn’t see the once sleeping LQG open his eyes to blearily look at him.
“Shen Qingqiu.” the voice is still sleepy and the words are followed up with a small yawn.
“Sleep.” An arm comes to wrap around SQQ’s waist, to pull him closer and SQQ doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he nestles his head on LQG’s chest instead and thinks with resolution, “ah tmrw then” before falling asleep.
(SQQ confesses, and the bed is put to a much better use wink wink)
the end mwah
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simpingforbots · 3 days ago
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*hi-hi, can I request Alpha Trion and his ward (reader) who studied with him when he was a sparkling, now (reader) has grown up, and they saw each other again, (reader) had to change his character and color (I hope I put it correctly) in order not to be killed, (the reader) is incredibly glad to see his teacher again and cried and hugged to death
I am more then happy to do request from any one and the idea sounded so cute. i hope you will enjoy it dear friend.
Little sparkling - big cat
Another day in Iacon city filled with all buissy life – every one had somewhere to be, something to do. Even Primes. Being leaders of entire nation was not easy – they had to deal with laws, taxes, had to attend courts and just make sure every thing ran smooth.
Alpha Trion let out a grumble of exhaustion, tossing another tablet on to the table, next to the other neatly stacked pile of it. Laws. Why they had to be so difficult to deal with. Not a day passes by where there is a new document brought to him by Sentinel about some new law, some one misbehaving or reports about quintessons. He is tiered of this, but he has to keep on going. A sudden noise of small peds alerted him, moving a hand away from his aching head and turned to the side, to see a little sparkling happily run in to archives. Without a second of though, he smiled.
“Ah, I see it is another day for our  little adventure? – he chuckled softly, getting up from his chair.
This little sparkling was one if a few thing he was looking forward seeing. Every day this little sparkling would make it’s way here, away from their proto-hatcher, all way up here just to have a field day in archives. Trion still remembers the first day he saw them, seating by the shelf, wiggling their little peds as they scrolled though pad for sparkling’s, grinning widely. They did not even noticed him until it was to late, looking up with big orange optics filled with shock. After that he made sure that this little one was safe and would be happy every time this sparkling visited them, with permission of their proto-hatcher of course.
He chuckled softly as the little one giggled and hugged his ped, looking up at him with happiness, excited for another history lesson. Not wanting to disappoint them Alpha Trion lifted them up, comfortable settling them in his arms.
“Ready? What shell we learn about today?” he asked with smile, walking though countless shelf with sparkling looking around with wide eyes like of they were in a candy store “how about we learn something” Trion hummed as he scanned though pads “ah, there we go”
He pulled one pad out and turned it on, the bright light attracting sparkling’s opticks towards it, focusing on letters. He gently moved it closer to them, letting their little digits wrap around what must be huge pad for them and slowly read out what the pad said.
“M. Ma. Marti. Martial art. Martial arts!” proud of them self the sparkling looked up with smile, hugging the pad “what’s martial arts?”
“it’s art of fighting” little one let out a gasp of amusement, smiling even wider, earning a chuckle from Trion “I knew you would like something like this. You look like a fighting spirit.”
“Fighting spirit?” small one coked their head, confused “what is that?”
“it means you are strong” Trion explained, returning to the table, settling little one on table. “ so, do you want me to read or?
“I want to! I can do it “ the little one proudly proclaimed, making Trion’s spark flicker with warmth. It only been few cycle since they started reading by them self and they were very proud of this achievement. Though, even if Trion was embarrassed to admit it, he would miss reading for them. He leaned on table, supporting his head with his arm as he pationly listened to little one started reading the pad. Stumbling over some word, with which he helped. It was a very peaceful moment and he craved it very much. This little ball of joy brought peace to his turbulent life and he started thinking of something. What of he can train them? They look interested by the book about martial arts, so why not to teach them. Surely he will have to be a bit harsher, yet still, it be nice to have them by his side. After all he sort of though of them as his sparkling as well. And not that their proto-hatcher would mind it. They seemed quite happy to know that their little one was under his care. He watched them read with peace, time to time saying hi to his fellow primes, who would swoop in to place some more work pads on his table and coo over the little one. After some time the little one came upon images of different and did their best to copy the moves, making Trion certain of what he wanted to do. After that day he started taking little sparkling to training grounds, showing different moves, which they instantly copied. He was right, this little one has a good potential in them.
He watched them grow with every sickle and soon they were grown bot, getting more and more taller and wiser, almost growing taller then him, almost reaching Megatronus tall stature, which was a surprise for him. And they also grew closer to him. They were always by his side, keeping an eye from anything out of place, ready to though them self in front of any dagger, which Trion appreciated, but whished they would not.
“Say, little one” he spoke softly, looking up from another pad, staring at tall bot by his side, who stood motionless, keeping any eye on door frame “How is your proto-hatcher. Haven’t herd from them for a while.
“they are alright. Buissy a bit” ward replied, keeping straight face.
“hm.... my Primus this is boring” Trion stood up, immideatly getting his wards attention “how about a little break”
“sure” a soft familiar smile appeared on the stern face, knowing well what one of 13 Primes meant.
They followed Trion in to archive, where he picked up a pad about some legend, seating down on the floor, crossing his legs. They joined him as well, seating close by them and happily listened to them read, something that Trion insisted on. They set there for a while, getting a bit of rest from every thing.
----
Years, no, centuries pass by and little ward was tiered. They had to go in to hiding as false Prime rose to power, changing their colour and even body, all to avoid being hunted down by Arachnid. They knew something that Sentinel did not wanted to be a publick knowledge, and being Alpha Trions ward did not made it easier. They had to flee the Iacon, hiding above and scavenging for any energon they could find, time to time even raiding the trains for some just to make it thought. It was hard. The constant threat of Quintessons, constant bickering with once High guards made it hard for them. But after some years they grew close to this environment, knowing well what to and not to do in order to make another day. So it was shocking to see 4 cybertonians  out so openly. They rushed forward, helping them evade the scan’s of quintessons by hiding under old building, notisisng how small they were. It’s not normal for grown mechs to be this size? Until they saw their empty slots for t-cogs. It made them seethe with rage. Did Sentinel really was willing to step so low as to steal other’s T-cog just o make end with deal he made with Quintessons? They want to rip him apart. So they decided to join the stranded miners on their little adventure, hopping to at least see the grave of their Master one last time. They ventured though and found a cave, where was the last resting ground of Primes. It was a sombre sight. They all were left there, to rust away and be claimed by green, like some kind of criminals. Hell even criminals don’t deserve this. They simmered with anger until Orion called out and their turned to see what was the commotion.
Trion. Their spark still glowed with soft blue light and a sliver of hope rushed through their brain, as they rushed forward. Orion fed the rusted Trion an energon, and like a miracle, Alpha Trion rejuvenated. He stumbled a bit, saying something, ready to fight, only to be caught by someone before he could fall. It took some time to get used to his eyes again after what seemed like centuries of being offline, looking around. Bots. He can see bots, small for some reason. Where they still young? No, something was wrong. What happened to their chest, why they were empty. What is going on?
“Alpha Trion?”
Was that? He quickly looked around trying to spot a source of this familiar voice, looking around wide eyed. But there was no little one, instead there was a different bot – tall, dark plating, red eyes, they were nothing like the little sparkling he watch grow with bright paint and golden yellow eyes. He had to push him self up, but the bot refused to let him do it by him self, helping him up.
“are you alright? Oh primus what happened?”
After some second it clicked. He though his hand up, wrapping his hand aorund the brought shoulder of strange mech, staring at them with wide eyes. It could not be this. It is not right. The sparkling he grew was soft, had soft features, not sharp fingers, fangs and sharp edges. But the voice. The soft and worried eyes. It could not be.
“Little one”
Without even a second the tall mech wrapped them self around Trion, pulling him closer to them, letting out quite sobs and apologies, blaming them self for not able to keep them safe. Trion could not bring him self to blame them to begin with. It was never their fault, they did their best. He hugged them back, letting a heavy sigh. He will make sure Sentinel pays for all the pain he caused to his little sparkling. Even if they are no longer small.
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lesbojournals · 1 day ago
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Poly!Marauders x Reader (who just came home from a behavioral health unit)
a/n: hey guyss long time no see ! this is kinda just an angst/comfort piece that reflects what i went through a few months ago. i tried not to make it too specific as everyone's experience with behavioral health care is different! pls don't read if you think this topic might be triggering for you
Your slip on shoes squeaked against the hospital floor as the nurse guided you towards the lobby. She turned around to give you a reassuring smile, and you tried your best to give her a smile back. 
It had been 9 days since you had last seen your boys. 9 days since your parents took you to the Emergency Room to be admitted into the behavioral health unit. 
You held a lot of shame in your chest as you trailed behind the nurse. You didn't let your boyfriends visit you during your stay, not wanting them to see you in such a weak state. You had always been their strong girl. 
You sighed as the lobby came into view, tears pricking at your eyes. Your parents had said Remus would be there to pick you up. You glanced down at your form, stringless pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt that didn't quite suit you. Would he still like you, even like this?
You spotted his car pulled up by the door, and your nurse gave you a wide smile.
“You did it hun,” She opened her arms for a hug, which you gladly accepted. “Feel better.” 
You could feel your throat constricting as tears threatened to leave your eyes, so you gave her a quick nod and took your belongings from her. 
You spotted Remus immediately as you left the hospital doors, and in seconds he was out of the drivers seat and in front of you. You took a second to look up at him. His honey eyes were glossy, worried, and you felt guilt consume you for causing the bags that were currently living under his eyes.
“Can I…” he whispered. “Can I hug you?” 
You choked back a sob and nodded, and the second you were in his embrace you fell down to your knees. He followed you down to the ground, his grip tight on you as he rubbed your back gently.
“It's okay my sweet dove,” He reassured. “You're okay.”
It was a few minutes before he was able to guide you up and get you in the passenger seat of the car.
You held your face in your hands, breathing heavily. How embarrassing. 
Remus kept quiet as he drove slowly, letting the music play gently on the radio as to not overwhelm you. 
“James and Siri are at home waiting,” He all but whispered. “We didn't want to overwhelm you with all of us at once.”
You sniffled and nodded, keeping your hands securely covering your face as tears continued to flow down.
Time seemed to move slow and then rapidly all at the same time. You could've sworn you just got in the car, but here Remus was turning off the ignition for the car and resting a timid hand on your leg.
“We're home, love.”
You let your hands drop although you were still crying, and looked up at your shared home with your boyfriends. 
Would they forgive you for keeping your mental health a secret for so long?
You almost feared seeing Sirius, in fact, you feared seeing all of them together.
Your brain told you one thing and one thing only. 
They were breaking up with you.
Remus gave your leg a gentle squeeze. “Are you ready to go inside?”
You let out a choked laugh, mixed with salty tears and despair. “I suppose.”
Remus grabbed your belongings from your lap and you let yourself out of the car. 
You trudged up to the front door, Remus not even having to take out his key before James swung the door open as fast as he could. His gaze went quickly from Remus’ to yours, and his smile dropped. 
“Oh love,” He cooed at you, and you felt the waterworks burst again as you cried into James’ chest.
You don't remember being guided to the couch, but somehow you ended up there with James latched to your side. He brought your hand up to his chest to feel his heart beat. 
“It's alright,” He comforted. “You're home.”
Sirius was next to make an appearance. When you lock eye contact with him you feel your lip tremble more. He had to be mad at you.
But the expression on his face said otherwise. He looked the most exhausted of the three, his hair unkept and his outfit disheveled and wrinkly. He looked awful, and that was a lot considering Sirius was someone who regularly kept up on his appearance.
He opened his arms for a hug and you leaped from James’ side to be held in his embrace. He sounded on the verge of tears.
“Oh baby,” His voice barely let out. “I love you so much.”
This caused you to hug him tighter, cry harder, and nearly fall to the ground on your knees again.
“Hey, hey,” Sirius grabbed your face with his hands, eyes full of concern and glossy tears. “It's okay.”
“I thought-” You hiccuped through your wet sobs. “I thought you were going to break up with me.”
Shock fills Sirius’ expression and he lets go of your face to hug you tighter. 
“No, no, no baby,” You can tell he's crying a bit harder now. He nestles his head in the crook of your neck. “We love you so much.”
It was quiet for a while, the environment filled with your heavy breathing and sniffles. You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing–the way the nurses taught you how to in the hospital. In through your nose, out through your mouth. 
Steadily, you started to relax in Sirius’ arms, and his grip loosened around your waist. You looked up at him and made contact with his silver-colored eyes, and he let hair fall in front of his face as he leaned down to whisper.
“Are you okay?” 
You nodded feverishly, and Sirius hesitantly let go of you. You slumped back onto the couch, practically on top of James, which he gladly accepted. He put a protective arm around you and started to rub circles on your back.
Remus knelt down to your eye level, putting a comforting hand on your knee. “Do you want to change out of these hospital clothes, dovey?”
You pondered it for a moment, stuck between being comfortable next to James and wanting every last inch of your 9 day stay washed away. 
Remus patiently waited for your response, and you nodded. He stuck his hand out for you to grab and you did so, allowing him to pull you off of the couch. 
“I need a shower.” You begrudgingly told him, and he nodded in understanding. 
You trailed behind Remus, still holding his hand as he led you to the bathroom. You sat on the tile floor as he started the shower for you, holding his hand out under the water as he waited for it to be an adequate temperature. When it was ready, he silently helped you up to take off your clothes. 
It was in no mean a sexual act. He paid no attention as he helped you take off your shirt and pull down your pants. Your eyes filled with tears at the gentle love he so easily expressed for you. 
He didn’t push you, nor did he ignore the tears forming in your eyes. He knew what they meant. 
“Would you like me to shower with you?”
You shook your head no. You appreciated every last word, knowing it was fully his love and his heart ready to be there for you till the last second. 
“I need privacy.” You whispered to him, and he nodded his head, going to leave. 
“Wait-” You grabbed his hand, and he turned back to you. “Will you wait outside the bathroom till I’m done?”
He brought your hand to his lips, giving it a small kiss. “Of course.”
And with that you got into the shower. It was a luxury you hadn’t appreciated–showering without interruption, without eyes on you. It was a quick shower, but a perfect one. You came out of the bathroom in one of your large, fluffy towels–another luxury you didn’t really realize you had. 
Remus gave you a small smile when you opened the door. He waited, just as he said he would. 
He followed you as you walked to the bedroom, seeing a pair of James’ sweats and one of Sirius’ band shirts folded neatly on the bed. Your favorites of theirs to wear. Remus handed you a pair of fuzzy socks and you gladly got into them. 
When you got back into the living room you noticed your favorite candle was lit, and that Sirius and James were cuddling on the couch in one of your favorite blankets. 
James perked up at the sound of yours and Remus’ footsteps. 
“Darling,” He breathed out gratefully. “Come join us.”
You curled up on James’ other side, Remus coming over behind you to wrap his arms around you. You had your ear pressed to James’ chest, listening carefully to his heartbeat. You knew you had a rough road ahead with recovery, and your boys knew it too. But you had them there for you, and that just might be enough. 
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instaspacenoodles · 2 days ago
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Hello! I saw your asks were open and wanted to know if you'd be ok with this headcanons request: Wuthering Waves male characters finding out fem/Reader has a tacet mark in an embarrassing area (we have most characters with normal places like hand, neck, back, but what about when you can't show your tacet mark)? Have a great day!
✧₊⊹Finding Your Tacet Mark | Jiyan, Calcharo & Scar
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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 — Fem!Reader, Suggestive, Light kissing, light NSFW
✧ 𝐉𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐧
Jiyan had you pinned against the desk in his office. Even though this was far from professional, he just had to let himself indulge in a small bit of you. It was rare to see you dressed in such casual clothes outside of your Ranger Uniform and the sight of you in that short skirt made him feel like a starving man. He didn’t waste any time pulling you into his office the first chance he saw, unable to take the temptation anymore.
The soft blush on your cheeks only encouraged his exploration. His strong hands sliding up your stocking clad thighs, propping your legs higher so he can see you in all of your beauty. The motion pushed your skirt up to pool around your hips, giving him a damn good view. Oh, but the man wanted more… so much more of you that he was slowly going crazy. One of his fingers hooked into the thin fabric of your stocking to slowly pull them down. Jiyan was like a kid unwrapping a present on Christmas morning and you can clearly see the anticipation growing in his eyes. A wave of embarrassment washes over you as he revealed what you had been hiding from him all this time - your tacet mark placement. His brow quirks up, interest flashing in his eyes at finding the unique placement on your thigh of all places. No wonder you always made sure to keep it hidden with your uniform - he wouldn’t know how to focus if you were constantly exposing this area.
Rough fingertips brush over the darken star shaped marks on your skin, tracing the pattern slowly with a hum of approval. You advert your eyes from the sight, mumbling under your breath how embarrassing it was for the mark to appear on your inner thigh of all places. 
“Don’t be embarrassed, love.” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he leans down to press his lips against the source of your power. His golden eyes flickered up as a shutter rushed through your body, his ears being rewarded with the sounds of your soft moans. He couldn’t help but be a little smug at finding another sensitive spot on your gorgeous body.
“I’ll show you how beautiful your tacet mark is.” 
✧ 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐨
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall of the Ghost Hounds’ base as Calcharo chased after you. You couldn’t help but let out a mischievous giggle as your feet swiftly carried you around the corner. Excitement and anticipation coursed through your veins as the game of cat and mouse continued. It was only a matter of time before you were caught. 
The footsteps drew ever closer and you were running out of places to go. You turned left at another intersection. As you ran, you realized that this hallway was definitely the wrong choice to make your grand escape. You reached the dead end. It wasn’t before long a hand caught your arm and pulled you back with a gentle tug. Your body was pushed against the cool surface of the wall seconds later. You gaze up at Calcharo’s calculating stare with a semi innocent look on your face. 
“You have something that belongs to me, doll. Now, my shirt please?” The man raised an eyebrow, his tone leaving no room for argument. 
Though, even with his stoic nature, you could clearly see the amusement in his expression- essentially with the small quirk of his lips. He had definitely enjoyed this little trick of yours. You gave him your best pouty face as he tried to remove the shirt, lifting it over your head. Though his motion froze when his eyes caught a familiar star shaped marking on your hip. You looked down to where he was staring and- oh. The tacet mark. 
Heat of embarrassment flooded your veins as you tried to squirm away. Too bad Calcharo’s hold on your wrist was unrelenting. “Seems like you've been hiding something else from me.”
Your mouth opens as you try to come up with an excuse, anything to explain why you never showed him the placement of that mark. Yet only a squeak escaped when his cool fingers brushed against it without warning. Oh that shouldn’t have affected  you the way it did. Amusement had definitely bled more into his expression - that rare, goddamn smirk pulling at his lips. 
“That’s it, be a good girl and stay still for me.” Your knees got just a bit weaker from his voice, “Let me investigate this mark you tried to hide from me.” 
✧ 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫
A sigh leaves your lips as you open the door to the bathroom, steam pouring out as you walk. There was a towel wrapped around your damp body, hair still dripping from the water. You have moved over to your drawers when warm arms suddenly wrap around your middle. A chin found its place on your shoulder and you could feel the person’s soft hair brush against your ear. You jolted a little in surprise at the sudden gesture but you knew exactly whose arms they belong to. There was only one person that would invite themselves into your house with no warning.
Scar makes a delightful hum as he presses against you from behind, his hands wasting no time in exploring the natural curves of your body covered by the towel. The man was always the touchy type no matter who was around and where they were. He made sure to find any situation to make you flustered.
“My, what an interesting placement” His tone was a smug one, like he had just discovered a rare, hidden treasure. It took you a few moments to realize what exactly he was talking about before you clutch the towel tighter in embarrassment. Your tacet mark, resting right above your breasts, was currently out in all of its glory. He was never meant to see it - you had kept it dutifully hidden for a reason! Now, he was definitely going to abuse that knowledge. You sputter trying to get an explanation out, your hands pulling the towel up higher to cover the dark, star-shaped marks from his sight. A laugh rings in your ears as he turns you both to face the mirror next to the closet. You can spot his signature shit eating grin in the reflection as his hands reach up to replace yours with his own. The towel, your last line of defense, fell to the floor with a thud.
“Oh no, don’t even think about hiding it now, little sheep” He mutters in your reddened ears, “I’m definitely going to have fun with you~” 
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@zepskies
I've been waiting ALL week for this!
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Dean has a problem. Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 
It's not a problem Dean, (the gun is obviously BUT) she is beautiful and you will love her and I will cry at your wedding.
He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...
Dean no. No feeling bad for saving your girl and for killing the "sack of shit in human clothes."
Also I didn't notice the Colonel Sanderson thing before and now all I can think about is KFC lol.😂 Which is not to take away from how good this fic is or how well it's written. It's just me lol.
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Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him. Don’t go out there, her eyes say. Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below. 
Oh goodness she is already so protective of him and oh my word the wink had me melting lol.
I also don't think that I mentioned this before, but I really like how you wove in the other characters in the show. Seeing Benny and Cas show up just made me so happy.
Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do. He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.
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Oh my word seeing that fight in my head, um... YES PLEASE.
And the loyalty?! The love for their friend?! The "Goodbye brother."? It's so good.
“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand. “Kimmí.” “Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment. ���Mila,” she says with a nod. “Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”
She's squishing his face! That is so cute, oh my stars. Plus I am cackling at how long it took him to be able to say her name.
“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”
I absolutely love this! I really love it when writers pick the names of their characters based on the meaning behind it. And the fact that you gave the meaning of her name a backstory of her mom having a dream and the butterfly meaning that Mila "would have a free mind" is just so perfect for her. Because she is stubborn and she does have "a free mind" by being rebellious and strong, by being a strong female character who does not conform to the whims of what other people deem to be appropriate for her. Also it was funny that Dean thought she was like a "lioness."
"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”
This is a really wonderful line, that the war "never really ends." It really fits this story and honestly it really fits the entire early history of the United States when it was acquiring territory and embracing the "manifest destiny" ideals.
Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.
Okay, the whole part where she is explaining things about her life and her culture was so sweet. Them opening up with one another is just so soft and a little fluffy and I'm so glad that they got to have those gentle moments with one another. Not to mention this bit where Dean admits how much he likes listening to her, is just so good lol.
And I thought it was really on brand for him to be a little upset that she doesn't completely trust him yet, even though that he killed one of his men. But he's got to learn to be patient... and then propose. LOL.
At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.
I think my soul has left my body. This is so cute.
She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves. Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden. She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at. 
Don't be afraid to admit it Mila, we all know how good he is to look at. And why shouldn't you look at your future husband? 💍
A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.
Oh my sweet goodness, the TENSION!!
This is so good my friend and I am so excited for what the future of this series holds and am praying that it doesn't end in death!😬💗
The Honorable Choice - Part 2
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 
Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.
AN: “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…” ⬅️ If you’ve seen The King & I, then you’ll probably be singing that line in your head like I do.
Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU
Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack
Word Count: 3.1K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Dean, historical tidbits, fluff
🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!
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Part 2: Death & Sacrifice
Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and the hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.
“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.
The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.
Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.
Dean has a problem.
Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 
He just can’t do it.
His finger eases off the trigger of his gun, and he lowers it to the ground beside him.
“I told you,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Her head tilts as she stares at his gun, then at him. She relaxes somewhat, and she backs off of him, sliding from his lap down to the grass beside him. Her closed fist with the knife comes to rest at her side. She gives him a look of wary bewilderment.
“You are a strange man,” she says.
Dean has to laugh a little, smiling at her afterward.
“I guess so,” he replies.
Her brows furrow. “You killed one of your own…for me?”
He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...
And a sack of shit in human clothes.
Dean leans back on his hands in the grass and slides his legs out long. His stare falls to the earth between his boots. The ground is soft underneath him. Maybe it rained this morning. 
“Yeah, that’s gonna make it tough when I go back,” he says. “At best, that’s a court martial. At worst…”
The Lakota woman frowns, her dark brows nearly meeting in the middle as she considers him. He wonders what she sees when she looks at him.
“Tell you what,” Dean said. “Give yourself and your horse a rest tonight. I’ll go back and tell them I lost you in the canyon.”
Her eyes widen further in surprise. He can’t blame her for it. He’s surprising himself every time he opens his mouth.
“Will they kill you?” she asks.
Dean shrugs. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”
She levels him with a firmer look, one that demands the truth.
His nonchalance wanes, and he sighs.
“They might,” he says.
She shakes her head. She seems to deliberate over something, but eventually she comes to a decision. Just when she opens her mouth to speak, a gunshot rings out and hits the ground not far from their feet. A warning.
The sound of hooves thundering on the earth reach them before they look up. Two horses gallop towards them in the distance, their riders wearing blue uniforms.
They both tense up, but Dean is the first one to move. He grabs her arm and helps her stand along with him. They scramble back and lead the horses by their reins further into the trees. They find a denser patch and a raised hill to crouch down and hide behind.
The mustang is too tired to go very far, but Baby is already making anxious sounds, protective of her rider.
“Shhh,” Dean whispers, and runs a soothing hand over her side. He leads her to lay down with her legs tucked underneath her.
The Lakota manages to do the same with the mustang after whispering to him softly in her language. There’s a trust between them, Dean realizes. They have a connection that seems to mirror his own with his horse. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.
“Captain!” Benny calls out.
Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him.
Don’t go out there, her eyes say.
Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below. 
“Captain Winchester!” Cas calls next.
“We don’t want to have to come and get you, Dean. Come on,” Benny says. He does sound reluctant, for his part. His voice grows more somber when he says, “Colonel’s given us orders to bring you and the girl back…dead or alive.”
Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do.
He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.
Dean’s heaving for breath as well as he leans back against the side of the hill. Despite that momentary victory, he knows what they all know: that this fight isn’t going to end until either they’re dead, or he’s dead.
“Where’s the girl, Dean?” Benny says. He implores him to see sense. “We take her back with us, we can smooth all this over with the Colonel. All of it, even Roman.” 
Dean lets out a deep breath, but he shakes his head.
“Can’t do that, Benny,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
There’s a question circling in his friend’s eyes, but after a beat, Benny seems to know the answer to it. He picks up his gun from the ground. Just like Dean once did, the Lieutenant now has a choice to make.
He shares a heavy look with Cas. The two of them nod, before they focus back on Dean.
Benny’s hand falls, and he stows his gun.
“You died today,” Benny says. “We found your body somewhere in the canyon. Your horse too.”
Dean nods, with something of a smile. He supposes faking his death is the only option now. He rips the badge off his uniform jacket and tosses it to Benny.
“There’s your proof,” he says.
Dean shares a grim nod of respect with Cas while Benny examines the torn patch denoting a captain’s rank.
“Take care of each other,” Dean says.
Benny’s head raises, and he meets Dean with a somber gaze.
“Goodbye, brother.”
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Dean doesn’t return to her until the men are out of sight through the trees. She’s still hiding along with the resting horses, waiting for him. That alone surprises him. It would bring a small smile to his face, if the weight of that goodbye didn’t feel so heavy on his shoulders.
He reaches out a hand for her. It takes her a moment to consider it, but she accepts his offer.
He helps her to her feet, after which, she quickly pulls her hand back. She’s wary of his touch, her face guarded when she looks up at him. Dean supposes he can’t blame her, even if it does strike a nerve. After what he just did for her…
His face becomes stoic, and he turns away to grab his hat from the dusty ground. “We should probably head out.”
She nods and calls to her horse to encourage him to his feet. Despite himself, Dean can't help but be curious. How did this girl manage to tame that wild beast?
“Does he have a name?” he asks.
“Mato,” she replies.
“Mato,” Dean echoes. “Does that mean something? You know, in your language.”
She eyes him wryly, brushing her hand over Mato’s hide.
“It means angry, like a bear,” she says.
Dean snorts. “Yeah, good name.”
He remembers his bruised side (and ego) from when the mustang threw him off his back.
Dean watches her with another realization as she gracefully mounts the horse. Baby has gotten up to her feet as well, already nudging the back of his arm with her snout. He rubs her nose in affection.
Then he turns to climb up onto her back, settling his feet into the stirrups and loosely grabbing the reins. He follows his companion’s lead farther into the forest, but he guides his horse to fall into step beside hers.
“Will you tell me your name now?” he asks. “Think we’ve been through enough together at this point, don’t you think?”
She considers it with a tilt of her head. She looks over at him with a small smile.
“Kimmímila,” she says. The syllables roll off her tongue effortlessly.
Dean raises his brows. “Kim…Kimmeela.”
She shakes her head at him, her lips pursing.
“Kimmímila.”
Lord help him, but he tries his best. His brows furrow.
“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand.
“Kimmí.”
“Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment.
“Mila,” she says with a nod.
“Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”
He’s treated to her smile, warm and true. She releases him, her gaze flitting over his face. Then she keeps riding. Dean grins to himself.
“Think I’m gonna call you Mila,” he says. Make it easier on myself.
She even laughs, a honeyed sound. “Yes, my father does too.”
“What does it mean? Your name.”
“In your language?” she says, in a tone that teases him back. She becomes thoughtful as she searches for the word. “It means…butterfly.”
“Really?” Dean remarks. She doesn’t strike him as a butterfly.
More like a lioness, he thinks, only somewhat holding back his grin.
She gives him some side-eye, despite her amusement.
“You think it does not suit me,” she observes.
“Well, I didn't say that—”
“I don’t think so either,” she admits. “There are many things that don’t suit me.”
Dean chuckles. He can imagine that.
“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”
Dean offers her a rueful, sympathetic look. “Yeah, I get it. My brother always said I was damn hardheaded,” he says. “…Maybe we’ve got more in common than we thought, huh?”
Mila’s smile returns, however slightly.
“You have a brother?” she asks.
“Oh, yeah. He’s a lawyer, so he’s more needed back home,” Dean replies.
Damn. He really does miss his bookish little brother.
He explains to her about his family, his brother and mother who still live in Lawrence, and how he joined the army, in part to honor his father.
“What happened to him?” she asks.
“He died…in some cornfield near Sharpsburg, Maryland, fighting the Confederacy,” he replies, heaving a breath.
"Con...federacy?" she questions.
"The South," Dean explains. "See, most of our southern states thought they should be their own country, letting slaves plow their fields and mind their kids. I may have lived on a farm, but my father always paid his workers. He fought for the Union."
"So you fought among yourselves, over land that did not belong to you," Mila points out.
Dean falls silent. After a little while, he concedes her point with an incline of his head.
"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. ���I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”
Her expression of curiosity fades, turning more solemn.
“No,” she agrees. “…I am sorry for your father.”
Dean's a little surprised to hear that from her, but he nods his thanks. They continue to talk as the sun begins to set in the west. When it dips behind the canyon, they stop to make camp for the night, and he helps her catch a rabbit to roast on the fire they build together.
That night over the meal, she slowly opens up to him. He learns that she’s an only child, though she has a sibling-like bond with her older cousin, Šóta. She spends most of her days planting or harvesting their crops, depending on the season, as well as sewing, painting, helping the elders of her tribe with tasks, and helping her mother and aunt cook.
When the rabbit is gone, she unbinds her long, thick hair and untangles it while she speaks. She explains that the Lakota are just one of many tribes. There are six other bands of Sioux who live in this region. Along with the Dakota and the Nakota, they are the “Seven Council Fires” who have made the Great Plains their home for generations.
She tells him about the way her tribe lives, caring for one another, giving the land back as much as they take, and letting it rest. The men hunt and protect the village from the outside, but the women protect the inside, their way of life.
Most of all, Mila tells him, she loves caring for the horses. She goes out and rides whenever she can duck out of her mother’s watchful eye.
Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.
She still picks a spot as far away from him as she can to sleep though. She keeps the fire pit in between them. He even catches sight of her knife, hidden in the hand she tucks underneath her cheek. Evidently, she doesn’t fully trust him just yet.
It annoys him at first, considering how many times he’s saved her already. How much he’s sacrificed just to get them this far…
Until he remembers how they met. He remembers the disdain and anger in her brown eyes, then the mistrust, and the fear hidden underneath. He thinks of every experience she’s likely had so far with the U.S. Military, and anyone else who looks like him.
Dean settles down on the ground and stares up at the innumerable stars in a raven sky. He’s exhausted, but his thoughts don’t let him rest for a while. 
At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.
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In the morning, Mila watches the strange man wake.
He blinks and rubs his bleary eyes, yawning, groaning at the sun’s brightness like a child. She hides her smile by bowing her head over the apple she’s cutting with her knife. The orchards span wide across the forest, and soon he’ll find two yellow-red apples beside his head.
His brows raise at them, then he looks up at Mila sitting with her legs crossed behind the small fire pit. The wood there is just ash and blackened remains now, but it still carries the smell of burning.
“Morning,” he greets.
She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves.
Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden.
She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at. 
Last night, she declined his offer to travel with her until she reaches her tribe safely, but he was insistent. Again, strange.
So here she is, with him. Here they are. 
Dean turns to see the horses grazing nearby. Mato no longer has the saddle and bridle his men put on him. He looks rested and at ease. He even whinnies at Baby, tossing his head a little. She answers him and flicks her tail. They continue eating together.
Dean smiles, then grabs an apple. He raises it to her in thanks before he takes a large bite. Its juices run down the corner of his mouth, and he wipes at it with the back of his hand. Mila can’t help but be drawn to the sight.
She tears her eyes away when he looks over at her.
“We have a long way to go. Three days, if the weather is good,” she says, continuing to carve pieces of her apple to eat. “We will know we are close when we reach the river.”
Dean nods in understanding. With a grunt, he gets to his feet and takes another bite out of his breakfast. She doesn’t expect the way he approaches her with a hand outstretched. She looks up at it, then at his expectant face.
“Come on. Let’s hit the road then,” he says.
Mila considers his offer for another moment. He seems to be making this a habit. Amused, she wonders if this is just kindness, or if the women of his people aren’t allowed to stand without a man’s help.
She pockets her knife, swipes her braided hair over her shoulder, and slips her hand into his, allowing him to help her to her feet. When she gets there, he’s closer than he should be.
A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.
And at the same time, she does.
She takes back her hand, and she goes to the horses. She firmly ignores how her heart gallops, even as she rubs at her chest like it’s an ache that can be soothed.
She doesn’t hear Dean’s unsteady breath, nor does she see the way his green eyes follow her.
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AN: *rubs hands together* Well, here they are! It's all starting to come together. What did you think of Dean's decision?
Coming up next, we have the final part: some action, some fluff, and some potentially perilous situations for Mila and Dean...
Next Time:
“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”
Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.
“I will protect you,” she says.
Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.
She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.
“Mila…”
“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”
Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.
COMING 11/17! (New chapters every Sunday.)
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evadnesworld · 2 days ago
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zaynes winter worrying
c/w: zayne is never beating those husband allegations, everything's lowercase, not beta read, just cute winter activities, up to you whether this is mc , other fics stem from this one so kinda pl
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the suns soft rays which basked linkon city had slowly drifted away as night approached, the streets now lit by the various street lamps adorning the city. the once warm and cozy air had been overtaken by the cold winter air which made way for only one thing- a worried zayne. it wasnt surprising, honestly, for him to worry about you. whether it be cooking for you, making sure youre healthy, and just spending time for you- he craved you, bestowing the duty of making sure you were well upon him.
so it wasnt surprising when he didnt let you go out without a scarf or proper winter clothes, especially not with just how snowy it was. not only that, but you had just defeated the "evil bacteria" that decided to inflict you with a sickness since they had "nothing better to do with their grimy lives."
"zayne, dont worry im fine! a little cold never killed anybody. im strong i can fight it!" you declared, your chin tilting upwards as an attempt to emphasize your "strength" against any potential sicknesses coming your way.
he sighed as he grabbed the scarf which laid lazily on your bed. the same scarf he bought you a while back after your eyes lingered on it for a second too long, in his defense, he said it wasnt an unnecessary expense as you declared it was, because it was you who he was buying it for. and whatever was done for you, was not something done in vain.
in a few mere strides he made his way over to you. one of the various perks of being tall. fiddling with the scarf, he opened his mouth, his glasses sitting delicately on the bridge of his nose.
"i know just how strong you are, but id rather not let even the faintest chance of you getting sick exist pass me by. and although being by your side does sound very enjoyable," his voice low and tender- reminding you of the sheer adoration he has for you, as he wrapped your scarf around you, making sure not a single cold gust of wind could get to you.
"id rather be by your side when you are not in constant pain as i nurse you back to health." he leaned in, barely hovering over your ear, he softly whispered, his breath tickling your ear. your face quickly became red with embarrassment- he knew what effect he had on you, and hed be damned if he didnt use that to fluster you.
he tucked your hair behind your ear before giving you a peck on the cheek. his gaze softening- if you werent as well versed in the art of zayne expression, youd probably miss the look he had on his face. the look of pure, unadulterated pining. he looked at you as though you were the only one he needed- as though you were his water. you were his needs and his wants.
his black hair was illuminated by your apartments lights. it was here where his smile was made more apparent. committing your face lips to his memory, your eyes, and your everything- he took your hand into his, another peck on your lips.
"let us go now, before the cafe you wanted to visit closes." you smiled, he would truly be the death of you- or rather, youd be the death of him, because you both knew, that if it ever came to it, hed give you the stars and the sky, the earth and everything in between.
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divider from @/anitalenia 
havent written in two years, how could i improve this story? i hope he wasnt too out of character.
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urinarythreatinfection · 3 days ago
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Aight bet-
Can i get Shanks paired with a female reader (romatically) who is also missing an arm and/or has red hair.
Thank you v.v
Not my bestest work but I thought it was funny and warm.
Narcissistic Romance
Shanks x Fem!Reader. Reader has red hair and missing arm. Miku is Miku even if she looks different so skin color or hair texture can be anything else. Small angst(?) but mostly fluff. Drabble + Headcanons
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“I get we have the same hair and stump but did you really need to go this far? You even drew the scar on me.” You touch your eye where some friends had drawn Shanks’s signature scar on.
“This fits so well! You might as well be his female form.” You’re all near a bar, one of your friends got the idea to dress you up as Red Haired Shanks after getting drunk. “Strike a pose or somethin-” They’re interrupted when yelling is heard.
“C-CAPTAIN!?” You hear from behind you, turning to see a group of men staring at you.
‘Captain?’ You think to yourself, confused before it clicks. These must be Red Hair Pirates, but how? This is a crazy coincidence that they’re here right as you’re dressed up. Your mind runs at a million miles a second and you clamp a hand over your friend’s mouth before they speak. “Well, I got caught by a devil fruit. Changed my looks a bit but I look good as a woman too, right?” You smirk, going along with it. Unfortunately, your cover is blown almost immediately when a head peeks over your shoulder to look at you.
“Hmm. I do look good as a woman, don’t I?” It’s Red Haired Shanks, another coincidence and you jolt with a yelp. “Freaking out, Miss Red Hair? Not very Emperor-like.” He teases with a grin. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to go with the joke considering how quickly you got caught, and by the man himself. “What’s my female doppelganger doing here?” He looks at your friends with a wink, this is so embarrassing. “Popular as a woman too?”
That was how the two of you met, a funny cosplay of a funny guy.
You were scared at first you were going to get in trouble for impersonating him, even if it was a joke and you were caught immediately.
Shanks isn’t a sore sport though and he actually found it really funny.
He had stayed at the island and you were good company, proving to be a good fighter as well.
He couldn’t just leave an attractive and strong woman alone, right?
You ended up joining his crew along with a few of your other friends that could fight and wanted to go, the rest you all sending letters to any others often.
The official number of redheads in the Red Hair Pirates is now two.
The two of you two hit it off, cracking similar arm jokes and having fun together, it was perfect.
It really wasn’t long until you both ended up dating, then came new jokes.
“Narcissist.” That’s what people like to tease you both about.
Dating a person that can look like a genderbent version of you with the right clothes and makeup is definitely narcissistic.
Of course, you both take it with pride.
Shanks even likes to show you off, calling himself the luckiest man ever to find the most beautiful woman ever to play into the narcissist joke.
Something on a more personal level is that the two of you can relate to missing an arm, helping each other with phantom pain and insecurities.
After all, when the person you love has the same imperfection as you it’s hard to be insecure about it.
You’re perfect to him and him to you, despite your disabilities.
It’s nice to have someone that understands, that knows how hard it is to deal with losing a limb.
When you’re feeling insecure sometimes Shanks puts his stump on yours, smiling and calling you both “stump buddies” before kissing you.
If the weather is bad and you’re both struggling with pains you can hold each other, finding comfort in the warmth of your lover.
Shanks holds you tight, even if he’s clenching his jaw, always trying to put your pain above his no matter how much you try and tell him he matters too.
It makes you feel insecure, he should have a partner that would be able to help him without struggling themselves, but to him you’re everything.
He’d rather hold you while shaking from pain himself than be comforted by anyone else.
These bad moments with you are more precious to him than the best with anyone else.
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theflagscene · 2 years ago
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Ugh, I hate it, it’s so cringe 😬😬😬😬
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cress-meadowforge · 22 hours ago
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Cress felt insane. Maddened wasn't a strong enough word for this sensation. Not when he moved like this, moaned like this, reddened with embarrassment. Cress had to pause, drawing in a steadying breath to keep from caving entirely. If she wasn't careful, she'd throw this away just to sink onto him now, to satiate herself in the immediate. "Everything I want is within reach." A reminder, an honest admission. Cress' fingers wove deeper, catching his underwear too, and she dragged both articles down and away, until there was only him, and him, and him lying bare beneath. "Do you have any idea the kind of restraint I'm exhibiting?" But she could see his desire clearly. His muscles strained amidst labored breathing, and Cress knew he was nearing his limit, arousal tinged with frustration and desperation from all her teasing and no release.
"I want you on the bed," she directed, more than willing to guide him. Eager to, really. Cress dismounted, gesturing with her chin toward the mattress. "Hands and knees. Go wait for me." She didn't linger to see if he'd obey. For once, that wasn't a worry. Cress stood, removing her blouse, tugging the zipper of her torn skirt down until it jammed, then shimmying out the rest of the way. From her bedside table, she retrieved her desired items, setting them out neatly: a salve jar of lubricant and a plug, on the smaller side of her menagerie. Then, she sank down onto the bed, one knee first, the second closely following. "Come here. Kiss me."
When his chest was revealed, the cool air of the room hitting his skin followed by Cress's gentle touch, a shiver ran through him -- a skin-level shiver, one that was felt across his body. Pleasure ached and he wanted to beg her to take off his pants first, hell, to cut him out of them if need be -- but the anticipation, the slight fear, of what was going to happen kept him grounded in the moment, allowing it to move at whatever speed she would have it.
He took the praise, staring at her with pupils blown wide, want in his expression, his mouth, his tongue, his lips, on which he still tasted her. As she touched his stomach, his cock responded, and when she hooked her finger into his waistband, his hips bucked up -- a moan loosening itself from his lips, unbidden but unbound. His cheeks flushed deeper, self-consciousness finding him, the sound to his own ears needy and desperate.
When he'd put the uniform on that morning, he'd felt strange about it. It had sat wrong on his skin; he didn't know if he deserved this, nor did he know if he wanted it. To have this role was to be part of the killing; to show the hands how to act was to allow them to do so in the Arena. Over the course of the day, it had grown more worn on his skin. Sweaty, moveable. The fabric bent with him. It was something that he found he donned more comfortable than he'd expected.
And now, as she pulled it off of him, as she took time and care with it, Slate knew that she didn't only mean that he had earned this uniform, but he'd earned her care. Her touch. "You can still have it," he breathed. "What's mine is yours." He was unable to gather his thoughts into anything more than that -- an oversimplified version of the truth. "I'm yours."
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rockshortage · 10 months ago
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2 charisma 3 strength
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kaleuh · 2 years ago
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I had a really really good time at the mario movie, it was a super fun watch and chris pratt's voice acting was honestly fine. like, it wasn't MARIO, but it wasn't terrible at the very least. you know what the ACTUAL problem with the mario movie was? the embarrassing girlbossification of Peach and how the film industry still cannot understand the concept of what a strong female character actually means LOL
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im-sorry-what-ii · 7 months ago
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fighting my way through 911 2x01 rn and its pure pain
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tearfest · 1 day ago
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ㅤㅤmaritza was unquestionably smitten. to have been rescued by her hero was thrilling enough, but for him to be right here in her home was another thing entirely. her father would surely disapprove of the way in which captain vought's presence made her feel, having shoved catholic values of virtue down her throat since her youth. and whilst this wouldn't be maritza's first time straying from the path of righteousness, she already knew that this would be her most memorable. she'd had a few boyfriends very few knew about; but she'd never been with a real man. a real life superhero... a man that was both strong and gentle all the same. a dream come true, a fantasy brought to life. couldn't recall a time she'd ever been so infatuated, the tension between them growing palpable as the pad of his thumb dragged along her lower lip; fingers against his chest only curling in response as she nodded in agreement. such a bright girl, rendered so speechless by the presence of a man that was living proof of an existence that tore through her skepticism. and, for once, she was happy to be proven wrong.
ㅤㅤ" i'll try, but i was so scared. it felt like i was surrounded, there were so many of them... and then you took care of them all, without so much as a scratch. " voice had been worrisome before she mentioned him, admiration now honeying her words as cheeks grew warm under his palm. her smile was pretty much permanent as she blinks up at him, basking in the sound of her name on his tongue. she was caught off-guard by the mention of her father, though; knowing that he worked for some new sector of the government, but his secrecy meant that she didn't know which. she didn't dwell too much, though. more heat surged in her soft cheeks under his palm at his compliment, dimples forming as her smile grew; cheek pressing further into his palm. " oh, you flatter me, captain vought. i'm surprised my father even mentioned me. " but she didn't care about her father, not right now. all she cared about was the man that'd been there to save her life, not the man that she hardly ever saw. the night was barely over, and yet she already felt saddened that it eventually would be.
ㅤㅤcheeks burnt red with embarrassment, almost feeling as though she was being scolded when he explained that telling her his name would result in her death. she wasn't scared, even though she knew he was capable of so much violence; having seen it with her own two eyes that night. but she felt safe with him, as if she thought that he would always do good by her after saving her life. hands fell to rest awkwardly down by her side, fingers toying with the excess fabric of her skirt; cardigan-covered cleavage heaving with each heavy breath as she watched on with awe and admiration as he took the mask off, heart only racing faster. " you're so handsome, mister— i mean, captain vought. " couldn't help but to feel special, privileged even, to get to see the man behind the mask; and she couldn't keep her hands to herself, with one coming to rest back against his chest, whilst the other lifts to push his soft, floppy hair out from his face. even his hair was perfectly soft between her fingers. was there anything about him that wasn't perfect? she gazed, and she fawned, and she adored him; fingertips gently smoothing out along the lines left behind by his helmet. " well, now i feel like i owe you twice the thanks, for saving my life and for showing me your face. captain vought, " she couldn't stop touching... didn't want to waste a second more of their time together with her hands down by her side. " what about the rest of the suit? is that allowed to come off, too? "
her home seems designed for more than just her,  yet really it seems like she’s the only one living here. he hadn’t seen a ring on her finger,  a good sign,  not that it would’ve stopped him really. the logical conclusion,  an absent father. something of which has experience with,  mentally absent and physically absent.  he’s suffered through both,  though the physically absent had been his doing and for a second there it had looked like he would’ve had to run back to him for help had things not played out the way they had. surprisingly,  when that time had come he hadn’t returned back to him.  instead, like the universe was not working against him for once, another man had stepped up.  a man he owes his extended life to.  leon holds his curious tongue though,  he didn’t come here to discuss her living or family situation.
nor does he want to ruin this moment,  because frankly he doesn’t want to talk about his own situation despite how monumentally better it is from just a simple decade prior.  he had been dying,  but now he was the picture-perfect form of his species and of humans.  however, there’s not making up with his late father,   no closure for himself.  that trauma will stay with him for the rest of his life,  unsure of really how to recover from it  ⸻  almost worse than the nature of war,  almost worse than serving in europe,  almost.  she gazes at him as if he’d put the sun in the sky and he doesn’t want that gaze to turn sour.  plus its really none of his business so he’ll bask in this instead.    “shhhh...” he replies, letting his thumb brush over her lips,  “you don’t need to think about that…  about what would’ve happened,  focus on what did happen.”  on what was happening now,   something he had told himself during much of the war,  focus on what you can control.
her lips part and thumb moves graciously back to her cheek.  the pattering of her rapid heart-beat is something he can’t ignore.  it’s a familiar beating he hears, one of the things he’s still learning to tune out from his enhanced hearing.  but it fills him with a sense of pride,  because he’s the one increased her heart-rate,  making her blood warmer underneath the skin.   “maritza,”  he echoes back,  “maritza guerrero.”  pause,  “guerrero,  I know that name.  oh.  so you’re that maritza.  heard about you from your old man.”  so that’s whose house he was currently standing in.  makes sense,  only one run-in with her father but the names are hard to forget.  “he didn’t mention what a beautiful young woman you are.”  lips purse,   “captain vought,” he answered plainly,  “I would offer my name miss but then I’d have to kill you.”  only one person besides himself knew his real name,  and now it’s something vought needs to keep hush-hush, as much as he wanted to tell her his real name.  to take his mask off,  was not out of the question though.  his helmeted head cocked, feeling a warm pleasant buzz at the sound of her finger outlining the bottom rim of his helmet.  reluctantly he pulls his hand away from her face,  his other one also rising to take hold of either side of his helmet and pulling it off.  his body stayed inches from hers. his helmet hair that has grown out a bit flops out.
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ttsukiimi · 6 months ago
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───〃★ C’MERE, BRING THAT D⍣CK HERE .ᐟ
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〃★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ You’ve been a good wife—you really have! But when your husband’s boss confronts you about him cheating with his secretary, you just can’t help but take up his offer to get back at him.
〃★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ nanami x fem!reader, gojo x fem!reader, Sukuna x fem!reader, geto x fem!reader, cheating (not reader), smut (mdni), exhibitionism (sukuna, gojo), slight n⍣pple play, slight cl⍣t play, slight creamp⍣e (geto), full Nelson (gojo), office s⍣x.
〃★ 𝐚/𝐧 ⎯ I was gonna add toji but realized his broke assss not the boss of anyone🤧
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────〃ଘ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 - NICE ‘N SLOW
The wooden legs of his desk scrapped against the floor with every deep thrust, important paperwork scattered all over from how much he had you squirming from his slow, calculated movements. Your nails dug into the wood, scratching and latching onto the edge as your back arched, a cry of pleasure bubbling from your throat.
Was this wrong somehow? No. Your cheating scum of a husband should receive the treatment he’s given you. And you almost wished he’d walk in on the sight of his boss balls deep in his wife. Well, ex-wife, anyway.
Nanami leaned in to your ear and you shivered, feeling his breath fan past your neck, smelling his cologne and—fuck, you could feel his muscles through this suit against your back. “Hope you’ve finally found your worth. He never deserved you.”
His words entered one ear and came out the other with how hazy he had you feeling, cock penetrating you over and over in a cycle that had you feeling delirious. Your head spun, and the world seemed to blur from existence—except for Nanami; his hands, his words, his voice.
“I’ll make you feel better—cum better than he ever has.”
────〃ଘ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 - I’LL DO IT INSTEAD
Now, Satoru had always had his eyes on you. From the very first moment you came into the office, bringing your husband his forgotten lunch, he knew he had to have you. The whole interaction left him feeling bitter anyway—he only waved you off after he grabbed his lunch and refused to kiss you in front of his colleagues.
What kind of man was he?
Satoru had no problem fucking you in front of him, though.
You watched your husband’s wide eyes, embarrassed but basking in your sweet revenge. A smirk graced Satoru’s lips, his own focused on your husband’s flickering gaze from how he split your cunt open so lewdly to your bouncing tits as if in a trance.
“‘S how’s it feel? Watching your pretty little wife get ruined?” He breathed, strong arms folding you further into the full Nelson position he had you locked in. “You turned on, hm? Seein’ her lil’ cunt get fucked?”
Your eyes closed and your tongue lolled out, head thrown back onto Satoru’s shoulder as your hand came down to pinch your pulsing clit in circles.
Satoru peppered kisses upon your jawline and stopped by your ear. “Why don’t you tell him how good ‘m making you feel?”
────〃ଘ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 - DO IT BETTER!
You’d always had your eye out for your husband’s particularly hot and intimidating boss, though you’d always stray your gaze away from him out of respect and loyalty. Respect and loyalty that your husband never seemed to reciprocate.
And when his boss finally confirmed that he was cheating on you—you’d finally given into your fantasy of fucking him.
But this isn’t how you imagined your fantasy would go.
Everyone’s eyes were glued to you, either out of fear of what Sukuna would do or out of pure infatuation from how wet your cunt was. You sat on Sukuna’s lap, legs spread open for anyone and everyone to see—even your spouse whose face was a mix of anger and confusion.
He didn’t have the right to be mad right now.
You were almost about to curse him out when Sukuna slid in with one swift thrust. Your breath caught in your throat, tears already welling in your eyes as he began to move without giving you even a second to adjust to his abnormal size.
He bounced you on his lap, heavy balls smacking against your ass so loudly it resonated throughout the meeting room. His big hands groped your chest though your blouse, practically ripping it off you.
“I’ll show you fuckers how to properly fuck a pretty lil’ thing like her.”
────〃ଘ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 - LIKE YOU DESERVE
Heat creeped up into your face. You hadn’t expected your day to amount to anything—considering your husband’s boss had told you about his affair just a day before—but there you were, sat on the same man’s lap as he fucked up into your cunt.
I’ll fuck you like you deserve. Those were his words—the words that got you here in the first place.
Suguru’s fingers toyed with the hood of your clit, pinching the nub of nerves in such a gentle yet pleasurable way that had shocks of electricity rocking through you. Your legs shook and quivered with how wide he had you spread them, muscles beginning to feel sore after some amount of time.
But Suguru hadn’t had his fill yet, he had to show you—make you feel what your husband couldn’t do to your body. So, with his cock still pumping in and out of you recklessly, two fingers entered your mouth while his unoccupied hand pinched and twisted your hardened nipples.
“Suck,” he ordered, and you did. It was almost embarrassing how fast you complied, wrapping your tongue around his thick digits as you suckled on them, excess saliva dribbling down your chin.
And it was all so lewd. The ring of cum coating his cock from both your multiple orgasms, your red and pulsing clit, your moans—and shit. If Suguru knew one thing it was one thing only; he would keep his promise and fuck you like you deserve.
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