#this would be a very auspicious day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yandere-sins · 5 months ago

Note

Just saw your greek god works and they're top notch! Could you do something with yan Apollo? There's just soooo much stuff to work with with him... Thanks!

Thank you for requesting!! I love writing about them ^-^

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Very little could speak more about your skills than a personal invite to present them at Olympus.

The morning Apollo arrived in his golden chariot was an exceptionally bright one. Naturally, because his body emanated the rays of sun that broke through your window, his radiant smile widening on his youthful face the second you stepped out of your hut. Your mother was crying—tears of joy as you realized when she hugged you tightly, telling you how proud she was. Even your father seemed choked up when he told you you were special.

So, as you finally stood before the handsome stranger, the god whose shrine you visited regularly, you were utterly speechless, overcome with emotions you couldn't place. You could only listen as he spoke to you, his voice silken like the soft breeze on a summer's day yet as cheerful as the anticipation for an exciting festival.

"I want you to play," he made his intentions known, his hand falling to the side of your head, letting a lock of hair glide through the gaps in his fingers. His touch was warm and gentle, beyond anything you expected an immortal to feel like. "For us, for me."

"It would be an honor," you honestly muttered back after your mother urged you with a slight push, reminding you not to be rude to the god who was blessing you with such good fortune. Most people were honored in war, because of their devotion to their deity, in the pursuit of knowledge, or in death. To be chosen solely for your lyre play was rare, and you felt overwhelmed with gratitude, tears filling your eyes.

Apollo smiled, promising to come back in a mere three days time. Not enough to memorize all the songs you wanted to play, but while your parents packed you a small bag with the essentials and exempted you from your duties on their farm while making sure you were fed and clean, you kept practicing your craft until your fingers were raw and bloody. Apollo had assured you that there was no perfection in music. Still, you wouldn't have been able to endure the shame of hitting the wrong note to a song everyone knew—even the gods. And so you practiced, day and night, until finally, it was time to leave.

That morning was colder yet auspicious. So many burdens weighed on your shoulders—your performance, bringing honor to your family and yourself, the payment you heard your parents whisper about. There had always been food on the table for your big family, but you noticed their excitement when they talked about the boon that the gods would give you for performing well. You gulped nervously as you fiddled with the newly strung lyre in your hand when, with loud neighs and the warmth of a sunny day washing over you, Apollo arrived. When he smiled at you, you couldn't help but grin back, excited for this day, his brilliant mood instantly captivating yours.

You bid your parents farewell as they wished you a good performance and safe travels. They waved after you as the heavenly chariot took off into the morning sky, announcing another beautiful day. You got to stand close to the sun god as he performed his duty, chatting carefreely about how excited he was to hear you play and how everyone was expecting you eagerly. It made you nervous, but being close to him, his arm around you to keep you secured, Apollo's presence made your worries simply melt away. You could have never seen yourself as his equal, but he didn't make you feel any less than a friend.

He took his time cruising you through the sky, showed you the magnificent temples of the gods, let you taste the richest grapes the land had to offer, and took you to places that most humans wouldn't see in the span of multiple lifetimes. Always with a hand outstretched to help you step down from or into his chariot, and watchful eyes looking out for you. You learned a lot that day, the excursion long but magical, especially with a god by your side as your guide. To him, it must have been boring stuff that he saw every day, but to you, it became the most incredible day of your life very quickly.

Until you were brought before the entrance to the Olymp, that is.

Chariot parked, you could still feel Apollo standing behind you, protectively but encouragingly. His frame towered massively next to you, cutting you off from the human world behind his radiant form. The sun was setting, leaving you with a chill. But perhaps you were only imagining it, your performance anxiety rising. His warm hand gently pressed into the small of your back, urging you with determination to step ahead and face the rest of the pantheon of gods that had collected, to play them the songs you had come for.

With weak knees, you took one step in front of the other, Apollo always by your side. He ensured you wouldn't falter as all eyes in the grand hall seemed to turn towards you the moment you stepped through the entrance. There were all kinds of eyes—wise and godly and mythical. But you were more surprised by the human ones, tired ones, downright exhausted ones that raised to watch you. Their presence felt out of place, but then again, so did yours. However, there was something deeply unsettling in the dullness of their eyes, the sloppy movements as they walked around the hall, seemingly without vigor, their stares the only reaction to your arrival contrasting starkly with the boisterous and booming voices of the immortals greeting you.

"Apollo, is this your new charge?" a faun asked, curiously eyeing you and your lyre. "Your new songbird, eh?"

Apollo laughed, waving off the comments from all sides as he moved you forward, guiding you through gods and servants alike, their hands reaching out, touching you, admiring you. You couldn't help but startle at the different sensations of these touches—cold, sharp, unnatural. It made you cling to Apollo more, his presence way more comforting, and although he had grown in size—appearing mighty godly now—he made sure that his arm stayed around you like a shield.

One dull-eyed human after another tried to serve you food and drinks that you declined respectfully. It was hard enough to keep up with the pressure, and you didn't have the stomach for any kind of intake—at least not until you were done. And with Apollo's urging, you didn't stick around to talk to them or even watch them, although you felt their eyes drill into your back.

You were led to the seats at the very top of the grand hall, guided to the ones at the side which were vividly red with golden threads. Sitting down on them was like sinking into a cloud as Apollo helped you up, lowering you down gently. The surrounding lounges and pillows on the floor were quickly filled with eager eyes looking up at you, waiting for your play just like your patron god had promised them. You couldn't help but look around, cross eyes with some of the nymphs and minor goddesses and gods that you probably had heard from but were never educated on properly.

But the gathered gods were easily recognizable by their trademarks—Dionysus, Athena, Aphrodite, and Artemis, just to name a few of them—and you were surprised to see them keeping one or more humans by their sides, looking very different from the ones you had seen before. These ones were clothed and prepared with great care, love, and devotion to their god. Their cheeks were plump, and they smiled when their patron spoke to them, albeit hesitantly. However, the unsettling feeling you got from the dull-eyed ones before didn't vanish as you watched these devoted humans. Something about their posture and expressions didn't match the festivities. They looked uncomfortable, and some of them even sad.

"It is time," Apollo spoke softly beside you, his voice gentle but intent. This was his party, and you were the special performance; of course, he didn't want you to be distracted and unable to play. His touch tore you out of your observations. It drew your attention back to him, strong fingers wrapping around your shoulders, squeezing you encouragely, but it was almost a little hurtful. You nodded, thankful he didn't make you look incompetent in front of everyone, and his grip softened in satisfaction, although it didn't disappear. Still, you couldn't help the anxiety from rising, your mouth dry, and your fingers jittery. Even when you tried to calm yourself, you couldn't entirely focus, panic rising inside you.

Now that you had come so far, you couldn't fail.

A hearty and a beautiful laugh rang out from your side, Dionysus and Aphrodite exchanging knowing looks before the goddess handed one of her humans a golden chalice and encouraged them to get up. "Go," she chimed, and her stunningly beautiful charge sauntered their way over to you, handing you the chalice. They were undeniably beautiful, even when clothed in the simplest garments. But their gaze was unblinking as they handed over the cup. "Don't," they hissed sharply in a whisper, their eyes flitting to Apollo for just a second, and you felt his fingers dig into your skin before the human left you again, trotting quickly and without a detour back to Aphrodite's side. The goddess patted their head before returning her attention to you, gesturing for you to drink. "To your nerves, you ray of sunshine," Dionysus laughed merrily, and everyone raised their chalices in a toast.

You nervously crossed eyes with the human that brought you the drink, seeing their expression hardening in a deep frown unbecoming of their beauty. Then you looked to Apollo, his own cup raised to his lips, but he had yet to drink from it. He observed you from the corners of his eyes, smiling when he noticed you looking back. "It's just a little bit of wine," he reassured you, assuming you were unsure if it was okay to drink.

You nodded, feeling pressured not to refuse the gods' hospitality, and raised the chalice to your mouth to take a tentative sip. It wasn't more than two gulps before you set it down, letting it be taken away by a nymph that sat at your feet. Immediately, the tension became lighter, your worries melting away, especially when Apollo drew you closer to his body, his warmth seeping into you. He steadied you for your play, letting you lean on him as much as you needed. With all the pressure and anxiety you had felt, you had almost forgotten that playing the lyre was fun. That you enjoyed doing it, and practiced hard enough to even perform before the gods. With the first chord echoing through the hall, all the tension finally left your body.

It was glorious.

Gods and humans alike sang along to the well-known songs you had picked; they listened when you added nuances to your play, and some of them got cozy with each other, cuddling and kissing as you presented them with the romantic notes everyone adored. By the time your hands were tired, fingers roughed up by the strings, and your concentration fading, everyone was in awe and satisfied with your performance, gods clapping their hands and cheering at you as you finished.

However, you immediately looked up at Apollo, greeted by his radiant smile beaming down at you. His hand raised to pat your head as he announced you as the magnificent talent of the night. The relief mixing with pride swelled in your chest, heating your cheeks as you took some humble bows, smothered in the cheers. Another cup was handed to you, and after performing for so long, you were glad to wet your throat.

Most of the night was spent talking to eager fans of music, letting them play your lyre, and hearing their own songs. Drinks would be passed to you, food almost shoved into your mouth by the merry folks, and you laughed along with them over their silliness. You felt lighter than ever before, so caught up in the moment and with the alcohol only adding towards the sense of mirth. The mystics were as playful and cheery as they had always been described, but you knew it would only be for that night, so you enjoyed their company.

Apollo wouldn't leave your side even as gods approached him, congratulating him for finding such a treasure amongst the humans and asking if he'd let them "take" you for their celebrations sometimes. You didn't get to hear his answers as your attention was drawn away by humans joining in with the conversations, telling you about their boons and how they were accepted into Olympus. They were all extraordinary people, and you felt quite small next to them. But they didn't make you feel unwelcome in their midst, and you were glad to hear about their experiences. Nymphs would braid everyone's hair, decorating them with flowers, fauns were playing around, everything seemed like the perfect idylle that all humans imagined the lives of gods to be.

"You shouldn't agree if they ask you to stay," the human beside you suddenly whispered. She was a cute, dainty woman, a follower of Artemis clothed in silver and pelts. Immediately, her hair was yanked back as one of the nymphs hissed at her. You caught the words 'insolent' and 'behave', but others crowded around you so fast, talking over the two and asking you questions as that woman was taken away, so you were forced to shift your attention.

It wasn't until you felt a warm hand graze over your back that you looked up at Apollo again, his gaze very gentle. He seemed satisfied with how the evening went. He might have even held some affection for you after the performance, which put him in good graces with everyone. Relief flooded your senses, and you bit back a yawn as exhaustion suddenly crashed into you, taking hold in your body.

"Are you tired?" he asked, and suddenly, you couldn't hold back the signs in front of him. You had kept it together so well, but you figured that playing for hours, talking for even longer, and drinking the sweet, fruity wine was coming back to haunt you now. Leaning into his comforting touch, you gave him a small nod and he understood, standing up and helping you get to your feet.

There were lots of disappointed aws and ohs at the announcement of your departure, nymphs and fauns seeing you off and waving after you as Apollo brought you back to his chariot, your legs even weaker now than when you entered the Olymp full of anxiety. No human came to see you off, but you barely registered that in your tired mind. Instead, you put on a smile and waved back at everyone after getting on the chariot.

"Did you have fun?" Apollo asked as he urged his horses to go. The night had long set, yet you two moved across the sky like a shooting star in the darkness.

"A lot," you confirmed. "This was an amazing experience; I am very grateful to you for this opportunity! Although it makes me sad that it is already over."

You could hear your own words slurred by the intoxication and exhaustion, yet you managed to form a tired smile for him. Apollo stepped closer, helping you stay upright as he urged his horses forward before returning your smile.

"It doesn't have to end," he hummed cheerfully, not a hint of tiredness in his demeanor. "You could play for us every night. Party with everyone, be merry. Would you like that?"

You chuckled at his suggestion but shook your head as you looked out into the night sky, stars passing you by at a speed that made them look like the shooting stars.

"It was a lot of fun, but I got to go home. My parents need my help on the farm, even if I love playing the lyre."

Apollo hummed thoughtfully, and you felt closer and closer to sleep as his warmth enveloped you. You only realized you had dozed off when you felt the soft thud of the chariot landing beneath your feet, followed by two hands guiding you off it. Your eyes fluttered open, but you were too tired to really do much but let yourself be picked up, nuzzling your face into Apollo's comforting warmth.

His steps were less gentle than his touches, his hold on you bouncy as if he was in a rush. The sounds around you turned from the peaceful night wind passing you by into complete silence, only his steps echoing as they hit marble floors. A rush of coldness threatened to envelop you, but Apollo pulled you closer to him, not letting the cold get near. You felt something reach out for you again, like the gods had, curious and uncaring of your privacy. It didn't feel familiar, your senses slowly reawakening, but something inside you seemed to want to keep you dormant for a while longer.

However, the feeling was interrupted when you were laid down into the softest cushions, with Apollo's warmth brushing over your head as you felt his weight dip the mattress you were on top of. Even with your drowsy mind, you knew you weren't in your own bed, concern rising. "Where are we?" you sighed, stretching your neck to receive more of his incredibly comforting warmth while a shiver ran down your spine. Why was it so unusually cold in this place, or had you just gotten too used to having Apollo's warmth around you that you only realized the shift in temperature now?

"Home," he answered your question, and you pried your eyes open, looking at the blurry, radiant form of the god sitting by your bedside. Then, slowly, every movement paired with so much discomfort, you let your head fall to the side, looking around at the vast darkness surrounding you. Not even Apollo's light could banish the pitch-black shadows all around you, and no sound penetrated the room.

" 's not my home..." you mumbled, brows furrowing, your deduction taking an awful lot of time. This place felt weird compared to all the wonderful ones you had visited. If this was his home, you had imagined it to be bright and beautiful, a golden palace of light and warmth. But instead, you feared for your little toes as the shadows seemed to reach out, wanting some of your warmth instead of giving it to you.

"It is now," he reassured you, sounding unusually stern even though his hand caressed you gently, brushing away your hair and cupping your cheek to turn your head towards him again.

"But my parents..."

"They knew the price they'd pay in this trade."

Leaning down, Apollo connected his forehead with yours, the depth of his eyes impalpable, especially in your muddled brain. You couldn't read him well, but he seemed... satisfied? He didn't seem to be ridden by confusion or worry like you were; rather, he was confident and calm. Something stirred in you, a sense of anxiety, but it was beaten down by a sweet-tasting tiredness immediately.

"Welcome home," he muttered, kissing your temples. "Catch some sleep so you can fulfill your duties to me tomorrow with the same brilliance as you did today. I'll be right here, making sure you are well-rested for your next performance, Sunshine."

"Duties?" you mumbled, already getting lulled back to sleep with his warmth now enveloping you like a blanket. You didn't hear his answer, even when you saw his lips move. Perhaps Apollo sang to you rather than spoke about what you wanted to know, but you wouldn't know.

You were plunged into the darkness of uncertainty, but even when you opened your eyes again, all that awaited you were more shadows that seemed to reach out for you. A sense of panic and unease spread throughout you, the uncertainty turning you into more of a wreck than you already felt after waking up with a splitting headache and no idea where you were.

It was no wonder that you immediately ran to Apollo when his light lit up the room. He gently wiped the tears from your face and assured you everything would be alright before pushing your lyre into your hands. You didn't even remember bringing it back from the Olymp, but he didn't seem to mind your carelessness.

"Now, play," he asked, and you gulped. You were barely awake, your fingers still hurt, and you were in an unfamiliar place that gave you the creeps.

"Here?" you asked, unsure as you looked around the depressing, dark room.

"Exactly here. Brighten up our home for me, will you? It's been too long since someone made it bearable to stay here. You won't disappoint me, right?"

"How... how did they do it? Will my playing be enough?"

"We'll see," Apollo said, gripping your arms tensely, his eyes glazing over with impatience.

"And if not?" you asked anxiously, unsure if a song could disperse the discomfort that seemed to reign in this home.

This time, Apollo hesitated, mouth opening briefly before his lips turned into a gentle smile. "Don't disappoint me, Sunshine. I can't stand this darkness and silence in my home anymore, and your parents assured me of how much life you could bring to any place. Seeing you perform before the gods, I immediately knew you could do it. You'll make this place a home again, one for us to live happily for the rest of our time. And if not..."

Letting go of your arms, Apollo stood up, turning around and heading for the door at the far side of the room. You wanted to follow him as the shadows lapped at you, but you felt glued to the floor, frozen in fear. With Apollo opening the door, you watched as the clouds passed by right outside, a complete drop into nothingness spreading out in front of this house, the chariot parked on seemingly no ground just outside of reach.

"If not, you'll learn what happened to the person before you that disappointed me," Apollo explained, not even pointing outside and towards the ground to make his crypticness make sense. "Play," he demanded. "Turn this place back into a home. Our home, Sunshine."

And with dread etched into your face, you strung the chords.

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tanuki-kimono · 1 year ago

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Lovely article+illustrations by Kimono Ichiba (via Tanpopo <3), overviewing famous "scary"patterns... which are in fact often auspicious as traditional Japanese patterns ;)

I believe I have them all on the blog somewhere but it's nice having them in one place so let's go!

Spiderwebs (kumo no su)

In ancient China, spider were seen as auspicious messengers connecting Heaven to Earth.

As the spider catches its prey in its web, spiderweb came to signify "grasping happiness".

Apparently during Edo period, prostitutes and geisha used spiderweb patterned items as a good luck charm (meaning something like "this customer will come back").

A very famous spiderweb depiction is the Lady Rokujo ukiyoe [焔 honô (the flame of passion)] by female artist Uemura Shoen. Wisteria caught in the web could mean ``I hope [Prince Genji] will come tonight'' which is pretty sad considering her story T_T

Skulls (dokuro)

Exact name for human remains pattern is "nozarashi" (lit. "weather beaten") ie bones scattered in a field. This depicts a corpse turned to bones/unveiled from its grave by the elements.

Skulls are thought to ward off evil and bad luck. Bones can also symbolize a do-or-die spirit, or hope for rebirth after death.

OP stresses a theory linking bones pattern to a buddhist saying 色即是空 shikisokuzekū "form is emptiness, matter is void, all is vanity". An interpetation is that we'll all turn to dust one day so we're all equal.

Bones patterns are often seen during Obon (Festival of the dead) season.

Monsters, ogres and ghosts (yôkai / oni / yûrei)

Monsters patterns were then worn to ward off bad luck and evil spirits. Reasoning is: let's repel scary things by wearing an even scarier monster!

Fearsome monsters were especially use by people with dangerous jobs, like Edo period firemen.

Firemen often had the lining of their heavy fire attire (火事装束 kajishouzoku) embelished with lavish designs of brave heroes and fantastic monsters. It was both a talisman and a way to show that they did not fear danger or death.

Another reason behing monsters patterns is the Edo period love for "scary" entertainements, be it ghost stories, parlor or other types of games, art (see for ex. Utagawa Kuniyoshi), etc. And Edo city dwellers were all about being fashionable so a monster pattern would have been considered quite iki!

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 9 months ago

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NO BUT I NEED SATORU AND SUKUNA INSIDE OF ME RIGHT NEEOOOWWWWW I CAN TAKE THEM.BOTH!!!!!

❝ Darling, won't you just plead, or should I begin to bleed? ❞

Heian Era!Sukuna Ryomen x ftm!reader x Heian Era!Gojo Satoru | alternate universe, NSFW | sub. bottom. reader (AFAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 5.4

warnings: mentions of murder, dub. con (Gojo Satoru), power imbalance, size difference, threesome, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, anal sex, spit roasting, triple penetration, tummy bulging, improper use of RCT , marking, possessive sex, degradation, one of Sukuna's cock gets bigger out of spite, unrealistic amounts of cum, AFAB terminology (reader's genitals are referred to with cock, dick, hole, boycunt, boypussy, clit)

“Call off your dog, Sukuna,” he snarls. Sukuna’s grin stretches obscenely and he throws his head back to laugh. Satoru hopes to have hurt your ego — from the tall tales he’s heard of (Y/N), you were known to have a haughty air about you. Satoru is sorely disappointed as he hears you chuckling along with Sukuna. In any other situation, the sweet sounds of your laughter would’ve made his heart flutter. But it’s mixed with Sukuna’s cackling so intricately he shudders at the very thought.

“Come, dog.”

authors note: heed the warnings!!! * YN is described as having long hair because of the heian beauty standard (hair colour and texture not mentioned)!

When the sun sets over the horizon and tucks itself past the peaks of those great mountains, it isn’t unusual for the sounds of burning to follow. Little slivers of suns swaying on top of wax or dancing across oil. Naturally, the burning comes with smoke. Casual tantalizing curls emitting from the evershifting flame; make you wonder if the sun steams and smokes.

Does it stay in the darkness, its company being the dancers of its creation swirling with it to the crackling of its flames? Afterall, if the sun is the king of flames, it would make sense that he has his own concubines.

Your eyes pull away from the sprouts of candles at the edge of the throne. Leaning your head back, you now gaze up at the king of curses as he breathes in the flavourful, addictive, smoke from the burning tobacco and exhales it into the air. He swallows the ghostly concubines. Stealing another king’s treasure. It was like him; he was the true king, after all.

Sukuna pays you no mind. He had called you to lounge with him, had Uruame prepare you for a night of passion despite not yet touching you. He had simply tapped his lap and you filled out the space by cushioning your head on his big thigh.

He’s dressed in auspiciously white garments, the expensive material has you wondering what’s in store for the both of you. The King of Curses does not need primping. Even so, he is dressed loosely. The mouth on his stomach is visible and one of his sleeves threatens to fall from his shoulder. The hand holding the smoke pipe allows itself to be pushed while the lower pair holds onto your hips. He stares down at you, his four eyes glinting silently in question. You’re practically kneeling on his lap and you barely reach the bottom half of his lips.

“Do you recall how many people I’ve killed for their insolence?” his tone is drawled out, a tinge of amusement hidden behind the baritones. “Yes, my King. I’ve always enjoyed watching you destroy them,” your hands curl around the bulging muscles of his chest and you trace up the tattoos he has to reach his shoulders.

Sukuna takes you in. Uruame had outdone themselves. You’re dressed in his favourite colours. Nothing too restrictive, the layers were enough to entice but not to invoke annoyance. Japanese politeness and grace are interwoven into every stitch despite your less-than-innocent gaze. You’ve always had the prettiest eyes; he remembers jesting that he’d pluck them out to put into a jar just so he could see them every day. They trial the shape of your lips, painted with the shades of flower petals that bloom in the light of the heavens; he thinks the irony is all the more poetic.

Your mouth and heaven do not go hand-in-hand. It’s pure sin. From that wicked, silver, tongue to your saccharine-sweet smile to that spine-shivering laugh.

You were hell-born. Just like he was.

Gently, you slip your digits under the fabric of his shoulder and he watches you and your actions impassively. Four eyes give him more room to admire you with, whatever part of you. He imagines you mean to smooth out the — imaginary — wrinkles as your palm slips up and down his broad shoulders. Your touching earns a firm squeeze to your hips, his hands are so large they cover the entirety of your back. And when they squeeze it makes your eyes flutter. He could snap you in half with just one hand. Barely use any of his strength — Sukuna could kill you as an afterthought, toss your beautiful body aside, and never think of you again.

But he doesn’t.

“You are getting impatient, boy.” The hand on his chest could feel that rumbling. Your throne — his lap — moves and you let yourself be placed according to his will. Sukuna sets you back on his lap and splays you out with a look. You stretch out on him — if you were a cat your tail would’ve curled coyly into the air just under his chin.

“It is late, Your Grace.”

The only lights left were from the candles and pools of oil ignited.

“You are passion and flame and I’ve been prepared for you to alight.”

He thinks your flowery words are adorable but unneeded. Sukuna props his face on his knuckles as he gazes down at your exposed legs. They’re practically glowing and the scent of oil entices his cocks. The mouth on his stomach splits and his tongue curls over the teeth there - you giggle at the sight.

“You want me to fuck you,” he smirks sharply, “and I am telling you to wait, brat.”

“For what?” You prop yourself on your elbows, brows pinched. “The servant that prepared me has his head tossed into a hole and yet I can still feel his little prick inside of me.”

Taking Ryomen Sukuna’s cocks was not an easy feat. For the common man, a few fingers and oil would do. For a beast that is your king, a generous pour of oil and a man pumped with herb aphrodisiacs was needed. None of the men would ever reach completion and neither did you — Sukuna would not allow it.

They would fuck you but once Uruame felt that you were stretched enough to gape, they’d pull the man away and bring him to the courtyard. A hole would be dug and the naked man would be beheaded. His penis was tossed in there to be buried and forgotten. No one should live to tell the tale of preparing Sukuna’s precious concubine. They should be honoured they were chosen but they’ll never be seen again. Those poor bastards. At least they were useful before they died.

Mirth sparks in his eyes.

“I spoil you,” and at that, you bashfully turn away. “I deserve to be spoiled.”

A greeting comes from across the long hall. The servants next to the doors rise from their bowed positions and it slides open to reveal Uruame and a man touched by frost behind them. Uruame is kneeling, and the man is not.

“Your Grace,” Uruame bows deeper.

“The head of the Gojo clan, Gojo Satoru. As you requested.”

His skin was pale and his hair paler. You’re certain if the sun rose he’d turn all but translucent. The flicker from the candles attempts to cast shadows across his small face but they cannot darken those sky-blue eyes. Uruame had announced he was from the Gojo clan but, you’ve only ever seen such blue eyes from white men — he doesn’t appear to have been sired by one. You doubt they’d even let the head of their clan be of a mixed race.

Gojo Satoru is a freak of nature. He is a curse in the shape of a man.

“Does he not know how to bow?” Your purring tone is gone. It’s cold as Uruame’s technique. Sukuna eases it back with a deliberate squint of his eye.

“Bring him in. Then leave, Uruame.” They bow deeper (if that was even possible) and after Satoru steps through, Uruame is hidden by the sliding doors once again.

“Have you reconsidered my offer, sorcerer?” Satoru’s brows are furrowed, and his long sleeves hide his hands but from the flex of his shoulders you know they are clenched.

Rising from your throne you make your down the platform. Every step exposes your delicious thighs and legs and it is so indecent it makes Satoru’s ire falter. The sleeves of your outfit drag onto the floor and it weighs down the fabric around your shoulder; your neck and your clavicle down to the whisper of your chest has Satoru’s ears blush.

You walk in a half-circle to his right, your eyes set into a glare that disappears as slips from his eyesight. Satoru knows he should not let you get behind him but turning his head away from Sukuna seems more damning. Sukuna says nothing of your less-than-inviting nature, his silence prompting Satoru to speak. “To serve you or die?” he scowls. “The Gojo clan will not serve you, Ryomen Sukuna.” Sukuna sighs, placing his smoke pipe down as he frowns. “So you have come all the way here to waste my time and to die. So typical of you sorcerers.”

“If you wish for my clan to serve you, we require more than empty promises.” Satoru’s tone was akin to the sound of the first arrow whistling through the wind, the growl he let out being the twang of the released drawstring. Regret beads down the back of his neck as he feels the sharp edge of a curved dagger pressed against the hill of his throat.

“You ask my king to fulfill wishes? Do you think him a genie?” the shape of his teeth familiarizes themselves as his jaw clenches. The blade is a cursed object, it mewls and groans faintly; the opal colour breathing as it soaks in his blood.

“Come, dog.”

With a curl of a finger, Satoru is able to breathe. You make your way to Sukuna, kneeling as you reach the top of the platform and crawl right onto his lap. The dagger slipped under the fabric around your waist.

“You are certainly an arrogant man, sorcerer. Your haughty clans fail to have taught you any diplomatic manners.”

“Diplomatic?” Satoru barks out a laugh. You narrow your eyes, bemused. “You’re a tyrant, King of Curses! The villages you’ve burned to the ground, the clans you’ve wiped out! Diplomacy? You’re taking the piss!”

Sukuna spots the curls of your lips and when glance up at him, he concurs that you do deserve to be spoiled because the two of you share the same thoughts.

This Satoru, this stubborn man; he would make a fine collection for both of you if he could survive a night.

“You require more than my word to serve me? Very well.” The nudging from your side earns him a purr and with your back turned to Satoru, you shed the fabrics. Blue eyes watch in confusion as they watch you kneel and push away the clothes from Sukuna’s shoulder.

“My darling dog has been hungry. He’s insatiable, every part of him.” One of his hands holds your chin and turns it so Satoru has a clear view of your side profile with your lips pushed forward.

“From his painted lips.”

Another hand slips down the waist of your outfit and it gives way to show the small of your back. Nearly the entirety of your back is marked from Sukuna’s lips, teeth, nails, and hands like a canvas of artwork.

“To his tight holes. You cannot see it, sorcerer, but he is clenching around the tip of my finger. Hungry.”

The hilt of your dagger is askew but neither paid it any mind. There’s more rustling and you’re almost completely naked as you obediently let yourself be displayed.

“Ah!” The wet squelch of a tongue makes your back straighten and your fingers spasm as they tighten their hold on Sukuna’s robes.

“His useless cock is already leaking.”

“What are you asking of me, Sukuna?” Satoru speaks through gritted teeth. But his skin is so pale it betrays his weak resolve. Those reddened cheeks and ears, the racing heartbeat; Sukuna doesn’t need four eyes to know that Satoru’s dick was interested in whatever is being offered.

“Fuck my darling boy and your family will not be cursed by me while they serve me, Satoru.”

“W — What?” he sputters. Meanwhile, you’re all but melting as the sounds continue. He sees your ass trembling as your expression melts in pleasure.

Sukuna arches a pointed brow as his hand tugs the clothes of your body and it flutters onto the ground in a fancy display. There you are. Naked as the day you were born. Satoru should look away; but how does one pull their sights away from a body carved by the devil? Angelic in all the wrong ways, temptation sticks to your skin like perfume and Satoru is not a saint but he feels as though a single touch would damn him. In fact, just looking at you is dangerous.

“Are you a virgin? Or is my concubine not to your taste?”

Your nail digs through Sukuna’s shoulder. So his large tongue sweeps below your drenched cunt to soothe your irritation.

“I warn you to answer that question with caution, Gojo Satoru,” you hiss out.

“Perhaps he’s not a fan of men,” Sukuna reasons. “Common men perhaps. Are you calling me common, My King?” the squelching sound of your nails digging in makes streams of crimson slip down Sukuna’s skin and the sight of it has Satoru gasping (again).

“Put your claws away, boy. As if I would sink my cock into a common man. No, I take you like a proper bitch. This body may be different, but this tight hole?”

Satoru watches a tongue appear from Sukuna’s palm. The pink muscle pushes in and the rim of your asshole easily gives in, back arching further to assist. "And this?" Satoru sees the dexterous muscle from his stomach curl. A tongue larger than any he's ever seen, squirming its way inside of you from the front, and it makes you gasp airily in pleasure as it eagerly wriggles deeper.

“A body made to be fucked, to be left leaking with cum for days. And it is rare, Satoru, for it to leak with cum that isn’t mine.”

Satoru takes a tentative step back, shame coursing through him as he tears his eyes down.

“This is — This is dishonorable — “

“If you walk through that door, Satoru, you’ve sealed the fate of your clan to be erased forever.”

You moan as his tongue grows longer and those bloody fingers wrap around Sukuna’s thick neck. The mask on Sukuna’s face, the eyes on it, narrow the tiniest bit.

“And you’d offend my concubine greatly. He’ll enjoy murdering each and every one of your clan members for the disrespect.”

The candles shudder as the wind blows through the slits of the wood. It causes the flames to dance and the shame Satoru is experiencing to be swallowed down. He is frozen there for a moment, your sighs of pleasure like a siren call to hell. Sukuna’s great tongue hides behind a row of teeth, the grin most likely identical to the one he wears on his face, as Satoru approaches the steps of the platform.

“Come, Gojo Satoru.”

Climbing up the stairs was akin to walking to the gates of hell. Satoru can see the sheen of sweat on the back of your neck. He wonders if every part of tastes like heaven. Your tears, your slick, your sweat, your cum, your blood. Without even laying your hand on him once and you've already destroyed him, (Y/N).

"Kneel." Sukuna's words are a vow. An agreement. If Satoru's knees had settled onto the wooden floor, he'd have sealed the fate of his entire clan to serve under Ryomen Sukuna. His pupils quake, taking a sharp intake of breath as he tries to steady his heart.

Your hands invade his vision. The palms of Sukuna's concubine are soaked in crimson — was that why they were so soft? Your nails still have Sukuna's blood and the feeling makes spiders crawl up his spine.

"Gooseflesh rippling?" You whisper as your naked body finally earns his focus. You're in a puddle of your clothes, kneeling before him. Tilting your head, you surge upwards and press your forehead with his. His eyes may be haunting but yours are unforgettable.

It reminds him of the first time he'd ever peered into the darkness of the woods behind his clan's estate. How the light never reaches past the woodline. The silence. The way his brain made up shapes and faces and beings and curses and you.

In that memory, there you are. Between the mighty trees, what little light did reach you making your eyes reflect it back; as if you didn't have a soul yourself and all you can do is pretend.

"Kneel, boy." You say and Satoru's knees buckle.

The thud that resounds was final. Your grin is terrifying. Sukuna looms over your shoulder and his eyes are glowing with excitement.

Gojo Satoru had made a deal with two devils.

"Good sorcerer," your face comes closer and your lips acquaintances themselves with his. They're pillowy and soft. Blood rushes south despite Satoru's conflicted feelings. If he pretends you're not who you are, perhaps he can delude himself into thinking you're someone he loved; a man he wishes to devour; Violet eyes, black hair, upturned eyes with a voice that'd make angels sigh.

That image disappears as he feels your fingers wrap around his throat. You say nothing. But the second Satoru's eyes shoot open, he sees the unamused expression on your face.

"Now, don't get yourself killed so early on in the night, Satoru," Sukuna muses out. His lower hand reaches to grasp the nape of your neck and it squeezes hard enough for Satoru to hear your bones wheeze under pressure.

"Come here, darling." You turn away with a huff.

Satoru doesn't know what to do with himself so he is content to watch as you undress Sukuna. The King of Curses watches, enraptured by your movement as his torso is now bare of anything. The mouth on his stomach, that monstrous tongue, wets your chest and you simply shudder but continue your task.

"My concubine can be rather pouty when he isn't paid attention to. Best to not let your mind wander, Satoru."

You scowl, bending over to mouth at Sukuna's crotch as he holds the back of your head. The sight of your dripping cunt and ass has Satoru's cock rising to attention.

"How dare he even do so. I'll slice his cock off," Sukuna thinks the sight would be amusing but he simply guides your head lower.

There were rumours of Ryomen Sukuna's endowment.

If he had another pair of everything, did that mean his cock was the same?

Satoru wonders how you aren't split in half as he sees Sukuna's cocks twitching in your grasp. They're thick and heavy, bumping into each other as they perk up from your attention. The tip of it is nearly bright red, angry, and demanding a hole to sink into. The veins on it must make you keen often because you tongue at them with a pleased grin.

"Satoru." He tears his eyes away from the sight. Sukuna smiles at him, ignoring your pleased groans as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth while your hand strokes over the other.

"Feast, Satoru."

The command is so simple yet so vague. Satoru can't quite comprehend it. So he stares at Sukuna then at you, kneeling before your King with the most obscene noises coming from your mouth. There was no way the phallus could even comfortably rest on your tongue, each the length of your face and as thick as your wrist.

It must be uncomfortable. He must have other concubines for this exact reason. There was simply no way you alone could please him.

Your head rises from between your shoulders, and a long stroke from the base to the tip of his cock has Sukuna exhaling through his nose; he sees you bob up and then down. A minute gagging noise slips through but then you widen your knees and somehow you dip your head low.

"That's it, darling. Take your fill."

He wasn't lying when he said you were greedy. Satoru pushes himself to stand and Sukuna would usually kill men for not bowing their heads to the floor but he wants to see what the white-haired man intends to do.

Cheeks sucked in, eyebrows sloped delicately as your jaw strains to keep itself intact. Sukuna is well-endowed, big, humongous, huge — whatever other synonym you'd use to describe big cock(s). You feel someone move your bangs out of the way.

"He's halfway down..." Satoru had seen a lot in his life. From the fantastical curse techniques of other sorcerers to the nightmare-inducing curses, the wealth from his clan members also assists the opulence he's known since birth. The whores his uncles had given to him as a gift for his birthday — the array of positions they knew, of how willing they were to do whatever he asked with a grin even if it involved humiliating themselves or him.

But he'd never seen a man as handsome as you take such a monstrous dick in his mouth with no effort. The stretch of your lips, the smear of the red pigment around it, and on Sukuna's cock.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" Sukuna boasts. "Usually, the other concubines look like fishes speared on a pike when they take me into their mouths." Your eyes open in a glare and Satoru placates it by stroking your temple with his thumb.

"Not even a mention?" Satoru's inquiry earns a chuckle from Sukuna. "No. He will not allow it, if I wasn't so far down his mouth I'm sure he would've pulled away to complain." The hand on your head is not Sukuna's but it holds you firmly in place.

"How do you even fuck the other concubines?" Satoru wonders.

"(Y/N) usually slaughters them a week after I've brought them in." Satoru's shock weakens his hold, so you pull away with a cough and frown deeply up at the two men.

"I do not slaughter them! They just so happened to have ill-fated ends." You squeeze his cock one more time before turning your attention to his lower half, kissing it sweetly on its head before smearing his precum all over your lips, the smell of it making your cheeks warmer than it already was.

Truly, (Y/N). You didn't need to play this part of a proper highborn so astutely. Even if you beheaded the last concubine he had in front of him instead of summoning a curse to slam into it, resulting in the palanquin and the concubine within it along with her attending ladies being thrown off a cliff and mangled beyond words; he wouldn't have punished you.

It was your right to exorcise whoever you needed to so long as it didn't interfere with Sukuna's will. It pleased him to make you bridled with rage to result in murder, why wouldn't it? The blood that painted you from your head to your toes. It cannot all be his doing.

His dearest concubine, you mustn't get queasy so quickly. Show him the lines you'll cross to ensure he remains yours. Kill whoever you please, maim the sorcerers who take him away from you, burn down villages, and bask in their cries and their pain with him.

Hide your giggles behind your silk sleeves if you must but don't you dare hide your amusement of carnage from him; command curses to tear men apart and slice women to shreds. Everything is yours, (Y/N). Everything you wish for, everything you ask for, everything you need, and everything you didn't even think you required.

The world is yours.

"Of course," he grins and the tongue from his stomach reaches out to lick your cheek.

"Astonishing," Satoru mutters. Concubines killing each other aren't anything new though he sincerely doubts the others truly understood what they were getting into when they became Sukuna's. "Thank you," you reply after combing your hair back to take his other cock in your mouth.

Satoru feels overdressed and Sukuna was not in the business of doing that task for him. So he sheds his layers, the symbols of crane wings embroidered in the sleeves shimmer gloriously up at him. Satoru folds them over to hide it.

He will need to forget about everything else tonight. If he wishes to remain sane or tolerate the both of you — he will use his other head to guide him.

"Milky skin." You purr from Sukuna's lap. "Pale as the moon. Eyes as blue as the sky. I would kill you if you lived in this palace."

Satoru scoffs, standing with his cock twitching in the cool breeze.

"How fortunate for the both of us that I don't live here then." He hisses as your grasp onto his semi-hard dick.

"Even the hairs here are white. What a pretty cock." The feeling of your velvet tongue on his tip makes his breath shudder. It's nowhere close to Sukuna's length —or girth —but that doesn't cause him disappointment. He's longer than average, his cockhead poking the back of your throat, and veiny, mainly on his sides.

"Good weight," he moans as your lips trace the prominent veins, painting his blushing cock with your marks. Satoru doesn't understand what you want to him to say to the comment, a thank you seemed unbecoming and anything else would be odd. So he says nothing and just caresses your jaw to guide your mouth forward.

"Take your fill, (Y/N)."

The position you're in is not entirely new. You've taken Uraume and Sukuna together before. Witt their sex is in your mouth while your King takes you from behind. Ah, what fond memories. You really should invite the ever-so-loyal servant into your bed once again.

What a talented mouth they had. Such vigor to please you, adoration pouring from them with every flick of their tongue.

Sukuna is still a possessive lover. That did not change. But he does find amusement in the way you ache for Uraume's body and something about the way Uraume strokes themselves to completion as they watch the two of you fuels him with pride.

But enough about your lovely Uraume.

Satoru had placed his robes beneath your knees and so you suck in your cheeks as thanks as you suck on his length. Your hands were on his knee and his fingers held a fistful of your hair. The silken cloth beneath you makes you inch forward with each thrust from Sukuna.

"The way he's stretched around me. Satoru, I'll save his other hole for you to fuck, this one is all mine," his hips are flushed against your ass. He can feel your cunt attempting to push him out, resisting the stretch that would've killed others, as cursed energy flows through your body. It would ebb away, the need to heal yourself, as your body gets used to his size but fuck does it make Sukuna grin absolutely monstrous at the very fact you even need to do so.

You can't blame him. It's not like he'd never hurt you in any way you didn't like.

Your thighs are clenched tightly around his other cock. Luscious thighs slicked with oil that had been conveniently placed nearby and making sounds almost as obscenely as your filled cunt.

Satoru's jaw is loose. Throaty groans and appreciative moans rewarding your efforts as your nose presses against the patch of pubic hair he has. Diamonds line your waterline as you breathe through your nose, the back of your throat squeezing around Satoru's cock.

"Fuck!" He pulls you away, stroking himself furiously with one hand and holding your head in the other. The expression on your face should be preserved forever, Satoru thinks. So that future men will wish to be born in the same era as you.

His brows furrow in annoyance at how ethereal you look.

You should look whorish — which you do! But there's something unreal about it. Picture perfect, an embodiment of lust, depravity that beckons with that wet tongue and wetter eyes.

"S'kuna! Oh, yes, yes — Darling, you fill me so well!" Your voice is hoarse as you're jostled back and forth, nails leaving claw marks on the wooden floors. Satoru lets go of your head and you stretch out like a cat, the top half melting as your back arches into a perfect position.

Sukuna kneads at the mounds of your ass, splitting it apart to watch your asshole winking back at him while he holds your waist. It's brutal how he fucks you. Satoru stands and backs away to watch, his breath coming out in barely there white puffs and his heartbeat drumming through his ears.

"Fuh - fuck! Mpfh! Ngh — Your cocks are beautiful, they fill me so well," He tightens his hold on you and the moan you let out as he moves your body makes Satoru's cum bead on his tip.

Sukuna chuckles as he sees Satoru cursing and wiping away his shame. "You've never been in a room where people aren't salivating over you have you, sorcerer?" Satoru frowns pointedly at his condescending tone.

"Hah! I feel you in my stomach — You're — !"

"Must you belittle me any chance you get? Are you trying to compensate for something?" Satoru retorts. It makes Sukuna bark out a laugh. Strong biceps curl and flex as he rights your upper half so that it's pressed to his front.

On display for Satoru with Sukuna's greediest mouth curling around your chest to tease your chest.

"Compensate, is that the word you used?"

Between your slicked thighs, his cock spears through them in tandem with the one inside you. Satoru's eyes widen at the sight of the prominent bump poking from your stomach. The fact that you aren't dead is a clear testament to your skills — both in bed and in battle.

"I've heard no one has ever cut his skin," Satoru kneels again in front of you, nose curling at the dexterous muscle that flicks at his chin. "I know Reverse Curse Technique is a useful skill to have...but I never thought you'd be so perverse to use it so shamelessly."

"Get off your high horse, S — Mfh! That feel s'good — Satoru!"

"Wrong name," Sukuna growls near your ear. It manages to split Satoru's lips into a smirk as he cups your chest in each hand. It's slicked with saliva and he ignores the disgust he feels as he locks his lips with yours. Sweet as ever, despite the saltiness that lingers on your tongue.

"If his cunt is yours," Satoru pants out between kissing you. His thumb tweaking your nipples between his index, his cock hanging heavily as it fills up once again.

"Then he'll have to face away. I'll take his ass," he bites down on your lower lip. The sensation of his teeth and Sukuna's rough palms tightening their grip on you have you squealing in pleasure. His hips pause, it gives you enough time to form words while the men stare each other down for a second.

Sukuna was beginning to miss Uraume's presence. They never glared at him with open animosity, unadulterated wanting and greedily claiming your chest with a grip that'd leave bruises.

The shadows of a scowl crossed his face. Insolent little brat. But so fucking gorgeous. Strong too, from what he's heard.

He wasn't anywhere near as beautiful or strong as you but Sukuna has always had a penchant for these types. No one walks all over him. But he does find it amusing when pretty faces are so defiant — or when their heads are staked on a pike with crows plucking their eyes out.

You're breath shudders as Sukuna pulls you off his cock, leaning onto Satoru. He wraps his arms around you, eyelids fluttering at the feeling of your wet lips tracing his jaw while your body is all but boneless.

He inhales sharply as you grab his cock. "Thankfully, you're not — hah — completely incompetent in the sack. Impressive stamina, sorcerer." That, he could say thank you too. So he does.

Satoru is kind as he maneuvers you to face your beloved. Was that irritation in his chest at how excitedly you allowed Sukuna to claim your lips? Gods, no.

"Get closer," you said as you glanced at him over your shoulder. "If the both of you are going to fuck me, get closer."

What was it that Sukuna told him to do again?

Feast?

You can't tell where your pleasure begins or ends. Every nerve was set aflame and you weren't even sure if your body could've survived this if it weren't for your cursed energy.

Because from behind you, Satoru's thick member is spearing you again and again with Sukuna's. The idea of Satoru's cock inside of you seemed to have upset him enough to want to...accompany it in its endeavors. The sorcerer is hypnotized by the way your rim furls and unfurls on his blushing dick, how it greedily squeezes down every time he hits home and bumps his cockhead with Sukuna's. Even though their cum was creating a frothy ring of white at his base — he seems intent on pumping you with more and more and more. Marking your insides as white as his hair. He spreads your cheeks apart, groaning each time he does, and fuck, he's filthy as he whispers into your ear.

"You take us so fucking well. Like a proper whore, huh?"

"I'm not — I'm not a whore, you —"

Then, at the front, Sukuna's displeasure at Satoru's brazen attitude was taken out on your cunt. Still, you take all of him in because what concubine would you be if you couldn't? Your pride was on the line and you'd rather claw your own eyes out than let it be broken down.

His cock was inside of your cunt. You were more than pleased.

Sukuna's face floats above yours, his hands gripping everywhere while Satoru was chased off to just handle your ass. Though even then, he'd grab a handful of each cheek just to leave bitemarks on it — and annoy Satoru.

"Look at you," he groans out. His vermillion eyes are hooded with lust as he cradles your face.

You were perfection. A filthy little demon made to accompany him until the end of time. Your brows sloped so prettily, eyes hazy and lashes clumped together with tear streaks down your face. Lips red and bruised, neck littered with angry and dark marks.

"My King, my beloved, I — Oh, fuck, I'm close, I'm close," you whimper for what felt like the 5th time that night alone.

Why you were cumming? You weren't even sure.

The aching stretch of both holes as your brain is wrecked with too much pleasure is causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Your hands spasm from within one of Sukuna's hands and your whole body shakes as you feel yourself cum again.

"Ah, shit!" Satoru groans as he pulls out, frowning as cum follows his departure and drops onto the floor. "You're just as awful as he is," he hisses out to Sukuna as he glares at the way the cock he'd been sharing your ass with stopped growing. Snug as a bug as it plugged you up. Satoru had already been close, with a few more thrusts he'd be filling you up once again. Then, what he thought was you tightening up turned out to be Sukuna making his cock so big it made the fit painful.

Fucking asshole.

"If I was as awful as he was, I would've cleaved the top of your head off, Gojo." Sukuna grabs your ass and your wanton mewl makes both men twitch.

His thrusting picks up its speed and you fight back his hold to wrap your arms around his neck. Sukuna allows it. He's close. You can tell. He's close and like a child, he decides he's the only one allowed to flood your insides with his cum, overflow your body until it forgets the taste of Gojo Satoru's.

"Sukuna, Sukuna — My lover, my beloved," you manage a dopey grin as you messily mould your lips together.

"Cum with me, Sukuna."

He's wonderfully loud when he does. Violent too. His nails digging into your waist and ass while he thrusts himself balls deep inside of you. Satoru's amazed your body hadn't given out — amazed at your endurance and how your cursed energy levels hadn't once seemed to deflate once in the time the three of you had been naked.

He shouldn't hope for it — but Satoru wonders how you would fare in a fight with himself. In fact, he cums into his own fist and onto the floor at the very thought.

Sukuna groans as you squeeze around him, another orgasm washing over you in pathetic spurts of wetness from your cunt.

Soft panting fills the air. The two servants by the door rise from their knees to slide the door open and Uraume walks in with three women behind them.

"Fuck," Satoru should scramble to get off his kneeled position but his body is too pumped with pleasure to even process the command. "Oh, don't feel shame, sorcerer," Sukuna muses out.

The King of Curses leans back, settling on his throne with you in his lap and still snuggly inside of your holes. Uraume comes to your back, and two girls tend to Sukuna, gracefully wiping him down while Uraume does the same to you.

The other girl does the same to Satoru and he simply tosses his head back as he falls back onto his calves, groaning at the cool water.

"They've heard everything already. Your sacrifice for your clan. How noble."

A weak giggle comes from the mess of limbs on Sukuna's torso. It's still one of the most heart-fluttering sounds Satoru had ever listened to and he hates how his cheeks reddens once again as you lift your head to smile at him.

"So very noble, Gojo Satoru."

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #transmale reader #gay reader #male!reader #jjk x male reader #ryomen sukuna x male reader #gojo satoru x male reader #gojo satoru x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 2 months ago

Text

Sass & Suspenders

Legal AU: Prosecutor!Bucky x Female!Doctor!Reader

You and Bucky are both professionals in a long term relationship, but you like to mix things up once in a while despite the humdrum of life.

Warnings: smut, 18+ only, minors please leave

Word Count: 2,953

A/N: Because I have a thing for men in suspenders and I've thought about this for far too long.

Bucky groaned. But not one iota of the deep articulation of the sound that escaped his lips was rooted in any form of pleasure. You shared the sentiment. Taxes - who ever enjoyed doing those?

"Do we have to?" he whined.

"You promised!" you admonished, knowing full well that if he persisted in his protests, you would succumb to his point of view.

The pout you received in response was almost as good as his closing arguments. It was 9pm and you had both left your busy jobs to spend an evening together completing your tax returns. Your relationship had most certainly reached the pinnacle of excitement.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, you nudged your boyfriend towards the study you shared. The two of you had been putting off the chore for several weeks and you had finally laid down the law to your handsome attorney.

"I'm tired."

"So am I, but it has to be done. Come on."

Despite the fact that your crazy careers that kept you busy until ridiculous hours, the two of you found a way to do something together, even if it was only sleeping. Early in your relationship, there had been a number of rescheduled or incomplete dates, but the offending party would make it up to the other with their favorite cupcake the following day. In all honesty you were surprised that you hadn't gained a tonne of weight because of the quantity of cake you had consumed.

It wasn't long before you knew that Bucky was the one for you and you apprehensively admitted your feelings to him. To your immense relief, he reciprocated those feelings and in no time at all you'd moved in together and were filling out tax returns like an old married couple. It was incredible how well you synced with each other, in spite of your differences. A difference that was evident on this auspicious evening.

When carrying out a task that needed concentration and an arduous undertaking, you liked to be comfortable, meaning you immediately changed into one of your chemise nightgowns. Bucky on the other hand felt the only way to concentrate was to roll up his shirt sleeves and dig in in full professional garb. He often said that staying in ‘character’ helped him focus.

Neither of you objected particularly to the other's choices, particularly when Bucky was wearing suspenders with his suits. You would never dare admit it, but you had developed an overwhelming fondness for seeing your sweetheart in suspenders. One might even describe it as a kink.

Before meeting Bucky, you had never met anyone under the age of 70 wearing suspenders. You considered it to be a quirk of many of your elderly patients. But for some reason, Bucky made it look like the height of fashion. Many a time you found yourself wondering what it would be like to grab a hold of the elasticated straps and pull him into your arms. Today happened to be one of those many distracting occasions that left you dazed and very much aroused. It was several moments before you acknowledged the fact that Bucky was leaning across the table in an attempt to meet your gaze.

"Hey there, doll," he gave you that lopsided grin that drove you nuts. "What happened to 'we must focus' and 'get this done tonight'?"

The flush on your face deepened.

"What's going on in that brain of yours? You're kinda quiet."

You bit your lip, treating him to a coy smile. "I just have other things on my mind."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Just admiring how handsome my boyfriend looks."

"You looked like you were looking straight through me, not at me."

"Bucky, let's get back to this paperwork."

"No."

"No?"

"I want you to tell me what you were thinking about." His tone was low and commanding. Almost as though he already knew the dirty thoughts that had crossed your mind.

You felt your pulse quicken. "May I plead the fifth, counselor?"

"No, doll. You're under my jurisdiction now. You're under oath to speak the truth."

"The whole truth?"

"Nothing but the truth."

"So help me God?"

"I'll be the only one here that can help you. Now tell me what you were thinking."

"How about I show you?" Rising from your chair, you sauntered over to Bucky's side of the large oak desk.

Sliding into his lap, you ran your fingers along the elastic straps of his suspenders, tracing the small grooves and indentations of the springy material.

"See something you like, doll?"

The groan that escaped your lips was nothing short of sinful. You wrapped one strap in each of your empty fists and tugged at them forcefully, pulling Bucky towards you until his mouth was barely an inch from yours. All words were forgotten on your part.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice so low you could barely make out his words through the carnal desire in his voice.

His lips were so close, you could practically taste a whiff of that last cup of coffee he had swallowed before leaving work. You watched the steely blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils expanded with arousal. Bucky's hands settled on either side of your face, his skin was on fire, or maybe it was yours, it was impossible to tell.

His lips brushed against yours lightly, so soft and it sent shivers through your nerves, shivers that made your whole body tremble. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you said nothing, he pressed his lips on yours a little harder, leaving a slightly sloppy kiss on your mouth. “How about now?” he asked. He traced a solitary finger along the line of your cheekbone. “Or now-”

The rest of his words were lost against your mouth. He kissed you gently, carefully, but it wasn’t gentleness you wanted, not now, not when it had been so long, and you knotted your fists tighter around his suspenders, pulling him harder against you. He groaned softly, low in his throat, and his arms circled you, gathering you against him.

All you wanted was Bucky, you wanted to feel him, all of him, pressing into you. You inhaled, breathing in his shaving cream, his cologne, that extra scent that was just...Bucky. The aroma was intoxicating and you were dizzy with desire to take him in. Parting your lips, you invited him. His tongue deftly entered your mouth, forcefully searching every possible crevice, teasing, tantalizing, tasting your unique flavor.

His hands slipped under the hem of your chemise, gently gliding his long digits across your sensitive abdomen, before moving them to your bountiful breasts, enjoying the way you whimpered and writhed every time he flicked one of your perky nipples. The electrifying sensations traveled through your body culminating in your arousal pooling in the meager piece of material covering your leaking lips. Before you had time to object, Bucky’s hands were splayed across the inside of your thigh, fingers creeping ever closer to your clothed clit.

"Mmm, objection," you hummed into his mouth.

Bucky unlocked his lips from yours, surprise and disappointment evident on his face. "Ok, I know, we have to get this done," he took his hand off your thigh and waved at the paperwork on the desk.

"Eager much?" your smirk insinuating at your meaning. You laughed and snapped one of his suspenders lightly. With the other hand, you swept your fingers over the bulge in his pants. "I have a counter argument."

"Oh?"

"Let me show you." Seductively, you slipped off his lap and knelt down between his legs. Looking up at his face, you watched the look of comprehension spread across his handsome features.

"Are you sure?" he asked, somewhat apprehensively.

"Certain." The bulge seemed to be growing before your very eyes, straining at the seams of his pricey pants. "I've missed how you taste."

Bucky sucked in a breath in anticipation of your actions, eyes wide as you unzipped his pants and freed his hardening cock. Gently, you trailed your fingers up and down his shaft. "It's your turn to tell me what you want me to do to you."

"You know what I like, doll."

That you did. "I want to run my tongue over every inch of you." Lowering your head, you took him into your mouth, warm and soft, you took a moment to savor his taste. You hummed with appreciation, your tongue flickered and danced around the tip and instantly you felt him swelling and growing hard for you, his cock filling your mouth with every lick.

You pulled back slightly as the head of his cock started to push against the back of your throat. "Tell me how good it feels. I want to hear you say it."

He groaned. The sound excited you, his body was coming alive for your mouth. You reached up to his chest, slipping your hand under the suspender strap and pushed down on his nipple.

"Oh doll, nobody has ever fucked me like you do," he cried as you worked your tongue over his frenulum. Bucky responded just as you wanted, the taste of pre-cum seeped into your mouth. He arched his back, eyes rolling backwards with pleasure.

Your free hand curled around his now rock hard member, with a loose grip, you gently moved your hand up and down encouraging the flow of more pre-cum from his tip to lubricate your actions and elicit the most ungodly moans from your boyfriend.

Hearing Bucky groaning so obscenely sent a tingle through your clit. After a pause, you tilted your head to take him further into your mouth, bobbing up and down with ease. His fingers mingled with your luscious locks as he guided your head gently as he tried not to trust too deeply into your throat. Bucky knew you often struggled to take him in completely and that he had to take care to not get too carried away in his bliss.

It wasn't until he started cursing quietly under his breath in a way that made you come undone. You removed your mouth from his cock, "Buck, I can’t wait any longer… please I need you to fuck me."

"Doll, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow." He stood suddenly and pulled you to your feet effortlessly.

"Buck-" you whined. "Please, I need you. Touch me."

"Turn around."

You obeyed. His erection pressed against you was more than you could bear.

"Buck, fuck me like you mean it."

"I always mean it," he growled into your ear. He pushed you forward onto the desk, forcing you onto your elbows. Your chemise rose up as you bent over the thick table, exposing your ass. His cock rested comfortably between your thighs, eagerly twitching, ready for action. Your dripping wet pussy literally begged for it.

Bucky tugged at the strip of material that was the only thing keeping him from entering you. "Is this ok?"

"Oh God, yes," you exclaimed. At any other time, you may have been ashamed of your wanton cries, but right now you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel Bucky pushing into you, filling you up, making you pulse with pleasure around him in that way that no one else could compare.

"Not God, just me," he smirked.

At what felt like an excruciating slow pace, Bucky stroked your slit with his tip, collecting the succulent elixir that you had made, just for him. As he touched your clit, you shuddered deeply and gasped. You closed your eyes and focused on the ecstatic sensations that shot through your body as your opening stretched in receipt of his cock.

It was a good thing you were half sprawled across the sturdy table because your legs felt like jelly and would give way at any moment. As if Bucky could hear your thoughts, he curled his fingers around your hips, the tips pressed into your flesh salaciously.

"Oh Buck! I want you all the way inside me, give me all of you."

"Is that what you like, doll?"

"Yes, you know that’s what I like."

"I hope you're ready for this, because I know I am," Bucky purred.

He certainly was. He didn't hesitate in plunging himself further into you like sheathing a sword to its hilt. The force made you gasp with pain and surprise and the grimace on your face didn't go unnoticed. Bucky bent forwards, his abdomen pressed against your back and asked, "too much?"

"Tad too fast," you answered. "I may have been a little too hasty about what I asked for."

His new position had relieved some of the pressure and you felt a lot more comfortable and ready for him to try again. Bucky's breath was hot on your back and the wave of pain was now ebbing away, replaced by your impatient longing.

"Let's try something different, shall we?"

His fingers crept around you until he found your clit. Bucky encouraged you to spread your legs by nudging your knees apart. Slowly, his digits struck up a steady pace rhythm of slow movements, starting below and dragging up again and again, until your the bundle of nerves was flushed and firm under his fingers and your juices started leaking out around him. Not until your hips start undulating did Bucky try pushing back inside you. You had to admire his self control as he made you unravel with the smallest flick of his finger.

"Buck-"

"Doll?"

"If you keep fingering me like that, this is going to be over before you get the chance to have any fun."

"Watching you cum is extremely fun for me."

"You feel so delicious inside me, but I need you to fuck me with your cock."

Bucky was only too happy to oblige. Proceeding with caution, he pushed slowly until he was fully inside you. A burning sensation radiated through you as you stretched to let him in.

"How does that feel?" he asked slightly apprehensively.

"Exquisite!" you sighed.

You shifted to make yourself comfortable before Bucky pulled out slowly, leaving you feeling empty inside. But you didn't have to wait long before he was thrusting back half inside you, making you gasp and moan. It was almost too much for Bucky, he was already struggling to control himself but he held back, wanting to give you as much pleasure as possible for as long as possible. In and out, he moved further with each thrust until he was sliding all the way into you, hands roaming over your exposed back.

“Bucky. Buck...” you murmured.

“Doll, a little louder for those of us in the back.”

“Does it turn you on?” you smiled.

“You’ll be screaming my name by the end of the night.” He rutted against you sharply in an unexpected rhythm.

“Haha, you’re going to have to do better than tha-ahh,” you struggled to complete your answer as he slipped one hand between your

thighs.

"Come on," he coaxed you by edging his fingers up your leg.

"Make me cum, counselor."

"On one condition."

"Name. It."

"You know what I want doll. Let me give you a taste of what you want." Devilishly, your boyfriend slipped his hand between your folds and gave your throbbing clit a few small flicks.

"Buck-uhhhh."

"That's right doll, just a little more," he grunted, starting to come undone himself. "Oh fuck, just a little more."

"Just a little more, Bucky!"

You pushed down against the hand he had clamped over your clit as he pounded against you mercilessly, all speech forgotten. Both of you panted and pumped away each chasing your release. There is was, that all too familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach. It spread through you like lightening, permeating every fiber of your being. "Bucky, oh Bucky, I'm-" you cried out.

Your walls fluttered around him pushing him to the brink of ecstasy. His thrusts became more and more erratic as you tightened around him. Your whole body shook with pleasure. "Bucky!"

The sound of you screaming his name in euphoria was what made him pulse inside you. Arching his back, Bucky spilled his hot milky load while chanting your name under his breath.

Neither of you moved for the longest time, you sprawled across the table with Bucky bent over your limp form.

"Buck," you finally worked up the energy to speak.

"Mmmm?"

"I wish you could be inside me forever."

"Wouldn't that be nice," he smirked at the very thought.

For a few more moments, neither of you moved.

"Buck?"

"Mmmm?"

"I think my arm fell asleep."

You could feel the rumble of his laughter flow into you. He slowly extricated himself from you, now you were only connected by the thin trail of his creamy elixir.

Bucky gripped your waist as you clumsily lowered yourself off the desk. "Looks like we made a mess of this." He waved his hand at the scattered receipts that were now strewn all over the table top.

"Next time don't wear suspenders if you want to avoid interruptions," you admonished him playfully while pulling your chemise back down to a comfortable position.

"Seriously, that's what turns you on?" Bucky wiped himself off and tucked himself back into his pants.

"They make you look distinguished!" You sighed and wrapped your hands around the offending article of clothing.

"So how would you feel if I put on some plaid pajamas?" Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you should hold me responsible for what happens to you." Smiling, you pulled at the straps and led your bemused boyfriend to bed.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction

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gguk-n · 2 months ago

Note

can you write lando norris x desi!reader!gf where they go back to celebrate ganesh chaturthi, and yn hosts ganapati bappa in her own house in india and its lando's first time pleaseee

Festive Hearts

Jalebi- dessert made of flour or flour and rice flour fried and dipped in sugar syrup. Kurta Pajama- Indian attire for men made of various material which includes a tunic and a loose fitting pant. Shalwar Kameez- Similar to Kurta Pajama but for women. Pooja- A Hindu ritual of worship.

I'm not an expert when it comes to this so please forgive me if there are any discrepancies

Lando and Y/N had been dating for a while now, long enough that her family knew about Lando, he was very well loved. That's how he ended up in India during Ganesh Chaturthi. Lando wasn't there on the day Ganapati Bappa was being brought into the house due to the race. He got there a few days before the immersion. Lando was like a kid in a candy store. Everything was bright and vibrant. The whole house was decorated in flowers and lights. There was always delicious and new food for him to eat. "Babe, my trainer's gonna hate me" he told his girlfriend while munching on his third jalebi. "These are delicious. Do you eat these every day?" he mumbled with food in his mouth. "No, Lan, no one eats these every day." she laughed. "Your mum keeps handing them to me, I don't know how to say no." he looked at her apologetically. Y/N called her mum out to stop feeding her boyfriend.

There were a lot of Formula One fans in Y/N's home town which meant Lando got recognised and asked for pictures and autographs. Y/N's family was the one hosting Ganapati Bappa this year in their community. So, there was always a crowd of people going in and out of the house, and now Lando brought another crowd along too. But he wasn't complaining, he wanted to get to know the people that got to see his love grow up.

On the day of the immersion, Lando was dressed in a white crisp Kurta Pajama and his girlfriend wore shalwar kameez. The family had woken up early and were busy in preparation since the auspicious time was during the mid-day. Lando could see his girlfriend running around trying to get the things ready for the ritual. Y/N's dad handed Lando some flowers and desserts for offering and asked him to put it away. There was this energy that was running through everyone's veins as the time drew closer. A sense of emotions over took them, it was like watching your family leave for some time.

There would a huge procession leaving with Ganapati Bappa after the Pooja. There would be songs and people would dance along the way from the house to the sea, where Ganapati Bappa would be immersed in the water. Y/N's siblings took Lando along with them to dance. Y/N had only seen Lando dance in clubs and now she could see him dance along with her siblings, learning as he went. It was a beautiful sight with Ganapati Bappa over looking everyone as they partook in the celebrations. "He's a keeper" her mother said. Y/N jumped from surprise. "When did you get here?" she asked. "Just now" her mother replied fondly looking at Lando. "He has really been trying since he got here" her mother spoke more to herself. "To get everyone to like him." she hummed. "Do you like him?" Y/N asked expectantly. "We liked him when you said you loved him" her mother replied. Y/N smiled at her mother and decided to join everyone in the celebrations.

After everything was done, and everyone returned; the house in disarray. Her mother started cleaning up while the others joined. Finally, Lando laid on the cot in the courtyard exhausted from the day's events. Y/N sat near his head playing with his hair. "Do you guys do this every year?" he asked looking up; "yup" she replied. "This is so much fun but I've never been more exhausted in my life and I've driven in Singapore." he chuckled. "You'll get used to it" she hummed, checking around before pressing a kiss to Lando's lips. "Spiderman kiss" Lando mumbled as he placed his hand on her neck pulled her closer. Y/N's mum coughed making the pair pull away, a blush visible on their cheeks. "I get you two love each other, but there's still some cleaning left" she said while the two whined and Y/N got up to help her mum. "Rest for some time and then join me" she told Lando before pecking his cheek and walking away.

Sorry this was short, I felt kind of lost.

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drabblesandimagines · 10 months ago

Text

Elevation

Leon Kennedy x female reader More of my fluffy nonsense

Hunnigan slams the phone down into the cradle at the end of her call and if you hadn’t already been casting auspicious glances up at the scene before you, her actions would’ve made you jump.

“What is it, Leon?” Hunnigan’s tone is blunt.

It would be so easy to look up at the handsome DSO agent then. You’d be perfectly within your right to look up too, your desk opposite sat directly opposite Hunnigan’s so you had ring-side side seats to the commotion. It wouldn’t look odd - he’d be in your eyeline, after all - but you fight the temptation, keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, fingers tapping idly away over the keyboard as you transpose to the screen.

Exactly what you’ve been doing the past ten minutes that Leon Kennedy has been wandering around the office, dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans today, his gun holster peeking out from underneath a beloved leather jacket, directing all attention to a certain pair of assets.

Not that you were keeping track of how long he’d been there, of course, you had work to do.

“Huh?” For someone who had apparently been waiting on her call finishing, Leon’s thoughts seems elsewhere.

“I said,” Hunnigan adjusts her tone, “can I help you with something?”

“Does there have to be something? Surely a guy can just come visit his favourite FOS agent.”

“But you haven’t come to visit, you’ve come to loiter.” Hunnigan retorts. “I told you already, if I have anything for you, I will be in contact. Go home.”

There’s an incredulous scoff as he tries to think of a reason to stay, but it quickly transforms into a sigh as he admits defeat. “Fine.”

He begins his retreat towards the exit and you hear the tell-tale beep of his pass against by the door panel, the electronic lock then clunking in release.

“Have a good afternoon, ladies.”

You look up then – and only then - to find him looking directly at you. You give him a polite smile in return. “You too.”

He grins in return, a proper one that makes his eyes crease, before giving you a nod and a wave as he through the door. The smile stays on your lips as you reach for your mug of coffee – now ice cold - and take a sip.

“I think he likes you, you know?” Hunnigan states in her oh-so-nonchalantly way, making you choke on the gulp you’d just taken.

“What? No…! I mean, who?” Your voice is tight in response from having swallowed the liquid the wrong way, internally cursing. Smooth, real smooth.

“Leon.” The agent continues hammering away at her keyboard, kindly ignoring your attempts at being subtle.

“I don’t know where you’ve drawn that conclusion from.” You don’t – you really don’t. You could probably count the amount of conversations the two of you have had with all of your fingers, all just pleasantries.

“I’ve worked with him for years now and he’s never been here as much since your transfer started.”

“Coincidence, I’m sure. He just seems eager for work.”

Hunnigan goes to open her mouth in response when, thankfully, the phone on her desk rings. Saved by the bell.

Being afraid of elevators had never really been an issue until you had taken this assignment, being sent to work on the 12th floor. At the very least it’s proving to be a good workout the number of times a day you now trudge up and down the stairwell from your desk to the archives below. The DSO holds a surprising amount of paper copies of intel in the basement – both handwritten and old typewriter documents - secured behind a vault door, rumours of the place being rigged to ignite in flames if an intruder is detected to prevent it all from falling into the wrong hands.

The DSO board had decided that intel should now be stored in the government-secured cloud and on paper and you’d been brought in as an archivist/analyst hybrid, on loan from the CIA. The project you’d been tasked with, single-handedly, was transferring intel that was currently only held in those paper copies to the online system. There was technology that could do but it wasn’t perfect – scrawled handwriting would often prove indecipherable by most machines or it misread words, so everything would need quality checked. It was agreed a human touch was best and your name had come up after the CIA had undertaken a similar audit of their files a few years ago to excellent results. Once everything had been digitized, it had become easier to quickly identify any links between incidents past and present – using surnames, terms, intel – and even stopped a handful of potential ones, so the DSO had been keen to put the practice in place.

It did mean, however, that every day you’d go down to the vault, select a box of paperwork – either the one you’ve got partway through or a whole new one - trudge back up the many flights of stairs, and then start typing from page to screen to produce a digitized document. It was imperative that no-one else see the documents, so they’d set you up in Hunnigan’s office as one of their most trusted agents.

Wanting to look professional whilst in the office but not break your neck on the stairs, you kept a selection of heels in your locker to swap out of for your reliable sneakers. Hunnigan was still working away when you packed up around 7pm, kicking off your heels to switch out, and had been in a lengthy, hushed tone call for the past hour. You nodded your head as you heaved the box of documents up in your arms, and she waved back in acknowledgement.

Beeping your ID card at the door, the lock buzzed and the door opened automatically – a godsend as the box you had today was particularly heavy – everything within held in those awful arch-lever folders.

As you emerged, you heard the puff of the elevator doors beginning to slide shut, not even giving it a moment of thought. You turned to the left to head down the stairs as usual, when a gloved hand slammed between the elevator doors, preventing them from closing with a thud and giving you a start, turning to see a face.

The face of Leon S Kennedy catches you entirely by surprise. He hadn’t even been by the office today to bother Hunnigan, though you know he does have his own desk somewhere in the building, maybe even his own office. He smiles at the sight of you, beckoning you over.

“Hey. Hop on in - I’m going down.”

You hesitate at the invitation. You haven’t been in an elevator for years and he’s just stood there, waiting, holding the door open. You have to say or do something. “You okay?”

Next thing you know, as if you’d been hypnotized, you were walking towards the elevator, then stepping over the threshold into a place you swore you never would enter again.

“Basement?” Leon fingers hover over the button panel in anticipation.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He presses the buttons for ground and basement simultaneously with two fingers, and the door slides shut with another puff of air.

The elevator and your stomach begin to descend in unison.

This is fine.

“Looks heavy. Can I…?” He gestures to the box, offering to take it.

“Oh, thanks, but it’s okay.” You bump the box up with your knee, trying to strengthen your grip on it. Your palms are sweaty, but you’re not sure if the cause is the elevator or the handsome man besides you.

Leon crosses his arms, leans back against the wall. “They still not given you a lackey to do all the grunt work? I thought that’s what they took on interns for these days.”

“It’s difficult when no-one else is meant to handle it, let alone see it but me.” Leon gives you a quizzical look at that. “It’s protocol, narrows down the potential for leaks. If anything gets out, it’s on my head, so…”

“What about when you take breaks? You don’t…”

You nod, shifting the box in your arms again. Why do they feel like jelly? “Gotta lug it back downstairs to be locked back in the vault.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Mm-mm. It’s fine – good exercise for me, I guess, between sitting at the desk all day, so…”

“Surely they could at least give you a desk closer to the grou-“

The elevator’s smooth descent is transformed into a shudder, followed by a loud metallic screech and a sharp jerk that makes your stomach truly drop before all motion halts. No, no, no, no.

“Huh.” Leon muses, calm as anything. He immediately presses the emergency call button, illuminated in red, but the only sound that emits out of the speakers is static. He presses it again to the same result, and then in rapid succession, as if that’ll coerce it into working.

You tighten your grip on the box, wanting to tell him to stop but, thankfully, he gives up before you can have the strength to find your voice and pulls his cell out from his pocket.

“Damn, no reception.” He looks back over to you then with a sympathetic smile. “Well, this is one way to get overtime outta us, hey?”

There’s no chance to reply before the elevator plunges into darkness and you drop the box immediately, thankfully away from your feet. It can only be a few seconds at the most but it feels like an eternity before the emergency lighting comes on, casting the small metal prison in a pale yellow hue.

Leon’s staring at you, looking concerned. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” You reply, not at all convincingly. You bend down to pick up the box to escape that blue-eyed gaze for a moment, heaving it back up in your arms. “Is this… normal for this office?” You hope he can’t hear how tight your voice is.

“Power must be down, seems like the back-up generator kicked in.” The agent shrugs, looking around the elevator as if something of use might be around. “It’ll prioritize the critical systems – so I’d guess lights, vending machines and elevators are not gonna be particularly high up on that list.”

“Wonderful.” You reply, breathily. It’s warm. Should it be warm? “Here, let me just…” Leon reaches over and gently tugs the box from your weak grip, no sign of surprise at the weight of it as he takes it. “We don’t know how long we’ll be in here, so let’s put this down.”

“No, I shou-“

“I promise I’m not going to try and read any of it.”

You watch him as he places it down, he’s sure to bend with his knees rather than his back, and tucks it into the corner under the button panel, out of the way. He stands back up to his full height, looking at you for a response, but all you manage is a shaky nod.

“Are you feeling okay?” “Y-yeah. Fine.” “Mm. Not a great liar.” He tilts his head, scanning you with his eyes once more. “What’s the matter?” “I…” Another swallow in the hopes of your mouth not feeling so dry. “I don’t like elevators. Always take the stairs.” “Oh.” Not the answer he was expecting it seems. “Wait, why’d you get in, then?” “Well, er…” You hesitate again, how do you answer that? “You… You told me to.”

He can’t help the goofy smile that crosses his face. “Huh, that’s all it takes? Interesting. I’ll have to remember that.”

You’re about to ask him what that’s supposed to mean, the words just on the tip of your tongue when the elevator jerks and they turn into a shriek. It’s over before it even begins, really, but Leon’s reflexes now have you pressed up against the wall, his arms braced above your head to protect it from any sort of impact.

“It’s all right,” he says, softly. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Your heart is beating too fast, tears burn at your eyes at the fright. He’s so close, you can smell his cologne – musky, hints of vanilla – but this isn’t where you want to be having this moment.

“How about we sit down, huh?”

“I’m okay.” Your answer is breathy again, your chest feeling tight. Panting like you’d finished climbing up 12 flights of stairs.

“It’ll be more comfortable.”

“Don’t wanna…” You try and take a deep inhale, but it doesn’t seem to reach the bottom of your lungs. “Don’t wanna s-shake it.”

“You won’t.” He drops his arms from against the wall and instead grabs your hand, squeezes it in an attempt to ground you. “Trust me.”

You want to trust him, but the panic is too strong. This was such a bad idea, why did you do this?

“I…”

“We’ll do it together, okay?” He somehow coaxes you to shuffle forward and then slips in behind you, taking hold of your other hand. “Just lean against me and we’ll ease on down.”

Leon presses his chest firmly up against your back and you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating. He wraps his arms around your waist next, meaning you’re hugging yourself in a way before he slides down against the elevator wall, bringing you down with him, onto the carpeted elevator floor. He thought it was a seamless maneuverer, but the way he’d felt your nails dig into his leather gloves from how tight your grip was, he knew you weren’t of the same opinion.

“There we go.” His thighs are spread either side of yours, now that you’re nestled inbetween his legs. “Worried you were gonna pass out – you’d gone really pale. Just sit here and concentrate on your breathing a minute, okay? Feel how I’m doing it.”

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on how he’s breathing, feeling his chest expand as he inhales, loudly and deliberately through his nose, holds the breath, then exhales heavily through his mouth, tickling the back of your neck.

You try and mimic him, get your inhales and exhales in sync and, slowly, the pressure begins to ease in your chest as you feel your breaths get deeper and deeper.

"Feeling a little better?”

His voice reverberates from his chest being pressed up against your back, feels comforting. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. My fault you’re in here, after all.” He replies, gently. “I’m gonna move now, okay? Wanna check you’ve got the colour back in your cheeks.”

You nod, and he somehow manages to shuffle back and to the front of you with overly cautious movements – definitely for your benefit, ever the gentleman - withdrawing his legs into a crossed position and giving you a smile as he takes in your appearance. Being so fixed in his gaze makes your cheeks prickle with heat – maybe not the colour he’d hoped to be checking.

“Yeah, you’re looking better. Good.” He nods in affirmation, more to himself than you. “That noise – I think someone was trying to get the power back on, sounds like it only worked for a second before it could get going. The elevator’s not gonna fall.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had to disable some of them before – for work, I mean. They’re all equipped with multiple failsafe systems to prevent that exact scenario.”

“Disable them?”

“Just so they stop…” He gestures in a circle as he tries to find the words, “elevating, I guess, so I’m not pursued. Make ‘em take the stairs.”

“Ah, right.” You nod. “Wind them a bit.”

“Exactly. If you don’t mind me asking, you always been afraid of them?”

“No. Got stuck in one in an old apartment block years ago – it didn’t feel particularly modern. There were three of us – me and two drunk guys who kept jumping up and down, convinced that would make it move. The fire department got us out after two hours cos I had one of those… episodes. Haven’t been in one since.”

“Idiots.”

“They just kept laughing the more panicked I got. I felt so stupid.”

“Panic attacks are no joke. That box breathing always helps me if I feel on edge, though.”

“Yeah, that was really good.” You feel a shy smile creep over your face. “If I had to get suck in an elevator with anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

He practically beams. “Now I don’t feel quite so bad. I’ve gotta ask again though, you really got in here just because I said to?” He’s already seen you a panicking mess, so why not just be honest? “Your smile helped too.” “Well, consider me flattered.”

“It’s a nice smile…” You swallow, a little cautious of the next word. “Enticing.”

You swear you see a smidge of colour flush Leon’s cheeks then, but it must be a trick of the artificial lights. “Well, since we’re confessing – yours is too. That’s the real reason I was bothering Hunnigan. Wanted to see if I could win another.”

“You came to see me smile?” You’re definitely blushing now – cheeks prickling with the heat.

“Guilty. I don’t think you’d remember, but a week or so back I was having a real shitty day. Went to go debrief with Hunnigan and she wasn’t there, but you were. When I stormed in, you just gave me the best and most genuine smile I’d seen in days. Meant a lot.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

You smile again, can’t help it, and he groans, jokingly. “Ugh, see? Not again – I don’t think my heart can take how sweet it is.”

You don’t know what to say to that but you’re excused when, suddenly, the lights transition overhead with a flicker from the emergency dulled tones to the standard, harsh fluorescent light and the elevator begins its smooth descent once more.

“Finally, huh?” Leon gets up easily to his feet and then offers you a hand.

“Yeah.” You accept it without hesitation, goosebumps prickling up your arm as he wraps his fingers around your hand and he pulls you up with ease. Slyly, his other hand now rests on the small of your back, drawing you in close…

The elevator dings, announcing its arrival on the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal a maintenance worker, clad in blue overalls, waiting in the lobby. Leon draws back then, but still keeps his hand steady on your back.

“You two all right? Power-cut had rotten timing, I was gonna repair that emergency speaker tonight when most of the office was cleared out.”

“All good, thanks.” Leon bends down, picks up the box again without question and you follow him out of the elevator in pursuit, only to hear a cell begin to ring from his pocket. He balances the box with one arm – you’ve no idea how – and pulls out the device, frowning at the name on screen.

“Sorry, I’ve really gotta take this.” His brows furrow in annoyance. “You be okay with taking that downstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I really should take it back now anyway, you know, just in case…” You trail off as he eases the box over to you, making sure you’ve got it properly before he lets go. “Thanks… for everything.”

“Pleasure was all mine.” He replies, sincerely, before reluctantly lifting the cell up to his ear.

“Kennedy.”

You leave him to his phone-call and head down the stairs for a thankfully unremarkable trip down to the vaults to replace the box back in its rightful place. It’d be a lie to say when you climbed back up to the lobby that you weren’t disappointed when there’s no trace of him to be found.

The next morning, after passing through the security check, you make your way down to the archive vault as usual, pressing your hand against the door panel to gain access. Sadly, you’ve still got a lot of work to do in the box you’d been working on yesterday, so you dutifully log its withdrawal in the computer system, and heave it up once more in your arms before heading out.

You only make it up one flight of stairs when you see him, leaned up against the stairway wall, one arm held against his chest whilst his other hand is holding his cell, squinting at some text. He looks up as you scuff your trainer on one of the steps and he smiles as you reach him, tucking his cell back away.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. What brings you here?” You curse inwardly. “I mean, not that it’s not a pleasant surprise, just…”

He waves it off. “I getcha. Well, I have some pretty good sway here, you know, so I’ve volunteered.”

“Volunteered for what?”

“Volunteered…” He steps forward and wraps his arms around the box, “..to be your stairs lackey.”

“Oh, no – it’s fine, honestly.” You feel flustered at the very idea. Leon’s one of the top, if not the top agent of the DSO. He can’t be doing manual labour for you, he shouldn’t. “You have so many better things to be doing. I can mana…”

“Please?” He tilts his head, gives you that enticing smile again. “I mean, I could just tell you,” – he teases – “but I thought I’d ask this time, so you’re sure.”

The smile makes you feel weak at the knees and you’d already proven yesterday you couldn’t resist its magic. “Okay. But you should definitely take the elevator then.”

“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head, taking the box into his arms. “It’s good cardio, got my weight-resistance. You’re practically doing me a favour by taking the stairs.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm. Though,” he bites his lip in a pause, “I may have ulterior motives.”

“Right, and what would those be?”

“If I were to, say, visit the office around six tonight and carry this thing back down to the vault, maybe you’d go to dinner with me?”

God, you feel absolutely giddy - there’s no way you can hold back your smile. “I think that’s… acceptable.”

“Then we have a deal. Ladies first,” he nods with his head to up the stairwell.

“No, I… I think you should go first. Just so I can keep an eye on you on the way up. I’ve got to make sure you’re not sneaking a peek at the assets, you know?”

He quirks an eyebrow, you know he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he shrugs it off all the same. “As you wish.”

And as you follow him up 12 flights of stairs, you slightly breathless and him seemingly fine, you can’t help but sneak a look at a different pair of assets before you.

---

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi/Commissions

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x you

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inkdemonapologist · 6 months ago

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FINALLY got these scribbles from last session of the Cthulhu game scanned in lmao, THINGS HAVE BEEN SO BUSY but cthulhu has been very exciting!!

While looking for some Alan Leroy guy to figure out why the Phantom is following(?) him(?), we asked around with (a) his book club friends and (b) the mob, as one does. Sammy managed to avoid seeing the yellow sign when he realised very quickly what Cool Obscure Book this book club pal might be describing (unlike Jack, a polite boy who does not RAPIDLY AVERT HIS EYES FROM HIS CONVERSATIONAL PARTNER), but did not manage to avoid being hustled off by the mob to talk to The Boss when Henry asked just a few too many questions. it went fine but Sammy was SO STRESSED, HES ALREADY BEEN KIDNAPPED BY GANGSTERS ONCE HE DOESNT WANT TO DO IT AGAIN

also hes still cute in this hat. you should wear hats more often sammy. ANYWAY if you're here for Out of Context quotes from this session, I GOT EM RIGHT HERE UNDER THE CUT:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] He will mention to Henry, something about "Oh boy, dreams are starting up again" kind of thing. [Henry] Yyyyup. [Henry] Don't get possessed again. [Sammy] [Sammy] i dON'T THINK SAMMY KNOWS WHAT TO DO WITH THAT!! The last time he got possessed was BY PROPHET, whom he still shares a body with!! [Henry] Prophet doesn't count! Don't get possessed by anyone else. [Sammy] .... I'LL DO MY BEST, [Sammy] I just like the idea of Henry being like 'don't get possessed' and Sammy just LOOKS at him, like............ I'm already possessed, what are you talking about

[Sammy] Given how these things like to happen on auspicious days, I'm a little worried about New Years,

[Joey] That's exactly the spin he's going to put on it -- Some time off for New Years, and a bonus day off to recover from the celebrations! [Jack] Gotta account for those, now that drinking's back!

[Henry] Oh good, I was really worried Joey would call Norman and get a "who are you?" [Jack] Norman DOES do that, but just because he thinks it's funny. [GM] That's possible, yeah, [Sammy] Oh my gosh. I believe it, is the thing. [GM] I do too, honestly... this might just be a thing that happens.

[GM] And the studio seems normal, and nobody got kidnapped in the night, not even Norman, and Henry's family is safe -- things are doing so good! [Jack] Nobody that we're currently in contact with got kidnapped in the night! [GM] That's true. [Jack] I'm not ruling out Bertrum getting kidnapped. [Jack] ...unrelated to the Carcosa nonsense, he just got kidnapped. [GM] That's what he gets for hanging out with the mob. [Jack] Sorry, I mean, "The Great Bertrum Piedmont." Have to use his full and official title. [GM] That's how you get him un-kidnapped, he just breaks through a wall to correct you. [Jack] *laughing* The Kool-Aid Bert................ [GM] The Great Kool-Aid Piedmont, [Jack] Now that's fanart I don't want to see.

[GM] Welcome back! We've been talking about the Great Bertrum Piedmont Kool-Aid-ing through a wall to correct you about his name. [Sammy] *startled wheezing* Okay, well it sounds like I've missed some really important developments!

[Jack] I think Jack would lean in the direction of like, they wanted to get in touch with him at the charity thing-- aaagh, that's technically not true. He's not the fast talk boy, he's not allowed to, [Sammy] I mean, he CAN fast talk, Henry does it all the time! [Jack] But does he succeed-- [Sammy] Henry's not the Fast Talk Boy but he keeps LYING anyway!!!

[Sammy] I feel like Jack is good at looking worried, and, caring about his fellow man, [Jack] I don't think he has to TRY to look worried??? [Sammy] I don't think Sammy contains these qualities. Sammy looks like he's here to arrest you. [GM] She's actually giving Sammy a concerned look, [Sammy] Sammy is HERE FOR THE PROTECTION MONEY.

[Jack] Well, this was lovely! Time to leave, because Sammy's already... vibrating against the door trying to clip through it.

[Sammy] Sammy's IMMEDIATELY going to tell him about this clarinet with the missing E flat extension. [Sammy] ....and then ALSO mention that he thinks maybe he's seen this guy before.

[Joey] Joey slightly fixes Henry's hair before they head in. [Sammy] (That's a little bit gay, but alright,) [Jack] (I think it's more than a little bit) [Joey] LISTEN, listen, Joey recognises-- [Jack] Linda's out of town! [Joey] --Joey recognises the neighbourhood,

[GM] The door gets opened pretty quickly, but the guy inside actually looks a little like he's suddenly out of his depth, because whatever he was expecting to happen is not what is happening. [Sammy] That's a common reaction to Joey Drew.

[Joey] I feel like it's not going to be a fast talk roll, actually, to make this guy feel like this is NOT a dangerous ask? So I'm gonna go with persuade instead. [GM] Are you going with the tack that you were concerned parties from the event? [Joey] I think, concerned party, perhaps leaning towards the notion that they hit it off well at the party, and -- I'm just turning it into a fast talk, [Joey] *trying again* I think Joey is leaning more into an idea that they are freshly met, but have similar interests? Or... possibly leaning into he's ...a friend of a friend and we're looking into it for that friend? [Sammy] Joey trying NOT to lie is really funny. "Oh well obviously I'll just say -- oh, I guess that's not true; I'll just -- WELL, that's not technically true either," [Joey] ADMITTEDLY, if this does turn into a fast talk roll, using the same roll it's now a BETTER SUCCESS, so, [Sammy] Just really funny how hard it is for Joey to just, HONESTLY REASSURE someone without inventing a whole narrative [Joey] I'M GOOD AT COMING UP WITH STORIES!! I'm not good at... fact-checking them first...

[Joey] Please, if you hear from him, or get any more information, please reach out to us as soon as possible, because the sooner we can prevent this, the better off he'll be -- y'know, that whole thing! [Joey] Do the most heartfelt, emotional connection he can... it's a little gay, but... [Sammy] I fully believe in Joey's ability to extoll the virtues of this man he's never met.

[Sammy] We can just check with Norman, have him peek out the window and see if it looks weird, [Joey] "Hey Norman, is your house in the right location?" [Jack] "Dunno why you called me outside just to tell me that you moved my house!"

[GM] Norman answers the door, and gives you guys a quizzical look. [Henry, out of character] :D Hey, did your house move? [Sammy, in-character] >:/ Did your house move?

[Sammy] Sammy will point out things Jack noticed as being different, as if he also noticed them. [GM] He'll turn back to you, and just kind of observe in a blase sort of way that he's apparently moved. [Jack] I love Norman,,,, [Joey] I love Norman's 89% Sanity score that never gets hit, apparently! [Jack] His sense of humour is actually an indefinite insanity. [Sammy] A constant coping mechanism, [Jack] Can't go insane when you already are!!

[Jack] Jack is, not happy about this, [GM, as Norman] He wonders if you'd like to come in for a housewarming, then.

[Sammy] Sammy's going to just catch her up on, the guy we're looking for read the play, [Sammy] Also, might be a guy that Sammy saw in New Orleans, and that might be why he knew the music?? [Sammy] ALSO, WEIRD THING with his clarinet, he doesn't have the E flat extension that you'd EXPECT HIM TO HAVE? [GM] I think Susie knows enough that she would say that's weird if he's playing seriously. [Jack] I was about to ask if this meant anything to these two-- [Joey] Norman is regaining sanity by watching Sammy rattle on about all this. [GM] He's probably chiming in opinions, too, that are completely not based in any actual musical knowledge -- [Henry] Norman just like "He's missing the E extension? Next he's gonna lose the, the F Shortener!" [GM] "What's the world coming to!" [Sammy] Sammy's giving him the most unamused look, and this is all Norman wanted. [GM] Yeah, yeah, this is how he keeps his sanity high. [Sammy] Just annoy Sammy Lawrence. That's the secret.

[Jack] Good to make sure things aren't going weirder over here-- which, uhhh, [Sammy] Which they are!!

[Sammy] That's smart, but that's also really spooky. Like okay, cool! The whole world has re-written this! Cool cool cool cool cool. [GM] He doesn't seem PLEASED about it, but he seems about normal. [Henry] He seems Norman about it. [Jack] Yeah, Normal Polk. [Jack] *cracking up* He shows up at work the next day and he's called "Normal Ponk." That's his name now.

[Jack] Reality's rewriting itself, wanna kiss about it? [Henry] Ah, Jack's okay again.

[Jack] If this was Fowler, then WHO WAS PHONE????

[GM] Well, okay, first things first, does Joey have Peter's number memorised? [Joey] HM. [Joey] ...I feel like he wouldn't admit it, but yes.

[Joey] Joey says he's going to call Peter back in a minute. And hangs up. [GM] You cut him off in the middle of some sort of response-- [Joey] Cool.

[Joey] He managed to break into a safe once by doing this! [Henry] "Break into" is... a bit of a strong phrasing. [GM] *mumbling* "Get locked inside of,"

[Joey] The main thing is, Do Not Go Alone, because if something happens to Peter... we have no way of tracking down the information that he has! We, we lose, all of his evidence! [Jack] .....and that's the ONLY thing, [Joey] Yup! [Henry] We ALSO lose his, HIM, [Joey] *mumbling* No, no that doesn't matter as much, as evidence, [Joey] It's clearly just, the fact that they lose all the benefits of having a reporter with ghost powers on their side, and NOT Peter himself, that is the issue! [Jack] iTS NOT LIKE HE CARES ABOUT YOU OR ANYTHING!!!

[Jack] *spongebob meme* You like Peter Sunstram, don't you, Joey?

[Joey] Both Henry and Sammy are the best able to get themselves out of a tough, fight-y situation, [Sammy] We can both punch, and Henry has magical power if something supernatural happens... [Joey] Also! Also, neither Joey nor Jack are there to be taken hostage and used against them! [Sammy] ... I think you're actually right. I hate to admit it, but I think you're right. [Jack] I can't wait for Jack to be kidnapped at the magic shop, you guys!

[Henry] I can't believe we're sending the two least talky boys off together to talk to the mob, [Joey] LISTEN. Henry and Sammy can go to the restaurant! Henry likes food! There we go! [GM] I can't believe Joey's just making sure Henry gets a nice meal after his shake-up earlier... [Sammy] I dunno, maybe Peter should come with us, just in ghost form. Henry can see him, potentially, [Jack] So Pete's body can... Not be where he left it when he gets back to it! [Sammy] ....hm, [Joey] *startled laughter* [Sammy] ....okay, nevermind,... [Jack] Just leave him in the car, what could go wrong! That's not disappeared MULITPLE TIMES!

[GM] Johnny Nero is of average height and build, with dark, slicked back hair, and a neatly trimmed moustache -- so not like any of the other people that you know! [GM] Wears expensive tailored suits, though. [Jack & Joey] *snickering* So, not like, any of the people you know-- [GM] It narrows it down a bit!! [Sammy] Alright, alright; bargain bin Joey Drew, got it.

[GM] You guys do get an offer to have food, while you're waiting. [Sammy] Yeah.... why not..... [Henry] Henry will, not,,, [Joey] *shocked* NO????? [Joey] *absolutely flabbergasted* FOOD!!!!! [Sammy] Gangsters don't usually poison you, they usually give you nice food and then they knock you out and throw you in the river. [Henry] WELL HENRY DOESNT KNOW THAT! [GM] He hasn't done speakeasies like Sammy has!!

[Sammy] I'm noticing that this guy actually looks really nervous, and isn't taking charge of the situation, [GM] He DOES have something that's probably a firearm in his pocket. [Sammy] Yeah, yeah, but, [Jack] It's his emotional support firearm!

[Sammy] Actually... Sammy WILL ask him if he saw it. [GM] Uh, [Sammy] Because he was RIGHT THERE looking at him. And I feel like, once you've seen it, and it does the weird thing where it gets in your head, you're not going to be confused what somebody's talking about if they ask you if you saw the yellow sign. You're going to know what that means. [GM] [GM] Are you going to say the thing...? [Sammy] Have You Seen The Yellow Sign?

[Henry] Henry is half-considering... [Sammy] *manically excited* DO YOU WANT TO TAKE THE THORN OUT OF THIS LION'S PAW, HENRY???

[Henry] You haven't been able to think straight since, have you? [GM] He kind of squints at you, because he's a gangster and he doesn't want to be like "D: YEAH, ITS BEEN REALLY ROUGH :(" [Joey] *laughs* Henry IMMEDIATELY knows this look, because Joey does this as well!

[Sammy] Push the roll!! Push push push! [Henry] *nervous* I DON'T KNOW IF I WANT TO PUSH IT,,, [Sammy] WE'RE ALREADY KIDNAPPED! WHAT ELSE CAN GO WRONG!

[Henry] We didn't get kidnapped, so it's you guys' turn! [Joey] We have the kidnapping charm with us, also known as "Jack Fain"! [Sammy] Oh I thought it was Peter Sunstram. [Sammy] [Sammy] DO THEY STACK?

[Jack] I can't wait for us to get to these spooky occult magic shops, and it's just like, "here's a bunch of overpriced tumbled gemstones and some incense!" [GM] The first one you go to is kind of that style. [Jack] Ideal! I hope they have a really tacky fake skull. [Joey] Joey is judging the whole place.

[Joey] WAIT, wait, they took you from the bar to the restaurant, and then you got the heckin' sign out of Nero's head, and he's not even gonna offer you a ride back to the bar?!? [Henry] I think what we got out of it is "not being kidnapped". [GM] JOEY is the one with the history of talking kidnappers into giving him rides, [Sammy] I do think it would be classier if he gave us a ride. I'm with Boo on this, it would be a classy gangster move. [Sammy] With that guy they kidnapped to do music for whoever's birthday party, they dropped him back off later, but, you know, it's fine, [Joey] Show your heckin' appreciation! *exasperated* THIS IS HOW WE CAN TELL HE'S AVERAGE!! [GM] Uh, lemme roll a quick like............. etiquette roll, [Sammy] Gangster Classiness, [GM] *rolls terribly* Yeah, I think he's frazzled enough -- this is gonna reflect poorly on him later. [Joey] Wow.

[Jack] Normal success for Jack! How many terrible tacky skulls do I see? [GM] Just SO many. [Sammy] This place won't help you, buddy. [Jack] I dunno, if you buy enough tacky skulls, maybe the guy won't wanna get near you. [Henry] Just throw tacky skulls at him! [Jack] A tacky skull a day keeps the pallid mask away!!

[GM] A more discerning occult collection than the other one. [Jack] The kind of place that has the more occult things like, in a locked cabinet instead of in a heap on the counter. [Sammy] In the bargain bin, [Jack] "Box of assorted random magic junk"? Yeah, I wanna rummage my hand in that, I'm not gonna get five curses, [Jack] *laughs* I'm not even AT the other place anymore and I'm still dunking on it! [Sammy] Jack's just saying these things to Joey to like, keep his spirits up. [Joey] It would be working,

[Sammy] I am curious if the restaurant is at the same address that we remember it being on. [GM] It is the same address! The name is different. [Jack] What's the new name? [GM] Lombardi's! It was Leon's. [Henry] ... some dude got his whole name changed, [Jack] Oh man, when do they do that to me, I want a legal name change! [Jack] Bringing the Yellow King into the world to get a free transition, [Sammy] No! Don't do it! He won't transition you into a human, it'll be..... something else,

[Henry] We're gonna run over the Pallid Mask. Vroom vroom motherfucker.

[GM] You do bump into something that is unyielding. [Jack] Oh no, Jack's car! [Jack] ... and also, whatever he hit, I guess!

[Joey] Joey is immediately flipping around to grab his cane; if the guy tries to get in the car, he's going to bash him in the face! and say GET OUT!! [Sammy] Well, it worked really well for Nero, so [Henry] The guy just got hit by a car and didn't move! I don't think the cane's gonna do much! [Jack] Especially not with Joey's weak noodle arms! [Joey] Yeah but he's upset!! That this guy is trying to get in the car! He was not invited in! [GM] ...make a CON roll. [Joey] [Joey] oKEY DOKEY,,,

[Sammy] Peter now is NOT the time to astral project [GM] Luckily he doesn't have that insanity currently, or he'd already be gone! [Jack] The car stops and Pete's ghost just flies through the windshield,

[Jack] I'm losing my mind... [GM] You are! 1d6 of it!

[GM] This is kind of wild magic zone, so you get some creative license. [Joey] Hmm. Hmm! Hmmmmmm... [Sammy] Oh no, you've given Joey Drew creative license,

[Joey] But when I picked out Jack's car, it's the first car that has full safety glass in it!! [Jack] [Jack] SO EVEN MORE EXPENSIVE TO REPLACE!!!

#call of cthulhu: haunted hijinx #quote post #when in doubt just keep drawing #sammy lawrence #jack fain #henry stein #last season we were sooo careful so this season we're just JUMPING RIGHT IN

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peeweekey · 5 months ago

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everyone adores you (at least i do)

pairing: sam x reader

wc: 1.1k

tags: CHEEEEESY cheesy cheesy puppy love, mutual pining, sam is PATHETICALLY down bad, pre-relationship, abigail and sebastian mentioned, friends to lovers

synopsis: if it were up to sam, he'd spend every second of everyday at your side.

a/n: in all of my other sam fics, its reader embarrassingly in love with him...he gets a taste of his own medicine here lol!

With vanilla ice cream melting and dripping down your fingertips, coarse sand underneath you and the salty ocean waves lapping at your feet; you are a child again, sitting with your grandpa at the docks, watching as he reeled in a ‘big one’. Filling his bucket with loads and loads of fish.

Those days are far gone now, but the memory remains, as clear as the day you remember it. The feeling is nostalgic, sleepy in the way your senses are dulled by syrupy thick contentment. Beaches at sunset have that effect on you, you suppose.

“This is fun,” Sam says, tone lacking its boisterous loudness, you almost don’t hear it over the sound of crashing waves. “I had a lot of fun today, farmer.”

Your eyes flicker to him, his green gaze dead-set on the peachy golden sky, the taste of sea salt mingling with sweet ice cream heavy in your tongue. The sea breeze is cold, whipping against your face and running through your hair.

“I did too,” you agree. “Y’know, I don’t get a lot of off time with the farm and stuff. This is a nice change of pace.”

He smiles, that sunshine smile you’ve come to associate with Sam. “I caught you at just the right time then, huh?”

You shrug, your own smile mirroring his. “Auspicious.” He did.

The sun is setting, the day is coming to a close yet Sam wishes it wouldn’t, silently pleading with any higher being to somehow stretch time. He is barely a religious person, but the weight of his want is enough to transcend his own beliefs. Every second with you barely feels like enough; like sand slipping through his fingers.

One thing’s for certain, Sam isn’t going to just let it end here.

“We should hang out like this again,” Sam says, a little hurriedly, captured all in one breath. Shy and tentative, like a bashful child with a school crush. “Uh, I mean, do you? Wanna? Hang out with me?”

You can barely suppress a delighted chuckle from slipping past your lips, your chest warming with fond affection. “I’d be more than happy to. Yoba knows I need a break or two or I’ll actually explode,” you huff while Sam hums in agreement. “We can even invite Abigail and Sebastian… so can demo that new song for me, I see you all working very hard when I visit sometimes.”

He should be happy to hear that; that you’d be more than happy to spend your precious off time with him out of all people. You and him, him and you, Sam and the farmer. Your name connected to his with ‘and’, it makes him giddy, causes his cheeks pinken and pinken.

Just the two of you, though. Sure, he loves his friends, Abby and Seb have been with him since day one. But it feels out of place—

(Sam, Sebastian, Abigail and the farmer doesn’t have that ring to it…)

“Yeah, I—I dunno, it’s just…”

The unfiltered truth is stupid, at least to him. Vincent is far too young for some of the things Sam longs to say. There’s a reason Abby and Seb hang out under his nose, he won’t blame them, they have their own secrets he isn’t privy to—too serious, too dull for him.

(And now with you, he thinks you might just be the one he can share his own secrets with. Because even he has his own serious, dull thoughts. Thoughts that he doesn’t want brushed away with a snarky remark or a sarcastic laugh.)

“I kinda like that it’s just the two of us?”

His voice sounds unsteady, squeaky. Trailing off at the end, lost in the sound of water crashing at your feet. Phrasing his statement into a question that you could deny, that you could easily brush off—because if you did, he would too.

(It would be a bummer if you did though, but Sam is cool with that, chill with any decision you make. Really, he totally is.)

You grin, bumping your shoulder against his, your ice cream is dripping down, down, down your knuckles. Once your skin meets his, you don’t pull away, you press closer and closer to his side. Leaning your head against his sunburnt shoulder—but he barely registers the sting—and your arm against his own. It’s a pleasant weight, having you against him—grounding and tethering him to you.

“I do too. Like it, I mean. I think I get to see so many other sides to you, Sam. Without the others and all that.”

Sam feels his breath hitch, his cheeks flush even pinker even with the sunburns. “Woah, phew, I mean—awesome… When, when do you think we can meet next?”

You tilt your head, running calculations through your mind. You’re very busy on that farm, he knows; but Sam can’t help but keep his hopes up, you’re fun company. Maybe the best he’s had yet.

“I know I won’t have enough time until my melons are ready for harvesting—and don’t you dare try making a joke about that,” you smile, wide and cheeky. Right as Sam readies an innuendo at the tip of his tongue; it makes his blood pump faster and his breathing stutters at the thought of you knowing him so well.

“So how about this?” you propose slowly. “We spend one day every month doing all the stuff we wanna do, together. just you and me—fun right? I’ll even sleep a little earlier the night before.”

Sam bites into his ice cream—chocolate and your treat, at your insistence—though he isn’t quite sure if the immediate smile on his lips is due to its sweetness, or yours.

He leans closer into you, resting his head on top of yours, strands of your hair tickling his lips. Lowering his voice into a whisper so only you can hear.

(The secret is that you make Sam want. Want, want, want like he’ll never get sick of it. He hoards these stolen moments with you so greedily yet wants more.)

“…two days, two days each month.”

He feels your body shake with the strength of your laughter, warmth swirls all throughout his body, tingling wherever your body brushes against his own. Sam finds that he likes the feeling, the buzz of it—it’s addicting.

“Yeah, alright then,” you reply, mirth dripping from each and every word. “two days. We have a deal. Better?”

“Yeah,” he turns back to face the water, the ocean spray misting his face. “Yeah, a lot better. That does sound fun.”

Anything sounds fun when it involves you.

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anotherhumaninthisworld · 1 month ago

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Historians having takes on frev women that make me go 😐 compilation

Sexually frustrated in her marriage to a pompous civil servant much older than herself, [Madame Roland] may have found Danton’s celebrated masculinity rather uncomfortable. Danton (1978) by Norman Hampson, page 77.

The Robespierres sent their sister to Arras because that was their hometown, the family home, where they had relatives, uncles, aunts and friends, like Buissart who they didn’t cease to remain in correspondence with, even in the middle of the Terror. There, among them, Charlotte would not be alone; she would find advice, rest, the peace necessary to heal her nervousness and animosity. Away from Mme Ricard, who she hated, away from Mme Duplay, who she detested, she would enjoy auspicious calmness. It is Le Bon that the Robespierres will charge with escorting their sister to this neccessary and soothing exile. […] If there is a damning piece in Charlotte Robespierre's case, it is this one (her interrogation, held July 31 1794). She seems to be caught in the act of accusing this Maximilien whom she rehabilitates in her Memoirs. She is therefore indeed a hypocrite, unworthy of the great name she bears, and which she dishonors the very day after the holocaust of 10 Thermidor. Charlotte Robespierre et Guffroy (1910) in Annales Révolutionnaires, volume 3 (1910) page 322, and Charlotte Robespierre et ses mémoires (1909) page 93-94, both by Hector Fleishmann.

Elisabeth, as she was popularly called, was barely past her twelfth birthday, younger even by three years than Barere’s own mother when she was given in marriage. On the following day the guests assembled again in the little church of Saint-Martin at midnight to attend the wedding ceremony of the handsome charmer and the bewildered child. Dressed in white, clasping in her arms a yellow, satin-clad doll that Bertrand had given her — so runs the tradition — she marched timidly to the altar, looking more like a maiden making her first communion than a woman celebrating a binding sacrament. Perhaps the doll, if doll there was, filled her eye, but certainly she could not fail to note how handsome her husband was. Bertrand Barere; a reluctant terrorist (1962) by Leo Gershoy, page 32.

The young nun who bore the name of Hébert did not hide her fate. She did not wish to prolong a life stifled from her childhood in the cloister, branded in the world by the name she bore, fighting between horror and love for the memory of her husband, unhappy everywhere. Histoire des Girondins (1848) by Alphonse de Lamartine, volume 8, page 60.

Lucile in prison showed more calmness than Camille. Before the tribunal, she seemed to possess neither fear nor hope, she denied having taken an active role in the prison conspiracy. What did it matter to her the answer they were trying to extract from her? They said they wanted her guilty? Very well! She would be condemned and join Camille. This was what she said again when she was told that she would suffer the same fate as her husband: ”Oh, what joy, in a few hours I’m going to see Camille again!” Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un couple dans la tourmente (1986) by Jean Paul Bertaud, page 293.

What did it matter to Lucile whether she was accused or defended? She had no longer any pretext for living in this world. She was one of those heroines of conjugal love who are more wife than mother. Besides, Horace lived, and Camille was dead. It was of the absent only that she thought. As for the child, would not Madame Duplessis act a mother's part to him? The grandmother would watch over the orphan. If Lucile had lived, she could have done nothing but weep over the cradle, thinking of Camille. Camille Desmoulins and his wife; passages from the history of the Dantonists founded upon new and hitherto unpublished documents (1876) by Jules Claretie.

Having been widowed at the age of 23 [sic] years, Élisabeth Duplay remarried a few years later to the adjutant general Le Bas, brother of her first husband, and kept the name which was her glory. She lived with dignity, and all those who have known her, still beautiful under her crown of white hair, have testified to the greatness of her sentiments and austerity of her character. She died at an old age, always loyal to the memory of the great dead she had loved and whose memory she, all the way to her final day, didn’t cease to honor and cherish. As for the lady of Thermidor, Thérézia Cabarrus, ex-marquise of Fontenay, citoyenne Tallien, then princess of Chimay, one knows the story of her three marriages, without counting the interludes. She had, as one knows, three husbands living at the same time. Now compare these two existances, these two women, and tell me which one merits more the respect and the sympathy of good men. Histoire de Robespierre et du coup d’état du 9 thermidor (1865) by Louis Ernest Hamel, volume 3, page 402.

Fel free to comment which one was your favorite! 😀

#frev #french revolution #frev compilation #hampson: if women were uncomfortable around danton it’s because they were sexually frustrated!#fleishmann: two men in their 30s can ultimately decide what’s best for their sister who’s also in her 30s #also it’s totally unreasonable for charlotte to disown her brothers after their death when her life was possibly in danger #(and even though they pretty much disowned her while they were still alive)#lamartine claretie bertaud: françoise and lucile wanted to die since there was no longer any point to their lives after the husbands died #hamel: a good way of finding out which side was bad and which side was good is to look over how slutty the women on each side were #wow are you seriously surprised the view of women held by 19th century authors isn’t exactly top modern?#…no comment #claretie should technically get a pass since he thought the journal of sanson was an authentic source #But it was so spectacular i couldn’t contain myself #also a shame i couldn’t remember where i read the interpretation that the reason simond évrard was wary of charlotte corday #was bc she might seduce marat when alone with him

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xfgpng · 1 year ago

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“𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲”

— : [nsfw] arranged marriage, loss of virginity, virginity kink, unprotected sex, praise kink + pet names

— wc : 4.8k

it’s an auspicious date for the ideal wedding. as ideal as a wedding can be for someone who wasn’t in the loop until a week ago. she had never dreamed of getting married, it was all too much for her but she knew her place.

her parents are far too secretive about everything and she’s only been told that the man she’ll be marrying is someone of high status.

she’s was not surprised in the least, considering her parents cared more for their status and money than they did about her wellbeing. she wonders what she would’ve done without saeko tanaka, a lovely maid servant her parents had hired when she was barely a teen and saeko had finished high school.

“dear, you know your place in society, don’t you?” her mother smiles but that smile has never reached the old woman’s eyes and it left her feeling uncomfortable.

she sometimes wondered if her parents would be more proud of her if she was a boy. she was smart and ambitious and had already graduated university with her degree but it was never enough for them.

greed was an ugly demon, always lurking close by.

“first we bow to the heavens and the earth, darling”

she woke up with a loud gasp. the air around her felt cold and damp despite it being much warmer these last few nights.

it sounded like something had whispered to her but she supposed anyone would be jumpy, preparing for a wedding they didn’t want to be apart of.

her friends were right, it was ridiculous to agree to marry someone she didn’t even know. they wouldn’t even tell her his name.

“the age of social media” her father rolled his eyes, “i don’t need you going around making a mockery of this family on that ridiculous x app you like to be on”

what about what she wanted? she knew that none of that mattered to her parents anyway so it was pointless arguing and running away would create bigger problems.

there was no way she’d be able to fall back asleep and she knew that if she tried to sneak down to saeko’s room, there was a chance she’d run into her father since he was always up in his study and she was too angry to talk to any of her parents.

“it was just a dream” saeko says, helping her prepare breakfast, “don’t read too much into it”

she did have a had habit of being a superstitious but for days she’d been having strange dreams and then she finds out she’s engaged? it felt like a warning of some sort.

“i just don’t understand why they can’t tell me anything about him” she groans, “what difference does it make? i’ll still have to marry him”

“maybe he’s a politician” saeko offers which doesn’t help ease the nerves at all. she never imagined being married to anyone that important, let alone a politician.

she wouldn’t put it past her parents though, since it would make them look good in the eyes of the public. attorney general’s daughter marrying into a prestigious family and she can only imagine the people flocking to her mothers design company.

she felt like a pawn to them.

“a red veil is compulsory dear, you know how important this is for your father and i” her mother sighs, “don’t make this difficult for yourself”

“what does he do?” she asks, “the man i’m supposed to marry”

“why does it matter?” her mother rolls her eyes, forcing her to stand upright as her measurements are being taken, “he’s very important and it won’t do us any good if you upset him”

“i feel like a doll” y/n frowns, “it’s too tight”

“you are a doll” her mother cups her cheek, “the prettiest of them all and you’ll be the perfect bride”

and the perfect sacrifice

“tonight, you’ll wear white” her mother instructs, “it’s important that you look your best”

“what’s wrong with what i have on?” she frowns

“don’t be silly” her mother scoffs, “i had the maids prepare your dress and shoes and saeko will help with your hair”

reaching into her bag, she produces a beautiful black box with gold phoenixes decorating it.

“a gift, from your betrothed” her smile is genuine this time and y/n knows it’s because she cares more about the expensive piece of jewellery.

the gold chain is thin and dainty and y/n can see the tiny center piece is the “grooms” family crest. she’s heard about these kinds of traditions and she doesn’t bother fighting when her mother insists on putting it on for her.

binding.

“how beautiful” her mother sighs but her eyes are on the center piece and once again, y/n feels like nothing more than a pawn.

she would never consider herself to be superficial, she knew real beauty was skin deep but she couldn’t help the small gasp when her walked into their large dining room.

he was so tall and pale, the moles on his face making his beautiful face stand out that much more. he didn’t smile and he didn’t seem interested in shaking hands with anyone, keeping a distance from her parents as his driver and assistant, stood nearby.

their eyes met a few times and y/n felt a cold shiver run down her back. his eyes were like two beautiful black holes, way too dangerous to keep looking or you’d surely get lost forever.

for a moment, it felt like the chain around her neck burned into her skin and she winced, looking back down at her hands in her lap.

“master wants to speak with you alone”

she looks up to see the man that had arrived with her .. fiancé.

“there’s no need to worry, i’m atsumu” atsumu smiles gently, “he’s in the garden”

she nods and follows him into the backyard. it’s the one place she can truly call her own since her parents never cared about it.

“there you are” kiyoomi says and his voice is rich and deep, causing a pleasant shiver to run down her spine. it’s different being this close to him and she’s a little surprised when he reaches for her hand and it’s cold to the touch.

“there’s no need to be so shy around me” he tells her, “we’re going to be married soon”

“… right” she says because she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. it helped that he was charming and he smelled like fresh lotus flowers.

“you’ll have a garden, just like this” kiyoomi says, “you take care of these flowers no?”

“i do” she smiles, “it’s my garden”

“you can plant whatever you want” he grins, “you’ll have all the free time to do everything you like”

as long as you never leave.

“iI think my mother would’ve loved you” kiyoomi says as he watches her pour him his tea, “she liked gardening too”

“oh.. i’m sorry” y/n says awkwardly

“it’s alright” he says, “it’s been years since i lost my parents, it’s an old wound”

does that mean he chose to marry her on his own? she didn’t understand what was going on. she also didn’t know how he even met her father and what exactly did he do for a living.

the next week felt like a blur, with having to get more measurements done, to having an official dinner as a family. they weren’t even married yet but the news spread fast that y/n, daughter of the attorney general, was finally going to be betrothed.

everyone in the city seemed to be excited for the grand wedding. smaller cities meant that everyone knew each other and she couldn’t even go out with friends without people congratulating her and some people looked as though they felt sorry for her.

an elderly lady at the café she frequented couldn’t even look at her without becoming teary eyed.

“i’m not going to stop coming here” y/n tries to make it lighthearted, “i’ve been coming here since high school”

“oh sweetheart” the elderly lady shook her head but before she could speak further, her husband pulled her away from their table.

“what was that about?” keiji asks

“it’s an old people thing” maki rolls his eyes, “don’t pay them any mind y/n”

y/n tried to ignore the uneasy feeling she felt for the rest of the day. it felt like the lady had more to say but her husband stopped her before she could say anything.

was kiyoomi really someone that well known? she had never really seen or heard of him before and that made her even more confused because the city wasn’t that big.

everyone knew everyone.

“there you are!” her father exclaims and she resists the urge to roll her eyes at him.

“kiyoomi thinks it’s important that you two get to know each other before the wedding” her father says and she can hear, in his tone, that there’s no room for arguments.

“will he come here?” she asks and her father shakes his head.

“he’s sending atsumu to pick you up tomorrow morning” he holds her hand, “you’ll spend some time with him so pack a bag”

she widens her eyes at that. her parents had always been strict about dating so why would they be so comfortable to let her stay at a man’s house she barely knew? a man she was engaged to.

“and keep the chain on at all times” he reminds her as she stands, “it’s important to him”

what about me?

“we’re very proud of you” her father says, “you’re very important to us”

she tries not to cry because that’s the first time he’s ever said that to her. she can’t even bring herself to hate him because after all, he was her father.

she wasn’t sure what she was expecting but his house is much bigger than hers and much more .. haunting. it must’ve been around in his family for many years despite being in perfect condition.

“come, atsumu will have them put your things in your room” kiyoomi takes her hand, “let me show you around”

“is this—”

“i told you” he pulls her into the huge garden in the back, “you can plant whatever you want here”

“it’s beautiful” y/n smiles, allowing herself to feel just a little bit happier. at least she’d be away from her parents for a few days.

“it’s yours” he tells her, “or rather, it will be”

and you’ll belong to me.

when keiji comes by the next day, he’s also shocked at how big the house is but it feels empty, almost like the walls whisper to you when you’re alone.

“the old lady was at the store earlier” keiji says, “she was so worried about you”

“about me?” y/n frowns, “what did she say?”

“she was talking so fast but she mentioned something about an old village nearby and sacrifices”

“oh” y/n laughs, “maybe she’s paranoid because i haven’t stopped by lately?”

“could be” he shrugs, looking around the large room y/n was staying in. “her husband told me to just ignore her so i didn’t say much else”

“ah, i see” y/n nods

she doesn’t mention the weird dreams she’s still having because she knows it’s because she’s just been overwhelmed lately and while saeko did go back home to fetch a few things, she knew she’d be back.

y/n still felt too nervous around kiyoomi even though he was putting in a lot of effort to make her feel comfortable.

“how is he?” keiji asks after a moment, “do you get along?”

“he’s great” y/n sighs, “almost too perfect, it doesn’t feel real”

“do you want to get to know him too?” he asks and she nods. she could admit that she was just a bit curious about him.

“i.. like talking to him” y/n says, “he listens and he’s patient because it’s obvious i’m still on edge”

“when is the wedding supposed to be?” keiji asks

“a week from now” y/n laughs bitterly, “my father picked the date”

“god he’s so—”

“don’t” y/n sighs, “it’s fine, i’m still getting used to the idea, that’s all”

“it’s still unfair” keiji sighs but he knows to back off.

a knock on the door startles them both and y/n feels that chill from before when kiyoomi opens the door to lean against the frame.

“you’re still here” he says and y/n nods.

“oh, this is keiji” y/n smiles, “keiji, this is kiyoomi”

“nice to meet you” keiji says and kiyoomi nods in acknowledgement.

she notices the mood change when keiji leaves. kiyoomi is already very quiet but it feels different that she feels the need to explain.

“he’s been my best friend since high school” y/n says, “he got married last year to his husband”

kiyoomi looks taken aback before he smiles again, standing to his full height.

“shall we have dinner?” he asks and she nods, smiling awkwardly.

was he already jealous?

“you’re the one i’ve been waiting for, you can never leave me. i’ve waited long enough for you to finally come to me and now that you’re here, i can never let you go.

sleep well, darling”

she wakes up gasping, sitting straight up in bed. the room is dimly lit since she had fallen asleep while reading.

she couldn’t really see anything or anyone in the recent dreams but it felt so real, like she was being pulled into the darkness just before she’d wake up, gasping for air.

“am i losing my mind?”

the conversation with keiji comes back to her and she can’t shake the feeling that something is going to happen. did people experience this before their weddings?

is this what cold feet was?

she shook her head and snuck downstairs to get a drink. she needed to clear her mind and reading was starting to make her overthink everything.

“can’t sleep?” atsumu asks. he’s sitting outside in the garden as she steps outside and she nods, holding her warm cup of tea close to her chest.

“is kiyoomi home?” she asks, sitting on the porch beside him. the garden was her favourite part of the entire place and she found herself playing with her chain as she stared out into the night.

“he’s in his study” atsumu smiles, “he’d love it if you joined him in there”

“wouldn’t i be disturbing his work?” she asks but atsumu chuckles.

“he has a personal library” atsumu adds, “master says he’s seen you reading a lot”

“ah yeah” y/n smiles, “i think i’ll go inside”

“goodnight” atsumu bids her farewell and she smiles.

that’s right, come to me darling.

she knocks gently and he calls for her to entire. she opens the door slowly and her eyes widen at how big his study is.

he looks beautiful even in the low light. glasses suit him and his smile made her feel warm inside. she didn’t feel so uneasy when he was around.

“oh, this is a pleasant surprise” he grins, “is something wrong?”

“i just couldn’t sleep” y/n admits, closing the door behind her, “am i interrupting?”

“of course not” he shakes his head immediately, “you can sit with me whenever you want darling, would you like a book to read?”

she smiles then and walks further into the study and towards the large bookcases.

“you’re more than welcome to come in here whenever you want” kiyoomi hands her a throw blanket as she makes herself comfortable on the couch. “after all, what’s mine is yours”

he watches her closely as her eyes begin to droop and he wants nothing more than to reach out and hold her but he knows he runs cold and it would be a while before she got used to his touch.

“so beautiful, even when you sleep” he sighs, “do you know how much i’ve wanted you?”

there have been others but none as beautiful as you are. i didn’t keep them either but their fates were already decided when the village elders sent out their names.

i can still hear the song of the brides as they were each carried on their sedans, brought into the cold forest and left there.

this way, is easier. i got to choose my bride and this time, i intend to keep you.

“what are your thoughts on having children?” kiyoomi asks. they’ve spent the morning sending out their wedding invitations and y/n would be going home until the wedding day.

“oh” y/n shrugs awkwardly, “i’ve never really thought about it and i’m not sure if i want to have any”

“i see” he smiles, “then we won’t have any if you don’t want to”

i would never have to share you with anyone ever again. you’ll only be with me.

y/n smiles up at him as he stands to get ready for work. he kisses the top of head, something he’s doing since the first morning they had breakfast together and she finds that she doesn’t mind.

she isn’t sure she wants to go back home but she knows she has to because it’s not appropriate for them to be so domestic before their actual wedding day.

“wait for me tonight and i’ll take you home” he says, “you can spend the day in the garden if you like or the study”

“thank you” she finds herself saying and he grins down at her.

“there’s no need to thank me” he cups her face gently, “i’m just happy to see you smiling”

she ignores the way that makes her feel, the butterflies in her stomach feel like a a tornado and she hates how disappointed she feels when he lets go and walks towards his study to get his work files.

you see it too, don’t you my love? you can’t be without me either.

“you don’t seem happy to be home” saeko grins, “do you miss the garden or kiyoomi?”

“oh, he’s no longer master?” y/n asks and saeko flicks her forehead.

“don’t try and change the subject” saeko says dryly, “do you miss him already?”

“.. maybe” she shrugs, reaching up to play with her chain, “it’s silly, i barely know him”

“does that matter?” saeko asks, “i haven’t seen you that happy and comfortable when you’re here”

y/n couldn’t argue with that. she felt free when she was with kiyoomi because he didn’t suffocate her and he was happy to just be in her presence without expecting anything in return.

“you’ll be with him forever after the wedding” saeko grins, “maybe you’ll have a child”

“he seems content to just have me” y/n looks down, suddenly feeling shy, “he said we don’t have to have any if i don’t want to”

“bare minimum but he’s a keeper” saeko says, “i’m excited for you now that you seem happier about the wedding and everything”

“i think he’ll make me happy” y/n smiles, “and i won’t have to see my parents as often”

good girl, you’ll only ever need me.

the room was cold, very cold and when she reached out to turn the lights on, it wouldn’t work. she could hear the faint sounds of a piano playing and the low humming of a man, a man that sounded so similar to kiyoomi that she couldn’t help but call out to him.

“kiyoomi?” she croaks out, her throat sore and scratchy. she couldn’t really recognise her surroundings but the scene before her caused her to scream and fall backwards.

there were people dressed in black, crying softly as the picture of kiyoomi sat in the middle of the room.

it was a funeral.

his funeral.

her screams are so loud that it wakes saeko up in the other room. she had stayed upstairs with y/n instead of heading into the servants quarters where the parents expected her to stay.

“y/n, wake up it’s just a dream” saeko gently shakes her shoulders, turning the bedside lamp on, “hey, it’s okay, you’re okay”

y/n can’t really think straight, still struggling to catch her breath as she wraps her arms tightly around saeko. she knows she shaking but she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to match her breathing with saeko’s.

“what was that?” saeko whispers, “you’ve never had nightmares before”

“i.. i don’t know” y/n chokes out, “it was just so cold”

“do you .. want to talk about it?” saeko asks gently, patting her head to help her relax.

“it was his funeral” y/n says softly, “like i could hear him humming softly but when i got closer to his study, the room changed and .. it was his funeral”

“it’s alright” saeko holds her tighter, “it was just a dream, he’s alright and so are you”

it just felt so real that y/n didn’t fall asleep again when saeko left. she said she’d be okay but she couldn’t get the image out her head no matter what she tried to do.

you see why you can’t leave me?

she doesn’t know why she tweets about it but everyone seems to think it’s normal and the amount of people praising sakusa makes her feel better. it was clear people knew who he was and he was obviously well liked.

it wasn’t like she was worried about any of that, she just didn’t like the dreams.

her phone ringing caused her to almost drop it.

“hello?” she says softly. she didn’t want to be too loud since it was way too early in the morning.

“darling, why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time?”

“i.. i wasn’t sure how to talk about it” she sighs, “it’s never happened before so i must really be nervous. i didn’t want anyone to worry”

“i’d worry about you anyway”

“could you maybe.. come see me later?” she asks, “i know the wedding is in 2 days but i want—”

“of course” he says, “i’ll be there in an hour”

“isn’t it too early? you have to work” she frowns, glancing at her bedside clock, it read 5:56 am.

“i’m never too busy for you, wait for me”

“okay” she smiles, already feeling better.

when she opens the door to find him standing there, her body moves before she can think about it and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down to hold him close.

“oh..” he grins, pulling her flush against him, “this is a lovely surprise”

“i just missed you” she mumbles but he still hears it loud and clear and he smiles, kissing the side of her head.

“i missed you too” he whispers, “do you want me to lay down with you?”

she nods. it was far too early to be awake and her parents would soon be getting up for their day and she didn’t want to see them right now.

closing the door quietly, she takes his hand and leads him up to her bedroom. the lamp is still on since the curtains are closed and the room feels cozy now that he’s with her.

he doesn’t wait for her to move closer, wrapping an arm around her, he pulls her against his chest.

“you could’ve slept like this with me at home” he chuckles, closing his eyes as he listens to her breathing.

“we only just met” she frowns, “i felt like this was overstepping but my dream really scared me”

“what happened?” he asks

“you were dead” she whispers, holding onto the back of his sweater tightly, “it was your funeral and there were people crying and everything felt so cold and scary that it was almost suffocating”

“look at me” he says and moves her back just a little. he cups the side of her face and forces her to look at him.

“kiyo—”

“i’m not going anywhere” he tells her, “it feels like i’ve waited lifetimes just to be with you”

she sniffs as wipes her eyes.

“i won’t ever leave your side” he promises, “you’ll never have to worry about anything or anyone ever again”

she nods and leans closer to him. she knows it’s wrong but she can’t help wanting to be closer and when he leans down to close the gap between them, she gasps into the kiss. his lips are soft and while his body runs cold, his kisses are so warm that she sighs and wraps her arms around him again.

“you won’t leave me, right?” he asks and she nods

“good girl” he smiles, kissing her again.

i have you now. you’ll always be mine, y/n.

she falls asleep to the sound of him humming softly. it’s comforting and she finds herself having the best sleep she’s had in months.

the morning of the wedding, she sat still as her mother fixed her hair. it was the only time she ever had her mother make such a fuss over her. she was grateful for saeko and kaori, it helped her not cry.

she didn’t want to ruin her makeup.

you’re just so beautiful, why wouldn’t i want to keep you forever? you’re the perfect sacrifice. i suppose i could grant this town a few blessings.

unless you told me not to. i would do anything for you.

kiyoomi could hardly keep his eyes off her as she stood in front of him. he could hardly focus on the bows or anything else as he watched her face through the pretty red veil.

she never needed makeup but her eyes were so much more prominent with the dark eyeliner. he could only think about finally making her his.

“beautiful” he whispers and he can see the way she smiles shyly. a smile only for him.

he could see her friends glancing at each other, trying to be discreet with their texting but there was nothing they could do now. he smirks as he makes eye contact with satori.

he must’ve always had his suspicions but after all, stories are just stories aren’t they?

saeko would do whatever she could to mark sure y/n was happy or he would just have to get rid of her.

no one would dare come between them or he would wipe the whole town out.

the bed was covered in a deep shade of red, matching her wedding dress. she sat patiently with her hands in her lap as she waited for him to join her.

she kept her veil down, knowing he had to remove it for her.

she was nervous but she knew she wanted to be with kiyoomi and it was clear he definitely wanted her just as much.

“lie down for me darling” he whispers, kissing her jaw as he slips the rest of his clothing off. she laid bare before him and he smirked, trailing his fingers up her thigh, stopping at her neck to squeeze gently.

“kiyoomi” she whispers, “please”

“i know” he tells her, “i just want to look at you”

i will never look at anyone the way i look at you.

he wanted to tell her everything, how he had seen her at that café she frequented. how he had set everything in motion for her greedy father and how it was just to easy to have them offer her up on a silver platter, all for him.

she gaps, grabbing onto his bicep as he slowly pushes into her. it hurt but she found herself moaning louder, wrapping her legs around his waist. she wanted all of him.

mine.. all mine..

he never cared for any of their offerings. he was almost 700 years old now and while he doesn’t remember much about the previous offerings, he knows he never cared as much as he does now.

you were so perfect and exactly what he wanted. before you, he had plans to get rid of the town that had conjured him up all those years ago for their own selfish desires.

“more omi, please” she begs, eyes tearing up when you feel him press deeper into you, his body so close that it almost felt like you were burning up.

he could give you that and so much more. he would give you everything you asked for.

“fuck, you feel so soft and warm” he whispers, gripping the back of your thigh and lifting it towards your chest.

like this he was even deeper, fucking you into the bed. your new bed that you’d spend your forever in.

“so good” she can’t help but cry out for him.

she’s never felt anything this intense before, he own fingers were nothing compared to the way he fucked her.

he knew exactly where to touch and where to kiss.

“tell me baby, who do you belong to?” he asks, gripping her jaw to force her to keep eye contact.

“you” she moans, “i’m all yours”

he believed her words to be true because he felt the way her pussy clenched tightly around his cock. a virgin, he grins down when he sees the tiny droplets of blood. it only made him harder, closing his eyes to keep his composure.

you have no idea.

#[ 🪼 ] xfg writes #haikyuu smut #sakusa x you #hq sakusa #haikyu smut #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi smut

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kqutie · 1 month ago

Text

THE PRINCESS' SEVEN MERCENARIES

CHAPTER ONE : A SWIFT ESCAPE

relations. : cevans various/reader -- steve rogers/reader ; curtis everett/reader ; ari levinson/reader ; lloyd hansen/reader ; andy barber/reader ; jake jensen/reader ; ransom drysdale/reader

chpt. sum. : your stepmother wants you dead but you're able to make a swift escape with the help of the huntsman who was meant to kill you. into the woods you go in search of a new and better life!

tags. : mentions of an assassination attempt ; evil stepmothers being evil ; evil queen being evil ; disney princess reader ; snow white and the seven dwarves au ; fairy tale au ; fluff ; domestic fluff in-coming! ; disney princess reader and her seven sexy mercenaries hehe~

length. : 4.6k

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You were right to be suspicious from the very beginning. Ever since your father's honourable death in battle, you had been treated as lower than dirt by your stepmother. She was more than eager to be crowned the new queen of the kingdom and did her best to wipe your existence from the minds of all the people you were supposed to rule one day. Still quite young at the time, you didn't realise her manipulative ways. And you were none the wiser to her malicious intent.

The signs were obvious, every time you met her eyes, the distaste and displeasure were swimming in her narrowed sight, clear as the diamonds in her opulent crown. For quite a long time, you tried to hold out hope that she'd, one day, realise your sincerity, and your genuine want to become a good ruler. All in the hopes that your deceased father would smile at you, proud of your benevolent ruling as rightful queen. But that was your biggest fault. The virtuous desire she saw in your eyes only made her rage, aversion, and fear towards you grow by the day.

It was for her own comfort and self-assurance that you were subjected to live like a servant, dress like a servant, and be treated like a servant, within castle walls, never to be seen by your people again.

Only the palace servants were allowed to interact with you, yet, they were also under strict supervision to act ignorant of their princess' obvious mistreatment. It wasn't any use, however; your kindness, strength, and sincerity, even at such a young age, had all the palace staff turning a blind eye. Whenever the queen commanded that you be mistreated, or dealt with worse than the stable keepers of the royal horses, they offered their help. Even the guards, who had to report back to the Queen, happily turned in falsified reports in the hopes that your upbringing became more auspicious.

For years, you were treated like a servant under the Queen's, your stepmother's, command to which you readily obliged. The mistreatment, the obvious jealousy she holds for you, the insensitivity you had to suffer, all of it was tolerable because of the wonderful staff surrounding you. You also knew that one day, your justice will be fulfilled. You had already passed your coming of age but you weren't deterred. It's malevolent but, as long as you were able to see the lingering hatred in your stepmother's eyes, no matter how few those instances were, you know that there will be hope for a better future. Through her fears, you will be able to rise and take back what was truly yours from the very beginning – your right to rule.

But now... now you don't know what to think.

"Sir Remfrey," you call, following the huntsman further into the clearing on the outskirts of your kingdom. It was a beautiful meadow dotted with the prettiest wildflowers you had ever seen but the trepidation in your thundering heart wouldn't allow you to relax. The huntsman you had grown up to view as a beloved, close relative, doesn't respond. He doesn't even spare you a glance — but he can't allow you to witness the obvious conflict in his eyes. He was determined to let you go but when he stares into the dense forest before him, he worries for the life of his princess, the true ruler of the kingdom he so loved.

"Princess..." the huntsman finally stops just at the boundary of the forest. In a moment reigned by taught nerves, Remfrey tightens his hold on the basket full of food, spare clothing, and other useful supplies for your safe escape. "I am meant to kill you today by order of the Queen,"

Even though you shouldn’t have been surprised, a startled gasp still escaped your parted lips. For a long time, you've been conscious of your stepmother's paramount dislike of you, but never took her for someone who would command that you be killed.

Words fail you and your hands begin to shake as you hug yourself for comfort. It's a morbid thought but at least you were finally given some new clothes before your death — the only silver lining you could think of in such a dire situation. The fabric of your new A-line dress is soft but durable, its length protecting you from the occasional breeze, down until your mid-calf. This morning when you were presented with it along with a thick and cosy, cable knit cardigan, you were elated. It's been years since you were presented with new casual clothes and, upon their presentation, a spark of hope lit up your eyes... that is, until Sir Remfrey came to escort you to an unknown location for a surprise outing by order of the Queen. You weren't stupid but were, nonetheless, stupid enough to follow her ambiguous orders.

"Sir Remfrey please–"

"But I will not do that," the seasoned hunter, the bulky, tall, alpha-presenting man, faces you with tearful eyes, his knees dropping to the grassy ground as he urges you to hold onto the wicker basket he had brought along, "I'm letting you go here, my princess, and I will handle the rest. You must run and never look back; today you really did die so please..." he begs with a quivering voice, touching his forehead to the back of your hand, "please start a new and better life, one that is full of happiness, one that you deserve,"

With tears in your eyes, you embrace the huntsman tenderly, your arms unable to fully circle his broad shoulders, "what will you do? I know she is evil and if she finds you have disobeyed, Sir Remfrey, your family—"

"Will be alright," he reassures in the same whisper you had used to express your concern. Even when knowing your mournful fate, you still thought of him and his family – you are truly a better ruler, a better person, than the Queen could ever be, "I plan on returning with a wild hog's heart as evidence instead," he pulls away to smile at you, patting your head affectionately as he had always done, viewing you as the third daughter he never had, "and I plan on leaving the kingdom with my family soon after, you need not worry about me or anyone else, just yourself,"

He warns you of the dangers the forest presents but it is still a safer haven than the palace. No matter how well-decorated the grand structure may be, at least in the forest, you remain alive. He also lists off the necessities kept hidden in the basket: spare clothes, enough food for a week and some spare gold coins that the staff managed to scrap together as well as 'borrow' from the treasury (with the help of the palace accountant). Everyone at the castle, except the Queen, knew of the plan today and had worked together to keep you safe and give you another, better chance at life. It touched your heart so much that, despite the dismal circumstance, your eyes filled with tears of joy.

So as you traverse over the forest floor, Sir Remfrey's words echo in your head: keep running and don't look back! Create and live a better life!

It broke your heart to be leaving your kingdom and your people like this but... what can you do? A part of you feels guilty for not acting sooner and for allowing things to get this far but another part tempers your self-accusation gently. You were only a child. You had every right to feel guilt over this but the only thing you can and should do is look forward. You haven't yet fully escaped the Queen and you wouldn't dare endanger Sir Remfrey's life after all that he has done for you despite also putting his family in danger.

Keep running!

Don't look back!

Keep running!

Don't look back!

Keep running!

Don't look back!

The sun crawls slowly above you as your feet become heavier and heavier, it's come to the point where you're beginning to drag your shoes along the dirty forest floor and have come dangerously close to tumbling over several times. Thankfully, the trees were there to save your fall, their trunks and branches provided a sturdy foundation to rely on amid your toppling form.

Your throat feels like sandpaper but you resist reaching into the basket for the bottle of milk stored deep inside; you don't know how long it'll take to find a village that you could reside in without a beaten path to lead you the way, so your endurance was being put to the test. It all seems hopeless but you don't want the efforts of the kind palace staff to go to waste, they've sacrificed so much for you, you wouldn't dare put their efforts in vain. Magic items were a privilege of high society, rich nobles, and powerful organisations, only very few knew what was in the Queen's full magical arsenal so you needed to get away as far as possible and quickly!

Just a little longer you think to yourself, pushing forward with a new determination.

Multiple trees pass you by, their trunks and low branches offering support for the hazard that was their knobbly roots. Time no longer was a factor of thought, instead, it was the throbbing in your downtrodden ankles and the ache in the arches of your feet, how long have you been travelling like this? At this point, walking without shoes was an incredibly enticing idea. The dragging of your feet weighs down your sore, hopeless heart and you're soon having to suppress a sob.

But just as all hope escapes you, the distant sound of a running river raises your spirits. Pulled forward by the steady stream, you eventually break through the forest boundary to rest at the river bank. The water was crystal clear and glittering with the early afternoon sun. You wasted no time in leaning down for a drink and, once you had satiated your thirst, you carefully dipped in your naked feet and sighed in the relief that the cool water brings. The tenderness of your arches and ankles was quickly swept away with the water. It was a blissful reprieve that you took full advantage of.

Reaching into the basket, you pull out a small collection of fruit and nuts to snack on before withdrawing a more filling sandwich. The staff had been incredibly generous. They had given you a full pouch of gold coins, food, clothes, and a charmed wicker basket to hold it all in — the internal storage of the modest accessory was endless but it remained the same weight no matter how much you filled it up. It was a rather expensive item that could only be afforded by nobles and royalty who would sooner gift the basket to their staff for use in picnic outings and the like. It was quite handy to have while you worked about the castle along with the rest of the palace staff.

As much as you would have liked to remain sitting at the river bank with your feet dipped in its cool, racing waters, you still had to keep moving forward. For now, you opted for following the river in the hopes that you'd eventually be led to a nearby town as most tended to revolve around freshwater sources. Happily, you dabbed on some of Alma's homemade peppermint and lavender essential oil, stowed in a small glass bottle within the basket. You think fondly of the time you spent making homemade remedies, teas, powders, and all sorts with the elderly palace herbalist, wife of the gardener. They were a lovely couple who taught you everything you know along with many other individuals about the palace staff. One of the most useful things Alma taught you is that peppermint and lavender were deeply despised by bugs and pests, so to save yourself of any troubling bites, you dabbed on the oil generously. Another benefit was the beautiful fragrance helped mask the stench of sweat on your brow.

Refreshed and less panicked, you continue on your new path by the river. You expected another long journey ahead but soon came across a beautiful cottage that stood in a clearing on the other side of the running water. Thankfully a humble wooden bridge was there to help you cross the river. Circling the cottage, you recognise several raised beds full of carefully grown produce, it was the start of an expansive and impressive garden that stretches all around the cottage's perimeter. The cosy structure looked well-kept and huge with many windows and levels, you wonder how many rooms such an isolated cottage could have and for what reason. Nevertheless, this was the first sign of life on your journey and you were eager for shelter and, perhaps, some directions too.

Patting down your dress and sweater for any lingering dust or dirt, you took a breath and steadily made your way to the front door. It was certainly a property that needed admiring so you wondered why it was so remotely placed. You didn't let such thoughts linger for too long, however – perhaps the home owner/s liked their privacy. Stepping up to the heavy front door of the property, you quickly knock before you get the chance to lose all confidence.

No answer.

You gave a secondary knock and even a third knock but there was still no answer. Is nobody home? You ponder thoughtfully.

"Hello?" You call out, somewhat, hesitantly but still receive nothing. It wasn't in your nature to intrude but you really needed a place to stay, just for the night. You'll promise to leave in the early morning, provided that they offer you some helpful directions. Instead of knocking again, you try the doorknob and find no resistance. The wooden door happily invites you into the cottage’s front room.

The space inside was dark and bedraggled. Unused surfaces were covered in dust and a pile of dirty laundry took up a corner space. You couldn't believe that such a sparse interior could be made so messy. Organised chaos was your best attempt at describing the spaces you walked through. Silas (the palace cook) would have lost his mind at the sight of the kitchen and Frances (the head maid) would have fainted from the unclean environment. The air reeked of countering alpha scents too; you managed to pick up seven distinct aromas and swallowed nervously. As an omega, you were heavily encouraged to avoid all alpha-dominated spaces but didn't have much of a choice at this moment. At least the cottage seemed to be empty for now. Not only that but in this modern world, everybody is equipped with their individual, second-gender suppressor accessory – it’s standard for the safety of all people. If the homeowner was civilised, you're sure they would never go out without theirs; you never even took yours off, and most people didn’t.

"No one seems to be home..." you whisper to yourself, gnawing at your bottom lip in thought, "and I've been very rude for intruding like this..." Observing the space around you once more, you wonder how you could somehow mitigate the owner's negative reaction to your trespassing, "maybe if I clean up a bit, they'll forgive me for barging in like this," with your optimistic thought, you got set to work, "I can do their laundry too and…" you eye their kitchen space, "maybe if I make them something special to eat, they won't be so angry," giggling to yourself somewhat, you remember Silas' knowledgeable words 'nobody could eat a delicious meal and stay angry or sad'. He often used that to get back into his wife’s good graces and it seemed to work flawlessly, every single time — hopefully, you can do the same in this instance.

First things first: a general clean up of the area was urgently needed. However, you also had to open every window nearby; the amount of dust and dirt your movements lifted into the air was suffocating. You remain on the ground floor where most of the community rooms are located such as the living area, kitchen/dining room, and a large farmhouse-style conservatory, which stretches into the back garden.

The living area and dining area didn't take too much time, it only needed a little reorganising and dusting. The kitchen took a little more out of you so you took a quick break, where you leisurely got the laundry settled. Thankfully, the conservatory was equipped with an enchanted washing apparatus that you were used to operating from the palace. It was peculiar to find in such a humble setting but you didn't know the full background of the homeowner so you didn't question too much.

Little by little, the once unclean space became decent again. But it was missing something… something homey. Before getting started with dinner preparations, you fetched a newly cleaned glass vase from one of the many cupboards you were able to neatly organise and went out to collect some beautifully blossomed flowers to present at the dining table. You managed to arrange a pretty bouquet featuring bright purple and indigo blossoms, eucalyptus sprigs, bunches of dainty white florets and other miscellaneous greenery. Happy with the floral decoration, you turn your full attention to food preparations.

Some minutes into food prep, the laundry washer was finished and you went to hang the freshly washed clothes up to dry on the washing line. It was helpful that you were able to keep your eye on the laundry through the window above the sink, looking into the conservatory space, which overlooked the back gardens. The interior design was very open and spacious, where, even if you were in one room, you were still able to peek into several others without much effort — you quite liked it; everything was connected but still had its own place.

Getting stuck doing the chores was familiar. The tasks were comforting as they brought to mind the many friendly faces of the palace staff. They helped raise you, provided tutelage on their specialised skills and ensured that you didn't miss out on the vital education all princesses were entitled to, all behind the tyrannical Queen’s back. Silas the chef de cuisine, Frances the head maid, Henry the head butler, Ernest and Abigail the royal librarians, Alma the herbalist and her husband Otis the gardener, Amos the accountant, Cecelia the palace doctor and her assistant Victor, the brother of Violet who was the royal bookkeeper, Hansen, the royal guard and his friends, Abraham the palace mage and so many more amazing people. You miss them all so much, your found family amongst all the hardship you were forced to face by order of the Queen. In your heart, you know that without their help and kindness, you wouldn't have had the courage to be kind anymore. These chores connect you back to them, in a way, and you are happy to swim in the remembrance and familiarity while putting the skills they've taught you to good use.

Despite the original grim state of the cottage, their enchanted cool storage was supplied generously and ran as smoothly as the walk-in cooler of the palace. There was some space for the milk, cheese, and other perishable food items stowed in your charmed wicker basket so you happily stowed those away first before setting out ingredients for the hearty dinner you had planned.

Slow-cooked, tender beef stew with fresh bread rolls and, for dessert, some easy banana bread with chocolate chips and whipped cream. Considering the clothes sizes you had laundered earlier, you assume that whoever lived here needed to be fed an above-average amount — a challenge you were happy to step up to.

Excited to put your cooking skills to the test, you get started with assembling the bread dough so that it has time to proof under the remaining daylight. After that, you quickly went about prepping the many vegetables needed for the stew before finally getting started on searing the meaty beef chuck you found, carefully wrapped in butcher's paper. Some of the seasonings you couldn't quite reach as the cupboards were rather high up so you had to climb onto the kitchen counters at some points. Nevertheless, the domestic, calm scene had you humming a simple tune, imagining Silas observing your progress from over your shoulder and smiling to himself with fulfilment – he always took such pride in teaching you well on navigating the kitchen, from sharpening knives and keeping a tidy space, to maintaining inventory and memorising a range of different recipes to fit any and every occasion.

While the beef stew was simmering over a steady, slow fire, you got to finishing up your bread rolls and finally tossed them into the oven, where you eventually got started on the banana bread and whipping cream. It was a shame that the kitchen space was barely utilised despite the impressive charmed appliances available for use. The homeowner's kitchen space was also incredibly big and it came with two beautiful ovens, meaning that you could cook the bread rolls and chocolatey banana bread at the same time — it was a home cook's dream cooking space. The only conclusion was that the homeowner wasn't suited for cooking but you were happy to fill in that scarcity, especially if it made them less mad at you for intruding…

Wiping the thought from your head, you allowed the delicious aroma to fill the kitchen while you went to collect the newly dried laundry and placed the piles in the conservatory space, ready to be folded neatly. It was a little unfortunate that you couldn't extend your labour to the upstairs spaces but you've infringed on the homeowner's space enough; you don't think a simple cleaning or a hearty meal could convince anyone to remain calm if they found that their private bedroom space was also carelessly invaded.

Everything was going well and you're positive you would make a good first impression. If you were determined enough, you're sure the homeowner would be willing to overlook your trespassing on their property. Hopefully, they'll also be convinced to let you stay the night and offer you some directions to leave for the following morning; you've already intruded enough, you couldn't possibly ask for extended shelter too... although it would be very much appreciated on your part.

Yawning softly, you take out the bread rolls and place them on a wire rack to cool, waiting a little longer to do the same for the chocolatey banana bread. On occasion, you would check on the bubbling beef stew over the small fire, but the longer you cook it, the better the flavour and the more tender the meat becomes, so you weren't too worried. The only time you added to the pot was when you felt as though the broth had gotten too low and needed replenishing.

"It should be ready in another hour or so," you murmur to yourself as you cover the pot once more and clean up the kitchen space as you go. You push yourself to finish ironing and folding the laundry in the conservatory before finally admitting to your tiredness. Allowing the fatigue to consume your figure, you settle yourself in the living room and curl up on the large sofa. With the throw blanket covering you, one of the sofa cushions supporting your head and the other hugged to your chest, sleep found you easily. In your dreams, you imagine being warmly accepted by the mysterious homeowner, who eventually helps you on your way to a quaint little village that you happily settle into and start a new life in.

"Captain!" Jake fumbles his way towards Steve. The morning had been a rush and flurry of activity as the group found a potential lead but was met with yet another dead end and returned back to square one. Now, as they make their way back to their temporary home, a complimentary asset that came with their year-long mission, Jake was finally able to check on their security system but panicked as soon as he saw the breach alert.

"What is it, Jake?" Steve sighs and carefully massages his temples. Four months into their mission and they have yet to make much progress at all. Things were optimistic in the beginning but time was running out quicker than he expected. As the captain, he often has to remind himself to be patient but it's hard to get a bird's eye view of things when you're in the thick of it.

"There was a breach at the cottage!"

"What?!" Lloyd snaps with Ransom close behind him. It's been years since they've had a stable home space and now it's been broken into?! This was the one clause in the contract they were adamant about for the ounce of stability it provided on their normally volatile profession; they refuse to have such an invaluable property taken away before its agreed-upon time!

"I thought you said that barrier made the cottage invisible to everyone but us!" Ransom barks with barely restrained outrage, adding to Steve's headache but the philanderer doesn't pay his captain's chilling glare any attention.

"Yes—!" Jake huffs from confusion and astonishment at the bewildering facts before him, "But because the cottage is also very isolated, it's not as high-level a barrier as it could be so high-affinity magic users can see right through it and possibly even break through,"

His explanation further angers the two main antagonists of the alarming news but, ever the mediator, Ari steps up with a calming air, "We're almost home so we can take care of things soon enough," Steve gives the mechanic of the group a grateful smile. Yes, the circumstance, after such an exhausting day, wasn't ideal but he will always appreciate additional help when taming the two wild cats of their mercenary group.

Seeing their home just ahead, Ransom and Lloyd begin to rush forward but are immediately stopped by Curtis' unyielding limbs. With a grunt, the silent surveyor and guard forces them back in warning.

"We don't know who's inside but from what Jake said it's a high-affinity magic user," Steve scolds deeply in a hushed whisper, "we can't just rush in blindly,"

The group look at their homey cottage and observe all signs of activity within. Some windows were left open with the curtains drawn, a soft golden light emits from inside and the small chimney positioned by the kitchen is billowing with smoke. It's obvious that someone else had made themselves at home in the mercenary group's absence.

"That's strange," Andy admits, seeming to have read Steve's mind as the two turn to lock eyes.

"Doesn't seem like the intruder is looking to ambush us," Steve completes their shared thought, "but that still doesn't mean they can't harm us so stay on your guard," Steve directs the group to opposite entry points about the cottage. This improves their chances of surprising their intruder as well as covering more ground. They reconnect their earpieces before setting forth on their stealth positions about the cottage; naturally, Steve separates Lloyd and Ransom to avoid their troubling behaviour together.

"Ari, Ransom, and Jake go in from the back. Curtis, Andy, Lloyd, and I will head in from the front," Steve eyes Curtis and Lloyd, "you two split off to search the upstairs while Andy and I head through to the kitchen. If we can, we’ll regroup there," with an affirming nod from all parties, they split up and take their positions accordingly.

navi. | series masterlist | two. a fateful meeting →

a/n : this is just the beginning but i hope you darlings enjoy the series so far! please comment, like, reblog and tell me what you think, i'd really appreciate it! — bit of a bad time posting this on kinktober but we move haha!

p.s this is my first time writing for these sexy men so please go easy on me and my characterisation of them (ó﹏ò。)

#ransom drysdale x reader #steve rogers x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #ari levinson x reader #curtis everett x reader #jake jensen x reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber #steve rogers #ari levinson #curtis everett #lloyd hansen #jake jensen #chris evans characters #chris evans characters x reader #fairy tale au #snow white au #fluff

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